#like that's all stuff you can get from the set up

[annasellheim]

So this was on the @writing-prompt-s site- so I'm treating it as a writing prompt. (I can't fucking draw right now due to a busted shoulder, so I'm doing a bunch of them because I'm alone, hurt, and sad, and they're fun).

Anyway, the story:

I sat down next to him. I looked at my former student, now an adult. A brilliant engineer. I remembered him. I had really liked this kid. The man in front of me was impressive as hell too. It didn't surprise me at all.

"I'm really, really sorry this hurt you. That I hurt you. What I was trying to do was show you some techniques. My goal was that, later, after you learned them, you could deviate from them and make your own thing.

We have a set of guidelines of things we need to teach. It's a mandatory curriculum, with national guidelines, just like math or science or whatever. But it varies from state to state. And who the hell knows what they do in private school. And the curriculum isn't focused on self expression as much as teaching you how to use fine motor skills and..."

Shit, stop it Anna. You don't need to keep justifying yourself.

I try to remember when he had moved away during the school year. I wonder if I hadn't gotten to the point in the spring semester where I gave my students more lee way, to experiment and deviate from the techniques I showed them. To let them decorate their dishes any way they wanted. To make trees and flowers for different seasons. I wondered if he had been part of one of my first classes, before I figured out how to create a really solid curriculum.

Regardless, I could have been clearer about it. I was new to teaching when I had him as a student, I know that much. I was overwhelmed, and honestly, barely keeping it together for the first, like, 4 years I taught. And there were 20-30 students in my classes. It took me a a while to figure out what works and what doesn't in the classroom.

The most important thing was this man in front of me. He was way quieter and more hesitant than the kid I remembered. I hope I didn't do that to him, but I'm was probably reading too much into it.

I took a sip of my coffee.

"You know what's cool tho? The shit you've been doing at work-"

He looked surprised and snorted.

"What?"

"You swore."

It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, to be fair I'm not in classroom mode right now.

Anyway, the stuff you've been doing at work, it all sounds like it takes a ton of creativity to accomplish."

"I never thought of it that way..."

"Well, you've been on the forefront of a bunch of stuff because you think outside the box. I'm glad I didn't rob you of that."

We sat next to each other on the bench. He was thinking it over. I was trying to not dwell on the fact that he brought this up, that he had carried this pain with him for 20 years.

"Do you still make art?"

"No, not since elementary school, since my last-"

"Your last required art class. Got it."

I gave him a side eyed glance.

"You know you can get back into it at any time, right?"

He was taken aback, he obviously had never considered it.

I smiled. I've had this conversation before, many many times.

"It's not like a sport or something. You can start at literally any point in your life, you don't need to be young and in peak physical condition. Art ain't basketball.

The cool thing too is that you can choose what you want to make, you're an adult. Nothing in art is required for you to learn. You can pick any class you want, or no class at all."

I gave him my business card.

"If you shoot me an email, I can give you some books to read for you to get started. Not to teach techniques, but exercises that help get you back to the point where you just make stuff. I think a LOT of people stop making art for all kinds of reasons, not just because of a novice teacher. There's been a bunch of stuff that's come out recently to try to help adults make art again. y'know, to recapture the joy of it."

We said our goodbyes. I really hope he thinks it over and reaches out.

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace frenetic.

"I miss your tummy" you pout.

"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who she totally notices the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

[solxamber]

1800-Curse-Control || Lilia Vanrouge

You decide to open a hotline for curing curses with Lilia. It goes exactly how you imagined it would—maybe even a little better.

“Lilia,” you said, rubbing your temples as you leaned against the counter in Ramshackle’s disaster of a kitchen. “Grim’s eating me out of house and home, literally. If I can’t afford the repairs soon, the roof will cave in. But all he cares about is premium tuna! Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

Lilia, who was casually floating upside down for no apparent reason, looked entirely too entertained. “Ah, the plight of a homeowner,” he said, grinning. “Why not turn your misfortune into opportunity? I’ve been told I have exceptional customer service skills, and I’ve been dreadfully bored. Let’s open a hotline for removing curses!”

You blinked at him. “A hotline. For curing curses.”

“Yes, my dear beastie,” he said, flipping upright midair and landing gracefully. “Think about it! This school is crawling with fools who drink unlabeled potions, poke magical artifacts, and anger vengeful spirits just for sport. You’d be rich in a week!”

“…I hate how much sense that actually makes.”

“It’s a foolproof plan,” Lilia continued, already pulling a notepad from somewhere to scribble down ideas. “I’ll handle the exorcisms and the cackling, naturally. You, my dear entrepreneur, can be the charming face of the operation. We’ll call it—hmm—‘Curse-B-Gone.’”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine, ‘Hex Hotline.’”

You considered it. On one hand, it sounded completely ridiculous. On the other hand, there was that third-year who accidentally swapped his voice with a frog’s last week and the freshmen who kept mysteriously sprouting feathers.

“…How much are we charging?”

“Ah-ha! I knew you’d come around!” Lilia said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see, we’ll need tiers. Minor hex removal? Hundred thaumarks. Major curses—hair-growing hexes, spontaneous transformation curses—those will start at Five Hundred.”

“And what about something, like, really bad? What if someone’s whole body turns into a pumpkin or something?”

“That’s a premium package. One thousand thaumarks.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I’m in. But if this flops, you’re buying Grim’s tuna for the next month.”

Lilia smirked, his fangs glinting mischievously. “Deal.”

By the end of the day, you’d set up a magical hotline using some weird orb Lilia “borrowed” from the library, a vaguely threatening poster campaign across the campus (“Cursed? Hexed? A jackal-headed god show up at your dorm? Call us!”), and a suspiciously well-stocked supply of anti-curse materials Lilia claimed were “leftovers” from his youth.

You weren’t sure whether to feel excited or like you’d just signed up for the most bizarre mistake of your life. Either way, you couldn’t wait to see how this would go down.

The orb hotline rang for the first time, glowing ominously on the rickety desk in Ramshackle. You and Lilia exchanged glances.

“Answer it!” he whispered, like this was some spy mission and not a cursed customer service line.

With a deep breath, you picked it up. “Uh… Hello, this is the Cursed and Confused Hotline. How can we—”

“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Ace’s voice screamed on the other end. “HE’S GOING TO KILL ME THIS TIME!”

You winced, holding the orb away from your ear. “Ace? What happened?”

“I DON’T KNOW! I WAS JUST TRYING TO MAKE TEA!”

“Okay, and?”

“And I might’ve…accidentally used that weird sugar in the Heartslabyul pantry, the one that glows in the dark? And now Riddle’s head is covered in, like…peonies. Big, pink peonies. They keep growing whenever he gets mad, which, uh, is always.”

You slapped your forehead. “You cursed your housewarden?!”

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Ace wailed. “I thought it was sugar, not cursed fertilizer! Look, can you just fix this before he declares ‘off with my head’ for real?”

“Ugh, fine. Where are you now?”

“Hiding in the rose bushes. He hasn’t found me yet, but I think I heard him sharpening a guillotine.”

“Classic Heartslabyul,” Lilia said cheerfully, already packing his so-called emergency kit.

When you and Lilia arrived at Heartslabyul, it was pure chaos. Riddle stood in the center of the garden, his face as red as his hair—and also half-obscured by an explosion of giant pink peonies blooming out of his head like some cursed bouquet.

“TREY!” Riddle bellowed. “GET THE GARDEN SHEARS!”

Ace was crouched in a rose bush nearby, whispering frantically. “Please tell me you brought an anti-cursed-flower spray or something!”

You ignored him and approached Riddle cautiously. “Uh, Riddle? You’ve got—”

“I KNOW WHAT I HAVE!” Riddle shrieked, a few more flowers blooming on his head. “I demand immediate remedy! Or else—”

“We’ll fix it,” Lilia cut in, grinning like this was the most fun he’d had in centuries. “Now, let’s see…” He pulled a vial of glowing liquid from his kit. “This should do the trick.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, eyeing the suspiciously fizzing vial.

“Of course not,” Lilia said, popping it open.

He dumped the liquid over Riddle’s head without warning. The flowers immediately shriveled up and disappeared.

Riddle blinked, touching his head in astonishment. “…It’s gone?”

“You’re welcome,” Lilia said with a dramatic bow.

Ace peeked out from the bushes. “So…he’s not mad anymore, right?”

Riddle’s death glare answered that question.

“RUN!” you yelled, dragging Ace out of the garden as Riddle shouted about punishment for “sugar crimes.”

Back at Ramshackle, you slumped against the desk. “We’re never doing house calls again.”

Lilia just laughed. “Oh, but the drama! I live for it!”

The hotline orb began glowing again, pulsing with a foreboding, bluish light.

You groaned. “If this is Ace again, I swear—”

Lilia waved his hand. “Come now, it’s probably another entertaining disaster! Answer it!”

You reluctantly picked up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What’s your—”

“FIX. THIS. NOW!” came Azul’s shrill, panicked voice.

You blinked. “Azul? What’s—”

“I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE WHAT HE’S DONE THIS TIME!”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” Floyd’s voice cut in, cackling in the background. “It’s a masterpiece!”

“Masterpiece?” Azul screeched. “You flooded the dining room and filled it with—WHY ARE THERE EELS IN THE SOUP POTS?”

“Because it’s hilarious!” Floyd howled, clearly having the time of his life.

Jade’s calm voice joined in, oozing politeness as always. “To be fair, Floyd has a point. The eels are thriving in there.”

Azul sputtered like a broken faucet. “THRIVING?! THEY’RE STEALING PEOPLE’S FOOD!”

“Sounds efficient to me,” Floyd said. You could practically hear him smirking. “Dinner and a show!”

Lilia perked up. “Eels in soup pots? How creative!”

“Don’t encourage him!” Azul barked. “Do you know how much it costs to repair the water damage he’s caused? The walls are dripping! The chandelier is dripping! I AM DRIPPING!”

“That’s not cursed,” you said, trying to hide your amusement. “That’s just Floyd being—well, Floyd.”

“Oh, no, it’s cursed,” Azul hissed. “Every time I try to remove the eels, the water level rises. They’re like aquatic squatters! Fix it or I swear I’ll—”

The sound of something massive splashing cut him off, followed by Floyd’s uncontrollable laughter.

“HAHAHA! He slipped into the soup pot! Jade, did you see that?”

“I did,” Jade replied, his voice as smooth as ever. “It was quite elegant.”

“AZUL’S AN EEL NOW!” Floyd cried. “Eel bros for life, baby!”

The orb started vibrating violently.

“Get. Over. Here. Now.” Azul’s voice was barely a whisper, the tone of someone seconds away from an aneurysm.

You sighed and grabbed your bag. “Let’s go before he implodes.”

When you arrived at Mostro Lounge, it was exactly what you expected—and somehow worse. The entire dining area was flooded, eels swam lazily in the soup pots, and Azul was perched on a chair, drenched from head to toe and glaring murderously at Floyd, who was happily paddling through the water like it was his personal playground.

“Finally!” Azul barked, waving his wet hand. “Do something! Anything!”

Floyd, half-submerged in a soup pot, waved at you. “Hey! You wanna join the eel party? First rule—no rules!”

Lilia clapped his hands. “This is magnificent chaos!”

Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll double your pay if you fix this immediately.”

You glanced at Lilia, who was already pouring a suspiciously glowing liquid into the water.

“This should work,” he said cheerfully.

The water started to drain, the eels vanished in puffs of smoke, and the room returned to normal—except for Floyd, who now floated upside down in midair, spinning like a cursed top.

“Whoa, this is AWESOME!” Floyd laughed, twirling like a maniac. “I’m a flying eel!”

Azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you said “I’m charging you extra for emotional damages.”

The hotline orb flared up again, casting a frantic purple glow. You groaned, mid-sip of tea.

“I don’t know if I can handle more insanity.”

Lilia, perched upside down on the couch, grinned. “Nonsense! Chaos keeps the heart young. Answer it!”

Reluctantly, you picked it up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What did you do, and how bad is it?”

“It’s me! It’s Epel!” came the desperate, whisper-shouted voice of the Pomefiore freshman. “I need your help—immediately! I’ve got the worst curse of all on me.”

“Worst curse?” you asked, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Vil,” Epel said, voice shaking. “And Rook.”

“...Epel, those are people, not curses.”

“They are when Vil finds out I repurposed his limited-edition face mask jars as apple cider mugs for the guys in Savanaclaw!”

Lilia burst into a delighted cackle. “Oh, that’s fantastic!”

“Not fantastic! Vil’s gonna flay me alive!” Epel hissed. ���And Rook’s hunting me down like a rabbit in the woods. Please, ya gotta help!”

You tried not to laugh. “How exactly do you want me to help? I can’t exactly—”

A loud thud echoed through the call, followed by Epel screaming, “He found me! NO! PUT THAT BOW DOWN!”

“Bonjour, my friend~!” Rook’s voice came through, as smooth as velvet and disturbingly cheerful. “Ah, how beautiful the chase! Like a fox cornered by the hounds, our petit pomme has finally been found!”

“ROOK, NO! DON’T HAND ME OVER!”

“Oh, petit lapin,” Rook said, unbothered, “the punishment will only make you stronger. Think of it as a trial by fire!”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE STRONGER, I WANNA BE ALIVE!” Epel shrieked.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Rook, what exactly are you planning to do with him?”

“Ah, worry not,” Rook replied. “I am but a humble messenger delivering him to justice. Vil has been most patient.”

“HE CALLED ME A PEASANT AND THREW A HEEL AT ME, THAT’S PATIENT?” Epel howled.

Lilia leaned forward, thoroughly entertained. “Rook, at least let us have a word with Epel before he meets his doom.”

“But of course!”

“HELP ME!” Epel screamed the moment Rook handed him the phone. “Distract them, hex me, I dunno, CURSE ME INTO A TREE OR SOMETHING—”

“Epel,” you said firmly, trying not to laugh, “you’re going to have to face Vil eventually. What’s the worst he could do?”

“THE WORST? Oh, I dunno, exile me to a skincare bootcamp for the rest of my natural life?”

Rook’s voice floated in. “Imagine it, petit pomme: cleansing facials, detoxifying baths, and no more cider mugs. A new you!”

“YOU STAY OUTTA THIS!”

You sighed. “I can offer one thing.”

“Anything!”

“An apology. I suggest you start practicing now.”

“An apology?! I called Vil’s collection overhyped snake oil. I’m DOOMED!”

“Not if you run fast enough,” Rook chimed in cheerfully. “Shall we test your stamina?”

The call ended with Epel’s scream, followed by the distinct sound of someone bolting at full speed.

“Well,” Lilia said, smiling. “That was worth every second.”

Jamil’s voice crackled through the orb strained and absolutely done.

"Hi, yeah, it’s me again."

You rolled your eyes. "Let me guess. Kalim tried to throw a party?"

"And Cater," Jamil growled, the sound of something crashing in the background. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to manage one chaos gremlin? Now imagine two. They’ve cursed half the dorm—random objects are coming to life, and singing. And I don’t mean pleasant singing. I mean like if a banshee and a kazoo had a love child."

Lilia leaned in beside you, eyes glittering with delight. "Oho, this sounds entertaining! What did they do this time?"

Jamil sighed deeply, as if he’d just aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Kalim thought it would be fun to 'spice up' a party by enchanting the decorations. Cater encouraged him, saying it would make a great Magicam post. The result? The curtains are now tap-dancing, the chandelier won’t stop singing old sea shanties, and the punch bowl tried to bite me."

Lilia clapped his hands. "This sounds like an excellent way to spend the afternoon! Let’s go!"

You groaned. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because you’re the only one who can keep Lilia from making things worse," Jamil deadpanned.

Arriving at Scarabia was like stepping into a fever dream. The furniture was waltzing around the room, the ceiling fan was chanting, "Spin me right round, baby, right round," and the aforementioned punch bowl snarled at you as you walked in.

Kalim, of course, was having the time of his life, clapping to the rhythm of the furniture parade. Cater was filming everything, laughing as he tried to get the chandelier to do a TikTok dance.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Jamil hissed, his hair practically frazzled.

"Let’s fix this before someone dies," you muttered, pulling out the anti-curse toolkit Lilia had handed you on the way.

"Or before someone posts this to Magicam and the entire world sees it," Jamil added grimly, glaring at Cater.

It started smoothly enough—well, as smoothly as any curse-breaking session with Lilia could go. The two of you worked to unravel the enchantments while dodging flying pillows and shrieking party streamers.

Then, of course, you made the mistake of touching an enchanted lamp.

It burst into song—loud, off-key, and somehow extremely personal. The lyrics were all about your lack of a love life and questionable fashion choices. Before you could fight back, it tangled itself around your arms and legs, dragging you upward toward the chandelier.

"Hey, uh, Lilia? Little help!"

Lilia, ever the dramatic savior, leaped into action. With a mischievous grin, he sliced through the magical binds with a well-aimed spell and caught you mid-fall.

You blinked up at him, heart hammering in your chest. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, his fangs showing in a victorious smirk. He cradled you with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible given his stature.

"You alright there, my dear?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you muttered, face heating up. "Just…you know…trying not to die."

But your brain wasn’t focusing on that. It was too busy processing the fact that Lilia was holding you like you weighed nothing, and you could feel your pulse quickening. Damn it, why is my heart beating so fast?

He tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. "Are you sure? Your face is a bit flushed."

"Nope! Totally fine!" you squeaked, scrambling out of his arms as soon as your feet touched the ground.

Jamil, watching the whole thing from across the room, rolled his eyes. "Great. Now you’re cursed too."

"Shut up, Jamil."

It took another hour, but the dorm was finally back to normal—or as normal as Scarabia could be. Kalim apologized profusely, Cater promised to delete the footage (he didn’t), and Jamil looked like he might snap at any moment.

As you and Lilia walked out, you tried to calm your racing heart, but he leaned in with a knowing grin.

"Quite the adventure today, wasn’t it?"

"Sure," you replied quickly, hoping your face wasn’t still red.

He hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what’s got your heart racing so much. You’re not catching feelings for your favorite partner-in-chaos, are you?"

"Not a chance," you lied, your heart betraying you with another treacherous thump.

Lilia just chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if he believed you—or if he was just letting you stew in your own embarrassment for fun.

The enchanted orb buzzed frantically, and you groaned as you reached for it. The second you accepted the call, you heard Deuce.

“HELP! WE MESSED UP BAD!”

“Deuce?” you asked, already dreading the answer. “What did you do this time?”

Jack’s voice came through, exasperated and growly. “It wasn’t just him. I was there too.”

“Great,” you deadpanned. “So, what kind of mess am I cleaning up now?”

Deuce gulped. “We, uh… were practicing some spellwork for exams—”

“Right by the Spelldrive practice field,” Jack added grimly.

Your eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you—”

“Destroyed the field? Yeah,” Deuce admitted miserably. “But we didn’t mean to! The explosion was an accident!”

You heard a sharp, angry voice in the background: “AN ACCIDENT?! YOU DESTROYED HALF THE FIELD, YOU LITTLE—”

“Leona’s there?” you asked, already standing up.

Deuce nodded frantically. “He’s so mad. Please come before he kills us!”

“Stay put,” you said, grabbing your things. “And pray he doesn’t finish you off before we get there.”

The Spelldrive practice field was a warzone. One goalpost was completely obliterated, sand smoldered in random patches across the ground, and an entire section of the bleachers looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

Leona was standing in the middle of the chaos, arms crossed, glaring daggers at Deuce and Jack, who were huddled behind a tipped-over bench like it could save them. His team stood a safe distance away, clearly too smart to get involved.

You arrived with Lilia in tow, who was already grinning like he’d just stumbled upon the most entertaining show of the year.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Lilia mused, surveying the carnage. “It’s like an abstract painting of destruction.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, jogging toward the scene.

Leona’s sharp green eyes locked onto you. “Finally. You gonna fix this mess, or do I get to turn these two into sandbags?”

“Leona,” you said, stepping between him and the disaster twins, “We’ll handle it. Just… don’t murder them. Yet.”

Leona snorted. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Lilia hummed a jaunty tune as he began waving his hands over the destroyed sections of the field. Slowly, the sand settled, the goalpost reformed, and the bleachers stopped looking like they’d gone through a blender.

Meanwhile, you kept Leona from pouncing on Deuce and Jack, who were watching Lilia work with wide eyes.

“You two better hope I don’t find out about another ‘accident,’” Leona growled, looming over you.

“Relax,” you said, holding up a hand. “They’re idiots, not criminals. Save your energy for your team.”

Leona rolled his eyes but stepped back, muttering something about “babysitters.”

When everything was finally back in order, Lilia dusted off his hands with a satisfied smile. “That was quite fun. We should let those two cause chaos more often.”

You shot him a look. “Please don’t encourage them.”

Leona, arms crossed and clearly annoyed, stepped closer. “You’re done? Good. I’ll send Ruggie with something to pay you later.” Then he smirked, eyes flicking between you and Lilia. “Now keep your lovesick asses away from my practice field.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wha—?! Lovesick?”

Leona just walked off with a lazy wave, leaving you standing there, half-mortified.

Lilia leaned in, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Oh my. He really has a way with words, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t you start,” you muttered, your face burning.

But when you turned to walk away, Lilia was by your side, chuckling softly. He caught your wrist gently, pulling you to a stop for just a moment. “For what it’s worth,” he said, voice quieter and more serious, “you were quite impressive back there, keeping Leona from turning them into mincemeat.”

Your heart did a flip. “Uh… thanks?”

He let go with a grin, stepping back and returning to his usual playful tone. “Now, let’s see if we can avoid the next disaster, hmm?”

You weren’t sure if your face would ever cool down.

Potions class with the first-year gang was never uneventful. Today was no exception. The room smelled faintly of burnt caramel as Grim waved his tiny paws at Ace, who was leaning smugly on the table.

“I told you not to put that in!” Grim yelped.

“I barely touched it!” Ace shot back.

“It doesn’t matter who did it!” Sebek barked, slamming his hands on the table. “What matters is that our potion is—”

“About to blow,” Jack growled, pointing to the cauldron bubbling ominously.

“Wait—WHAT?!” you yelped, but it was too late.

The cauldron erupted, spraying a shimmering pink mist over everyone. The class erupted into chaos as Sebek shouted about “inferior techniques,” Epel coughed dramatically like he was dying, and Deuce tried (and failed) to douse the sparks with his coat.

You, unfortunately, caught the brunt of the potion to the face.

You thought the effects were mild at first—just a faint warmth in your chest and the echo of the sugary-sweet scent in your nose. But when you sat down at lunch with Lilia and Malleus, the symptoms became impossible to ignore.

Lilia was chatting animatedly, laughing at his own jokes and waving his fork in the air, while Malleus nodded thoughtfully. But you weren’t hearing a word.

Your brain had decided that the only thing worth focusing on was how kissable Lilia’s lips looked.

Wait, what?

You shook your head, trying to clear it, but it only got worse. Now you were noticing how nice his voice was. And his smile. And the way his hand brushed yours when he passed the salt—

Oh, no.

“Child of man,” Malleus said, pulling you from your internal meltdown, “you seem… distracted.”

You blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yeah. Distracted. Totally fine. Definitely not—uh—totally infatuated with Lilia or anything.”

Lilia looked up, smirking. “Oh? How flattering.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “IT’S THE POTION!”

Malleus watched you pace back and forth in the hallway, his expression somewhere between amused and curious.

“You have to fix me,” you begged, grabbing his shoulders. “This has to be the potion talking. There’s no way I just—randomly—started thinking about Lilia like that!”

Malleus tilted his head, his eyes studying you intently. “You truly believe you are under an enchantment?”

“Yes! Of course!” You gestured wildly. “I mean, it’s Lilia! He’s my partner in crime! He’s—he’s—”

“Kissable?” Malleus offered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Your hands dropped to your sides. “You are so not helping.”

He stepped closer, his presence calm but commanding, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Very well, child of man. Allow me to assess your condition.”

Malleus leaned forward, his magic swirling faintly around him as he studied you with eerie precision.

After a moment, he straightened, folding his arms. “The potion you were exposed to was a failure. Its intended effects are nonexistent.”

You froze. “What are you saying?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “I am saying that you are not under a spell. Your feelings are entirely your own.”

You stared at Malleus in horror.

“So… you’re telling me… I’m not cursed?”

“Precisely.”

“And this… this whole… wanting to kiss Lilia thing…” You paused, voice dropping to a mortified whisper. “That’s just me?”

Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed.”

You covered your face with your hands. “No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lilia’s voice drifted from the next room. “Are you done conspiring with Malleus, beastie? Lunch is getting cold!”

You peeked through your fingers at Malleus, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying your suffering.

“Good luck, child of man,” he said, patting your shoulder.

You groaned. “I’m going to die.”

And yet, as you returned to the table and sat down next to Lilia, who greeted you with his usual teasing grin, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

You didn’t think it could get any worse than being late for class, but that was before Grim decided to experiment with potions unsupervised. Now, you and Lilia were sprinting through the halls of NRC, dodging a cursed army of flying spoons.

“I told Grim not to use the potions lab as a snack bar!” you gasped, barely ducking as a spoon zoomed past your head with terrifying precision.

Lilia, running beside you, was grinning like this was the most fun he’d had all week. “I must admit, this is an impressive level of chaos. Even I wouldn’t have thought to curse cutlery!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you panted, grabbing his arm as another wave of spoons turned the corner. “Hide!”

The two of you dove behind a nearby tapestry, pressing against the wall as the spoons zipped past, their metallic clinking fading into the distance.

For a moment, it was quiet—except for the pounding of your heart.

Your breathing slowly steadied, but your heart didn’t. Not when Lilia was so close, his eyes gleaming with excitement and his cheeks flushed from the chase.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lilia,” you blurted, voice trembling but determined, “I’m in love with you.”

Lilia blinked, his surprise evident for a split second before a soft smile curved his lips. “Ah, I see. Was it the spoons that gave me away, or my undeniable charm?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m serious!”

He chuckled, gently pulling your hands away to meet your eyes. “So am I. I’ve felt the same for quite some time.”

Your breath hitched. “Really?”

“Really,” he murmured, leaning closer. His lips brushed yours, soft and fleeting, but it sent your heart racing like you were being chased by a thousand cursed spoons.

He pulled back, his grin mischievous. “Now, let’s survive this first date, shall we?”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you from your hiding spot just as the spoons began circling back like a swarm of metallic bees.

“Run!”

You laughed despite yourself, sprinting hand-in-hand with Lilia as the chaos erupted around you once more.

And yet, as you glanced at him—his hair wild, his smile unshakable, his fingers warm around yours—you couldn’t help but think:

I want this forever.

Masterlist

[nicodiangelato]

Here's what I do that helps me get stuff done on time without stressing myself sick:

Split tasks up into their bare, basic components. Then, make a checklist of each component. Planners are my best friends, because I have an easier time remembering to do something if I write it down.

I find it a lot easier for me, motivation wise, to get through an essay by writing :

"do research/ find sources,

find quotations and create citations,

create an outline,

write paragraph (1,2,3, etc.),

edit rough draft,

create final draft"

because I can check off each little part and still feel like I'm making real, tangible progress vs. just putting down "turn in essay by (deadline)" in my planner.

Then, figure out what's the absolute *bare minimum* you need to do each day (or any other incriment of time that fits your schedule) to meet your deadline. Whatever it is, make sure to add an extra day or two as padding, so you can meet that deadline even if something comes up. Don't be afraid of asking for extensions or setting up accomodations. Be realistic with your limitations and time constraints.

For example: I have 5 hours of lecture I need to get through over Thanksgiving break to meet a deadline. Over 6 days, I need to watch at least 45 mins of a lecture each day. For me, 45 of lecture time is doable over a day because I know I dont have to do it all in one sitting. Realistically, I know it will take me anywhere from 1-5 hours to watch and take notes for these 45 minutes of lecture, because I am preemptively assuming I will need to take some breaks in between.

Breaks: when I get bored, I dont fight it. Instead, I take time to pivot. This is particularly helpful when I find myself doing something I have no interest in, and my brain does not for any reason want to let me do it. I take the time to scroll aimlessly, but also to get a drink/eat/use the restroom. I'm actually writing this while on a hw break right now. And when I get back from my break, all my stuff is in the same place where I left it at my desk, so I have a much better time easing my way into being productive again. If I still don't wanna work on what I was before, I start working on something relatively quick & easy from my to do list that I *do* want to do and ride the wave of productivity I get from finishing that.

The last part: reward yourself for the small victories. Yes checking things off a to do list is fun, but so are stickers. My planners are FULL of gold stars, smiley faces, and cute character stickers. There's a reason teachers use them, they are amazing motivators.

There's a bunch of adhd advice out there that's like "people with adhd tend to work better under deadlines due to the anxiety so here are ways to artificially induce a stress response in order to get you to get work done" and it's like well what if I don't want to be stressed out all the time in order to function

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Shadow

Mingyu has a little fight with you.

Requested? Yes!

Word count: 1.2k

Genre: Angst, with a tiny bit of comfort and fluff

Mingyu watches you slam the car door behind you as you exit and he grits his teeth. You’re mad at him. Which is totally unfair because he should be mad at you.

And he is, so he doesn’t wait long before jumping out of the car and following you into the apartment building and into the elevator. He grinds his teeth a little more when you almost let the elevator door close before he can enter.

At the apartment door, you slam your key into the lock and twist violently. The door flings open and you both begin roughly putting away shoes and coats in tense silence.

You go to the kitchen and get a glass of water, and he sits down at the dining room table facing you, tugging at his tie to loosen it. “So that’s it?” He bites. “The silent treatment?”

You narrow your eyes at him over the edge of the glass. “You want me to say something? Right now?”

It’s spoken like a dare. A challenge of ‘you couldn’t handle what I want to say’. You should know better than to issue such a statement because the grinding in Mingyu’s jaw is becoming downright painful. “When have you ever not had something to say? So you might as well say it,” he insists, palm slapping onto the table.

You give him a long, harsh glare, before setting the glass down to cross your arms across your chest. You’re still dressed up, with your dress tight and plunging at the neckline. He’s so mad that he’s not that distracted by it, even though you looking like that is the whole reason you two are mad at each other now.

“You’re an ass,” you start. He rolls his eyes because you’ve called him that a thousand times. He waits for you to get to the good stuff. “You got temperamental and got us kicked out of our favorite club.”

“With good reason,” Mingyu rages, sitting up in his seat. “He was all over you. And you were letting him!”

“And that was reason enough to get in his face like that?” You counter hotly. “That was embarrassing, Mingyu. It’s a good thing we’ve been banned because I never want to show my face there again.”

“And it’s embarrassing to me for you to entertain anyone else like that,” Mingyu bites back, jumping from his seat. “He was touching you, whispering into your ear, asking you to go home with him, and you stood there and played coy and let him.”

“Mingyu, do you think he would have listened if I asked him to back off? Truly, think about it for a second,” you seethe. “I was trying to play it safe until you got back from the bathroom!”

“Then you make him back off. You don’t make me make him back off and then get mad at me for it,” Mingyu raises his voice, fueled by the fiery look you’re giving him.

“Nothing you did was discreet! You were practically lifting him by the collar. Where is the subtle ‘hey, babe. Who’s this?’ to get him to back off without violence?” He’s even more irritated at how you drop your tone to mimic him.

“I’m not going to be discreet when he’s touching you,” Mingyu snaps. “And you stood there and let him.”

“I told you, it was to be safe!” You cry out, angry tears pricking your eyes. “I knew you were coming back, I was waiting for you to come help me get away from him. And you did that tenfold.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs, heading toward the door again. “I can’t do this with you right now. I’m going to Wonwoo’s. Don’t wait up.”

You watch him shove his feet in his shoes again, slamming the door behind him.

~

It’s hours before Mingyu comes back. The apartment is dark and quiet, and he can still feel the tension hanging in the air from earlier. But now, the tension doesn’t make him angry. It makes him feel guilty.

Wonwoo had listened to a few of the bullet points of the fight and had interrupted to tell Mingyu he was in the wrong. He trusted Wonwoo, so when he opened his mouth to argue, something about Wonwoo’s look told him to shut up and listen. And he had, while Wonwoo set him straight on a few things.

He comes into the bedroom and can tell you’re still awake, even though your back is to him. He changes clothes and hangs by the foot of the bed for a few long seconds. “Can I stay in here or do you want me to go to the couch?” He asks weakly.

In the darkness, he can see your shoulders tense, before finally saying, “you can stay.” Your voice cracks roughly, a tell-tale sign that you’ve cried since he left. It tugs at his heart stings, but he climbs under the covers before you can change your mind. He lays on his side, staring at your back, eventually reaching out. Touch is a love language for both of you, but he still does it hesitantly just in case, hand gently landing on your arm, thumb rubbing your skin softly. “I’m sorry.” He hopes you hear how much be means it, but he’s still sad when you tense under his hand.

“For what?” You sniffle.

Mingyu sighs softly. “For losing my temper. For getting us kicked out. And for getting mad at you when you were really just concerned for your safety. I shouldn't have left you alone in the first place.”

You let a few long seconds tick by before you finally roll over. He can see more evidence of your crying in your red eyes. He reaches out to swipe a thumb underneath one. It’s dry now. A small reprieve.

“Do you trust me?”

Your question makes his eyes flare. “Of course, I do,” he says passionately. “I trust you more than anyone else.”

Your eyes are a little guarded. “And you know I’m yours, right? Just like I hope you’re mine?”

Mingyu nods enthusiastically, because possessive as it sounds, he wants to be yours and he wants you to be his. “Of course. That’s all that I want.”

“Then know I’m yours and protect me from creeps in a club,” you say simply. “I didn't want him to be near me at all, but I was nervous and just waiting for you to come back. Then you were nearly in a fistfight as soon as you found me.”

Mingyu frowns. “Yeah, maybe not my finest moment.”

This makes you giggle and the sound is so soothing that it makes him a little emotional. “Maybe not,” you agree. He scoots closer to you, arms folding around you while he buries his face into your neck. It becomes less of him holding you and more like you holding him and it makes you giggle again. “My big, tough, scary boyfriend is actually the biggest baby,” you mumble, running a hand through his hair.

It makes him giggle a little too. “Only for you.”

[iwannaleavemymind]

Till his blood technique turns white!!

(Sadist choso)

CHOSO X READER (smut, minors dni you WILL be blocked❤️)

Warnings; degradation, dirty talk, going in raw (wrap it before you tap it!) dumbification, sub! Reader, rough sex, hair pulling, reader gets called yk s!ut, talking her through it, stuff like that.

(Re upload because I accidentally deleted this fic earlier😭)

You’d think choso would go easy on you? He’s so nice towards yuji and yuki-

so why’s he fucking you like he hates you?

But oh god does it feel good.

“F-fuck Cho’ I dunno if I’m-“ a harsh slap on your ass shuts you up, your face buried in the pillow, whining in protest; his cock buried deep inside your cunt, a brutal pace set, hips snapping to meet yours again and again.

“Hm? Cmon girl I know you’re not so dumb after a few strokes, right?” You can feel the shit eating smirk on his lips on the shell of your ear, fucking you deeper in response to your breathy moans, your mind a fucked out cloud of need.

His hands grip your hips so mean- watching the fat of your ass jiggle every time he hits that sweet spot inside you making whines and moans slip past you lips-

He’s so deep too- so mean and so fucking good.

“Hah- fuck oh my god ‘Cho I’m gonna cum!” You moan into the pillow, eyes rolling back in ecstasy, your back being pressed down with one of his strong hands, the other holding you just where he wants you, his leaking tip hitting your g spot every. Damn. Time.

You couldn’t last long, not when he’s fucking you like he knows your body inside out.

White slick covers his cock, lubricating his length and allowing him to fuck you faster, I mean not that you had a problem in the first place.

He was just so fucking big!!

“Dumb slut- Cummin’ that easily hm? Fuck your so wet.” Mean words flow from his lips, his hand lifting from your back to you with your clit, a meek whimper scraping your kiss bitten lips.

Hips pistoning in and out of your tight cunt makes his mind feral, you feel so fucking good and your taking him so so well, he should reward you right?

The sound of skin on skin reverberating throughout the room is the only noise filling it, although besides your fucked out hoarse voice and low grunts and moans coming from the man behind you.

“Cmon baby tell me how bad you want it, how bad you want me to fill that greedy pussy of yours hm? Fuckin- hah- takin me so well”

His cock slams into you ruthlessly over and over, your sensitive cunt twitching around him, squeezing the life out of him.

Your release trickles down your thigh, cumming around him multiple times already, face flushed and pupils blown wide.

“Choso- p-please!” You cry out, begging for another release.

“Mm, not good enough slut.”

You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling your head back and fucking you doggystyle, his free hand grabbing your ass meanly, slapping it over and over, his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

And oh my god. Your orgasm comes so fast and hard you didn’t even see it coming, tears stream down your cheeks from overstimulation, crying and begging for him to slow down, but do you really want him to? No.

Squirting all over his dick is enough to make him go fucking crazy for him, your his. Anybody else’s? They can get fucked.

“Mine, y’hear that? She fuckin loves me hm?”

Your syrupy sweet cunt is teetering him on the edge of being pussy drunk, but god he’s so mean about it too!

“Choso- pleasepleaseplease-!” You manage to whimper out, choking and hiccuping on your words, incoherent babbling coming from your lips.

“Oh fuuuuck baby your so fuckin’ good” he moans out, his lips forming and o shape and his eyes slamming shut as a loud moan flows from his lips, cumming so deep inside you he might get you pregnant.

It’s so messy too, your combined juices making a mess of the sheets beneath you, his cum spilling out of your abused cunt. He releases the grip on your hair, letting you body fall limply into the pillow and pulling out of you with a wet pop!

“Heh- sorry baby didn’t mean to be so mean.”

[sturniolohouse]

dad!matt blurb - reader comes home to matt supporting june's new obsession with dogs.

"Matt... what are you doing?" I ask as I emerge from the hallway before spotting June sitting on our bed, flailing her tiny arms in a oversized hooded dog towel.

"Mama's home!" Matt beams at June and she squeals, the hood slipping over her eyes before he gently adjusts it, making sure the ears sit right. 

I stare at them, trying my best to keep a straight face. "I leave the house for a couple hours, and you’ve turned our daughter into a dog?" I deadpan, half-serious, leaning against the doorway,

"Don’t pin this on me," he says with mock seriousness. "This was all Junie's idea. She picked out her new towel,"

"Picked it out?" I repeat sarcastically, putting all my stuff down. "Matt, she's eight months old." I point out, trying not to laugh when I see the hood swallow her head again.

She looks so happy, her little legs kicking like she's having the time of her life.

Matt shrugs, still grinning.  "Look, she loves it, I couldn't resist." He sits next to her on the bed. 

Ever since Junie met Madison's dogs, Presley and Toast, she's been obsessed with dogs. Seeing them play together had her laughing hysterically. Plus, they're so good with her, so patient. Now, even when we go on our daily walks in the park, her face lights up at the sight of every dog we pass.

Matt can't wait until we go back to Boston so she can see Trevor again with her new-found love of dogs.

I shake my head, walking over to them and get a closer look at our little "puppy." She looks up at me with her big blue eyes, babbling happily, showing off her bottom two teeth.

"Do you like it Junie?" I ask her as she reaches for me, tugging on my shirt to lift herself up.

"Mamamamama" she mumbles, standing up with her grip on me. I instantly place my hands on either side of her incase she loses balance, even though she'll fall right on the bed if she did. 

Matt watches proudly, his eyes wide, "Look at you go, kid," he praises, moving to stand behind me, hands on his hips. 

"Good job, baby," I encourage her, laughing when she squeezes her eyes shut and tosses her head back with excitement. She's nearly falls back on her bum but I steady her, keeping her close to me. Her towel falls away and I see her clad in a new matching puppy print PJ set.

I smirk and look to Matt, "Let me guess...she picked this out too?"

"Nope, that one was all me." He says proudly.

She's been standing while holding onto things recently. The first time she did it was actually around Chris a couple weeks ago, and he nearly lost his mind.

Matt had driven Nick to the warehouse to work on a project and Chris stood back to give me a hand watching June as I got my own work done in the old podcast studio.

When I heard him call my name frantically, my heart dropped, thinking the worst. But when I came downstairs, I found him frozen on the couch, arms out, eyes wide and staring at Junie, who was standing up, gripping the arm of the couch for balance. 

"She's never done that before, right?" He laughs in shock, grabbing his phone out to film as my hands cover my mouth.

I shake my head, "No... Junie, where did you learn that? You're making Mama nervous," I said, half-laughing, slowly making my way toward her as she smiles at me without a care in the world.

"I swear on my life, I looked away for less than a minute. She was just��playing with her toys on the mat and the next minute she's standing." he recounts, still in shock and I sit down on the floor next to June who moves immediately to my lap. 

"Guess we gotta get to baby-proofing," I joke, biting at June's hand playfully when she reaches for my face.

When Matt got home and heard what happened, he was so mad he missed it. He tried everything to get her to do it again—putting her toys on the coffee table, the couch, even trying to get her to stand while holding his fingers. But each time, she'd just plop right back down, giving him a cheeky grin.

She always manages to stand whenever we're not looking—almost as if she knows how much we want to catch her in the act.

But today, I guess she's ready to be a show-off.

She bounces a bit on her little legs and looks over at Matt, her face bright with excitement. He praises her softly, his voice full of pride, and she giggles in delight, soaking up every bit of the attention.

"Standing before you even crawl... you gotta slow down, June-bug." I say to her playfully, as she looks between Matt and I.

"She's about ready to walk," Matt says, letting her grab his finger for more balance.

"Don't say that," I murmur, a pang of bittersweetness in my chest as I watch them. "She's my baby."

"She'll always be your baby," He reminds me softly, kissing my forehead. I scoop her into my arms at that moment and smother her cheek with kisses, squeezing her tight to me.

Then, to my surprise, she scrunches her little face and sniffles, leaning forward to sniff at mine, just like Presley always does to her.

I burst into laughter, my head tossing back, "Oh my God, Matt, did you teach her this?"

Matt chuckles, hands in the air in mock defense. "I swear I didn’t! I think Presley’s just rubbing off on her."

I giggle, but wince as Junie decides to tug at a fistful of my hair.

I'm going to be bald by the time I'm 24.

"Hey, hey, easy kid," Matt says softly, stepping forward to help. 

He gently pries Junie's surprisingly strong grip from my hair, his face twisting with a mix of concentration and sympathy as he carefully untangles her tiny fingers. 

"She's got a real talent for that," he jokes, gently rubbing the tender spot where my hair was tugged. 

I huff, adjusting Junie on my hip after sweeping my hair onto my other shoulder, far from her reach. 

Junie babbles in response, her tiny hands smacking against my chest, gripping my necklace instead. Matt takes the opportunity to lean in and blow a raspberry on her cheek, making her squeal with delight and let up her grip on my necklace. Her giggles are contagious, and I find myself laughing along with her.

"You’re a little menace, kid." I tease, kissing her on the top of her head. "A cute one, though."

[foone]

Some technical details under the cut if anyone is interested:

As someone who makes Stupid Keyboards (near to Stupid Mice, and don't think I don't have Stupid Mice ideas): I think this is fake, as in they didn't actually make a Toy Horse That Is A Mouse.

So, first of all, out of context reasons: It was made by Pablo Rochat for Yahoo. He's a director of a group of artists who do marketing stuff for companies. He doesn't have this one on his page yet but based on their other stuff, it seems to be mostly photoshop/video editing based.

And here's the thing: Faking a mouse is frighteningly easy.

Record your screen as you move a real mouse

Play back that video while you move something that's not a real mouse

Done. It looks like it works.

The final reason is that I don't think their lens would work. See, modern optical mice are based on a light + lens + tiny camera. The light shines on the surface so the camera can see the surface move.

The problem is that it's focused right at a set distance, which is supposed to be set to how far the sensor is from the mousepad. Try picking up your optical mouse now (assuming you're not on a phone or laptop): You'll find that it works while not touching the mousepad, but only for a couple millimeters. Once you get farther, it stops.

The reason is the lens: It's trying to get the most contrast possible at a very specific distance, and once you pick it up by more than a few millimeters, it gets too blurry to work.

So lets think about how you'd put a sensor in the horse toy.

The obvious place is in the horse's belly: but then your lens wouldn't work. You'd need a custom lens to make it work. That sounds like a lot of work, and it might not even work with the standard optical chip they use.

The second option would be the hooves. This would work! you're at the right distance, you just need to run the cable down the leg, and you're golden.

Except those hooves are too small. Optical mice are built on standard chips these days:

The chip is a specific size because it is floating over a hole in the PCB. The bottom of the chip is a camera. The lens is a piece of plastic that fits in there. It's hard to tell the scale from this picture I stole, but the problem is the chip is too big to fit down the hoof of that toy horse. Maybe you could do it if you had a horse with some Big Hooves? but there's no way to fit one of these in there. Sorry.

So yeah. They faked it.

Unless they got clever and faked it in another way: That "grass" mousepad could be a tablet. It could be multi-touching the hooves, and then transmitting their location to the PC.

You'd need to wire up the horse so the capacitive touch works, or use a resistive touch screen, but you're still cheating a little.

But all that is hard: faking it completely is easy. So I'm very sure that's what they did. I'd do the same if I was doing art as a client of a company and I had a deadline. It doesn't affect the video if this is "real" or "fake".

btw: I don't say this to lessen anyone's enjoyment of it or as a "callout", I'm just interested in "how real is this" as someone who makes Weird Tech Art too.

Bruh

[miaoua3]

Hello! Can you write an sfw/nsfw headcannon version for soonyoung pls? Love your writing!🫰

hii! ofc i can, it would be my pleasure, i hope you enjoy this!

Husband! Hoshi Headcanons

•(sfw! hcs):

we all already know that he’s a cuddle bug, but the extent that his need to be touching you goes to is beyond what any of us could imagine. he’s constantly up in your space, touching you in any way possible. if you are doing chores around the house, instead of helping you by doing something, he will just hang onto your shirt and follow you around, talking animatedly. if you are sitting down, you better expect for his head to be resting on your shoulder

whenever he needs something, he just calls for you (aka screams “baaaabee!”through the house until you hear him and come to him lmao), doesn’t matter that most of the times the thing that he’s looking for is right in front of him, he’s a bit blind sometimes (or so he tells, in reality he does it because he finds your annoyed little pout so adorable)

instead of kissing, he loves to often rub your noses together as a sign of affection, something about just feels so silly and cute and domestic to him he can rarely resist the urge to do it, plus you always smile so brightly whenever he does it so its a win-win situation

he loves that with you he can be as childish and silly as he wants, that you will always join him in his silly missions to make everyone laugh, that you will always laugh along with him no matter how ridiculous and stupid his jokes are. he loves that you are his youth quite literally, and that with you along his side, he can climb on top of the world

three words: matching tiger pyjamas. you didn’t have much of a choice, really, he just bought them for you two one day, and as you tried to let him down gently, his big brown puppy eyes looked at you pleadingly, ready to say “please?” as you were about to refuse him, and suddenly you just sighed in defeat. so guess which pyjamas you two wear the majority of the month, except for the few says it takes to wash and dry them?

compliments you all the time-both when he intends to and when he isn’t even aware that what he said is considered a compliment. for example, if you are getting ready, doing your makeup or taking it off, he will just come behind you, hug you and while smiling say “you are so very pretty, the prettiest in this whole wide world. i must’ve saved korea as a nation in my past life to get the honour of having you in this life.”, or for the times when he is unaware of it-you were just looking at some flowers as you were walking through a botanic garden when he said “i don’t know much about flowers, but whenever i see this flower (points to a, say, hibiscus), it reminds me of you, because you both are so pretty and look so gentle.” bro isn’t even trying yet he got you crying

loves loves LOVES surprising you with at-home picnics, just as you walk through the door of your house, he’s running towards you, taking your hand so he can lead you to the living room where the stuff is all set up-the white bedsheet handing from two chairs, under the sheet fairy lights wrapped around the chairs, a blanket on the floor with lots and lots of food spread on it. he loves how it always makes you smile and how easy it is to make you happy

•(nsfw! hcs):

has stamina of a BEAST, like it isn’t enough that he seemingly gets boners all the time, the sight of your collarbones is enough to make him hug your from behind, slowly grinding his hips against your ass while he mumbles “please babe, lemme make you feel good hm? it’s been so long since i’ve fucked you, let me make you cum on my dick” (btw it hasn’t even been that long, you two had sex two days prior but ok lmao). the moment he sees you close your eyes, he knows he’s won. cue at least 3 hours of him pounding into you, his skin slapping against yours, both your skins burning from the force they meet. at some point you feel so exhausted that you just lay there, face in the pillow, while he holds your hips in the air as he fucks you from behind

is so enthusiastic about eating you out that he overstimulates you, not only are his fingers fast inside of your pussy, but he’s sucking on your clit so hard, it makes tears fall from your eyes very easily. he just wants you to feel so good (but also to squirt all over his face) that he can spend hours just lapping at your juices, mumbling “c’mom pretty girl, just one more, make a mess on my face, that’s what it’s for, it’s for you to sit on it and make yourself cum on it” bsjqbsjqkq

speaking of-dirty talk with him goes CRAAAZY, not even because he wants it to, he just says whatever it’s on his mind, his thoughts a mess thrown up the moment they appear in his mind. he’s a moaning mess, sucking hickeys into your skin, kissing you sloppily, all while he’s repeating “pussy so good, fuck, want to stay here forever. want to cum inside of you all the time, to make you full with my cum-shit, ahh, so tight, im gonna-“ cue more moaning and whining as he nears his end

on the same note- breeding kink. we all know that one clip where he said he wants a whole football team (thank you scoups for the metaphor lmao). and even now, he often talks about getting married and having kids, so i think the moment he put that ring on you, he got down to BUSINESS. i’m talking he soaks your pussy AND your sheets with hair cum, if he could, he would make you wear a plug so none of it spills out and that it’s 100% sure that you end up pregnant from it. the thoughts of your heavy, full and lactating breasts, your round belly, and a little girl that has a smile just like yours, haunt his dreams on the daily

he is unintentionally so rough, like not only does he manhandle you into positions that he needs you in, if you are too far gone to be listening to him, he will just grab you by your neck to get your attention, or pull on your hair so you can watch him fuck you in the mirror, eyes trained on your gaping mouth and bouncing tits. the thing is- he doesn’t do it out of the need to be dominant, it’s just that it’s a part of his fantasy, of exactly what he imagined for that night to be, so if you aren’t following it, he will take the matter into his own hands (quite literally).

he isn’t really sure why, but he loves it when you end up crying from the overstimulation and pleasure, and when you mascara runs down your cheeks. you just look so ruined, and it makes him feel so good and smug that he’s the only one that has the honour of seeing you sobbing for him to both stop and to cum inside of you, the only one who gets to squish your mascara stained cheeks together and make you focus on him, the only one that makes your legs tremble and shake every day. the only one that gets to fuck a baby into you. the only one you crave.

(act surprised for this one) he is low-key into collars. he isn’t all that sure about leashes, but a pretty little collar wrapped around your pretty neck? and if it has a heart shaped buckle? he is a goner. he won’t ever recover from the amount of fantasy material the sight gives him, how primal it makes him feel. plus the look you make whenever he puts two fingers through that heart shaped buckle and pulls you towards him by it? it will literally make him kneel in front of a god and thank him for that sight (not really something he should discuss with a god, yknow, given that it’s about your sex life and all that but eh, whatever lol)

[vigilskeep]

Do we have any canon information on Viago’s age? I tried looking it up but didn’t find anything really, and it’s bothering me. I want to figure out the age gap and stuff with my rook de riva….

we do not! but let me break down the numbers with which we can guess at one so you can all suffer with me through this

ok so apparently, based on, like, comics writers on message boards, we know the comic series where teia and viago make their first tiny appearance, in ventus, is set abt 9:44 dragon. in eight little talons, the tevinter nights short story we get most of our teia and viago knowledge from, they talk about the ventus job like it happened quite recently. it’s the most recent time they worked together, and they don’t act like it’s been that long apart. so let’s say for the sake of argument that we can put eight little talons at roughly 9:45 dragon. i think that basically checks out with the timeline on the antaam occupation (which in eight little talons is on the horizon but hasn’t begun)

what we do know about ages in eight little talons is that teia is 28. so in 9:45 viago is older than 28 and old enough to remark on her being “the youngest talon in history”, but young enough that a 28-year-old is into him with no remark from either of them on him being particularly older or any kind of a large age gap, which given how truly endlessly insecure he is here about whether she’s really into him or just playing around, i feel would come up if it existed. so in his 30s... somewhere? which would mean he was born between 9:06 and 9:15 dragon

dragon age: the veilguard takes place somewhere between 9:49 and 9:54 dragon. (i know.) the veilguard character creator says it’s eight years since the breach (9:49). patrick weekes on bluesky plus the date for thirty years ago featured in the online short story the flame eternal say it’s 9:52. and john epler in a bioware discord q&a says it’s ten years since trespasser (9:54).

so if you believe he’s 30 in eight little talons and that the game is set in 9:49 then he’s 34. but if you believe he’s like 38 in eight little talons and the game is set in 9:54, then he’s 47.

conclusion: ????????

i guess ignoring everything said or published prior to the game, trusting the game itself, and committing to 9:49 veilguard is the smart move though. so that cuts down our variables. if we accept the 9:49 date and that he was in his 30s in 9:45 then he’s... somewhere from 34-43 in veilguard

a further note is i believe the datamined files for veilguard say that teia is 28 and viago 32. this can’t be true because teia was 28 in eight little talons which, even if it wasn’t in 9:45, was definitely at least a couple of years ago. but you could take that as their canon age gap and make viago 32 in eight little talons and thus born in 9:13 dragon and 36 in veilguard? if you felt like it.

[buginacup]

What was the hardest Beastie for you to design in general! There's so many fantastic designs I'm curious which one had you stumped if any at all. Also how on earth did you come up with so many funny little expressions! I feel like I see a new one everytime I play, they're fantastic! Thank you for your wonderful touch to this game, such lovely little guys!

What was the hardest Beastie for you to design in general?

One in particular comes to mind but it's still sort of a secret. I'll try to return to this when more people know about it so I can talk about it in particular!

There were plenty of other snags, though. In particular Crabaret was so so hard to pose. They don't have finished sprites yet, but Crabaret is unique in that their final sprites will not flip (always crab walking), instead they have two sets of poses for w/e direction they're facing.

Have you ever tried to imagine a crab pivoting on a "waist"? A crab doesn't have a waist! And I gave its torso such a naturalistic shape from every angle other than front why on god's GREEN EARTH DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF!

Around the time I was doing poses for this beastie I started experiencing some (still quite present!) nerve pain/numbness in my hands. For other designs (like Yueffowl) I've done vector art with my mouse to give my hands a break, but try as I did I couldn't do low-res art in a way that communicated the stupid ridiculously nuanced shape I gave this crab, so it was a slow process of sketching out the color-coded body part position in little bursts, using supplemental 3D modeling for stuff I had no means to draw;

Don't get me wrong I'm quite proud of Crabaret but good lord this one was months of on and off work.

How on earth did you come up with so many funny little expressions?

I can't take all the credits on the expressions! Nearly all of them were originally drawn by Greg, but at a resolution that looked really blurry at the size the faces wound up being. I get real fussy about pixel resolution in a way that Greg doesn't, so I asked if I could redraw them at the size they're currently used. Here's a side by side of some of the old/new faces.

As you can see a lot of their soul was already there! I mostly just pushed the shape language of them and sharpened them. Greg wanted them to still feel like his drawings and they definitely do!

[stalkedbytrains]

The air this morning was crisp, cool, almost but not quite the first frost.

The kind of morning that was perfect for sitting on the bench on the porch and drinking a beautiful warm coffee.

The hero sat there, drinking their morning coffee, watching the sun fully pull itself out of the horizon.

From out of the forest came a tall, imposing figure. Their hands were covered in dirt and mud and leaves.

The figure stalked right up to the hero on the porch.

"Where did you go?"

"I was out in the darkest part of the forest burying my old stuff."

"Before sunrise?"

"Dark lords and dark deeds are best done before the sun."

"You're so weird."

"It's ritual. It just feels right."

"Go get cleaned up, there's coffee inside for you."

The former dark lord, smiled. A fun, mischievous smile. They advanced on the blanket covered hero.

"Oh no! Don't you come over here all covered in mud! Don't you dare!"

Their companion's voice dropped a few levels, in a way that could have been intimidating, sexy, or both. "But I am so cold. I desire your warmth. Give me your warmth."

They advanced on the hero, dirty hands out stretched.

"Noooo!" the hero cried in mock distress, barely containing their laughter, as they were enveloped by the large, built, dirty dark lord. They tried to fight off their old enemy, but it was a losing fight.

After a moment, the dark lord settled on the porch bench behind their hero, their arms wrapped around the smaller figure. Their cold and dirty body greedily drinking in the warmth of the hero.

"Mmm... warmth," the once evil overlord said as they kissed the exposed neck of the hero with cold lips. "I will take it all from you."

The hero laughed, reaching back to put their hand on the back of the villain's head to keep them close.

"Do you think they bought it?" the hero asked. "Do you think they're going to search for us? Do you think it's finally over?"

"It better be," the dark lord said. "We didn't give them any reason to suspect we're still alive. Our finale was a spectacle. But I suspect people will always be looking for you."

"But I don't want to be anywhere but here," the hero whispered. "With you."

"Good," the villain said as they tightened their grip around the hero's hips. "I want you to be mine and only mine. And I want to only be your's."

The hero grinned. "But you do know where you left your stuff. Just in case."

"Just in case. It'll come back if I need it. But we won't. Where did you put your stuff?"

"I just put it in the cellar. In a box."

The villain finally leaned away from the hero, putting some distance between them. "I can't believe I love you. You have no style, no panache, no gravitas. Your hero attire in a box in a cellar? How trite!"

"And what do you think I should have done? Placed my sword in a stone? Given my armor to some pair of stone golems that only talk in riddles and puzzles?"

"At a minimum."

"But then people might look for me even harder."

"Or they will accept that the mantle will only pass to the next hero when needed."

"Why? Do you think there is going to be another evil overlord, leader of darkness to replace you?"

"No one that will be as attractive as me."

"Don't flatter yourself," the hero said teasingly, but with a stolen kiss. "Now go get cleaned up, so we can have breakfast together. Like I've wanted to for a long time."

"And if I want to dine on... something else?"

"Oh! You..."

"I don't hear a no."

The former dark lord stood up, suddenly tightening their grip on the hero, lifting them with the motion and moving into the small cottage with delightful peals of laughter from the now retired hero.

------

For years it was good. Perfect.

The world had not needed their hero for a long time.

The reforms and changes they introduced meant there need not be a villain to challenge and destroy the system.

Until one day when the hero didn't come home.

The former dark lord knew immediately that something was wrong when the sun had set without the hero coming back home.

Such a thing was unthinkable. No contact or message. No, that wasn't something they would ever do.

There was a feeling in the air. The dark lord tried to deny it. It was just the winds of an early winter, even though they knew that wasn't the truth.

With a twitch, a movement that was a familiar one, a long unused bit of muscle memory, the pieces of the office of Dark Lord flew from their long ago buried tomb in the darkest part of the woods and joined their master.

Heavy, sharp, precise dark metal gauntlets that pinched a little at softened skin but quickly grew and changed and shifted to fit perfectly. The dark helm settled gently on their head, fitting perfectly like it used to so long ago. The cloak was covered in dirt and dead leaves, but that only added to the aesthetic of the thing. It wrapped itself around the dark lord in a cool, comforting, almost forgotten embrace.

The last of the dark lord's attire was assembled and it felt familiar and cold in a way that they had grown away from but couldn't entirely forget.

With everything they'd need they walked, trespassing through shadows, and locked doors, and forgotten ritual sites, until they found their way back to a place that used to be home.

A dark, foreboding, cold castle at the edge of the world.

It was occupied.

Someone was trying to take their mantle. And as far as they cared, they could have it.

But these kinds of people always had to do something showy to cement their power.

"Ah, I was wondering when I would hear-" the new villain said, but they were cut off as the previous dark lord immediately closed the distance and clasped a strong hand on their neck and squeezed.

"I understand the game. I know what you are up to. But this time it won't work. Because you clearly don't understand boundaries. You took something that belongs to me."

The new villain smiled.

"Oh old timer. Perhaps you forgot something as well. Dark can't fight against the dark. You have no power here. You're just old, out of shape, and soft. This will go quickly."

The dark lord laughs as the upstart pulled themselves free.

"Magic isn't a muscle, it's not something that can wither and die. It's a reservoir. And I still have magic to burn. So while I can't kill you with it. I don't need to."

They reached into the old cloak and from the darkness within it, pulled out something that burned like a star. They suddenly held on to a bright and blinding sword.

"This is my partner's. You return them to me and you won't feel the sting. Find some corrupt politician or king to execute to make your grand statement."

"But who better to cement my name than the death of the last great hero!"

The upstart villain never spoke another word. The dark lord cleaned off their partner's weapon, putting away with a careful reverence. They then went to rescue their love and return them home. Where they belonged.

i have a kofi if you'd like to tip me for doing stuff like this

The hero and the dark lord have both disappeared after their battle, making everyone think they both perished. In reality, they are living on a farm, living the life of their dreams.

[ellieslittleslutt]

Girl Next Door .* :･ ｡ﾟ (part 2)

MEN AND MINORS DNI!!!

pairings: closed off!ellie x reader

you had just moved to the city to start your new life of music in non other than New york city but there are other things calling

cw: sweating, drinking, ellie being kinda a dick in the beginning, sub!ellie, dom!reader, oral and fingering (e receiving), lower case intended, i think that’s it i’m not sure.

a/n: got the motivation to do this so randomly so if it doesn’t make sense that’s probably because i was barely conscious doing this. sorry for the typos :(

wc 2k

not proofread

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

just woke you next to ellie. how did this happen!? gosh you don’t even remember how this happened, one minute you were hanging with her and the next your in her lap moaning.

you looked back at ellie. her face is so much softer when she’s asleep, so much more vulnerable. she was curled up under the blanket arm hung around you.

you almost felt bad for even considering leaving.

slowly shifting back down into bed, you pulled her back ontop of you closer to you rubbing her back as you watched her sleep.

when ellie woke up that was a different story. she immediately sat up pushing herself away from you staring at you just confused and scared kind of. ”what the fuck?” she asks not even knowing what to say.

sitting up slowly you reach for your shirt pulling it back ontop trying to reason with her “we just got drunk and hooked up” you tell her.

“yeah got that much i’m not fucking dumb get out.” she spat at you not jeeping her gaurd down. “jesus dude you could be nicer…” you muttered. she shot a glare at you “this is my apartment i do whatever i fucking want”

she kept staring at you her face stern but also nervous and kinda scared. she kept an eye on you until you were out the door and left.

since that night you haven’t heard from her or seen her in the shop anymore. when you would bump into eachother she’d keep her head down and walk past you.

honestly you had no fucking clue what you did to her to be treated like this so naturally you went to dina.

you asked her to meet up for a coffee to talk. you met eachother at a coffee shop between both your apartments.

once you got your coffees and sat down she already knew what you wanted to talk about “this is about ellie right?” she asks. take. aback that she already knows about it you nod “y-yeah..”

“her leaving you in the dust, ignoring you, pretending like you’re not there?” dina says more in a matter-of-fact tone. “yeah wait how did you know?” “she does this to every hook up.” ouch okay. you frowned sipping your coffee and dina speaks up again “look ellie isn’t one for getting attached but with you it’s different. i say the way she looks at your through the music shop windows, and the way she talks about you. she likes you but you can’t push her. if you try she’ll just push you away more”

“so what do i do?” you ask confused. she shrugs and leans back “be patient with her?” right. helpful.

after you guys finished catching up and talking about your music career and stuff you both made plans for the group to meet up at a bar.

while walking to work you saw outside a bar in the door that they were looking for singers to preform. you immediately went inside going to the closest bar tender. “hey i saw you were looking for someone to sing tomorrow ?” you say with a polite voice. the bartender looks up at you nodding “mhm you interested?” he asks you while pouring a drink for a customer.

“yeah i’d love to” you smile. “come by tomorrow and we’ll get you set up.”

once you left you immediately told dina about it, sending a photo of the flyer telling her that you all can meet up there tomorrow “YES OMG THATS SO COOL ILL TELL JESSE” dina texts back.

once you got to work you started helping some customers with picking out a guitar and some strings and helping some guy with his record player.

it was a pretty chill day when ellie came in looking very hesitant about it. she second she saw you she looked down walking towards the counter. you were leaning against the counter looking at her “hey” you mumbled and she mumbled a smal “hi” back.

she looked around nervously and had her guitar case next to her “i uhm.. wanted to get the guitar strings replaced and i honestly don’t know how to do it myself and i heard the prices here are good” she looked nervous like a little kid giving a presentation.

“yeah of course i can get that situated for you” you smile softly at her remembering what dina said. patience.. be patient.

you took her over to where you kept the strings and she got the ones you suggested clearly not knowing what to do, joel always did this for her. you sat down with her and started changing them.

“uh dina told me you’re preforming at the bar tomorrow?” ellie asks trying to break the silence and you nod “yeah you coming?” you ask looking up at her. “mhm.. i’ll be there” she said staring at her shoes. you smile at her and go back to her guitar

once you were done she payed and tested them out a bit before putting her guitar in the case “thanks” she mumbled and then walked away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the next day you were getting ready putting on your nicest outfit trying to look effortless but still nice. you pulled on your shoes and grabbed your guitar case going over to the bar texting the group chat dina made telling them you’re on your way.

you stepped into the bar and spotted them at a booth and walked over to them. ellie was sitting on the wall side playing with a napkin folding it around with no end goal. she had a glass of whiskey by her. dressed in a flannel and some jeans her forearm tattoo prominent. she glanced up at you looking you up and down holding back a small smile.

dina hugged you and jesse said a quick hi and you sat down dina handing you a beer. “so you’re preforming? what song?” dina asks with a smile and you chuckle “not telling” you tease.

when it got to your turn to preform you set up sitting on the stool and start plucking at the strings of your guitar.

“chilled in kitchen of a city tomb

the light would flicker like a violet moon

the night was thicker than a smoke fume

eliza waited in her room”

heads slowly lifted from conversation to look at you singing including ellie.

“ben he loved her like he loved no one

the way she laughed and held a smoking gun

the way she always said what’s done is done”

ellie watched you intently, watching how delicate you plucked the strings of your guitar and tapped your foot counting beat. listened to the soft way you sang.

“but he is not the only one”

singing that line you looked over at ellie making eye contact with her singing those lines to her before looking back out at the other people.

“love is a gentle thing, yours is thicker than a velvet ring

“yours is thicker than a velvet ring”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

once you got off the stage you went back to the booth dina jumping up “you did so good! oh my god that was amazing!” she said and you laughed. looking over at ellie she had her head down staring her drink. you noticed how she looked a bit embarrassed and you decided to get up going to the bathroom tapping ellie’s shoe to signal for her to follow.

when you got there you locked the door leaning against the sink folding your arms “you okay?” you ask her as she played with her pinky and ring finger. and she just hums looking around on the floor. “you can talk to me” you say tilting your head.

“i’m sorry for ghosting you after hooking up… i was being a dick to you and you didn’t deserve it…” she mumbled quietly “and kicking you out yelling at you we were drunk and did hooked up that wasn’t your fault…” she added. your eyes softened seeing how vulnerable she is and you pushed yourself off the counter getting closer “it’s okay” you say softly with a smile and she shakes her head “but i was really mean and i really like you”. you look at her not knowing wether to confess or if it was a joke. fuck it why not. “i like you too ellie so much” you grab one of her hands still not looking up at you

“but there’s all those other girls and what if you don’t trust me?” she asks and you sigh tilting her head up to look at you. “i trust you okay? even if you’re scared of relationships and what not i’ll be here…” you say softly cupping her cheek.

she smiles looking at you, you faces close together “i really wanna kiss you” she mumbles “do it” you say and she smiles even wider leaning in to kiss you.

it was a slow kiss. she really meant it not like before on the fire escape. you smile against her lips cupping her cheek and push her against the wall making the kiss deep your tongue poking through. kissing against her jaw line and neck she sighs softly letting her head fall back “wanna make you feel good yeah?” you mumbled against her neck and she just nodded.

you unbuttoned her flannel showing off her tits and you smile seeing she’s not wearing a bra glancing back at her her face red “what they’re uncomfortable” she mumbles. you chuckle softly and kiss down her body unbuckling her belt letting them drop to the bathroom floor, looking up at her as you get down on your knees “gonna be quiet for me yeah?” you ask your hands going up her thighs resting under her boxers.

she nods biting her lip hand tangling in your hair “yeah” she says breathily. pressing along her happy trail you pull her boxers down a line of her own wetness connecting her to them.

“excited?” you ask nipping her inner things and all she responds with is a breathy moan. you kissing along her slit running your tongue in it and she jerks slightly already sensitive.

you part her folds and latch onto her clit running your tongue around the bud while she tries so hard not to moan as loud as she can.

bringing your hand up on her thigh you slowly push a finger into her and she puts her hand over her mouth eyes fluttering as you pump them in her.

“been thinking about this?” you ask against her clit. “mhm… fuck every night” she mumbles panting a bit.

pushing one more finger into curling them up she covers her mouth to let out a deep moan of your name and you could tel she was getting close by how tight she was getting “gonna need my fingers baby” you chuckle.

she grips your hair thighs trembling as she struggles to stay up and her orgasm washes over her as she rides out the waves. once you know she’s done you stand back up wiping your fingers on your pants and kiss her cheek while she catches her breath.

“fucking amazing” you say against her skin and she smiles “does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” she asks in the dorkiest way “definitely” you reply and kiss her softly “you’re so cute” you chuckle brushing her hair back.

when you got her dressed again and went out to dina and jesse dina having a knowing smile as she looked you guys up and down. “had fun?” she asks sipping her drink with a smirk and you guys don’t answer and just shrug before grabbing your guitar case and ellie’s bag.

“we’re gonna head home now going to bed early” ellie tells them and dina chuckles “mhm have fun”

it was going to be a long night.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

idk if the timeline is good or not so please lmk (i do cry to criticism). anyway here’s part two idk if i can make a part three but if you have an idea for it please tell me.

[rhiannonsknife]

Okay okay so hear me out.

Imagine the Yellowjackets are actually at the nationals instead of the plane crashing. And Jackie desperately tries to avoid r BUT the coach puts them in the same room for whatever reason, maybe shauna and jackie were playing around too much so as punishment shauna had to switch with r.

Now that they’re both forced to be closer than usual Jackie is genuinely losing her mind and her emotions are ALL around. Maybe they hook up, maybe not. Or they have a GENUINE conversation for once, which surprises Jackie..

You can do whatever you want with that idea, it’s totally up to you

— summary: secretly hooking up with jackie taylor. part 1. part 2.

— warnings: implied internalized homophobia & cheating. angst. hurt/no comfort because this is how things are done here. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni.

— a/n: enough with the jackie taylor fluff, back to the filthy lesbian sex + angst. you’re welcome.

the hallway of the hotel buzzes with the usual pre-competition chaos: teammates of various different schools all across the states scurrying between rooms, the sound of laughter and last-minute pep talks echoing off the walls. nationals. the peak of everything the yellowjackets had worked for all season. your last chance to win the thing as a team before most of you graduate.

obviously, jackie should feel excited, focused, and ready to step onto that court and lead her team to victory one final time.

instead, her stomach churns, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the pressure of the next couple of days.

“switching rooms is a terrible idea,” she reasons, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she glares at coach martinez.

“this is not a debate, taylor,” he replies, voice clipped. “this isn’t summer camp. you’re here to win, not distract your teammates with shipman. now get your stuff and make the swap. it’s only a weekend”

jackie glances sideways, catching your eye from where you stand a little further down the hall. you’re leaning casually against the wall, trying to act like you’re not paying attention, but she knows better. you’ve always been good at reading her, too good for her comfort. what you’re not so good at is pretending.

she can see the way you’re watching the exchange, trying to hide the obvious amusement in your gaze as jackie tries to reason with the coach.

she’s been doing her absolute best to keep her distance, to keep things simple and clean. nationals are stressful enough without throwing whatever this is into the mix. but now, thanks to shauna’s antics, the universe has decided to test her self-control all over again.

with a resigned sigh and not another look back at coach martinez, jackie grabs her bag and stalks toward her new room.

you’re barely done setting your things down when she barges past you and into the space

“hello to you too, roomie” you mutter as you close the door on your own way in.

she shoots you a look, tossing her bag onto the other bed with more force than necessary. “don’t get too comfortable,” she mutters. “this isn’t permanent”

“oh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “didn’t realize you had the power to override coach’s orders all of a sudden”

jackie’s jaw tightens, her posture stiffening as she stands by the bed. “i don’t,” she snaps, her voice sharp. “but i’ll talk to him tomorrow and get it fixed. until then, just…stay on your side of the room”

you scoff, setting your bag down with a little more force than necessary. “stay on my side of the room? what are we? fucking twelve?”

jackie glares at you. “i’m serious,” she says, brushing past you to grab her toiletries from her bag. “i don’t want any trouble”

“trouble?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly. truthfully, you don’t mean to. but ever since you started whatever this is between you, jackie has been doing the same thing over and over: pushing you away, pretending like you don’t exist at all. she won’t even look at you in school. all you can do is watch when she’s with jeff instead, holding his hands or kissing him in the hall, for once not afraid of the affection

“you’re the one acting like this is the end of the world. it’s just one night, jackie. maybe try not making it weird for once”

jackie freezes mid-motion, her hand gripping the zipper of her duffel bag. when she turns to face you, there’s a familiar edge in her expression. “i’m making it weird?” she shoots back. “you think i want to be stuck here with you?”

the words hit harder than they should, but you refuse to let her see the sting. of course jackie taylor wouldn’t want to be caught in the same room with you if you’re not knuckle deep inside her simultaneously.

“right,” you say flatly, crossing your arms. “because it’s so awful being in the same room as me, huh? god forbid we have to actually talk like normal people”

jackie flinches at the unexpected bitterness in your tone, but she doesn’t back down either. “i’m just saying,” she starts. “this is nationals. it’s a big deal. we should be focusing on the game, not…whatever”

“whatever,” you echo, narrowing your eyes. “right. because that’s all this is to you. just some ‘whatever’”

her cheeks flush, and she glances away, busying herself with folding a stray sweatshirt. “i didn’t say that,” she mutters.

“you didn’t have to,” you reply, your voice slightly quieter now, but no less tense. “you know, for someone who’s so concerned about ‘trouble,’ you’re pretty good at creating it”

jackie’s hands still, her knuckles whitening as she grips the shirt tightly. for a moment, it looks like she might say something, but then she exhales sharply and shoves the sweatshirt away. a part of you would prefer it if she actually did. if she, for once, recognizes what you two have, rather than keeping it something shameful. something unspoken. it shouldn’t surprise you that she doesn’t.

“i’m going to take a shower,” jackie announces instead. “just…stay out of my way”

she doesn’t wait for a response before grabbing her things and heading for the door, leaving you alone in the too-quiet room. the door slams shut behind her, and you sink onto the edge of your bed, rubbing a hand over your face.

this wasn’t what you had envisioned for the nationals. you didn’t ask to be thrown into a room with jackie, but now that you are, you can’t help the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. why do you have to be punished, just because she and shauna can’t behave?

jackie has been keeping you at arm’s length for months now, barely acknowledging you outside of stolen moments behind closed doors that she won’t talk about. and now, trapped in this tiny room together, all the tension and unspoken words feel like they’re pressing down on you, endlessly heavy and suffocating.

when she finally returns, her hair damp and her face scrubbed clean, the air between you is no less charged.

she moves stiffly, avoiding your gaze as she sets her toiletries down and climbs into bed without a word. you briefly consider saying something to break the silence, but the memory of her earlier words

you think I want to be stuck here with you?

holds you back. instead, you turn off the bedside lamp and lie down on your back, the too-small room plunging into darkness.

a long time passes by in the familiar silence. it’s all it ever is with jackie: radio silence until it’s not an inconvenience for her to want you. then, you’ll have her for a couple of hours, before things go back to how they were before.

the other bed creaks softly beside you as jackie shifts, her back to you. for a second, you think she’s fallen asleep already. then you hear her sigh, low and almost inaudible.

despite everything, her sharp words, her cold demeanor, you know jackie, for better or for worse. you know she’s scared, for reasons beyond you, and conflicted. she’s trying so desperately to pretend to be something she’s not. and she would've been able to succeed with it, had it not been for you.

the silence stretches on, thick and heavy. at some point, you roll onto your side, your back to hers too, determined to get some sleep, yet to no avail. you hear it before she speaks: the faintest shift of the mattress as jackie turns.

“are you awake?” she murmurs, her voice hesitant.

you don’t answer right away, torn between wanting to keep your distance and the part of you that aches to close the gap between you. finally, you whisper, “yeah”

she falls silent for a moment, and you can almost sense her weighing whether or not to say more.

you hear movement in the dark, and you’re about to turn when the mattress dips by your legs where jackie has sat. ”i didn’t mean what i said earlier. about not wanting to be here“

you swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. you don’t dare to turn and look at her. “then why say it?”

jackie hesitates. you can feel her shift closer, the warmth of her body radiating against your back. a part of you wants to push her away. another, stronger and more determined part wants her endlessly closer. “because it’s easier,” she admits quietly. you force yourself to fight against the shiver that threatens to run down your back when she curls up against you, her breath warm on your shoulder blade. “it’s easier to push you away than…than deal with any of this”

her words hang in the air, and you find yourself turning to face her. the darkness between you doing nothing to hide the vulnerability in her expression from this close. this, you realize as you take in jackie’s features, is the most vulnerable she’s ever been around you.

“how do you feel?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

jackie’s gaze drops, her fingers curling into the edge of the blanket between you. “i don’t know,” she says, but the tremble in her voice betrays her. “i just know that when i’m with you, everything gets so…complicated”

you reach out, your hand brushing against hers. “it doesn’t have to be”

jackie doesn’t move, her eyes locked on yours. then, slowly, tentatively, she closes the distance between you, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s equal parts hesitation and longing.

when she finally pulls away, her forehead rests against yours, and she exhales shakily. “this doesn’t change anything,” she whispers. there she is again. the jackie you know. the jackie you will despise again in the morning. the jackie you have, unfortunately, fallen in love with months ago, long before she decided that you were worth to keep around for some occasional hook ups.

you don’t respond verbally. if this is all of her that you’ll get tonight, you will still very much take it.

jackie’s fingertips trace your cheeks as your mouths move together. you’re not even sure who has leaned in first this time, only that you’re kissing her again and that she’s kissing you back just as eagerly.

her lips are so soft against yours it’s unfair, yet they’re demanding and hungry, ravishing your mouth in a way you never dared to imagine. simultaneously, her hands are running all over you, wherever jackie can reach. frustrated with how restrictive these blankets are, she grunts and pushes them aside.

with the newfound space, she smoothly slides on top of you, your legs tangling together on the plain bedsheets.

“come here” she murmurs, closing the distance between you again. you part your lips almost immediately, giving in to all that stupid, pent-up hunger.

it’s not long after, that you try bucking your hips upward, chasing after a pressure she is not yet providing. jackie has never been one to give. you can remember the one single time where she’s actually shoved her hand down your pants. it’d been in the back of your car, from a slightly awkward angle and without much aftercare to it. but it had been, to this day, one of your best orgasms simply because it was jackie taylor’s hand that had been touching you that night. to this day, it is what you think back to when you’re alone in your room.

now, she seems oddly eager to touch you. except this time, you realize, you have time. there are no parents anywhere nearby, no jeff that could catch or overhear you. just the two of you, in the middle of the night.

maybe coach martinez had, unknowingly done you the biggest favor of your lifetime.

you bite your lip when jackie leans back to look down at you. her hair is a mess, her chest heaving with how hard she’s panting.

one tug is all it takes before she’s all over you again, caging you in between her forearms on either side of your head. you bury your hands in her hair and allow yourself to pretend that any of this is normal.

her shirt comes off first, tossed off the bed carelessly. you sit before her, hands roaming her sides, eyes glued to her chest. yours is next and jackie seems almost impatient to peel it off of you. once you’re both topless, she pushes you back into the mattress and straddles your hips.

you moan into her mouth when her bare breasts slide up against yours. eager to feel more of this, for as long as she lets you, you arch your back up against jackie. she groans softly into your mouth, the noise shooting straight between your legs.

“jackie” you manage. your fingers have, without you even noticing, wrapped around her forearms in a silent plea for her to stay this close. you only let go when she puts her mouth to the side of your neck and sucks.

well, this is new, you briefly think. jackie, for obvious reasons, never lets you mark her up at all. but you didn’t think of her as one to be into leaving hickeys. how you’ll cover them in the morning is a problem for your future self. for now, you just don’t want her to stop. whatever has gotten into her tonight, you want more of it.

“jackie” you sigh again, more urgency in your voice this time. “touch me”

she leans back from where she had her face buried in the crook of your neck. for a moment, as your hand slides from the back of her head, you think you’ve messed it all up. you’d been playing with fire from the start. and now you’ve pushed her too far, asked for too much. then, an unfamiliar determination flickers over jackie’s face, and her fingers drop down to your shorts.

“holy shit” you can’t help but mutter when she, unlike what you expected, doesn’t immediately shove her hand down past the waistline. instead, jackie pushes them all the way down your legs with your help, leaving you in your underwear. she watches as you kick them off, then turns back to face you. you do notice that she’s purposefully not looking right at you, but you don’t mind it all that much when she settles down beside you and runs her flat palm down your body.

her fingers briefly brush over your nipples but don’t waste any time to get to where you both want them the most. you’ve learned to love jackie in the quiet, stolen moments in between. you can’t miss anything you’ve never had and only the comfort of a bed and a room all to yourselves seems too luxurious to be true. you’re not going to ruin this for yourself by getting caught up in the lack of proper foreplay.

you involuntarily spread your legs wider for jackie when she reaches your underwear and you can feel her smile against the side of your neck, where she’s resting her head.

when her index finger runs over the fabric there, her mouth falls open. she must feel the wet patch of your arousal.

“you’re so-“ she gasps, just barely managing to cut herself off in time. jackie taylor doesn’t speak to you while she gets you off. she clears her throat and makes up by finally pushing your underwear aside.

you have to slam a hand over your mouth so your next-door neighbors won’t hear the sound you make when jackie circles your clit for the first time. she’s deliberate, her wrist moving in firm, clockwise circular motions.

the blankets rustle quietly as she adjusts, propping her weight down on one hand as she lingers above you and watches, then presses down harder.

your head falls back into the pillows and your jaw goes slack. to your surprise, jackie’s expression is a reflection of your own: her mouth hangs open as though she’s the one who’s getting touched, and her eyes are heavy as they study your reactions. just by the way she’s touching you, you wouldn’t know that this is only her second time doing this. she must've been attentive to the way you've been touching her during all of your past hook-ups.

you can feel how wet you’re getting -embarrassingly fast. her fingers slide over you in no time whatsoever, gathering your arousal on them before pushing it up and over your clit.

a shuddered breath falls from your lips. jackie is still watching you, alternating between your face (yet never your eyes) and where her hand is moving between your legs.

she keeps this up until you can feel her in every single nerve ending. whether jackie knows this or not, though something tells you that she does, this is not quite enough to make you cum. it’s merely enough to get you towards that edge, toeing it, yet never falling over. the pressure isn’t hard enough, the sensation too brief.

in spite of yourself, you begin to rock your hips into her hand. at this point, you’re so wet it’s dripping through your underwear. there’s no reason to hide your own desperation anymore when she can feel it herself.

“jackie-“ you gasp. it’s tortuously good.

the first time she looks into your eyes that night is when she dips her soaked finger lower and pushes it inside. the moan that you let out at this is definitely too loud for a packed hotel, but she makes no attempt to hush you.

you can feel the place where jackie's pebbled nipples press against you, every inch of exposed skin curled up with your own, and her breath fans against your earlobe. you’re half convinced you’re only imagining it when she whispers: “you like this?”

you hardly hear the words at all, drowned out by your own, mindless gasps and the sounds coming from where jackie is pounding into you; the obscenely slick noises.

she’s deep. she’s so deep inside of you, her delicate fingers pressing deeper than she’s ever been before. it’s the first time you actually feel her there and that alone is enough for your eyes to roll back in your head.

“yeah” you manage just so.

“yeah?” jackie pouts, almost mockingly, forcing them inside some more.

“oh my god” is all you can say to that.

usually, it would be you touching her. this is one of those rare occasions where the roles are reversed. where jackie gets to touch you. to fuck you, really: she's pressing her hips against you from where she’s lingering on top, draws them back as she does the same with her hand, then snaps them back immediately the moment she pumps her fingers into you. like she’s really fucking you, you think.

it briefly occurs to you that maybe, if jackie is so eager for this, you’ll have to invest in a strap so that you can fill each other up properly. then again, it would probably be too much to bring this idea up to her. you’ll consider yourself lucky if she so much as looks at you after tonight.

as soon as jackie’s third finger slips into you, you no longer bother to even try and hold your head up. she’s never fucked you like that and you’ll spend the rest of your life wishing for this feeling back.

she’s steadily pressing, curling, and exploring with three of her fingers and all you can do is chant cries of her name as you try to ride her hand.

your head falls to the side, into the pillows. a necessary but pointless try to stifle your moans.

“jackie please”

you can hear her mumbling words of “that’s it” and “take it” against your temple but it’s white noise to what you feel when her thumb finds your clit, rubbing in fast circles that match the brutal pace she’s set. even jackie is panting now. her wrists must be aching, at this rate, but she’s not stopping. you wonder if she’s as wet for you as you are for her. you know how easy it is to get her wet. so she must be, it wouldn’t surprise you if she’s stained your bed.

in the end, these aren’t the thoughts that push you over the edge. it’s jackie’s voice urging you to “cum” to “please cum for me”.

the rest of the world blurs in and out of focus and, for as long as your orgasm lasts, there’s nothing but the pleasure that explodes in your abdomen and leaves you shaking on the mattress.

you choke out a moan as it washes over you. jackie is watching you, her mouth hanging open like it only dawns upon her now that she's got this kind of effect on you.

even as the pleasure starts to fade, your thighs are still shaking. jackie is almost hesitant about lifting her hand from between your legs, though she makes a point of not looking down at your arousal on her before she wipes it off on the mattress.

“holy shit” you mutter, staring at the ceiling above and dropping the weight of your head back onto the pillows. your whole body feels ten times lighter than it did mere minutes ago.

reality sinks in soon enough though.

after another deep breath, you turn to jackie. she's still sitting on your mattress, but her bare back is turned to you. stupidly enough, you try to reach out. she senses the movement and shoots you a sharp glance, so your hand freezes mid-air, never reaching her.

“don't” the sharpness in her voice has no right to sting the way it does. you pull your hand back, uselessly dropping it onto the mattress.

“jackie...”

“i said don't" she snaps all over again. "it's better this way”

better for who? you wonder. the question burns but you force yourself to bite it back. there's no point in trying to push her further. you watch jackie reach for her discarded clothes on the floor. her movements are hurried as she pulls her shirt back over her head. like if she's frantic enough about it, it'll all go away.

“was it something i-” “no,” she immediately interrupts. with her shirt back on, she stands. “don’t make this into something it’s not”

“jackie you don’t have to-“

“this didn’t mean anything” she interjects all over again. “we shouldn’t have…it was a mistake, okay? it won’t happen again”

“a mistake?”

it’s not the first time jackie calls it that. for a ‘mistake’ she’s been coming back a surprising amount of times. yet it always comes down to this.

“i don’t want to talk about it,” she snaps, her arms cross defensively over her chest as she turns toward her bed. “we have nationals tomorrow. we need to focus”

“are you serious right now?” your voice rises slightly. “jackie, you can’t just-“

“i can,” she says firmly. “and i am”

you sit there, half naked and stunned into silence as jackie climbs into her own bed and pulls the covers up to her chin, facing the wall so you can’t see her expression. her breathing is shaky, though, and you can tell she’s trying hard to steady it.

“fine,” you say stubbornly when you realize she’s actually serious. “pretend it didn’t happen. pretend it didn’t mean anything to you”

jackie doesn’t respond.

you sit in the stillness for what feels like an eternity. as you finally settle under the covers, your back turned to her, you hear jackie’s voice:

“stay away from me. for the rest of this trip”

you swallow hard, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “got it,” you whisper.

then, you just lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of her breathing. jackie doesn’t move, and neither do you. whatever you’d hoped might come from tonight has slipped right through your fingers.

eventually, jackie’s breathing evens out, and you wonder if she’s actually asleep or just pretending. either way, you close your eyes, trying to make the hurt fade.

[savanir]

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

Part 3

prev and OG prompt

Dick was just about finished with his preparations in the Batjet when one of his brothers barged in and dumped some of their stuff inside as well.

“I’m coming with you” Tim straps down the case he brought and plants his ass in the copilot seat.

Dick looks at him with a slight frown, “Tim…”

“no I want to see the murder scenes with my own eyes and it’s good for you to have some backup-”

“I’ll be just fine on my own babybird-”

“-cause we don’t know if this is just one assassin or a whole organization”

“ok. and now you can tell me the real reason you want to come along”

Tim gives Dick a side-eye before slumping down“... Alf has been talking with Bruce about me needing fresh air again and I rather do that preemptively and on my own terms so you’re just gonna have to accept you’re stuck with me on this one now”

Dick sighs, and ruffles Tim’s hair before strapping himself in the pilot seat and ignoring the indignant squawk from his brother, “sure, fine, Oracle we’re heading out now”

“have a safe trip Nightwing”

and they are off

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Amity Park is about what they expected, outwardly nothing remarkable, somewhat sleepy. But upon closer inspection the signs of multiple battles are quite clear.

Though apparently it’s been quite a while now since the last “ghost” battle. There is a lot of speculation as to why among the town folks which could be important to look into some other time, but for now the boys put a pin in it and get to breaking and entering the old Fenton household for their investigation.

Things seem to be normal inside the house but… ahem, well...

Tim inspects all the strange tech that looks just haphazardly slapped on the walls with a critical eye while Dick lifts one of the family photos to have a better look.

“looks like a normal average american household to me, even with mom and dad preferring to wear hazmat suits everywhere apparently” there really aren’t any pictures where they aren’t wearing the orange and teal suits. Madeline Fenton wasn’t wearing one at the Gala though, she looks a lot more comfortable in these pictures.

Dick looks around some more, “is it just me or does this place just feel… depressing?”

“yeah no I get what you mean, there is nobody here but I also feel a lot like I’m intruding” Tim hums, “more than normal that is”

“Red…” 

Tim elects to ignore that tone of voice completely, “there is no way any of this stuff is even remotely up to code” he then peeks at the picture as well, he of course already knew what the murdered father and missing son looked like, he’s done his homework, but this is a casual happy family picture, that always drives home the fact that these were- are real people. 

but how did they all get dragged into this situation, this mess that is slowly turning into something a lot more complicated… maybe… well that’s why he’s here. To figure it out.

The stairs that lead to the basement lab are in the kitchen for some reason, and once down there they both need a moment to take the whole place in.

The entire house is rather abandoned but this place looks as if it hasn't been touched since the police did their own investigation.

There is some tape and markers that were left behind but overall it looks a lot like a hurricane went through it, exploded, and then everything got covered in a fine layer of dust.

Tim opens the case he brought with him and begins setting up the holo scanners to make a copy of the whole place that they’ll be able to project in the batcave later, in case they miss something now.

It's only after that’s done that they start to have a look themselves.

“Even this badly wrecked it definitely looks like some sort of evil lair” Tim mutters as he inspects the nearest vaguely firearm shaped object, or maybe it’s a hair blower he’s not sure, it’s got Fenton Works™ stamped on it though.

“is that a portal” Dick meant it as a question but it ends up sounding like a statement.

It gets Tim’s attention though, “I… maybe?” it kinda looks like one potentially, busted up to hell though.

Dick carefully approaches it but doesn’t for a second think about going in there,“Mostly looks like a hole in the wall now though, I’m not going in there to check with all those wires on the ground, talk about a trip hazard. Not to mention the threat of electrocution, has nobody here heard about cable management?!”

“where is your sense of adventure Wingster, besides I am pretty sure this place is cut off from electricity now” 

“yeah, I’m not taking the risk with sketchy evil lair portals today” 

Dick lets Tim do his own detective work while he takes out a little device Batman made to alert him to Deadman. He figures it would be interesting to get a read on the place and see if it's really ghosts that have been causing a mess in Amity Park or if it is something else that just appears paranormal.

The ecto-detection goes completely wild however. “Alright well… uhh”

"What's that?”

“I was just curious if something occult was going on around here what with everyone blaming the past attacks on ghosts and thinking that whatever happened here probably has something to do with them as well… but I'll be honest, Boston never registered anywhere near this high. And it's just - everywhere”

“So any further investigation into Amity Park itself is gonna have to be done by Dark?”

“probably” though Tim is also fully planning on doing a full investigation himself.

Either way, they put a pin in that too.

They have a good look at the areas where bullets made an impact, scorch marks and the broken examination tables. They are about done when Tim asks if it would be worth it to break into the local police department and have a lot at (steal) whatever evidence they might still have on the case.

They could have something useful, unless it is who Dick really hopes it’s not. 

They leave the basement and are greeted with the sight of two teens in the kitchen.

hm…

Dick decides to just go with a cheery hello,

“Holy shit it’s Nightwing and Red Robin!” Tucker basically has stars in his eyes.

“After the message we got from Jazz I kinda expected the big bat”

“That's not true, you said after all this time you didn’t think they were actually gonna come at all- ow!” Sam doesn’t hesitate to  hit him in the shoulder. 

“Didn't think we'd show up” Tim says.

“Well am I wrong?” Sam sneers, “the only reason you guys are here is cause it’s a Gotham thing now. Otherwise someone actually competent would have looked into this months ago”

Tucker shrugs sheepishly and looks a little pained, “perhaps we shouldn't antagonize the Justice League heroes?”

Sam looks about ready to start hissing, it reminds Tim somewhat of the demon brat when he's particularly upset. “whatever” she says.

Tucker now has a strained smile, “uh, if you guys were wondering how we knew you were in here, that's because Jazz asked us to keep an eye on the place”

they tripped an alarm? how… Everything in here is cut off and disabled. some sort of battery based system maybe? but they would have surely picked up on that…

Dick figures he might as well just go ahead and ask some questions so he takes a seat and the other two follow suit more at ease than the two birds expected. Tim decides to wander a bit more around the kitchen. Maybe there is something he missed here.

“so, I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and assume that you two also think Daniel-”

“Danny” Sam corrects immediatly 

“-yes Danny, you two also think he's still alive?”

The question is immediately answered by a, “yes” and a, “he is”

“Jazz also seemed very certain of this despite the fact that a body was found. what makes you all so sure?”

Sam looks ready to spring into another tirade, Dick is starting to suspect that she has a serious issue with ‘not being taken seriously’

“Jazz told you guys already about the clone thing right? just go to Vlad's estate and it's all there in his evil basement laboratory”

“and we also know someone who can check deaths through occult stuff, and they confirmed that he has not… you know, crossed over”

“occult like magic?”

“or something, they were never wrong before. we do realize this isn't hard evidence obviously but they are a friend and not the type to just tell us what we want to hear” this is the easiest way to explain that they got in contact with the ghosts to have them look through the realms for Danny.

“I'd like to speak with-”

“that's gonna be hard, they don't show up with all the government people crawling about”

“so that individual with proof cannot be reached so we can’t verify their claims”

“nope”

unfortunate, but they did already say it wasn't hard evidence. It seems that these two aren’t going to budge on it which seems a little odd to Dick, there are known magic users in the League. Someone being able to check into the afterlife or whatever to see if someone is truly dead isn’t completely out of left field, it should be fine to meet with that person and at least hear them out… so why are ‘’government people’’ an issue? are they possibly wanted for some crime? oh well…

“when we went to them it was mostly just to know. you know? like… mr. Fenton got murdered and Danny went missing, and nobody knew anything or could find anything. Everyone suspected ghosts of course. and we just wanted to know if our best friend was dead or not, if searching was even worth it”

“and now the fruitloop got assassinated. to us it basically also confirms it you know. he's still alive, and it would absolutely be best to shut up the one guy who knows about the whole thing”

But why smear Masters? Why not do it quietly? And what makes Daniel so special?

Tim just knows he's going to end up with more sleepless nights because of this.

In the end the two teens aren’t actually all that cooperative. It seems they actually have mostly shown up to check what was going on inside the Fenton household, Tim and Dick decide not to push them too much then and there, figuring they could visit Master’s estate first, verify the clone allegations, and after that get back to these two, perhaps when they get more intel and have something more substantial to work these then Sam and Tucker will be a bit more forthcoming as well.

Only time will tell.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Slade had to go on some solo mission and at this point he's okay with leaving the boys to handle themselves, Danny eagerly takes the opportunity to do his own thing. 

Aka, going after politicians to get the acts repealed. Making deals with the ones who value their lives and can see a good opportunity when they are presented with one and getting his name out there. If he’s an actual threat people will be forced to listen. 

This day though he lands a hit that the supers in Metropolis somehow know about…

someone somewhere snitched, or… they are compromised. A worry for later.

"Memento Mori, they say you're trained by the Deathstroke and that you have an absolute success rate. And that you only kill your target and no one else on one of your assignments... but today all of it is coming to an end because with my tactile telekinesis I-" 

"If I had known that all I had to do to meet a real life alien was to act up a little I would have gone down this road a lot sooner" Danny leans against the AC unit on top of the apartment building they are currently on.

Kon splutters, "what?"

"Alright, okay, clone of an alien, which to me is still basically the same thing. Very cool, honestly, if you ask me, even better"

Kon puffs up, "well I am pretty awesome if I say so myself"

"Absolutely, out of this world some would say"

Kon snorts, then remembers what's actually going on here, "are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe? Is it working?" Kon pouts and makes a so-so gesture. "I do mean it though. You're easily in my top five favorite aliens"

Kon blushes quite prettily "Uhm, well I... oh wait aliens? Not heroes?"

"Ah, yeah well about that, I guess I'm not a fan of that? Especially not currently. What with you being in my way and all that"

"Oh so if I were to politely ask to not kill the lady"

"Yeah I'm still gonna do that, sorry"

Kon sighs, "well in that case I'll-" 

He promptly gets knocked back by an impressive punch to the face. Mostly stunned by the fact that it properly hurts and then realizing Danny can move at all.

"You got distracted" and gives him a wink.

Kon rubs his jaw, "Oh you think you're cute"

"not just cute, I am adorable" and Kon just knows this smug bastard is grinning at him under the mask he can’t see through.

He really wishes he didn't have a thing for dark haired spunky dangerous people.

"... it- it doesn't matter, even with your freaky assassin skills there is no way-"

"You're a bit of a terrible match up against me though, no offense" Danny is trying to not overuse his abilities. He doesn't want the justice league to know about all of them. but it'll turn into a messy and long fight where neither come out on top if he sticks with the regular stuff. And that would allow backup to arrive and make things even more complicated... 

"Damn... I just don't have time for this"

Kon makes sure he's prepared to intercept anything Danny might throw at him now.

"If you go invisible I'll just follow the sound of your heartbeat"

"Oh" Danny turns his heart off. He can't do that indefinitely while in human form though, but this will do for this fight. "How about now"

"What the-? Are you alright!?"

"Awww you’re worried? That's sweet. Supersweet one could say," Danny turns invisible, "you should really be more worried about yourself though Superboy"

Kon tries if he can keep visual with his X-ray vision, he thinks about trying to do a sweep for even the slightest disturbance with his TTK field when a freezing cold shiver shoots up his spine.  

There is a moment of silence where nothing and nobody moves and then Kon can hear Superman in the distance. 

"Kon! What's going on!"

"That little- he slipped away!" 

"That's unfortunate... meet up with Kara at Miss Holloway’s location. Together we'll be able to stop him there"

"No I think I can-" Kon tries to argue

"Superboy" superman sounds stern 

"... fine, I'm going"

Kon makes a direct beeline for the target location and a grin can't help but spread over his face. He pushes his sunglasses up a bit more to hide the glowing green eyes. 

Now that he got to this point he’s getting back to wondering who tipped the supers off though. Having to switch to plan B was rather annoying. 

And he still absolutely doesn't like overshadowing people but what can you do… mission first, personal and ethical little hang ups second.

Superboy went under so smoothly though, Danny wondered why that was until he did a careful skim of the surface and sensed the roiling self hatred. He suspects that'll do it.

Danny feels sorta bad though, Superboy really is up there in his list of coolest things this world has to offer. He'll have to make it up to him after this is all over somehow. In a way that won’t compromise himself, and also avoid the old man knowing. 

It's then that he realizes he's arrived at the target location, it's showtime!

"Here I am"

Kara gives him a wave and he smoothly touches down, it really is a good thing he already knows how to fly and stuff, makes the whole pretending to be a Kryptonian thing a bit easier. "Got away huh?"

He huffs, "he can just turn his heartbeat off, how was I supposed to know that?"

"Deathstroke's protégé's are on a different level for sure. But even they have a limit"

Right... sure... underestimate him, very smart...

Not that he can really blame them. They probably think he's a baseline human with maybe some meta abilities or just a new upgraded Ikon suit.

"Can I see the tip off?

"Again? Sure. Though I doubt you'll see anything in it that we haven't seen yet. Oracle is trying to trace it but..."

"Hm, what if..." yeah some of this was very familiar, "what if it's Deathstroke and he's treating this whole thing as a screwed up training exercise?"

"That... I sure hope not"

"He's insane enough for that though"

"I hate that you could be right"

The silence stretches. 

"Are you alright Kon?"

Danny startles a little, "Yeah! I'm just, frustrated"

"Ah, don't worry. With the three of us standing ready it'll be fine. We'll catch him" she presses her fist in her open palm.

Danny feels a careful smile spread on Kon's face. 

"Hey, you check up on the lady and I'll make it look like I'm not involved in all this. Kal is close by and after that we'll try that thing with you spreading your TTK field super far"

Using Superboy's ability as a net? Interesting. "Gotcha"

Supergirl nods and then takes off and Danny figures he might as well just get this whole thing over with now. 

The lady is right there, she barely acknowledges him when he politely greets her. Rude…

And then he snaps her neck. 

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

"Youuuu" Danny storms up to Slade with vicious green overtaking his usual blue, “you fucking motherf-”

"Boy-"

"Don't you boy me. You sabotaged my assignment!"

"False accusations?"

Danny gives him a look that screams ‘are you for real…’ "Of course I took a moment to investigate. I had to know if we had a leak. But you tipping off the supers you absolute-"

Slade nods, satisfied that Danny looked into the matter, "You were fine, you need to be challenged to learn how to adapt to any situation. The moment things become complicated you resort to your abilities"

"Get off it old man I'm only half human of course I'm using my damn abilities, they are a fucking part of me! You though- You're the biggest dick in the universe and-"

Any civilized conversation quickly ends after that as it gradually devolves into a physical fight.

"Bastard" Danny mutters as he focuses his healing to fix his black eye first. 

"Cool down brat” Slade says, looking no worse for wear, “We'll go over the whole thing in more depth later" and the veteran assassin leaves the room. 

Danny fumes as he handles his patch up himself. While doing so he allows himself a moment of self loathing. 

He hates that he's making progress getting the ecto acts removed. "working" with the people who are happily removing the thing and getting rid of those that ignorantly want to keep it in place. 

He hates that the G.I.W are easier to handle with his new skillset.

He really hates how easy this is getting. 

And he really really hates how there was zero hesitation to overshadow Superboy and use him. 

He can't wait till this is over, one way or another.

[missdollcouture]

missdollcouture

at home nail care: maintaining strong and healthy nails at home

as much as i'm sure (almost) all of us love getting our nails done, keeping our natural nails up is just as important, if not more.

pre-mani care is a huge part of keeping your nails healthy. so before going to get your nails done or doing them yourself, there's a few things you should do as far as preparation goes to prevent damaging your nails.

cuticle care

taking care of your cuticles is essential for nail health. I personally avoid cutting my cuticles since it could lead to infection or nail damage. but I still push my cuticles back (preferably after a shower) and that keeps them looks fresh

keep your cuticles moisturized as well because it promotes nail growth and strength.

trims

think of your nails kinda like your hair. trimming your nails regularly can help prevent breakage or snapping. I personally think keeping your nails trimmed down gives a cleaner and well kept look to your nails since there's not always dirt and bacteria getting in them.

biotin

taking biotin or just certain vitamins in general, is so good for your nail and hair health. but biotin in particular helps with cell growth and the metabolism of amino acids that are essential for nail growth

builder gel

i love putting builder gel on my nails to keep them strong and from chipping. I recommend doing some research before buying one so you don't get any with harsh chemicals.

quick hot tips

stop biting your nails. its hard, I know. but trust me its so worth it and improves your nails tremendously.

be cautious with your natural nails. use the pads of your fingers to open stuff (or things along those lines)

jojoba oil to moisturize your cuticles is literally the best oil you could use.

when getting acrylics or things like that, take breaks in between each set to let your nails breath