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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it. you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though. After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all? Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared). He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did. Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered. The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed. You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him. You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him. Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around. You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention. If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers. With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk. Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter. “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded. By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous. Idiotic. A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you. “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged. “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing? “Thank you. I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense. But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?” His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious. “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him. He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression. His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore. “I’m here, aren’t I? Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that? I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me. It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm. “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium. Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course. And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar. “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time. You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there. Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen. And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds. You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit. All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything. The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex. As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd. Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway. It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted. “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were. But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck. “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me? Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped. “I can take it! Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head. “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on? Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers. You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you. Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly. You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point. "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly. He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air. He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive. The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed. He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss. Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him. Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing. His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately. "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.” It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear. You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly. "Oh, you like that idea, hm? You want to be full of my come? Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast. You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated. As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade. Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks. No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair. It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks. If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry. I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed. He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye. “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss. And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again. He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss. Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss? But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class? Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it? And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios. You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him. And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now. The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class. As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options. There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself. Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable. Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned. "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk. Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was. “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed. “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice. You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly. “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed. “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly. "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours. And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel. “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed. "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again. "A man can only take so much. I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked. "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist. Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod. It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag. “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened. Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded. “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.” He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs. “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair. He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit. Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way. I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed. "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear. "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me. Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut

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ningningsplushie · 4 years

Text

Bookstore Rivals

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Word count: 2171

Genre: Used bookstore, cold to clueless to cocky Joon, rivals but in a cutesy way, strangers to lovers, meet cute, reader likes to tease Joon

Summary: Walking into your favourite bookstore, you don’t anticipate to come across the new, handsome cashier. To say the least, the two of you don’t kick it off right away

Warning: minor descriptions of blood, nothing intense.

Y/N’s Wednesday schedule was planned out to a tee. Wake up, attend class, work for four hours, and visit Mr. Kim’s bookstore. As organized and strict as her Wednesdays were, the rest of the week was fairly inconsistent, which was precisely why she enjoyed the middle of the week most as it allowed her to take control for once, not to mention that going to the bookstore was like attending weekly Mass, an occurrence that excited her without fail.

Before the doors of the bus could fully open, with the energy of a thousand men, Y/N leaps through, almost getting her bag caught on the handles during the process. Y/N paused on the sidewalk, tilting her head up towards the high buildings of apartments and stores in the downtown area of Seoul, she closes her eyes and takes a deep to inhale, relishing the smell of the air right after it had rained. The walk from the bus stop to Mr. Kim’s store was only ten minutes but during the ten-minute expedition, she was skipping, flinging her arms back and forth.

In about no time, she arrives, already pushing open the glass door and grinning upon hearing the chime of bells signaling her entrance.

“Per Aspera ad Libros!” Y/N yells out, spreading both of her arms wide. She wasn’t sure why but she greeted the shop like this every time and it just felt right. Through hardships to the books. “Mr. Kiiiiiiim! It’s me, Y/N!” she calls out, peering through the endless rows of brown, nearly rotten shelves.

“Y/N you come here every week like clockwork yet I never tire of your presence,” he greets, exiting from the back room, “how have you been, dear?”

“Oh, I’ve been great, sir. Classes are interesting, I meet new people at work, and my brain is still sucking up thousands of words,” she replies, clasping both of her hands atop her head.

The Fifty-something-year-old man chuckles, the deep-set lines of his mouth accentuating when he reveals his grin, his crow's feet growing stronger as his eyes close in joy. “Good, good, I’m glad you’re enjoying life.”

“I try my best to, but, you know, it can get hard at times.”

“That’s true enough. Just keep your head high and the things you love near.”

“That’s what I’m planning on. Oh, I nearly forgot! The store didn’t have any strawberry smoothies so I got you a mango one. I know those are your second favourite,” she acknowledges, shrugging off her backpack, bringing out two small bottles of smoothies, one for Mr. Kim and one for herself.

“Thank you, dear. Let me just put a few more books away and we’ll get to talking.”

Not even a minute later, he returns, and the two stand by the large window next to the entrance, talking as they usually do about books, life, and Y/N’s school.

“I’m really glad I switched majors. Business was such a bore and-” Y/N stops in her tracks, eyes glued to the cash register when she spots a tall man sitting while reading a book with brown hair that was pushed back, revealing his forehead. She couldn’t quite tell if he was good-looking or not as his face was impassive, too engrossed in his book. From what she saw, he was easy on the eyes. Y/N frequented this bookstore on many occasions and she had never seen this guy before and she was worried that he was a suspicious character, attempting to steal. “Uhhhhh Mr. Kim,” Y/N says at a low frequency, making sure the stranger doesn’t hear, “I think that guy at the cash register is trying to steal.”

Mr. Kim’s eyes go wide and whips his head toward the counter. He's about to yell out but then rests his eyes on the sitting figure and begins to laugh. “You had me worried for a second.” he croaks out, chest heaving from laughing too much. “He isn’t stealing or anything like that. Y/N, meet my nephew Kim Namjoon. He’s just moved here from Ilsan and started working with me while he attends university.”

Now it was Y/N turn to laugh, hand slapping her forehead as she leans forward, shoulders vibrating. “Oh wow, I’m really stupid.” She composes herself and straightens her back, offering a bow to the tall man. “Hi, I’m really sorry about that. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

She expected the guy to close his book and smile, introduce himself, or even offer a small nod, but definitely not, “It’s Per Aspera ad Astra, not per Aspera ad Libros.”

Mouth hanging open in shock, she finally takes a nice look at Mr. Kim’s nephew. As handsome as this guy was, he certainly wasn’t nice. He had a heart-shaped face of some sort, his cheeks being his widest features before tapering down to his chin. His eyes, best described as puffy monolids, were wide-set and made him look intelligent. If he’s trying to correct my Latin then he certainly is, she thought. Y/N tries to detect any sign of him joking but is only met with the limp rest of his plump lips.

“Namjoon!” Mr. Kim gasps in shock. “We don’t treat customers like that.”

Y/N recovers from...whatever that was and simply questions, “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yeah, I should know.”

Nodding, Y/N takes a look at the book he was reading and ignores his answer, replying with, “How disappointing. Have fun with Fitzgerald.” Y/N then turns to Mr. Kim and says, “Alright, I won’t be here too long, I’ll just see if you have anything of interest.”

Walking towards her favourite section, she hears, “What is wrong with you, Namjoon? You choose now, of all times, to be a smartass?” This was followed by a sharp thump, which Y/N assumed was from Mr. Kim’s hand meeting with Namjoon’s head.

Y/N browses a few sections for ten minutes before noticing Namjoon standing on a ladder from the other side of the shelf. Hearing him grunt, obviously struggling with something, she peers up from between the shelf and cracks of old books and sees him trying to push a book between a tight crevice. Y/N stifles a giggle at how different this guy looks, from the cold, impassive face at the counter to the one with brows furrowed and cheeks puffed up. He was...kinda cute. She keeps watching him from the other side of the shelf and he finally succeeds in nudging the book on the shelf. That, however, came at a price. When he forcefully pushed the novel between two other ones, it came in contact with one on Y/N’s side, sending it tumbling down, hitting Y/N on the forehead.

“OW!” Y/N’s eyes close in pain and her jaw clenches at the sharp and immediate pain. Namjoon, meanwhile, jumps from the top of the ladder and rushes to her side.

“Oh god, I’m so so sorry. Please, I really didn’t mean to hit your head I was just-”

Wanting to tease him, she interrupts him, whining out, “I didn’t know you hated me this much. First you criticize my Latin now you hit me with…” she bends down to pick up the fallen book and does everything in her power to not laugh at the coincidence. “Fitzgerald! You hit me with Fitzgerald! Unbelievable. I’ve been here for thirty minutes and you already have a personal vendetta against me. And here I was thinking that the two of us could be great friends.”

Namjoon tilts his head back and groans. “Great, I’ll never live up to this. I really didn’t intend to hit your head. Are you alright though?”

Y/N playfully nudges his shoulder. “Relax, I’m fine. I’m still in one piece, aren’t I?”

She wasn’t. Blood dripped down from her forehead onto her nose. “What-” Y/N crosses her eyes to inspect the drop and says, “Oh wow, I guess I’m not. You got a tissue?”

This only urged Namjoon to panic even more. “I'M SO SORRY!”

“Hey, it’s fine.”

“It hardly isn’t,” he yelps back, eyes shooting up. “My uncle’s gonna kill me.”

Faking dejection, she hangs her head down and looks up at him through her lashes. “So you’re more worried about your uncle and not me?”

“What?!” Realizing his mistake, he winces, given himself a facepalm. “Just ignore me, please. Let’s get you fixed up before he comes back,” he murmurs, gently pushing Y/N to sit on the counter.

Y/N dangles her legs off the counter, swinging them around like a restless child as Namjoon goes to the backroom, trying to find the first-aid kit as fast as he can. A few seconds later he returns to Y/N, fumbling with the latch of the kit with his large hands before Y/N snatches the white box from him and opens it.

“Don’t be so nervous, Doc, it isn’t life and death. Or…” she tracks off, suddenly grabbing her chest with one hand and holding Namjoon’s shoulder with the other. “Namjoon… I don’t feel so good. What did you do to me?”

“Stop that! Don’t worry me even more.” He sputtered, glaring at Y/N.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Just do your thing.”

Namjoon starts with cleaning up her wound with alcohol, carefully applying pressure so as not to hurt her even further. Y/N winces at the burn on her forehead, causing Namjoon to flinch. “Sorry if I hurt you,” he apologizes, offering her a sheepish grin, revealing the dimples she hadn’t seen up until now. Wow...he’s really handsome.

All the confidence that Y/N flies out the window, becoming increasingly flustered at his adorable features. “It’s alright,” she mumbled, drawing her eyes to the ground.

Namjoon resumes wiping her wound clean and Y/N decides to tease him even further. “Did my comment about Fitzgerald sting you that bad that you had to throw one of his books at me? Or was my Latin that bad?”

Namjoon groans, clearly embarrassed at his own actions. “Can we pleaaassseeee not bring this up again? I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?”

“Hmmmmm,” she considers for a while. “No. My Latin wasn’t wrong, by the way. It was 100 percent correct.”

“But the phrase is-”

“I know what the phrase is. I changed it because I’m talking to the books, not the stars. Through hardships to the books. No matter what I go through, I always find myself with a book or at your uncle’s store. It’s always been that way. You’re not the only smart one here, wiseass,” she finishes, trying to contain her grin.

Namjoon clamps his mouth shut, opens it, and closes it again, all before spitting out, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“It’s alright, Joonie.” He pauses his actions upon hearing this. “Hmmm, Joonie. That’s a cute nickname. I’ll call you that from now on.”

“Oh...alright. That’s-that’s cool.” He’s done with cleaning her forehead, now rummaging through the kit for a band-aid. “Wait. What do you have against Fitzgerald?” He questions, finally finding one of the appropriate size for the cut.

Here’s the kicker. “Absolutely nothing. I quite enjoyed Tender is the Night and The Great Gatsby. I just wanted to get a rile out of you. That’s what you get for trying to correct my Latin.” She taunts, sticking her tongue out at him.

He applies the band-aid and smirks. Now it was Namjoon’s turn to tease her. “And look where it got you.”

“Hey! You said...wait,” she sidetracks, hopping off the counter. “Go out for coffee with me.”

“What? Where’s this coming from?” Namjoon asks, bewildered.

“You said, and I quote, ‘what more do you want from me?’ I’d like to go get coffee together.”

“You really are smooth, huh?” he muses, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I try my best. So what do you say...Joonie?”

“I’m not sure. You could be a psycho murderer for all I know.”

Y/N drops her mouth open and scoffs. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who almost killed me. Listen, You’re new in the city, I can show you around and guess what? I’ll let you pay for the drinks. As an apology for my gorgeous new bump. How’s that sound?”

Namjoon stares at her for a few beats, basking in her features. “You’re really cute when you’re defending your case.”

“Uhhhhh, I know I am, now please, stop beating around the bush. Would you, or would you not like to buy me coffee and allow me to show you the hottest spots in Seoul?

He considers his answer and asks, “Promise not to kill me?”

“I can’t protect you from my good looks, Joonie,” Y/N quips, twirling a strand of her hair with her finger, causing Namjoon to let out a cackle.

“Alright, I’m down. Just make it worth my while, Y/N.”

“Oh, I promise.”

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bastardtetsu · 4 years

Text

critical thinking | ch①

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn

wc: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, being a theatre major

※ mlist | ● ② ③ ④

you knew it was a dumb bitch move to procrastinate on your science requirement.

trying to schedule gen-eds around the demanding requirements of your theatre degree was already a nightmare, and your aversion to maths and sciences makes it even more difficult to find classes that both fit in your schedule AND don’t make you want to actively drop out of school. you weren’t sure why you thought putting off your one and only science credit until your final semester was going to solve any of that. so, you couldn’t be shocked when your only option to graduate on time ended up being 9am chemistry 1. on a monday, no less.

the first class is just as bad as you expect. the lecture drags on for ages, and as much as you will your sleepy morning brain to wrap your head around the concepts being thrown at you, no amount of caffeine, color-coded notes, or mental gymnastics can ford the river of brain-muddling frustration standing between you and a passing grade - the one you need to graduate.

panic begins to set in as you visualize all the hard work you put into your degree rendered useless, all because of a class that doesn’t even have to do with your field of study. who decided there had to be a science requirement anyway? i don’t need fucking chemistry to get a theatre degree??

“if you’re having trouble with anything,” your professor announces, bringing your attention back to the lecture that's finally wrapping up, “the tutoring center on campus is a great resource. i also hold office hours at the times listed on the syllabus. that’s our time for today folks, have a good week.”

you check the syllabus - all of the professor’s office hours conflict with your other classes, of course. asking your classmates is out of the question, seeing as you’re the lone arts major in a sea of STEM and pre-med. as annoying as it is to have to add another item to your schedule, tutoring seems like the only option if you want any hope of graduating. luckily you have some time before your next class, so you pack up your things and head for the tutoring center.

you pray that a decent chem tutor is available during any of your limited free time as you approach the lady at the desk of the tutoring office. she informs you of several with hours later in the week, none of which align with your schedule, and one who is available for the next hour. you figure tutoring right after class isn’t a bad deal - especially considering it’s your only option. the woman gives you a classroom number and a name - kuroo tetsuro - and you set out.

it doesn’t take you long to find the right classroom, but you aren’t prepared for the sight that is waiting for you there. a strong jawline and a mess of black hair that appears to stick up on its own catch your eye first as he taps away at his phone screen, his bored slouch doing nothing to hide his imposing height.

“um... hi, kuroo?” you say tentatively. his eyes glance up from his phone, slightly startled.

“oh, hey,” he responds, sitting up a bit, “you here for tutoring?”

“i am,” you reply with a half smile, “y/n.”

“kuroo. nice to meet you, y/n,” he pulls out the chair next to him as an invitation, “what year are you?”

“i’m a senior,” you say as you make your way over and sit down, “i’m in chem 1.” he definitely seems taller up close, even sitting down.

“chem 1? as a senior?” he asks derisively, his lips curling into a smirk. embarrassment and annoyance shoot through your chest.

“i’m a theatre major, alright,” you respond dryly, “i’m just trying to get my science credit and go.”

“left it ‘til the last minute, huh?” that smirk is still on his face.

“yeah, not my best decision,” you reply, trying not to let your annoyance seep through, “but i’m just trying to pass this class so i can graduate.”

“well, hopefully i can help with that,” he says smugly, “i may be a lowly business major, but i’m pretty good with chem if i do say so myself.”

a business major. of course. you’re familiar with the future capitalist machinery of the business school from your limited experience with the frat parties they so densely populated. needless to say, the impression was not good.

“so what do you need help with?”

“um...” you pondered, “all of it?” he snickered.

“you’re gonna have to be more specific if you wanna get anywhere.” his tone is dripping with amusement. is he trying to piss you off?

“ugh,” you let out an exasperated grunt, suddenly averse to showing any kind of weakness to this jerk. you pull out your notebook and flip to the page where you had attempted to take notes earlier. “this stuff.”

he leans over to take a look at your notes, and as his eyes scan the page you suddenly notice his smell - some fancy-smelling cologne with like, sandalwood or some shit - and his strong but elegant bone structure. i could cut myself on those cheekbones, you think.

“these notes are terrible.”

annnndddd he ruined it.

“well i can’t exactly take good notes if i have no clue what’s going on,” you counter, “isn’t that what you’re supposed to help me with?”

“i can try,” he says with an amused grin, “but I’ve never seen someone struggle this much with the basics on day one.”

now, you could put up with a lot of shit, but the one thing you cannot stand is being condescended to. especially not by some egotistical capitalist fucker who barely knows you.

“look,” you say pointedly, holding back the urge to throat punch him right then and there, “i’m really busy, and i just wanna pass this class, so if you could help me without being a dick about it i’d really appreciate it.”

“aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

his lips twist back into that patronizing smirk - he’s definitely trying to get a rise out of you.

“fuck off,” you say with a roll of your eyes, refusing to take his bait, “are you gonna teach me chemistry or not?”

he chuckles quietly again, thoroughly entertained. “sure. only because I’m so kind, and i could use the challenge.”

you scoff, but hold yourself back from retorting. you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

at first, it’s excruciating. you loathe this douchey business bro getting off on being condescending while explaining chemistry to you like you don’t understand anything - which, to be fair, you don’t. but that somehow makes you resent him more.

granted, once you actually get down to business, kuroo is actually a pretty good tutor. he’s not actively annoying when he’s actually trying to teach you something, and he’s surprisingly patient and good at breaking things down. dude is smart, there’s no denying that.

nevertheless, even when he’s not being snarky, every correction he makes seems to fluster you more. you hate looking stupid in front of others, and something about kuroo seems to amplify that feeling by a thousand. you blame his attitude.

as you fumble trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar numbers, symbols, & formulas, you’re simultaneously attempting to maintain a shred of dignity in front of this man who clearly thinks of you as the dumbest bitch on the planet. and the more you struggle, the more you worry he’s right.

“seeeee? i told you it wasn’t that hard!” he hums as you finish off another homework question you’d been struggling with. he can’t seem to praise you without being patronizing as fuck, either. you look up from your page momentarily to shoot him a glare.

frustration and embarrassment simmer inside of you with each of his snide remarks, but you hold yourself together and divert the attention back to studying each time. the restraint it takes not to deck him right in his pretty face is honestly deserving of a nobel peace prize.

“not bad,” he muses as you finally finish off the last of your homework, “and it only took you two and a half hours!”

“i’m floored,” you deadpan. your brain is too exhausted to formulate a more clever comeback. then you suddenly realize - “hang on... has it actually been two and a half hours? i thought you were only available for one??”

“technically,” he shrugs, “that’s when my tutoring hours end. but I wasn’t doing anything after, and you seemed like you needed the extra help.” that shitty smile is back. you can feel your blood boiling, but at the same time that... is actually pretty nice of him?

“ah... th-thanks,” you mumble, still resistant to showing any signs of weakness - much less gratitude - to the messy-haired prick.

“so, should i expect you back next week?” his stare reminds you of a cat sizing up its prey.

“uh... maybe,” you say. you honestly don’t have an answer yet. “i have to run though, i’ve got another class to get to.”

“don’t be a stranger,” he grins, “you’re gonna need a lot of help if you wanna graduate.”

you shoot him another glare as you swing your bag over your shoulder.

“i’ll think about it.”

he's still smirking at you as you walk out the door.

—

as much as you’d like to deny it, there’s not much to think about. none of the other chem tutors are available when you are, and there’s no way you’re passing the class without the extra help. and, as insufferable as he is, kuroo did help you get through your entire first week of homework successfully.

of course, you still resent having to rely on some nasty ass, pompous business major to mansplain chemistry to you every week so you can graduate. well, technically it’s not mansplaining since you don’t actually know anything about chemistry. and you technically also asked him to do it. but god, does he have to be such a dick about it??

it’s just an hour or two once a week, you reassure yourself, you can put up with it.

this is easier said than done, of course. the following monday, you begrudgingly approach the same classroom, empty except for one (1) chickenhead douchebag, who promptly stares you down with the most shiteating smile you’ve ever seen.

“oya oya~ look who decided to come back!” he croons.

“don’t flatter yourself, it’s not like I had much of a choice,” you respond flatly. why is he still looking at me with that dumb expression?

“true, there’s no way you’re passing on your own.”

“listen,” you reply pointedly, “some people have better things to do than worry about how many neutrons are on hydrogen or whatever”

“hydrogen doesn’t have any neutrons.”

“COOL!!!! i just want to graduate!!”

“well then you’re gonna need to know that hydrogen doesn’t have any neutr-”

“ALRIGHT, i got it,” you huff, “can you just… help me figure out this balancing equations shit? WITHOUT being an asshole about it?”

“hmm… sorry, i can only accept one request at a time.”

this is gonna be a long fucking semester.

a/n: eeeeee this is the first time i’ve actually wholeheartedly attempted to write a fic in lord knows how long (possibly ever?? idk them memories repressed) and my first time posting my own writing so i hope y’all like it !! everybody who’s ready to see me trash talk k*roo t*tsuro say way ho

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #.txt #e writes

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shortythescreen · 4 years

Text

come over chapter 2: the invitation.

Warning(s): NSFT/18+, fem reader, dysfunctional family dynamics, semi public sex.

Relationship(s): Octane/Female Reader.

Summary: Octavio’s family is having an event for their donors. He’d really rather not go but you’d make it a lot more bearable.

Author’s Notes: I LLIIIIIVEEEEEEE. It took forever to get here y’all but here it is! Part 2 of Come Over! It was originally like, 10k words so I split it into two. Which means Part 3 is already written and I’ll just wait to see how this does before I put it out.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3.

Octavio doesn’t avoid his family.

He doesn’t! He really doesn’t. Seven chances out of ten, he picks up the phone when his mama calls, and if he doesn’t it’s probably because he’s in the arena. Or out. Whatever.

He’s sent his papa text messages during every major holiday he isn’t there for. Not that he isn’t there for a lot of them! He’s hasn’t missed El Dia de los Reyes in. Ever. Even if he didn’t show up for his parents’ New Year’s Eve party days prior. Not that he hadn’t wanted to, he’s just a busy guy. Busy guys don’t have time to go to every social event their billionaire parents host.

That’s what he’s trying to tell his mama.

“Mami, I’m busy with the games-” he tries, pressing his fingers to his temples, for once grateful that his mama doesn’t know how to operate the video camera function on her tablet. Otherwise, she’d see the twist of his lip as he speaks. He kinda thinks she might still be able to hear it, considering Elliot is skirting him as he walks through the common room, trying to distance himself from the hostility in his voice.

“Octavio, ya.” She bites and the tone of her voice seals his lips shut. Fuck. How’s that even fair? “The next game isn’t until Monday. You can be back on planet by Sunday night if you leave tomorrow.”

“Ma, I can’t,” Octavio tries, but his mama cuts him off.

“Yes, you can! Octavio Jose, you use Silva Pharmaceuticals for the games. This party is to celebrate all the donors that give us the resources to create the stim you use. You will come to this party, shake hands, jump hoops and do whatever these people want, or we will revoke your supply. Do you understand me?”

Octavio’s nostrils flare, his leg jiggling as he pushes his teeth against his tongue piercing. The stretch of metal against his muscle is half painful, but he ignores the ache in favor of clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Do you hear me-”

“Yes, ma, I’ll be there, bye.” And with that, Octavio taps the pad in front of him, effectively ending the call. He’ll get some messages later about hanging up on her, but he doesn’t care. All he wants to do right now is put his head through the fucking table next to the tablet.

“That, uh, sounded pretty heated,” Elliot says and Octavio snorts, turning pinched green eyes up to his fellow legend. He’s holding out a water bottle, clutching another in his opposite hand, and Octavio snatches it from his hand, not even bothering to grumble a thank you as he guzzles half of it. “Whoa! Easy!”

“I have to go to a party this weekend,” Octavio bites, ignoring the way that Elliot’s lips stitch shut, like his did when mama told him ya. Elliot hums, sipping more cautiously at his own water.

“Wow, what a predac- p-perdim- that kinda sounds like a dumb reason to be upset,” Elliot drops the sarcasm as he fumbles over the word and Octavio barks a laugh.

“Compadre, I wish it was,” he grits, pressing the flat of his palm against his still jiggling knee. It keeps moving. “My parents are hosting some stupid thank you donor thing.”

“That doesn’t sound that bad,” Elliot says, hopping over the edge of the couch to settle beside Octavio. He throws his boots up, resting them on the coffee table in front of him, the slide of the front door accompanied by some more footfalls. “You’ve thanked Silva Pharm on camera before.”

“It’s not the same,” Octavio grunts. Donors lived for Octane. They lived for his thrill seeking and heart stopping shows. They loved his tattoo and his catch phrases and wanted him to keep it up.

His parents didn’t want Octane. They wanted Octavio. And not even the real Octavio – the one they’d always wanted him to be. The one who was content being a dutiful son. The one who didn’t blow off his own legs with a grenade. The one who didn’t renounce his position as the heir to Silva Pharm.

“My mom said she’ll revoke my supply of stim if I don’t go,” he tells Elliot, who sucks in air through his teeth.

“Ooh, yikes. Guess you don’t have a choice, huh?” Elliot says. Octavio grimaces, now sipping at his water, hand still trying to placate his jittering leg.

“No he don’t. He knew that when his mama called,” a voice says and Octavio glances over, catching Ajay at the fridge on the edge of the common room. She’s pulled out a flavorless yogurt and busies herself scraping it into a bowl.

Ajay has been talking to him little by little, but they haven’t talked about the- incident. Of him lying. He lied to her. He regrets it most days. Right now, he really does, because he could really use her advice.

“Maybe it won’t be that bad!” Elliot says and Octavio sniffs, looking down at the coffee table to avoid Ajay’s eyes as she flops onto the couch across from them. She, too, kick her feet up onto the coffee table, slouching into the cushions.

“Maybe,” Octavio says, not moping into his water.

Silence passes between the three long enough for it to begin to feel stiff. Ajay breaks it with a loud sigh, and his eyes turn up, finding her staring at him.

“What?” He asks.

“Do ya parents still need a photographer?” She asks instead of answering him. Octavio blanches, sitting upright, and his leg stops in its insistent shaking, the click of his metal foot ceasing abruptly.

“What?” He asks again and Ajay blusters her lips, stuffing a spoonful of yogurt between her cheeks.

“Ya parents never let you bring a plus one ‘cause you always bring some so’n’so,” Ajay says and before Octavio protests, she continues, “shut up, yes ya do. If they still need a photographer, bring ours. She’s ya friend, right? She’ll make it more bearable, and she’s official, so ya parents won’t say nutin’.”

Octavio swallows, holding Ajay’s stare. She always seems so critical – like she knows what he’s thinking even when he doesn’t think he’s thinking at all. He wonders if she can tell how he’s been around you recently – if she’s noticed how you show up at his house late at night.

“Plus, she’s totally hot,” Elliot remarks and Octavio bristles and, oh yeah, Ajay notices. Her face remains neutral, but she thumps her foot against Elliot, who whines as the coffee table rattles beneath them.

“I’ll think about it,” he mutters, turning back to his water.

-----

It’s probably a bad idea for Octavio to invite you to his parents’ party.

After his… realization, he’s sort of been avoiding you. Not directly because Octavio doesn’t directly avoid- anything, really. He doesn’t avoid things. He’s not avoiding you. You guys just haven’t had sex since he said te amo into your throat. That’s all.

He’s not totally avoiding you, though. He still sends you shitty memes and you still tell him to let you work. He even brought you lunch the other day because your dumbass forgets to eat. Which is why he’s carrying over some empanadas to your studio.

Apex spared no expense for someone who was going to be key to their marketing. Your studio has vaulted ceilings and the pristine, white walls and tarps are constantly lit by either the natural light of the sun or the way too tall studio lights.

You seem concerned with neither, hunched in front of the triple monitors posed in front of your shooting area. He’s pretty sure that’s a picture of Bloodhound you’re editing.

“Hey,” he says, and you jump, your rolling chair skittering back as you dazedly blink up. Your eyes pinch as you squint, clearly perturbed from looking away from the screen after however long you’d been staring.

“Jesus! Fucking say something next time, Oc, you scared me!” You say and Octavio snickers, lips curling into a devious grin against his will.

“C’mon, amiga, you should’ve heard me coming,” he says, tapping his metal foot on the black tile. You huff, turning back to your computer.

“Shut up. What do you want?” You ask, leaning a little closer to the screen, despite having already zoomed in pretty damn far on Artur. Octavio grabs the chair at your left that you usually reserve for when your bosses come to visit, then flops down. The wheels careen him a little away, but he grabs the edge of your desk and pulls himself up.

“You need to eat, muchacha,” he says, holding up the brown paper bag. You purse your lips, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. Wordlessly, you take the bag from him, then move away from your computer.

You lean back in your seat, kicking your legs up onto his lap. Instinctively, Octavio reaches down, grabbing the edges of your feet to keep them in place on his thighs. He thumbs at the edge of your shoe and his nostrils flare. Damn it.

“Thanks,” you say, the crinkle of the bag the only sound for a little. Octavio rests an elbow on the edge of your desk, turning to look at what you’d been doing to Artur. He can see your notes at the top of the screen, scrawled with some digital pen: no alterations to the bird – it would be disrespectful to Houn-

“What’s the matter with you?” You ask, startling Octavio out of his reading. He turns his head to face you, your cheek bulged as you chew.

“What do you mean what’s the matter with me?” He asks back and you roll your eyes, swallowing hard.

“You’re never this quiet,” you say and Octavio huffs, turning to face the screen once again, his leg beginning to bounce in anticipation.

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck you, stop moving.”

“I’m not a fucking—a fucking—joda, what’s that word?”

“What word?”

“You know, for the- for the thing. When you put your feet up. Reposapíes.”

“What, like an ottoman?”

“No, fuck. I mean, yes, but that’s not the word I was thinking of.”

“A footrest?”

“Eso! Yes! Fuck you, I’m not a footrest.”

You press your lips together and silence passes between you for a moment. Then you snort, shoulders folding in. You raise your brows at him, and he sighs, chuckling through a groan, leaning back in his own seat to drag his hand down his face.

“Kinda lost steam there,” you say, and he squeezes the tips of your toes, half in warning, and you giggle. Your expression softens and you nudge his stomach with the toe of your shoe, tickling at the edge of where a sensor exists in his abdomen. “C’mon, Oc, what’s going on? You can talk to me…”

He knows he can. Octavio has vented to you about lots of things before. He’s vented to you about Anita, back before she started to cut him a little bit of slack. He’s vented to you about his phantom pains, on the days that he wakes up and forgets that he doesn’t really have legs anymore. He’s even vented to you about his parents before – about how his father has never quite accepted the man he’s become and how his mom is like an ice sculpture. Beautiful from a distance, but cold, and quick to melt under heat.

Still, with the… incident, he’s hesitant. He feels like he’s digging himself a deeper hole than he should. But he’s here. On Ajay’s advice. Ajay’s always known what’s best, in a way. At least, it seems that way.

“I have to go to some stupid donor function for Silva Pharmaceuticals or my parents are gonna revoke my stim,” Octavio blurts and he sees your expression soften a little, the edges of your brows drooping, your lips half pursing, and he hates, hates the loud LUBB-DUPP in his ears.

“That fucking sucks,” you tell him and he half snorts.

“Si, I know… But you would make it less sucky,” he says, “you… wanna come? I always have a plus one but my ma doesn’t like when I bring just anybody.”

“And your fuck buddy isn’t just anybody?” You deadpan, raising a brow, and Octavio hums, tugging at the toe of your shoe on his lap.

“You’re a professional photographer,” he reminds you. “It would only be for a night. Less than twelve hours. Fourteen if you include ride time to Psamathe.”

“Oh, Oc…”

“Mami, please? Please. My parents would pay you for the shots. There’s gonna be tons of booze.” He tries.

“Octavio-”

“You don’t even have to talk to anyone but me!” He insists.

“Oc-”

“I hate these things. We can get a hotel right after and you can ride my face right up until I have to be back for the game-”

“Yes! Yes, Octavio!” You cry, reaching over and grabbing his shoulders, your body bending awkwardly, tummy crinkling the empanada bag in your lap. You shake him a little. “Yes, I will come with you, Jesus Christ. I was gonna say yes to begin with!”

“Why didn’t you just come out and say that then?” He huffs, though the tension drains out of his shoulders and he smiles at you, lips pulling up further at one corner. His chest expands with breath, like a weight has been lifted.

“I was trying but you don’t shut the fuck up.” You mutter, shoving his shoulders and he throws his head back, laughing into the vaulted ceiling of your studio.

-----

The week comes and goes within the blink of an eye and Octavio is… Definitely not ready to go to this stupid event. He’s texted you a little more throughout the week, telling you the kind of attire that’s expected at these dumb functions and reminding you that you don’t have to bring any crazy equipment with you.

He calls mama at the last minute, of course, telling her that he’s bringing on a photographer who expects to be paid in full for her services. She’s huffy about it but mostly seems glad someone will be capturing the event from the perspective of the Silva family – though why she kept his pa’s name after the divorce, he’ll never know. Anyway, it’s not like they can’t afford to pay you.

Octavio wears the black tie he knows his mama will hound him not for wearing but he refuses to put the blazer on. Instead, he’ll just carry it, black fabric hanging off his forearm. The sleeves of his white button up are rolled up to his elbows and even though mama could make a big stink, he’d remind her he could have showed up in what he wore in the games – including the Jade Tiger outfit.

It might have been a little too intimate to pick you up. The thought of knocking on your door at an appropriate hour, of being in his monkey suit and offering you his arm, made this feel more like it was a date and not just a favor. Instead, Octavio ordered you a cab and now, he’s waiting for you just outside the entrance of Ship’s Landing.

He’s tapping away on his phone, playing a racing game that he’s definitely going to beat Makoa’s score in. His tongue pokes out and he leans a little closer, glancing up only when he hears the whistle of vehicles going by, hoping to catch sight of your cab.

It’s in the middle of a jump that requires all his attention, a taxi stops right in front of him and the door opens. Octavio glances up, looking back down at his game, only to stop and look back up again, this time lowering his phone to get a better look.

His heart must be running a relay, must be trying to get a lead with a grenade, because the second he sees you, all he can hear is that loud noise again. Like an explosion of movement through his arteries and veins, his heart desperately trying to pick up with the adrenaline in his system. For once, it isn’t a fight, or an explosion, or a race that causes it, though. It’s you.

It’s you, struggling to get some huge camera tote out of the taxi while in high heels (he told you that you just had to bring a camera, damn it). It’s you, wearing a shade of vermillion that matches the fabric of your dress that hugs your figure. It’s you, with the off the shoulder, sweetheart neckline, and Octavio is surprised he can still recall anything about fashion. He’s kind of kicking himself for it too, because he can’t stop thinking of how much of a sweetheart that cut is, how easy it would be to slide it down your chest.

Octavio’s chest constricts, pupils blown wide as he imagines those heels digging into his ass as he fucks you, the sharp pinch of them spurring him faster, harder. It would be so easy to push you back into the cab, pay the driver a little extra to keep quiet while he shucks the dress up to your hips and sucks on your clit until you’re crying.

You guys should skip this. As a matter of fact, he should pay the cab driver to take you guys home so he can rip that dress off you. So, he doesn’t have to see you glide around in it, taking pictures, laughing and holding glasses of chardonnay at some stupid promotional party he doesn’t give a flying fuck about it.

“Oc?” Your voice snaps him from his reverie and Octavio realizes you’re staring at him, lips pursed, half waving to get his attention. “Can you shut the door?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathes, moving forward to shut the cab door. “You… look really good.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say, smirking his way, and the rare little dance of mischief that glitters in your eyes makes his heart constrict. Fuck, he’s in so much trouble. This was a bad idea. Why did Ajay tell him to do this?

“We should skip this thing,” he tells you, waggling his brows, and you purse your lips at him.

“And get your stim revoked?” Right. He’d forgotten. Which is saying something, a voice in his head that sounds very much like Che says. He bats her away.

“Shut up, I know,” he mumbles and you two walk towards the ship his mama had ordered to take you to Psamathe. It has the Silva Pharmaceuticals logo on the side and he waves away the driver who stands with his arms folded at the passenger doors.

Octavio opens the trunk, taking your camera tote and laying it down in the backseat. You fuss at him, telling him that you can hold it in your lap and that this extravagant looking ship definitely has the space for you to hold your camera. He waves you off, telling you that you’re going to be in the ship for two hours, and you don’t need to be holding the bag in your lap the whole time.

After that, you two set off, towards his home planet. The ship his ma ordered is, of course, top of the line. The interior is plush, and over cushioned, with a tiny little bar on the opposite side of the long seats. You gaze around in wonder, squinting at the compartment at the top of the ship that he knows contains a disco ball.

“Jeez, your family pulled out all the stops, huh?” You ask and he snorts, scooting towards the edge of the seat and grabbing a bottle of Aguardiente his knows his pa keeps stashed for when he has to ride with ma to events.

“Gotta show up in style,” he mumbles, grabbing one of the little cups stacked on top of a fancy looking cupholder. “Would look bad if I came in just a cab.”

He feels your gaze burning on the side of his face and he holds out the first glass of liquor to you. When he looks in your direction, you shake your head, and Octavio shrugs, taking the first shot with a loud ‘aa’ sound afterwards and a little clench of his teeth. Coño, that shit’s strong.

“You’re really stressed about this,” you conclude, and Octavio turns to look at you again. Your hands rest idly in your lap and your eyes seem to look right through him, finding all the little weak spots, the little internal ticks that made him say that stupid thing into your neck.

“I am,” he says, “you can help me de-stress, if you want, chica.”

He waggles his eyebrows at you, masking his discomfort at how easily you read him with a little laugh. To Octavio’s surprise, you reach over, placing a hand on his thigh, and his eyes meet yours with dark intent.

“Yeah,” you say, then lean in, and kiss him. His heart constricts in his chest and he hate, hate, hates Ajay right now.

At the same time, he loves her. Thinks that he should thank her, should apologize and thank her, because you’re kissing him slowly, lips warming him with every gentle slide. Your chin tucks a little closer to your chest as you bow your head, just enough to catch his lower lip between his teeth. He sighs, squirming at the gentle scrape, the distracting buzz of your hand creeping closer to the space between his thighs.

“If we fuck, can you manage not to get cum on this dress?” You ask him as you pull away and his dick throbs at the thought of fucking you.

“Absolutamente, mami,” he mutters, hands creeping out to grab at your hips. He wants to pull you on top of him, pull whatever panties you’re wearing to the side. Watch his dick disappear inside you. Watch you throw your head back while he pulls down that sweetheart neckline-

“I don’t believe that,” you grumble but you’re pushing him down onto the long seat. Octavio lands with a thump and he’s kind of thankful he doesn’t have much hair. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, watching you make your way down his body. You don’t stop to place gentle kisses on his stomach, or any of that other fluffy bullshit that makes his stomach flutter, and he’s grateful and disappointed all at the same time.

You wrangle his belt open, the button of his pants and his fly following. You only scoot his waistband down enough to reveal his boxer briefs and the choked off sound that leaves him as you fenagle his dick out of the small gap in them is embarrassing.

“Shit, mami, you don’t have to, we can wait,” he says, even though his fingers are already tangling in your hair. Impatient. You smirk up at him.

“I don’t think you can,” you reply, before you drag your tongue up the underside of him. He gasps, like the air has been punched from his lungs, hypersensitive from weeks of having not been touched. You let saliva pool in your mouth, then stick your tongue out, watching it drip down. It makes his dick glisten, slippery with your saliva, and a dark spot forms at the base where he’s poking out of his boxer-briefs.

“Baby,” he whines and now his hand has tightened, trying desperately to push you where he wants you. Your licks and kisses are good, but not enough, not for how hard he is, for how he wants to fuck into your throat.

You only smirk, dragging the flat of your tongue up, the tip of it flicking just beneath the head. His hips jerk at the sensation and he rolls his neck back with a little groan. Octavio is always so vocal, so willing to tell you what he wants and what he doesn’t. Right now, what he wants is for you to take it, suck his dick until his eyes cross and he cums down your throat.

“I’m working on it,” you reply, and he definitely hadn’t realized he said that out loud. Oh well. You finally, finally, gracias a Dios, take the tip of him into your mouth. You place your puckered lips over the very tip, tongue poking the salty slit, and Octavio’s mouth falls open. Yours does a moment later and your cheeks hollow as you make your down the length of him.

“Puuuutamadre! Baby! Fuck!” Octavio gasps and he’s thankful to be riding in such a large ship because he’s certain if he kept it up, the driver would definitely know what was going on. He also kind of doesn’t give a fuck, hips trembling with the effort to not fuck your throat. You bob your head up and down, tongue glued to the hard length of him, and fuck, your eyes are closed, like you’re enjoying this.

You have the audacity, in all of this, to drag the tip of your finger around the base of him. He’s so close to being fully buried inside you. You push yourself, making wet noises that go straight to his dick as your lips finally touch the opening of his underwear. Then, the tip of your wet finger prods his rosebud, and that’s all it takes for Octavio to cum.

Toe curling, jaw dropping orgasm. That’s all he can think of when you finally get him to cum, the mere tease of your finger inside somewhere so intimate making his thighs clench. He shudders out, fist clenched tightly in your hair, trying to keep you down and still respect if you need to come up for air, but, coño, do you make it hard to keep that split train of thought going. He feels you swallow, throat folding around his cock, and the motion itself makes him whimper, for once overstimmed.

You slowly pull away, lips swollen and wet and red, sitting back on your knees with a shit eating grin. Octavio is catching his breath, trying desperately to slow his racing heart which, for once, isn’t caused by stim stabbed into his thigh. You gently massage his thighs and, Jesus, he really wishes you wouldn’t do shit like that.

“You good?” You murmur and the husky edge of your voice makes his spine tingle. He nods, slowing his breath to normal.

“I forgot how good you are at giving head,” he tells you and you snort as he looks around. When he doesn’t spy a handtowel, or something that isn’t a napkin that won’t stick to his dick, he gives up, tucking it away with your drool still on it. He adjusts his fly, slowly sitting up, muscles more relaxed than they’ve been in the week since he’d gotten that phone call.

“I expect you to return the favor on the flight home,” you say and he grins, for the moment distracted from the impending doom of his parents.

#apex legends #octane/reader #octane x reader #octane/you #apex imagines #apex lemons #octane x you #fem reader #nsft #lemon #lime?#whatever there's some spicy shit in here #if ur not 18 don't enter lmao #shorty writes #female reader

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enchantednightingales · 5 years

Text

RJC’s review of: A Number

I’d like to start by apologising for the continued use of the almost-pun “A Number” but in my defence... Caryl Churchill started it.

There are A Number of things one can look forward to in Polly Findlay’s production of “A Number” at The Bridge theatre and just three of them are Colin Morgan. Fangirls can delight that Colin’s stealth stage door exit skills have FINALLY been put to their stunning first use on stage. Colin plays three different characters with about six to eight costume changes in the space of an hour. He disappears and reappears completely anew and it is magnificently seamless.

When I first read the play I had A Number of concerns. Maybe I’m an old fashioned kind of gal but I prefer sentences to begin AND end. I’m greedy like that. I found the play far too difficult a read and I was somewhat apprehensive about the production. Fortunately, I see the text benefits from performance as Roger Allam and Colin Morgan breathe something reminiscent of natural into those lines. I tip my imaginary hat to them as well, remembering that stuff must be tricky, the majority of these lines don’t follow a natural structure and tripping on the lines would weaken the effect.

I am not completely sold on this effect to be honest. It cries device to me and distances this tale from pertinence. “She was one of those people, when they say there has been a person under a train” is a good example. WHO EVER says that? Ever? Nobody. I’m a great lover of words but apparently I don’t like them in this particular order. I never was one for the abstract. Be prepared for a little abstract.

Colin’s nasal and fumbling B2 makes a lot more sense in person than I could have ever anticipated when reading. A Number is obviously not quite my cup of tea shall we say but it is becoming an increasingly tolerable piece thanks to the efforts of this production. It’s an intriguing story. A failed father seeks a fresh start, sends his son into care but not before cloning him, as “tribute”. Written just as cloning became a legitimate thing it’s pushing at big relevant buttons but for my money it’s a paper thin approach. It’s definitely a conversation piece though, a trigger of questions, forcing you to think and figure the thing out. If you can be bothered to meet it half way and you kinda have to.

A Number is another “sins of the fathers” type narrative in which Salter, the father, cannot break the cycle of his own ineptitude and selfishness. A price his sons inevitably will have to pay. I won’t give that price away but it makes for a sad little story. Some emphasis on little. When it could have been bigger (that’s what she said).

A Number hits a number of notes in its short duration. It’s kinda funny, it’s even kinda cute (maybe that’s just Colin), it’s kinda sad, kinda creepy, kinda cruel and ultimately super dark.

Roger Allam and Colin Morgan pull out of the bag a rather lovely and truly unforgettable chemistry as father and sons. I’m not quite used to seeing Allam as the “little man”. His appearance is entirely ordinary and as a character he’s far from powerful or noble. For a man usually possessed of scene stealing charisma, Allam fearlessly relished in the grim and pitiful. He’s squirming from the beginning to the end. Trying to contain the anger of his first son, trying to contain the disappointment of his second son and in the final act, trying to salvage some scrap of meaning or importance from one beautifully blasé last (of 19) hopes. Allam’s physicality when B1 is on stage is intriguing to watch as he screams fear and seeks distance. His tone when B2 is on stage almost convinces you of wholesomeness and genuine love. Salter is quite an understated journey but enjoy as Allam hits every single note of it in true masterclass fashion.

One could marvel for A Number of hours about how amazing the stage is for this production. The first night, when the room completely changed angle, my eyes widened like a kid in a Colin Morgan-themed Candy store! WOW. It messed with my mind so much that I was second guessing everything. What they can do nowadays is awesome. I still don’t quite get how it all works and where exactly Colin escapes to in-between but... that’s the magic of theatre for you.

I’m also a big fan of the 90s kinda feel. The stack tables, the CD tower, the TV stand, the landline phone! It’s soooooo 90s I keep expecting to hear Hanson’s MMM Bop playing upstairs or something. I feel like I’m a teenager again, at my friends’ house and it’s all kicking off between her hot older brother and his step-dad again. Flashbacks....

My only criticism with the whole set change thing is the decision to blast some crazy sounds at you for their duration. It’s like watching a crappy horror movie with jump scares that don’t lead anywhere. It’s not particularly satisfying and ones patience for it tends to wear thin. Especially when everyone around you likes to gasp and yelp every time it happens. Personally, not sure why nobody just took my advice of playing Bjork’s “Army of Me” in-between the set changes. I’ve only got an entire playlist of suggestions but whatever. You know better. I suppose it might wake the odd theatre sleeper.

Can I talk about Colin Morgan now?

I feel like A Number is a bit of a showcase of everything Colin can do (and do better than anyone else). He’s got the skills for comedy, for brutality, for tears and not to mention his signature LIMITLESS energy. As his self-elected number one fangirl I will quite happily sit there and bask in the pride as he totally nails this whole thing.

Colin’s three characters are all quite different. One might easier refer to them as Benjamin, Leo and... well... Michael. B2 is adorable in his almost whiney tone and sounds possibly too much like Yasmin in “Worldship Humility” accent (for my liking). I keep expecting him to start calling people goat fucking somethings but so far he’s not done it. His twitchy, stiff awkwardness is reminiscent of Benjamin but that’s about it.

B1 isn’t exactly Leo-like, he’s far too efficient for that, he just STRANGELY ENOUGH looks A LOT like him. The hoodie and denim don’t help. He’s got that similar breaking point type edge to him. B1 sounds as serious as he is and for the first time ever, Colin is somewhat unsettling, I don’t blame Roger for keeping his distance. He’s a tad nasty and Colin goes there. Customarily though Colin helps us to “see it human” with a tear or two. As poor B1 just sits there stewing in his own anger, hatred and confusion, lost to a father and lost to himself. It’s a sad tale and Colin sure won’t let you miss the point.

B1 is part of my favourite exchange which involves Salter demonstrating his worst colours when he justifies his actions by claiming B1 was something to be crushed. Representative of the lacking thought and care that can go into the creation of life that is ultimately one of mankind’s most devastating flaws. B2 speaks of being cloned from a speck and says “you threw the rest of me away”. Colin slays me with that line. I am dead now. He killed me. Here I must afford A Number with the compliment that it is effectively unsettling and unpleasant, which is, what I think it was going for. I hope.

Can I talk about Michael now?

He’s so adorable. Can I just point out SPOILER that Michael is Irish! Even Irish clones are better! Unlike in All My Sons, Colin catches a break and can conclude this show on a happier note, he’s a happy man attune to and accepting of similarities to the likes of apes and lettuces. He’s a purple shirt of sex wearing Maths teacher twenty years away from Netflix and Chill with his pointy eared wife (possibly called Rebecca in my head) and he’s at ease with life, fatherhood and clone-being. I love Michael. When he’s on stage “you can’t help feeling wonderful”.

Dean (Gloria) has a cheerful contender for my heart. Who saw that coming?

After that ridiculous wait we all had to endure while Colin was being all lazy and stuff we finally get some Colin vs Bad Dad on stage again!

PS. Did I mention that Michael is lovely?

#ColinMorgan #Colin Morgan #Roger Allam #RogerAllam #A Number #ANumber #TheBridgeTheatre #The Bridge Theatre #RJC #Polly Findlay #Caryl Churchill

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duhliriouss · 5 years

Text

A Pawn & A King:

Chapter One

AN: This is a long ongoing story that will contain many chapters around 3000 words each. This will contain lots of angst, abuse, smut, drama, conflict, oh and smut! Please let me know if you have any suggestions you would like to see in future chapters. Some constructive criticism is much appreciated as well since this is my first FanFic. If you haven’t already, please read the Prologue below before proceeding to chapter one. Enjoy!

Prologue

Warnings: swearing, therapy, angst, abuse, self harm, mental illness

Summary: Y/N had lived her whole life in Gotham being unappreciated and disgaurded. With no family and an abusive roommate to rely on, Y/N doesn’t have much of a choice to resign anywhere else in the city. Yet she keeps on giving naively until her decent into madness and her meeting of the Joker.

Word count: 3,033

Disclaimer: I do not own Joker - Todd Philips or any character associated in Joker

Chapter One:

Your day carried on like any normal Monday. Surprisingly, you always felt at ease while working at the bank. Away from your reality. Away from anything that resembled your worthless life and place you called home.

You didn’t sleep well last night.

Your last hours dragged as you struggled to hold normal everyday conversations, Yet you always held a smile. No matter how tired you were you tried hard at your jobs. You cared.

You always cared. Too much it always seems. No one ever saw you angry. Your anger only consisted of getting red hot in the checks and running away with tears flying down your face. You’ve always been an emotional person that it make you ache day in and day out.

You felt things intensely.

All this has made you quite the pushover over the years. Someone could slap you across your face and you’d thank them, and/or apologize for anything you might have done wrong.

You hated this about yourself. One of your major flaws was muttering apologies for every action you made. Your psychiatrist has helped you discover over the months it was how your, now deceased brother tormented you all your childhood. And of course not letting you forget the disappointment your father had for you all your childhood years.

You knew you shouldn’t be sorry for most of the things you apologized for. But you’ve lost control on how to handle yourself when the real moments came.

The clock hit 4:00 pm and it was finally time to finish the rest of your exhausting day.

You swallowed hard as your feet left the building.

You didn’t like walking through the allies and streets of Gotham. You were used to being alone and even though you’ve walked alone in these streets over and over day by day, you always clenched yourself tightly looking down at your feet as you walked a steady pace, only focusing on point A to B.

Walking by people fighting and screaming, creepy men whistling as you hurried by, ignoring the robberies and drug deals as you focused your attention on the ground was a daily thing in Gotham. Yet it never ceased or lowered your fear.

You made your way to the train station and took a seat. You finally looked up to take in your surroundings for the first time since you left the bank.

Graffiti scattered most of the walls, mixed with flyers and Thomas Wayne For Mayer posters. Your eyes darted carefully around you to find just a few other passengers. Not sensing anything intimidating you focused your attention back on the poster.

Moving Gotham Forward

you huffed a small laugh quietly under your breath. You didn’t give a shit about politics. But some things you couldn’t help but chuckle at.

The city has always been run by the rich. Spilling their euphonious sounding lies as the city eats it up year by year. And when you see Wayne on the news, You don’t see a difference. That was one thing you wouldn’t let yourself be a pawn over.

“How’s your job”

“It’s good.”

“Home?”

“Fine”

You kept your eyes down fidgeting and twisting your cigarette in between your fingers.

Every week your multiple breakdowns gave you mental notes to talk about in your therapy sessions. Yet when the time came... you just sat there. Struggling to say anything at all.

The quietness and the burning of her eyes on you quickened your heart rate.

“Have you been journaling like I asked”

“No Mam” Your voice was soft and apologetic.

“And why’s that?”

You finally lifted your gaze to meet hers

“I don’t have time, I never have any time”

“Ah”

You watched silently as she traced her pen over the stacks in her folder printed with your name. Silence filling the room again.

“How does it feel coming here every week, having someone to talk to. Does it help?”

You took your time trying to find the right answer. You didn’t know. You never really knew anything once you sat in that seat. Once you walked through those doors you WERE a closed door, fumbling over your words. Frustrating yourself when you couldn’t find them.

“I - I don’t know. I think it was better for everyone around me when I was locked up in the hospital”

Your sentence started off nervous but as your heart rate slowed to your words, you felt the familiar numbness hit your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, your physiatrist noted the strangely similar, yet still different personalities you and someone else shared.

“I’m here to help you, you shouldn’t let yourself feel a burden to the world around you”

You couldn’t help but let out a cold, almost sarcastic laugh. Taking a drag off your cigarette you shifted your body to sit up straighter. You replayed her words in your head and frowned shamefully, Furrying your brows together and keeping your gaze downward

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at the fact you’re trying to help me. I just -“

You didn’t struggle with your words this time. You simply didn’t know how to tell her you’ve been living with someone whom has beat you countless times, made you feel more of a burden than anyone else. Never mind everyone else in your life. You didn’t have a family because of your burdens. No one at your jobs appreciated you and now that you think about it, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who has actually appreciated you for you.

But what can you do? You were stuck. You didn’t have any other choices in Gotham to resign to. And being manipulated by Harvie for years now.. frankly, you were just too scared to make any decisions in your life.

You noticed you haven’t said anything in awhile.

You looked up again at the woman you knew didn’t truly care about the struggles you went through. Her eyes stayed down at your papers, flipping through the pages.

“You’re on 3 different medications, Y/N. Would you like me to up the dosa-“

“Yes, please”

You responded fast and eagerly. You’d do anything to not feel so bad anymore.

“Alright..” her words were flat and unamused.

“I’ve also been noticing your Bipolar Disorder has been more; manic recently. I’m going to prescribe you Lamotrigine. Just don’t take it in the afternoon with your anxiety med, and start taking your birth control in the morning instead. Taking all these together can make you become rather reckless.”

Your mind drifted off at “manic”. You stared past her left shoulder as she continued to speak into a complete zone out.

You were precisely dead inside.

“Can you remember that?”

Your eyes darted back to her. You gave her a warm fake-like, but believable smile and nodded your head

“Yes mam, thank you”

Her eyes studied you carefully then up at the clock that hanged over the door behind you.

“It seems our time is a little over schedule”

You both stood from your chairs rhythmically

“Let me know how you’re feeling next week”

“What?”

“You know, any side affects, nausea, change in mood”

“Oh yes.. right. Okay” you gave one last, sheepish smile before turning on your heels to the door. Keeping your head down preparing yourself to face the public again.

You opened the door quite fast and started to walk, fumbling to try and get your hands into your coat pockets to pull out another cigarette. Before you could take a third step you bumped right into something solid.

You bumped into someone. You clumsily tried to take a few steps back but a pair of strong hands kept you in place from falling, both hands on your elbows.

Your face shot up to look at the face of who you just humiliated yourself in front of.

But you were met with gorgeous, humbling green eyes.

“Oh.. hi Arthur” your cheeks instantly flushed still embarrassed and not sure how to react. As your eyes stayed locked, you took in his features being so uncomfortably close to him. His hair was slicked back and his lips curved into a slight smile, making the crows feet on the corner of his eyes accentuated

“Im so sorry, clearly I don’t pay attention to my surroundings as often as I should”

He let out a breathy laugh, letting go of your arms. You now kept your eyes to your feet.

“Where are you so eager to get to anyway?”

“I’m not sure. Just in my own little world I guess. I uh.. also have to stop at the corner store to pick up some food items for dinner tonight. Then I have to go to the laundry mat to put in a couple hours..”

You found yourself rambling. He didn’t need this much explanation. Stop talking!

You finally stopped and cleared your throat along with one deep breath. Not hearing anything you decided to slowly look up and meet his gaze. Arthur almost looked as nervous as you were. But he still held a somewhat amused smile.

“Y/N, are you alright? You seem more flustered than usual”

“Yes I’m fine.. just a busy a schedule today is all. Again, I’m sorry for running into you.”

He studied your face as you spoke. Noticing the dark bags that had accumulated under your beautiful (y/e/c) eyes. His eyes then wandered to your flushed cheeks before briefly landing on your plump red lips. You suddenly felt attacked under his gaze and tried it focus on anything else around the hallway.

Arthur noticed this.

Feeling awkward for clearly making you more uncomfortable he cleared his throat and went to stutter out a goodbye before entering the room you just left seconds before. But instead surprised himself with the boldness of what he said instead

“Would you like to get coffee tonight?”

“I - I can’t, I have to work and and cook dinner for Harvie and I tonight”

“Oh.. right” he laughed nervously “sorry that was stupid of me to ask..”

“It’s okay”

A silence filled the hallway

“Hey, can I uh” he slicked his hair back anxiously “can I at least give you my number? You could really use a real cup of coffee sometime this week. just call me on a night your not so busy, maybe?”

His sudden boldness caught you off guard.

You and Arthur didn’t know each other well. But you’ve been acquaintances for some time, and have run into each other quite often.

You first met when you had group therapy sessions together from time to time when you both were in Arkham State Hospital.

You also saw him once in awhile at the laundry mat when he picked up him and his mother’s clothes

And now coincidentally enough, you both saw the same physiatrist in the same day. He always was the appointment after yours. It has left huge opportunity’s for small talk. Which you both indulged in any chance you could get.

Most conversations you both shared with each other were rather awkward and short. But there was this strange feeling that made you not mind so much.

You could sit for hours in awkwardness with this man. He never intimidated you. And you felt more yourself in his presence.

But you still didn’t really know anything about him except that he lives and takes care of his mother and lives down the block from you.

“ s-sure..”

you looked up innocently at him. You didn’t think about your answer as it just poured out of you. You felt like you were under a spell Everytime he spoke to you. Especially now.

He gave you a ear to ear grin at your answer which was short stopped when you both noticed there was no pen or paper.

“I have a pen!” You unnecessarily shouted.

You dug through your black crossbody cotton-like purse and pulled out a pen with the banks name printed on the side.

“Here! I uh.. don’t have a piece of paper though...”

he chuckled at your ditziness and took two strides over to you until he was mere inches from you. Taking the pen from you

Your heart skipped. Adrenaline shooting up your spine deliciously.

You didn’t realize how much taller he was, your head only reaching to the mid of his chest.

Your nostrils filled with a sweet smell of cigarettes and a slight scent of .. some sort of mint?

You felt dizzy

“Can I see your hand?”

Without a word you lifted your left hand just enough for him to snatch it and it up bring it up to his chest. He began to write his number on the back of your hand.

You twitched to the sudden pressure he put against the skin with the ball of the pen.

neither of you spoke as he took his time to write. Your eyes instinctively fluttered shut, enjoying the gentle and subtle contact your body hasn’t felt for a very long time.

After finishing he gently let go of your hand. Bringing it back to yourself, you examined his work. Taking in the attempt he had made to try and hide his messy handwriting which failed beautifully.

You looked back up at him, your cheeks beaming red

“See you around, Arthur”

The air was heavy as you turned and walked away down the short hallway as fast as you could , overstimulated by everything that just happened. You needed to be alone outside again so you could breath and make sense of everything.

“See yuh” he let out softly, Barley enough for you to hear before shutting the main door behind you.

Once outside you turned and leaned your back against the old concrete wall, eyes shut and arms against your chest. You took a minute to breath. Once your heart rate slowed down you opened your eyes again and fumbled in your coat pockets again to light a cigarette. You took one long inhale then managed yourself to peel yourself off the wall and continue on with your day.

You were still very much flustered. You could not for the life of you stop thinking about what just transpired.

There was always a weird flirtatious vibe when you and Arthur had some time to converse,

but this was different.

You suddenly had a new feeling towards him that left bursts of butterfly’s go up your body.

You tried to shake it off as you got back on the train to go to your second job.

You were a little late. 10 minutes to be precise.

You walked through the doors of the laundry mat to find your boss, Nyle sitting at the register area looking not so amused

“You’re late, Y/N” he didn’t look up from his paperwork that was laid out on the desk

“I know I’m so sorry, I just..” You couldn’t lie. “I uh, my therapy app-“

“You think I need a fucking reason? You show up and do the fucking job. You only do three and a half god damn hours. If you can’t do something that fucking simple, you’re fired”

Tears sprung in your eyes at his words. You never got used to Nyle yelling at you. He was an old miserable man that was never happy no matter how well you preformed. Every little mistake was taken seriously.

“Y-you’re firing me?”

“Oh give me a break. You’re gonna cry now? You act like this the first time something like this has happened. You’re either late or you never do what I ask”

“I’ve only been late a small handful of times since I’ve worked here over a year ago! And I do what you ask of me all the time! It’s never good enough for you because your expectations don’t make any sense!”

Your breath caught in your throat and your body started to tremble. You shook as you felt heat rise all throughout yourself.

“Get out”

You turned and flung the doors open to leave, tears streaming down your face. You held on to yourself tightly as your turned into a dark ally and let yourself drop against the brick walls.

Audible cries left you and you didn’t care who was around to hear.

You took in your surroundings and didn’t see anybody. Piles of trash filled the ally and around yourself. You looked up but the cities buildings towered over blocking the sky.

You closed your eyes, your head raised against the brick. You muted your sobs so you could listen.

You heard a couple’s argument around the corner of the other side of the ally, sirens in the distance, more screaming that seemed even father away, and groups of laughing and clattering coming from a pub next to the ally side you just entered.

You started to silently laugh to yourself. Looking down at your cigarette, twisting and turning it between each finger. Your legs were half bent displayed out in front of you.

You stared at the amber of the cigarette while still listening to the cities commotion.

Without much thought you slowly turned the cigarette so the amber floated just centimeters from the back of your right hand. You slowly pressed it against your skin listening to the sizzle as it bubbled your delicate skin. You didn’t twitch or move to the sudden pain it Illuminated.

Instead you managed to display a small genuine smile.

The smell of burn skin hit your nostrils. You pushed harder until the cigarette was out completely, letting it fall from your hand.

Closing your eyes again you started singing softly to yourself.

( quick AN: Let’s stay together - Al Green)

Whatever you want to do

Is all right with me

Cause you make me feel so brand new

And I want to spend my life with you

You were talking about yourself

The familiar imaginary music beaming in your head. Your head stayed up against the cold brick, a sinful smile stretched ear to ear. Your arms laid stretched out to either side of your body Your voice cracking as you sung:

Oh baby

Let’s, let’s stay together

Lovin you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, or happy or sad

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ripperwinchester · 6 years

Text

When I’m With You

Part: 1

Summary: Damon has had his eyes on you for awhile now and you've had feelings for him since you can remember. The only problem is you wont admit it, until he shows up at your door at 1:00 am.

Pairing: Damon X Reader

Warnings: angst

Words: 1194

A/N: So this is part one, If this goes well I will be more then happy to do part 2 which is after Damon arrives on your front door step.This is my first time ever writing so I’m sure there are plenty of mistakes but constructive criticism is welcome:)xoxo

Being at the Salvatore boarding house was nothing new to you considering you were there almost everyday. However, lately you'd been there much more often in the past weeks from the invite of Damon.

You didn't mind considering you had a crush on the older brother. You had liked him from the very first moment you met. He always made smug comments about what you were wearing, how you looked that day and things he claimed he wanted to do to you if he ever got the chance; but you shrugged it off, not putting too much thought into it.

For once, you had actually been at the boarding house for Stefan, rather than the malicious older brother you had grown so fond of. Most of the time had been spent trying to think of a plan to get some sort of curse off of Elena.

After hours of looking things up on the computer and rummaging through piles of old books you came up with nothing.

You looked at Stefan in exhaustion with his response being “Go home and get some sleep Y/N we’ve been at it for hours, everything will still be here tomorrow.” He sounded exhausted.

“I know you Stefan Salvatore, as soon as I leave your going to stick your head right back in these books until you can’t see straight.” You said in response.

Moments later he was shoving you out of the room, “I don’t really know why I even tried to convince him otherwise, he’s always thinking about everyone but himself.” You said to yourself as you trailed down the stairs to go grab your things and leave.

Just reaching the bottom step you felt a slight wind pass you and an arm snake around your waist. You jumped at the sudden placement and turned around. To no surprise, it was Damon with his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Leaving without saying goodbye baby girl ?” He commented, with his hand moving lower on your waist.

“That’s kind of the plan.” You spoke with a stupid smile you couldn’t wipe off your face while trying to drag his hand from your lower back.

“Don’t be so cruel to me Y/N.” He said with a sad puppy dog face while moving in closer to you.

It was truly insane how he could make your heart flutter just by simply touching you or standing next to you. It made you feel nervous every time, which he gladly took notice of as your cheeks flushed a bright shade of red.

“So now you’re blushing for me huh?” Damon teased.

You decide to just let that comment slide while you continue your pace to your bag. You could feel his stare going up and down your body as you bent down to collect your things.

After you collected all of your things and had finally made your way to the door you knew it had been to easy. For the one second you had turned your head to check to see where he had went, he was standing right in front of you and for that matter, in front of the door.

“Are you upset with me, did I do something wrong?” He questioned.

“Of course not, why would I be?” You spoke while raising an eyebrow.

“You keep avoiding me at every chance you get and you’re even here with Stefan instead of me to work on this damn curse.”

You knew he had a point to what he was saying, it was true. You were avoiding him as much as possible to try and dig your feelings for him into a grave they couldn’t get out of.

“I’m sorry Damon I didn’t mean to, it’s just-” You stopped.

“It’s just what!” He exclaimed. “Oh i know, you’re in love with Stefan aren’t you?!” He said with the most angered look on his face.

“Damon I’m not, you know that.”

“Do I Y/N?” A tear turning up in the corner of his eye.

You’d never seen Damon act like this, he’d always been so smug and cocky but now, he seemed broken but even more impassioned with anger.

“The same god damn thing happened with Katherine and now you, its like I can never get it right!” He yelled.

“Damon please” You uttered under your breath as tears festered in your eyes.

He stayed with his back turned to you, he wouldn’t face you at this point. You couldn't take it any longer, as you took a step closer to him he turned at you with vamp speed and pinned you on the wall with one hand above your head and the other placed around your neck, gripping tightly.

“You need to get out of here Y/N and you need to do it now.” He said, veins appeared and started to pulse underneath his eyes while fangs ripped from the front of his mouth. He dropped you to the floor and turned his back to you.

You had never felt more broken in your whole life then this very moment, as soon as he had released the tight grip around your neck you could feel the flushed red hand prints that you knew would leave bruises. You sobbed running through the front door trying to catch your breath, at the end of the driveway all you could hear was the sound of things breaking.

Damon could hear your sobs from inside while shattering everything in sight. He had glass embedded into his hands from everything he had just destroyed. As the veins from underneath his eyes faded and his fangs retracted he had realized what he just did, collapsing onto the rugged floor.

Soon after Stefan came down the stairs to see what had happened, worried that you had been injured. Stefan now looking at the sight of his brother on his knees blood dripping from his hands as tears gathered in his eyes.

“What did you do Damon, Y/N isn’t hurt is she?” Stefan asked concerned.

“I would never hurt her Stefan..I love her.” Damon yelled.

It was past midnight when you made it to your house. You had finally put on your favorite pajamas and were settling down into to bed, doing anything you could to try and forget what had just happened.

You felt as if you should be scared out of your mind but truly you weren't. Maybe it had something to do with you spending a majority of your time with non-living beings? You had seen more peoples neck snap than you could count, but it was more than that.

Finally deciding to close your eyes and stray into sleep you heard a knock on your door. You forced yourself to find a light switch, you got up and fumbled down the steps to the front door. You fiddled trying to unlock the door you finally managed to push it open. Looking up from the door knob you couldn’t believe your eyes, you rubbed them to make sure you were seeing things correctly. Damon was standing at your front door.

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon x reader #damon #damon salvatore smut #damon salvatore fanfiction #stefan salvatore #stefan salvatore smut #stefan salvatore x reader #damon salvatore imagine #ian somerhalder #paul wesley #dean winchester #sam winchester #vampire #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader

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bangtanfancamp · 5 years

Text

S.U.G.A

-yoongi x reader

-10k pieces of fluff

-your flaky best friend forgets you,yet again, leaving you to spend the day with the oddest boy you’ve ever met. But maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

College had been the best experience so far. After growing up so sheltered and in such a small town, this new world of experiences was such an exhilarating adventure. There were so many people, so many new stories. You loved it.

You had never been in the center of things like this before. Always observed but never joined in. But you felt alive here. One of your favorite things you’d found so far was the theater department. People there had so much life, so much wild exuberance and this abundance of passion- it was infectious. Every second you were there you felt yourself coming alive, and you were beyond enamored with it.

It was also how you’d met one of your best friends here, Taehyung. Goofy, handsome, extraordinary Kim Taehyung. Every day he’d be a different character- different hairstyles, hair colors, piercings, clothes. He was constantly reinventing himself. You never knew what to expect, but the thing that never changed was his gigantic heart and his contagious laughter.

Taehyung made everything bright and impossibly joyful. He was hilarious and could turn the mood of an entire group when he walked into a room. He was kind to everyone and loyal to a fault to the people he loved, especially his best friend Jimin. He was incredibly talented in so many ways. You were constantly in awe of him. To be honest, you were battling a massive crush on him that was quickly going nowhere, but you couldn’t help it. He was … him. He was so effortlessly himself and absolutely wonderful. He was Taehyung…But, truth be told, in spite of all these wonderful things, that boy was flaky as heck.

Which is exactly how you wound up here- standing on the threshold of his house for the past fifteen minutes with no answer. The two of you were supposed to rehearse a scene for one of your classes. It had been Taehyung’s idea for you to come over to his house in the first place. But 15 minutes, 5 texts and 3 calls later, he was nowhere to be found while you froze your legs off in the chilly spring air. You were not dressed for this… this outfit had been chosen for aesthetics, not practicality.

Finally, something began to buzz in your pocket. You snatched out your phone to be greeted with the contact photo he’d been so proud of- his handsome face smashed behind glass like he was trapped in your phone. Normally, it made you smile, but right now the best you could muster was snorting in annoyance as you answered the call, bringing it to your ear without bothering to say hello. You didn’t really have to. Taehyung started in immediately with-

“OH MY GOSH, ______, I am SO SORRY!!! I totally, completely forgot we had plans today! I am so sorry. I’m the worst!! the absolute worst! Do you hate me? I’d hate me. I’m so sorry,____. Ugh. I met for breakfast with Jimin and Mina and inspiration struck and well, we’re in the middle of dying Jimin’s hair.”

Huh. That was a new one. You certainly hadn’t gotten that excuse from anyone before.

“I’m so sorry,_____. I’ll make it up to you! I will. I promise I will. You know I’m good for it. Food later? On me? We can get your favorite- chipotle? Extra chips and everything.”

“And guac?” You added softly after a moment’s hesitation.

“YES! Oh my god YES! She still loves me guys!” He yelled back to the room.

“Yes! You can have all the guac in the world. You can have an entire swimming pool full of avocados if you forgive me!”

You rolled your eyes at him. Why did he have to be so cute all the time. How were you supposed to stay mad at that?

“Calm down,” you laughed. “You’re so Stupid. But what do I do now? While you’re still busy dying jimin’s hair…?”

“Silver! We’re dying it silver. It’s gonna look so good, ____, my piece de resistance. And maybe once he looks like a Greek god, he’ll finally have the nerve to ask that girl from economics out so we can STOP HEARING ABOUT IT EVERY- ow! Hey! that hurt! Show some respect. I hold your good looks in my hands!!” Tae shouted. Jimin must have smacked him for his comment. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Tae,” you interrupted, attempting to grab his attention. “Tae!”

“Sorry, love. That heathen almost bruised me. What is it?”

A soft blush illuminated your cheeks at his casual endearment. You made a mental note to process the glory of his lips calling you “love” at another time- you know, when it wasn’t his fault that you were freezing your extremities off.

“I live across campus, Tae. I biked all the way over here to see you, and I really am in no mood or that kind of shape to just turn around and go back already. Plus, I’m freezing. It’s like the second coming of Jack Frost out here. I thought it was supposed to be warming up.”

“You’re totally right. The jacket I had to throw on completely ruined my look this morning. Tragic rockstar chic will have to wait for better weather,” he lamented. “Hey, why don’t you just crash at my place until I get back there? I don’t think any of my roommates are home. There’s free tv and you know where all the good snacks are. There’s a key in the mailbox.”

“Your mailbox? Isn’t that incredibly unsafe?” you scrutinized.

“Someone’s always losing one so we stuffed an extra in there. I will not be dragged out of bed at 2am to let someone and their hookup in when I have an audition the next day just because they can’t be bothered to keep up with their keys in the throes of passion,” he said disgustedly. Clearly this hypothetical had actually happened. Probably pretty recently gauging the fleeting irritation in his usually chipper tone. “Anyway, I’ll be home in two hours- tops! Promise! In the meantime, my home is your home.”

“Fine. But if you’re not here in two hours, you owe me ice cream after chipotle, and I intend to collect, good sir.”

“MUAH!” Tae blew kisses at you through the phone. “Of course, princess! Muah! love you! You’re the best!”

“Yes, I am,” you sassed, attempting to cover the spike in your heartbeat. “Now go, before you fry jimin’s hair off. He won’t know what to do with himself if there’s nothing to run his fingers through.”

“Yah! Could that happen?” Jimin’s clear voice piped up in the background. “You said this was foolproof!”

“It is! Don’t worry! I got this. I’m basically a pro” Tae hushed him. “___, bye my love! Don’t burn anything down cuz you’re mad at me.”

“No promises,” you smiled into the phone as Tae rushed to quip back before you ended the call with a click. “Well all right then, this isn’t weird at all.”

You fumbled around the mailbox until you found the key they’d taped on the inside. You debated whether you should bring the massive stack of mail in it inside with you. Clearly no one had checked it in a while but wasn’t it a crime to tamper with someone else’s mail? Did this count? Whatever. It needed to be done, and you knew Tae certainly wasn’t gonna do it so you gathered up the armful and let yourself inside.

This felt so strange, walking into someone else’s home. You’d been here before for parties and to watch movies- epic marathons of whatever Tae was currently immersing himself in or terrible foreign films you had to dissect and critique for class- and for Tae’s award show watch parties (the oscars were his film critic super bowl), but this was different. This was another animal entirely. Being in the silence of someone else’s home when they weren’t there felt vaguely like trespassing even though you had permission to be there. Tae was alright with it, but you weren’t sure if you were.

You dropped your massive canvas bag by the front door and made your way to the kitchen. He was right- at least you knew where the good food was. You’d been responsible for helping refill enough snack bowls at Tae’s parties.

Tae split the massive house with four other guys, but you’d only met a couple of them. Everyone’s schedule was so all over the place that you’d only met Namjoon and Jungkook- the first double majoring in philosophy and business so you hardly ever saw him but he seemed cool, and the latter was busy giving Jimin a run for his money in the dance department. The other two you had yet to meet.

Helping yourself to a bag of barbecue potato chips and a cold can of root beer, you made your way toward the living room when you suddenly realized how stupidly wrong Tae had been- You weren’t alone at all. There was a boy on the couch. An incredibly cute boy at that.

He was fully dressed in an over the top black and white outfit. Sleeves cut off the too long shirt, black shorts, striped socks and black high tops. He had on way too much chunky jewelry and a backwards black and white snapback. Hardly the sort of things someone wore to bum around in at home. He had a thick shock of maroon hair, and it looked like- was he wearing eyeliner? Yes…yes, he was. A thick band of it too. He was stretched across the sofa, eye closed, with a chunky set of headphones over his ears, and you could hear the bass in the music from here. That must be why he hadn’t heard you banging on the door half the morning.

You froze in the doorway, unsure of what to do with yourself. No one was supposed to be here. This was weird enough when you thought you were alone. Now this poor guy was gonna think someone had broken into his house, and he wouldn’t be entirely wrong. “God dang it, Taehyung. How do you always get me into crap like this when you’re not even here?” You groaned under your breath, about to turn around and slip out as quietly as you’d come in, when your company finally noticed you.

“Um, hello?” A low voice croaked out. It wasn’t as deep as Taehyung’s, but it had a certain kind of authority to it that made you still immediately.

“Oh…. h-hi there,” you waved meekly.

“Are you- did Namjoon- are you a guest of his?” The boy queried, squinting his inscrutable eyes at you and pushing one ear of his headphones back to hear your answer. God, he was even cuter than you’d thought.

“What? No, i’m…oh! You mean??? No! Dear god, no, I’m not one of Namjoon’s booty calls.” You balked.

He seemed to realize that he’d alarmed you and immediately sat up. “Hey, it’s okay if you were. We’re all adults here. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He puts his hands out, palms toward you- God they were pretty hands though- like he was trying not to startle an animal. You probably did look pretty jumpy at this point. What was in the water at this place that all the boys looked so unreal?

“There’s just… not usually pretty girls just wandering around the house in the middle of the day when I think I’m here alone. Just… trying to figure it out.” He explained.

“Oh,” you sighed. “That’s fair. I’m sorry there’s a…uh, stranger … in your house. I’m a friend of Taehyung’s. We were supposed to rehearse for a project today, and he totally forgot and bailed on me. I live over in the Hillman dorm so he said I could crash inside until he got here. I’m sorry. He said no one was home.”

Quietly, he nodded, taking your explanation in.

“I-I can go,” you began to drift backwards. “It’s not that big a deal. I can wait for Tae somewhere else.”

“Hey. No, it’s okay. Hillman’s clear across campus. That’s too far if you’re trying to get a hold of him. You can stay. On one condition.”

Quirking your eyebrow, you stilled at this. “Okayyy….what is it?

“You have to share those chips with me.” Simple enough. He leaned forward, elbows to knees, to whisper the next part conspiratorially,

“And you can’t tell anyone I let you steal one of my sodas and survive. It’ll ruin my credibility around here.” For the first time, he smiled. And boy, what a smile. The intensity of his demeanor dissolved instantly, replaced by this sweet, innocent smile that warmed his entire face. Something about it clutched at your chest in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Oh God, I stole your soda?” You groaned. “I’m really battin a thousand today, huh?”

Sighing, you trudged toward the couch as he pulled his feet back to make room for you. You flopped down on the far end of it and kicked your head back to look at the ceiling. “I’m really sorry about that…?” You rolled your neck over to look at him, voice lilting up at the end in a question.

“Yoongi,” he smirked.

“______,” you huffed back, annoyed with yourself for how this entire day had gone so far. You extended your hand toward his. “Nice to officially meet you.”

He hesitated, only for a second, his feline features sizing you up. Nobody had ever looked at you with this kind of scrutiny before. You couldn’t quite describe it. He wasn’t objectifying you. Honestly, it looked like he was just trying to figure you out. Like you might be the only person who knew the answer to a puzzle he’d been trying to solve for decades, and he’d gotten bored waiting for you to show up. You didn’t know what to do with that.

Slowly, he took your hand in his to shake it back. His hands were larger than you expected, strong with intricate veins running across the back of his palm. They were impossibly warm. You wondered what you’d gotten yourself in to.

“Likewise. I’m guessing I’m the last one to meet you?” He asked.

“Not quite.There’s still one other roommate I don’t think I’ve met yet. Tae told me his name. I think it was….is his name José..?”

“Hoseok.” Yoongi grunted, rolling his eyes absurdly far back in his head. “And no, you must not have. Trust me. You’d remember him.”

“Do you guys not get along? Sensing some tension here.” You also noticed Yoongi hadn’t seemed to let go of your hand yet. You cleared your throat, only to be met with a questioning look. You darted your eyes to where your hands were still joined as yoongi’s eyebrows shot up to hide beneath his shaggy bangs. He dropped your hand immediately like it was cursed. Geeze, He didn’t have to throw it like that. His contact had been kind of…nice.

“Sorry.. on a major sleep deficit over here. Must have spaced out.” He buried a hand in the hair at the nape of his neck .You wondered in passing if his hair felt soft.

“S’fine. So, what’s the deal with hoseok? What’s the hostility there?”

“There’s not. He’s my best friend. He just drives me nuts sometimes. He’s also the reason I’ve been up since 5am today.” He shook his head disgustedly.

“Good grief, why?” You were intrigued.

He pulled his headphones down to settle around his neck and straightened the backwards cap he had on.

“Isn’t that awful? I was having such a good night’s sleep too…Hobi is in the dance department. He has this assignment to create a visual project with students from another complimentary major so he pulled me and Namjoon in on it. Something about learning how to network…”

“I thought Joonie was a philosophy major?” your brow crinkled in confusion.

“He is. But little known fact- he’s also one of the best rappers on campus.”

You felt your eyes go wide before you could stop them. “Seriously?! I mean, I guess he’s got the voice for it.”

“Does the name RM mean anything to you?l

“Half the girls in my dorm want to throw their panties at him. They talk about him all the time- they never shut up about him actually. But I’ve never made it to one of his shows. Why?”

Yoongi’s eye sparkled, chuckling to himself. “That’s Namjoon.”

“SHUT. UP!” Stunned, you clapped your hand over your mouth. “you’ve GOT to be kidding!”

“No, he is. Scouts honor. So now that you know, are you gonna be one of those girls throwing your panties at him too?” Yoongi’s dark eyes glowed with mischief.

“I’ve known you 20 whole minutes and that’s already the second time you’ve insinuated that I want to be in Joon’s bed. Should I be offended by that?” You pressed your hand to your chest in mock disgrace, a challenge in your eyes.

Laughing, Yoongi ducked his head sheepishly.

“Dang,you’re right, aren’t you? My bad. I guess I’m just kind of used to that sort of traffic around here. But you seem like a nice girl. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Hmm, it’s fine.” You smiled. And it was…You had much bigger concerns- like did Tae ever bring other girls around? You weren’t sure why the thought of that bothered you so much. A boy as flirty and outgoing as him must take girls home all the time, but you couldn’t help the sharp pang of whatever this was that stung your chest. Strangely, you then wondered if yoongi ever did, a thought you quickly brushed aside as your stomach twisted. You didn’t much like that idea either.

“Honestly, I’m just waiting to find out if there’s an explanation for this get up of yours.” You gestured toward his body.

“Hey! This is a look.” His brows crumpled in defiance.

“Oh it’s quite a look all right. Very 2013.” You teased.

He huffed at you and readjusted his hat as he soundlessly mimicked you. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Anyway! Namjoon, hobi and I are all rappers actually. We’ve messed around with some song writing, played a few gigs. They’ve gone pretty well so hobi took this project as an excuse to make a music video for us. Jungkook’s been thinking about switching to the film department so he roped him into being our cameraman.”

“Is that why you were up before God and the sun?”

“Yeah, hobi showed up banging on the door at the butt crack of dawn and brought these God awful outfits. He insisted that we wear them and smeared this ridiculous makeup all over us. Told us to stop complaining- that he always has to wear stage makeup for performances and to stop acting like we were above it,” he gestured annoyed at his face.

“I kinda like it….” you offered softly. You caught him curiously dart his eyes at you. “What? I think it looks good …on you. Makes your eyes look-intense. I certainly wouldn’t mess with you.”

He playfully snarled, baring his teeth at you.

“Well, at least that makes one of us. I think it looks ridiculous. I just don’t know how to take it off. Every time I try to, I just spread it around. Makes it worse”

“I see that,” You giggled. “ I can help you, if you want. After I find out the rest of the story.”

“Deal.” He arched a sinister eyebrow at you.

“So. Where was I ? Oh. 5am call time, ridiculous outfits, stupid makeup. He drags me, Namjoon and jungkook to the middle of a rooftop downtown and then hoseok decides he wants us all to learn this stupid choreography he’s come up with. For him that’s fine, it’s what he does. But I hate it- I can do it, don’t get me wrong - but I hate it. I just wanted to do what I came there for- rap- But he wouldn’t back down, he insisted on it since it was for his grade and his vision, whatever that means.

“So we spent the next 5 hours going over and over it all. I got it down too. At least I thought I did, until we started shooting and hobi became the worst director ever. I finally gave up and told him he could film my scenes tomorrow but I was done for the day. So I bounced. And here we are.” He spread his arms and crashed back against the couch, drawing a laugh from you.

“So hoseok is a dance nazi?” You asked, leaning forward to assess how to get all this makeup off Yoongi.

“Yep… i was too tired to change so I just crashed on the couch, ready to finally get some peace and quiet without him squawking at me every five seconds.” He scrunched his face in annoyance, shaking his head like he was reliving it again. He actually looked pretty adorable when he was frustrated.

“Sounds like you barely made it out alive,” you teased.

“You have no idea. I had to leave my dignity behind as a distraction.”

“Well, let’s see if we can help get you some of it back. I think I have some of those wipe thingies that get makeup off in my bag. Let me grab it.” You hopped off the sofa, sundress swinging around your hips, and bounded toward the door. You returned moments later with your giant canvas tote.

“Dang.. You sure taehyung stood you up? I think you lost him somewhere in that bag. I can hear him crying for help,” Yoongi snickered, shoving a chip in his mouth.

Blushing, you clutched it closer to your body.

“Ha ha. I just never know what I’m gonna need- so I bring everything.”

“I can see that,” he teased.

“And if I didn’t, then you wouldn’t be one step closer to not looking like the joker anymore, so hush will you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yoongi smirked, raising his hands in surrender. It made your pulse quicken for some reason. Taking a calming breath, you sat back down beside him, much closer this time.

“May I ?” You asked, reaching for his hat.

“Sure.” He smiled warmly at you.

You gently moved the cap back and his thick hair flopped forward into his eyes. He attempted to blow his fringe out of his eyes, trying to sit still for you, but with no luck. You gingerly reached out to push his hair back for him and couldn’t help but notice how his chest stilled at your touch.

Gosh, you barely knew this guy. What were you doing? You’d help put on and take off makeup a million times for shows and parties. Why did this feel so different?

“Don’t let this be weird. This is gonna have to come off somehow right? So just um, close your eyes for me okay?”

“You got it, boss.” He mumbled, lashes fluttering shut over his cheeks.

“Do you- are those fake eyelashes Yoongi?” You tried to stifle your laughter.

“Did he -are you serious ? God I don’t know what he was doing. I was half asleep when he did this to me.”

“And foundation?”

“Yeahhhhh, that I know. Again, not my idea.”

“You poor thing,” a giggle spilling from your lips that you tried to pull back. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Just relax for me okay?.”

“This is as relaxed as I get.” He quipped, but you couldn’t help but notice the smile tugging on the ends of his lips.

Lifting his chin with your forefinger and thumb,

You went to work carefully removing the terribly applied lash strip clinging desperately to one eye. His eyeliner had been so thick you hadn’t caught it all this time. His eyelids fluttered with relief after the sticky thing was removed, his face twisting and stretching like he was trying to feel if he was himself again.

Once free of it, you carefully followed the curves of face to help him get the rest of the eye makeup off. It wasn’t until you were this close that you could take in just how beautiful he was. With his eyes closed, you took a moment to really savor his features. They were so delicate but so perfect. The ridge of his jaw was so smooth, his skin beneath the makeup perfectly polished marble.

He noticed your stillness and smiled.

“Everything all right out there?”

Startled out of your day dream, you scrambled back to work. “Of course. Just assessing the damage.”

“Whatever you say,” he smirked. He seemed to be warming up around you. He so was easy to talk to despite his pensive aura. You liked talking to him.

“What’s yours by the way?”

“My what?”

“Your major. What’s your story?”

“Nothing particularly interesting I’m afraid. I’m undeclared right now. Every person I meet here seems so incredibly talented. Even if you just look at the people who live in this house- painters, philosophers, actors, filmmakers, dancers, poets….rappers. I had no idea a person could be so many things. Every time I think I know what I want to pursue, I find out five more options and I’m back to square one.” You dabbed at a particularly stubborn spot along the corner of his eye.

“i guess I’m still trying to find where I fit. Growing up I thought you had to find one thing, stick to it, perfect it and that became your future. Became who you were. But… I don’t think it’s that simple anymore.”

“People are more complex than we give them credit for. They evolve so much over time. It’s hard to ever really know someone.” Yoongi mused.

“What about you?” You asked softly.

“Oh, uh-Music production,” he responds quietly, almost a whisper.

Impressive. That was one of the hardest programs to get into here.

“That’s… dang. You any good?” You nudged his ribs with your elbow. Despite his thin frame, he actually felt quite solid.

“Who knows” he shrugged. “ but I love it.” He mumbled the last part almost as an afterthought. Like he wasn’t sure he wanted to share it. You tucked your feet beneath you as you got comfortable on the couch, increasingly intrigued by the boy before you.

“That’s really cool. But I meant does anybody really know you?” it felt like a strange question, but you were so intrigued by him- you were honestly just trying to figure out if there was anyone he’d let close enough to crack his algorithm.

“people know as much as I let them know.” He said thoughtfully.

“But..doesn’t that get lonely?” You brushed along his cheekbone, noting how quickly the conversation had veered in a heavy direction.

Yoongi was quiet for a beat. Slowly, he exhaled before simply answering “yes.”

Softly, your hands fell away from his face and folded in your lap. Yoongi cleared his throat, but you remained silent. You hadn’t expected him to share something like that with you so easily. What could you possibly say now?

He reached up run his fingers over his face as his eyes fluttered open.

“Are we finished? Am I myself again?”

You nodded gently. “All clear,” a smile ghosting across your lips.

“Ya! Finally!!” He stretched his arms out wide, shaking his head dramatically. “I can breathe again! Aaagh!! I could kiss you.” Yoongi didn’t seem to notice the impact of his words on you, too busy enjoying his freedom.

“comments like that and you’re busy worried about girls wandering out from Namjoon’s bed….” you mumbled to yourself.

“What was that?” He asked, neck twisting over his shoulder to look back at you. You blushed and dropped your eyes.

“Oh! Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” You tried to cover for yourself, how well you didn’t know. He shrugged, unbothered and lifted himself from the couch.

“Hey, i’m gonna change out of the rest of this.” He slipped his thumb beneath one of his chunky gold chains. “Finally got some momentum now that my face is back in order.” His smile was a bit lopsided and it made you want to kiss the corner of it.

“Glad to have inspired you. Maybe I should head out…”

“Why?” He grunted. “You just got here. Sit tight. We can watch a movie.” With that, he left. Off and down the hallway, he disappeared with a click.

Welp, this was an interesting turn of events. You crossed your legs, feet tucked beneath you as you spread the skirt of your dress over them. You felt strangely nervous now, despite his invitation. You barely knew him so why were so glad he had asked you to stay? You took a sip of your soda and glanced around the room, fidgety and restless, eventually pulling out your phone hoping that scrolling through it would distract you from waiting for your unexpected company.

Soon enough, yoongi returned, plopping on the sofa, albeit much closer than he’d been before. You were still wedged against the left arm of it but he’d planted himself mid sofa this time, not on the other end. There was still distance but not enough to calm your pulse. He’d changed into a long black sweater. The sleeves were too long and spilled over his knuckles, while his legs were adorned in fitted black jeans with a rip in the knee that stretched as he shifted to find a comfortable position. You could tell he felt more like himself this way, his demeanor had shifted. It was easier, lighter, more open. It suited him.

“So,” he broke the silence,” what kind of movies do you like to watch? And Please don’t tell me you’re as much of a snob as taehyung.” He turned his face to look at you.

“No,” you laughed. “I’m not. He is a bit hard to please in that department, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea. Last week, jungkook was watching transformers in here and Tae practically gave him an entire dissertation on how much he hated Michael Bay’s cinematography.” Yoongi shook his head, disgruntledly.

“Yeah, that sounds like him. Though transformers is hardly a masterpiece. Is that your kind of film?”

His face scrunched,” I don’t think it’s anyone’s kind of film. That movie is mindless- just bombs, butts and boobs. It’s just something to have on in the background. I’m not invested enough to care that much.”

“So, what do you like then?”

His crooked smile was back. “Ah, ah, you never answered my question,” he tutted at you. “I have seniority here and I asked you first. So spill.” There was a challenge in his eyes, but a whimsy in them too. Like if you answered, correctly he might have a prize for you.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Okay, you’re gonna think this is silly but….” you drew in a breath.

“Ilikemusicals” you blurted out all at once and Yoongi laughed- truly deeply big belly laughed. Shocked at his reaction, you fought back the urge to pop him in the shoulder.

“What’s so bad about that!? Gosh you said it like you were confessing your had leprosy..or herpes. Everybody likes musicals.” He said flippantly.

“Hardly. Nobody in my town growing up liked musicals. The theater kids were weirdos.” You frowned, arms wrapped protectively to your body. eyes suddenly occupying themselves with a particularly fascinating stain on the carpet as you avoided yoongi’s gaze.

“Well, that sucks. But it just means you grew up around narrow minded people. Anyone worth their fine arts credit loves La La Land around here.” He leaned over to bump his elbow to your arm, face dipping to find your eyes. “Now will you look at me again?”

You felt yourself unfurl a little bit as you reached to tuck your hair behind your ear and found that lopsided grin you felt yourself yet again reacting to. “Fine. I accept my punishment.” You attempt to sneer but it comes out far too soft, all the ferocity of a fluffy little herbivore.

“We both know looking at me isn’t a punishment.” His eyes drift sideways at you, a high eyebrow arched as he extends his neck and lifts his chin to display his profile for you, elegant hands tracing the crook of his jawline and the length of his throat. Oh god……was it normal for your pulse to hitch like that? Time to get this back under control.

“Confident boy.” You tipped your head to the side, and Yoongi’s smile grew so wide you could see all of his teeth.

“That I am- when I wanna be, I guess. I can see why Tae likes having you around,_____. You’re a fun girl.” He stated it plainly like it was the most obvious fact in the world. Tae. You were supposed to be waiting for him.You’d gotten so wrapped up in yoongi that you’d stopped watching the clock ages ago. How strange. Tae normally occupied so much of your brain space but right now the only thing on your mind was Yoongi. Shocking how quickly your attention had been usurped by this new boy.

“Thanks. You’re bad not at all, Yoongs. That eyeliner led me astray.”

He snorted with deep throaty chuckle. “Yoongs? Is that what you just called me?”

“What if it is?” You teased. Uh oh, did he not like that?

“Then I take back my previous compliments.”

“Wow. Is that really all it takes to fall out of your good graces?” You feigned offense.

“Apparently yes. Cuz that was god awful. Never call me that again. You really think that was gonna be the winner?” He deadpanned as he looked sideways at you, hand poised on his knee flicking through the TV guide.

“I was just testing it out. I’ve already seen you barefaced, I thought maybe we were close enough for nicknames.” You attempted to shrug nonchalantly.

His feline eyes squinted over at you again. God, he was hard to read when he wanted to be. But then that whisper of a smile was back creeping up the side of his lips and you felt yourself finally exhale.

“Fair enough,” he nodded with a soft laugh. “Just not that one. There are much better names you could be calling me.” He bit his bottom lip playfully, eyebrows wiggling and disappearing behind his scarlet fringe.

“Gross. Hard pass.” You tried to make your face a mask of disinterest, but behind the veil you felt your chest collapsing. This boy. He erupted into bright laughter, almost cackling at you.

“God you’re cute when you’re uncomfortable. I can see right through you.” He reached over to pinch at your cheek. For a few dazed seconds, you let him. You were so caught off guard by his touch you didn’t know if you should stop it. Eventually you wriggled your face away, huffing at his long fingers. Was cute a good thing ? In your experience attractive boys tended to friend zone “cute” girls. It was usually a glorified step above being called their sister. But yoongi didn’t say it like that… you wondered.

“So hotshot, since my ideas out of contention, what’s yours then? What do they call you on stage?” You recrossed your arms beneath your cleavage and stared defiantly at him. His eyes flicked down just for a second before they fell away, tongue peeking out to the edges of his smile.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“You know, what name do you rap under?” Your eyes went a little round, hoping you’d asked that right.

“Ah. It’s kind of.. I don’t know. Say what you will, I guess.” He ruffled the hair at the back of his head. “Suga. I go by Suga.”

A snort flew out of you before you could stop it. “Seriously? And you gave me crap about Yoongs?”

“I know. I know. It’s a long story. But I’m kind of attached to it now.” His smile was soft, like he truly was terribly fond of the moniker.

“I don’t know. You’re gonna have to convince me on that one.” You lifted a quizzical brow at him. His eyes glistened at your challenge and suddenly you didn’t fee quite as in charge anymore.

“It makes for a great intro on my verses when I’m working with the guys.”

“Oh really? Show me.” You weren’t sure where that came from.

“Feisty. Okay.” He reached in his pocket to pull out his phone. He thumbed around looking for something on it until he smirked triumphantly. His intense gaze returned you and his lips snaked into a smile. Why was he looking at you like that? Like he was going to devour you and have fun while he did it.

“I have one condition.”

“Again with the conditions. What is it this time?” This was all a game to him. It made you feel like a rubiks cube- you weren’t if he was trying to solve you or you were trying to solve him- but he was so god dang intriguing that you were willing to play along either way.

With his gaze locked on you, he breathed, “You have to close your eyes.”

“What?” You felt your brows pinch together.

“I’m serious. Close them. You’ll thank me later.” He winked, his grin all teeth.

“Uh huh. Sure… fine.” You pivoted toward him with a bounce, settling into your new position. You tucked your hair behind both ears. “Whatever you’ve got- impress me.” You waved your fingers in the air mystically.

He chuckled. “Calm down, Scarlet witch. Just enjoy.”

In the silence, you heard him shuffle and felt the couch dip. He was right in front of you now. Carefully, you stretched your fingers out only to retract them immediately when they brushed the denim on his shin. “Oof, Sorry.”

“Can’t keep your hands to yourself all ready. I didn’t even start the verse yet.” The smile in his voice was so endearing despite his cocky words. You twisted your face into a mocking smile and stuck your tongue out at him. He could be such a smug little- Wait. Oh… was he gonna? Suddenly, a digital beat started to play from his phone. It was intricate and layered-the bass in it was addictive and rhythmic. The production was impeccable. You wondered if he’d made it.

The couch shifted again and yoongi leaned in toward your ear. You could feel his breath tickling your skin and it made you shiver. After a few seconds of an intro, you heard him inhale to begin and as promised, his verse began with a velvet smooth “Suga”- a breathy whisper that tumbled out of his lips and fell tingling down your spine. Oh god.

He began to rap fluidly over the beat in a mixture of Korean and english, his voice gravelly and deep as he played with melodies and timing. You’d never heard anyone sound like that. He played with the textures of the noises he made, sometimes sounding so aggressive it almost came across as a snarl but other times sounding so smooth and gentle that his throaty voice felt altogether too intimate. He got to a point in the flow of it where the melody was delivered like a spoken word- not quite singing but not quite talking- his voice dipping into an octave that rivaled taehyung’s. It was potent and sticky like dark honey. His voice was delicious .

At one point, he was so close to you that you felt the tip of his nose drag against your cheekbone, his breath ghosting in puffs over your neck between his lyrics. And His voice then- God, it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. The intensity of it, even at a whisper was overwhelming.

Two verses later, you could tell from the waning dynamics in the music that the song was coming to a close. Just before it ended, he held on until the very last beat before whispering a final “Suga” against your skin to close it out, the music dropping out completely. You felt him trying to catch his breath as he pulled back from your ear. You weren’t sure if you were ready to look at him again just yet.

You swallowed thickly, hands crumpling the skirt fabric in your lap. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open to see the tip of yoongi’s nose dangerously close to yours. His smile was positively wicked but there was laughter in his eyes. He was exhilarated to see how you were going to respond to him. There was a dazzling light radiating off of him as he took in your dazed reaction.

“That was… um, wow.” was all you could manage to get out. “Are all your shows like that?”

“Oh absolutely. I just weave through an entire crowd of strangers whispering in their ears for the entire night. Real abstract. Only one person hears me at a time.” He squinted dubiously at you, his smile never wavering.

“I mean you never know, it’s an odd school. Lots of artistic weirdos around here.” You felt the dissonance between your words and your own face. Your eyes were probably soft and dreamy right now- and you could feel your mouth parting open without your permission. You were trying to keep up the witty repartee but your body felt a little like it was short circuiting.

“You’re not wrong. There’s this one weirdo who’s been hanging around my house the whole day. She even ransacked my kitchen and took all the good snacks-But between you and me, she’s kind of adorable. I’d kinda like to see more of her.” His eyes sparkled with a sincerity that caught you off guard.

“Oh? Maybe if she knew why a grumpy boy calls himself Suga, she’d be inclined to stop by more often.” What were you doing? What were you even saying? It was hard to get any oxygen to your brain when he was looking at you like that.

His laugh was soft, his cheeks pinching the edges of his beautiful eyes as he smiled. “I used to love to play basketball in high school.”

“Aren’t you a little um, short for that?” You giggled at the mental picture.

“Not too short to love it. Jerk.” He scrunched his nose at you in defiance, but his crooked smile never wavered. “I was actually a really good shooter. One of the best in my school. I had just started messing around with music back then and Namjoon was pressing me to come up with a name for myself. Basketball was what I knew best so I thought it should come from there. He made a joke about the position I played, shooting guard, but mumbled it in Korean. The first part of it sounded like Sugar and he gave me crap about how ironic it was that someone as sarcastic as me should be called that. And It just kind of stuck. Over time it dropped to just Suga, and it was stupid but i kind of liked it. It was different from everyone else, that was for sure.” His smile was a little goofy- you liked it. He was proud of his names story even if he acted like he wasn’t.

“So,….Suga. I get it now. I like it.” You looked at him sweetly.

“Yeah?” That playful spark was back.

“Yeah. Suga… suga… Suga…” You tried it out in different ways, letting it tumble out of your mouth honeyed and soft. His bottom lip snagged under his teeth, something a little darker rolling over his eyes.

“Careful, Princess. I’m not beetlejuice.” Oh. You liked it when he called you that. He was moving closer somehow. Not that he had much further to go anyway, you already felt like you were practically in his lap at this point. Your reflection was clear in his dark eyes until his gaze flicked down to your lips.

“You were when I found you on the couch.” You countered, feeling unsteady. His laugh in response was so sweet. His teeth lit up his grin as he shook his head at you.

“Touché. But I told you- not my choice.” Something in his gaze shifted, his voice getting deeper, more coarse, like he didn’t want to say the next words too loud.

“Hey…. I know.. we just met but, you- I like this. A lot. You really should come around more often. But… for me this time.” He was smiling, but there was no part of him that made this feel like a joke. There was a solidness to his words, a pleasant gravity to his expression. He was looking at you like he wanted to give you the whole world. His eyes were on your lips again, and you wet them as best you could considering how dry your mouth had suddenly become. This wasn’t a game anymore.

“And… why should I do that?” The question came out more breathy than you planned.

“So we can do this again,” and just like that Yoongi’s head dipped down, his lips pressed soft as a cloud against yours. You felt yourself gasp at his boldness, before completely dissolving into the sweetness of his kiss. It was slow and gentle, like he was in no hurry at all. His breath was sweet, his lips languid as he took his time with you. He kept his hands to himself, as if that was too much to do all at once and he could only handle so much of you. The kiss became still, crawling to a smooth stop, his lips tender as you both caught your breath with each other.

When he pulled away, his smile was impossibly wide, his nose nuzzling against yours as if he needed to find a way to prolong touching you even with the kiss ended. If this was another game of his, he was incredibly proud of the play he’d just made. He searched your doe eyes with wonder,

waiting for your counter move. The excitement was killing him and he loved it.

Something like this had never happened to you before. You’d shared awkward first kisses before with boys you’d grown up with. Clunky, nervous things exchanged on your front porch or the front seat of their car when it seemed like the logical thing to do at the end of the night that swiftly went nowhere. They’d been strange and inorganic and nothing had ever come of them.

But this- this was entirely different. Yoongi’s kiss was magnificent. Falling into his touch felt like watching a flower unfurl it’s petals in the brightness of the sun- warm and fantastic and the way it was always supposed to be. You felt your fingertips reach up to brush over where his lips had been. A crackle of electricity tingled as you replayed it in your mind. How was any of this possible? How did this happen?

“Yoongi….”

“Yes, Princess?”’ he licked his lips, happily awaiting your response.

“I barely know you. I- I don’t do this.” Your wide eyes searched his.

“That’s okay. No rush. I can tell.” He smirked.

“What ? How? Oh- god, was it bad?” A panicked line creased between your brows.

“Oh god no. That was fantastic.” He brushed his nose against yours. Laughter spilling from his lips. “Ten out of ten first kiss. I’m ready to find out how the second one goes whenever you are.” He winked. “No, I can tell because you have been the cutest shade of pink ever since I let you go. You look like a strawberry.”

Embarrassed, You quickly reached up to cover the blush on your cheeks that had given you away as Yoongi’s kind laughter floated around you.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t hide it. Its sweet.” He softly pulled your hands back and leaned in to plant a kiss to the apple of each of your glowing cheeks. He playfully pretended to bite one of them. “You are so cute. Not gonna lie, this is the first time I’ve ever been glad Tae can’t be on time to save his life. Something good finally came out of it.”

You felt your cheeks get warmer. You actually felt a tingle of heat brush across them under Yoongi’s impossibly happy eyes. “Hey yoongi?”

“Yeah, ___?” He answered, his smile a riot of stars and sunlight.

“I think I’m ready for that second kiss now.” Your breathing was a tangled mess but you managed to get your sentence out before Yoongi’s broad hands cradled your cheeks and pulled you in again.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

This kiss was brighter than the first. Yoongi held back just a little less, thumbs caressing your face, fingers slipping into your hair. You swore you could feel him smiling as he kissed you, his teeth coming to nip at your bottom lip every now and then. It caused a flurry of giggles to spill out of you that only encouraged him.

“God, you have the best laugh.” Yoongi whispered into your mouth. You felt the weight of him begin to press against your chest as you leaned back against the arm of the couch. He slipped between you and the couch to lay beside you, his hand caught on your waist, thumb brushing into your stomach. His warm tongue found its way into your mouth, causing a soft sigh to melt out of you. Your arms came to wrap around his neck, hands buried in his luscious crimson hair. You both became so tangled with each other that you didn’t hear the lock on the front door until-

“_____ ? and yoongi?” It was Jimin’s crystal clear voice floating through the house. And that meant- Taehyung was finally home.

“Shut up, you’re kidding!” Came Tae’s booming baritone. Startled, you sat bolt upright on the couch, pulling away from Yoongi. You snatched a pillow into your lap as you fussed with your disheveled hair. Yoongi couldn’t stop laughing as Tae rounded the corner, wide eyed and a bit stunned.

“What is this? How did this happen?” He pressed his palm flat to his chest in shock

“You left her alone all day! Someone had to keep her company.” Yoongi’s eyes never left you. His gaze was a little wild then, triumphant as he took in the state of you- beautiful and rattled. Once again, he found your wide eyed innocence enchantingly adorable. He looked a mess-his hair was sticking up in crazy directions, his lips puffy from where you tugged on them- and he didn’t mind one bit. He loved it.

“Tae, why didn’t you text me that you were on your way?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, a fact that only made Yoongi giggle.

“I did! But you didn’t respond. I thought you were mad at me so I tried to get here sooner. But it seems I could have taken my time.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “I can leave again, let you get back to what I interrupted.” He offered teasingly.

“Would you? We were having the best time before you ruined it.” Yoongi muttered, completely straight faced up at Taehyung. You were mortified as Taehyung cane behind you to scoop you up into a hug. He placed a smacking kiss into the top of your hair.

“Stop it. I don’t want to hear a single word about this, Tae.” You buried your face in your hands.

“Why? I love this! You two are so cute together! I honestly have no idea why I didn’t set you guys up sooner!” He rolled his eyes at himself.

“What?” You twisted to look up at him.

“Oh, I’ve wanted to find you a nice guy for ages. I thought about trying to play matchmaker with you and Jimin but then he got stuck on that girl in economics. Who he WILL ASK OUT NOW THAT WE SPENT AN ENTIRE DAY MAKING HIM LOOK LIKE A DISNEY PRINCE!!!” Taehyung shouted toward the kitchen.

“Ya! I will ask her out when I’m good and ready! Back off!!!” Jimin shot back. He sounded like his mouth was full. He was probably depleting the stash of Oreo cookies.

“You better! I’ll kill you myself if you let my hard work go to waste!… anyway. Yeah, I could tell you had a little thing for me. But I’m married to my career right now. I needed to find you a sweet boy to take care of you. But maybe I was looking at this wrong. Perhaps, you’re the sunshine our Oscar the Grouch needs around here.” Taehyung prattled off, reaching a long arm to muss with Yoongi’s wild hair. Your eyes went wide at his casual profession about the feelings you’d had for him. He knew? That brat knew? God, how embarrassing.

“Hey!” Yoongi swatted at him, pulling you back from Tae’s embrace. “Are you crazy? You can’t just say things like that, you idiot. You’re gonna hurt her feelings.” Yoongi scowled at his friend as he held you protectively.

“Woah, woah woah, wait- you knew too?” You pressed yourself away from Yoongi to look in his eyes, trying to decide how you felt about all of this.

“Not explicitly. No. I’d heard that Tae had a really cute friend he brought around all the time and it seemed like he was too clueless to do anything about it. I didn’t know he was enough of an idiot to friend zone you.” He defended.

“Then why did you keep asking me about Namjoon?” Your brows furrowed.

“ Because at first, I genuinely had no clue who were. Once I figured it out, i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Plus, I kept trying to figure out why Tae was being such an idiot by not pursuing you.” He answered honestly.

“Hey! I’m literally right here.” Taehyung pouted.

“And that’s where you’ll stay if you ever realize how stupid you were for missing out on her.” Yoongi stated matter of factly.

“I am aware of what a catch she is, Yoongi. She is my best friend. Which is why I’ll dump all your recording equipment in the bathtub if you ever hurt her.” Taehyung crossed his arms, sticking his tongue out petulantly at Yoongi.

At some point, Jimin had silently entered the room, cheeks sure enough stuffed full with cookies as he watched the drama unfold. As promised, his hair really was a delicately coiffed silver now. The icy locks were side parted and swept off his face, making him look impossibly regal even with his mouth full of sweets. Perhaps Taehyung was in the wrong line of work altogether.

“Don’t you dare. Do you have any idea how much that equipment cost?” Yoongi’s scowl was a bit terrifying.

“It isn’t worth near as much as my best friend’s heart.” Taehyung insisted nobly.

“I thought I was your best friend?” Jimin piped up from across the room, his cheeks a bit pouty at the realization that he may have been one upped.

“And will be again once you grow a pair and talk to Sandy.” Taehyung quipped.

“Sasha.” Jimin deepened his pout.

“Whatever. Maybe I’ll remember once ive actually met her and she’s finally your girlfriend instead of just figment that you whine about all the time. Chop, chop, kid. You’ll graduate before you even take her to coffee at this point. Besides, I can have two best friends, Jiminie. There are no rules against it. But anyway! The point is that ____ and Yoongi are a great match and I ship it even if I didn’t start it.” He lifted his chin proudly.

“Thank you? I think?” You were still a bit baffled st the way this whole day had panned out. You glanced over at Yoongi again who at some point had taken your hand in his, busily brushing circles over your knuckles. His touch was grounding, and strangely pleasant on this bizarre day.

“Of course, darling. You have my blessing. Both of you.” Tae kissed you both on the forehead, an action that had Yoongi swinging at him again which only made Tae hug him tighter against his will. “You know you love it! We’ll spend even more time around each other now that you’re dating the best person I know.”

“You know me.” Jimin muttered defeatedly, popping an entire cookie in his mouth.

“It’s not the same thing, Jiminie! You know this. Insecurity is a very unattractive trait. Stella won’t give you the time of day if you keep this up,you know.” Taehyung said exasperatedly.

“Sasha. Her name is Sasha. And she likes me just fine. She said she likes sweet quiet guys.” Jimin smiled bashfully to himself. It was absolutely adorable.

“Well hey! We can work with that! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Taehyung practically leapt off the couch to congratulate his friend. “Come on, lets go regroup then. Figure out where to take it from here. ______, we still on for chipotle and rehearsal later?” He called back over his shoulder as he herded Jimin back to the kitchen, snatching the pack of cookies away from him, claiming they’d only make Jimin’s baby face more puffy.

“Of course! 4 o clock sharp this time?” You answered.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling.” Tae beamed back.

“Oh, but don’t worry about ice cream. Yoongi’s gonna take me to get that.” You smiled over at the boy beside you, who seemed pleasantly surprised at your words.

“Oh am I now? That’s news to me.” Yoongi’s eyes sparkled with mischief again.

“Absolutely. You owe me for saving you from that clown makeup. And for letting you survive after embarrassing me like that.” You smacked his shoulder, and he pretended to crumple into the sofa.

“God dang, woman. That upper body strength. Chill out.” He laughed warmly at you. “Fine. I’ll comply. One one condition.”

“This again?” You arched an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, this again.” He mimicked, a little too accurately. It had you biting down on your lip to keep from completely cutting him off with your laughter.

“I will take you on a proper ice cream date today- unlimited toppings, whipped cream, extra cherries, the whole nine yards- if you promise to to come to my show this Friday night.” He was poised on the couch like a cat ready to pounce, eyes meticulous as they studied your reaction.

“I don’t know if you’re prepared for how hard I go on ice cream toppings, sir. Your whole chunk of the rent is gone -pfft- that fast.” You poked him in the chest lightly.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take….as long as you leave the show with me and not Namjoon.” His eyebrows wiggled suggestively and you smacked him again.

“OH MY GOSH! Are you serious?” You fell into a fit of giggles as a bright, smiling Yoongi pulled you close again.

“Yeah, Im absolutely serious. I’m playing from behind. Everyone else here knows you better.” The edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled so wide they almost disappeared. He kissed the tip of your nose, leaning his forehead against yours. “Hey. Honestly though, I have a really good feeling about this.” He whispered, that sincerity flashing brilliant in his eyes again.

“You know what’s crazy?”

“What?”

“ I do too.”

This time it was you to initiate the kiss. It was little, just something quick and sweet, but Yoongi loved it.

“Aaaaawwww! SO CUTE! I could die!” Taehyung shouted from around the corner.

“Oh my god, not again.” You pulled away from Yoongi’s embrace.

“Wanna go get that ice cream now?” Yoongi stood, offering his hand to you.

“Abso-freaking-lutely.” Your eyes were wide with annoyance at Taehyung as Yoongi pulled you up from the sofa and you both headed toward the door.

“Don’t do anything too crazy, Kids!” Taehyung shouted.

“I’m going to kill you!” Yoongi deadpanned.

“But not until after you bring ____ back for rehearsal. 4 o clock sharp! Remember!” Tae tutted at him.

Smiling warmly at the two boys, you hopped over to Tae to kiss him on the cheek. “Yes, mom. We’ll be back in little while.”

“You better. I don’t know how I feel about you liking another boy better than me.I’m not used to having to share you.” He muttered, but there was a smile in his eyes.

“Hey, you’re my best friend. That’s not changing. You know that.” You bumped his hip with yours.

“I know. ____, I meant what I said about the bathtub. If he gets too handsy or becomes a total bore and ruins all your fun, just let me know and I’ve got you. Splash, splash- just like that, okay? Gotta take care of my best girl.” He whispered, winking at you.

“I know, Tae. Thank you. I’ll see you later, okay?” You squeezed his arm lovingly as he nodded kindly at you before you bounced back to Yoongi’s side, slipping your fingers between his. His entire face lit up at the contact.

“What was that about?” Yoongi asked as you both made your way through the front door.

“Nothing. Just getting Tae’s proper blessing.” You beamed at him.

“Well in that case,” Yoongi bent down and picked you up. You squealed wildly as he carried you down the sidewalk to his car, joggers and pedestrians giving you both the most unbearable side eye as they passed by.

“Yoongi! Put me down!” You giggled.

“On one condition….”

Oh dating him was going to be fun.

~fin~

#min yoongi #bangtanfancampfics #bts writing #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfics #min yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #bts kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #rapper!yoongi

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tabletoptrinketsbyjj · 6 years

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Glossary and Common Terms

This is a collection of terms and lingo that are frequently used in D&D and other tabletop games, along with terms written by me specifically for use in this blog. Some words used in this blog are purposely written as “catch all” ideas (See Mage) or “Common Terms” (See Knowledgeable PC’s) that can easily be adapted to any game system. These terms only describe how they are used in the context of this blog and if there are any inconsistencies between here and your game system, your player's handbook or other official guide is correct.

Glossary:

-Ability Check: Abilities are the base statistics for a creature such as Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, Charisma or whatever your game system uses. Ability checks are simple, untrained rolled checks that use the modifiers of the base statistics. Examples of these checks include, trying to brute force a door down, puzzle out a riddle, or juggle. For more trained skills such as pickpocketing, lying or crafting, see Skill Checks.

-Advantage / Disadvantage: Advantage reflects the positive circumstances surrounding a roll, while disadvantage reflects the opposite. For example, a character would have disadvantage on attack rolls against an invisible target, while the invisible creature would have advantage on attacks against a target who can't see to defend themselves. When a character makes a roll and has either advantage or disadvantage, the player can roll the dice a second time. Use the higher of the two results if you have advantage, and use the lower roll if you have disadvantage.

For example, in a d20 system if you have disadvantage and roll a 17 and a 5, you use the 5. If you instead have advantage and roll those numbers, you use the 17. A character who benefits from multiple sources of advantage or disadvantages still only rolls twice, it does not stack. A character who has both advantage and disadvantage simply rolls normally, they cancel each other out.

This is taken straight from 5th edition D&D because I like its simplicity and is also an easy way of maintaining system neutrality since every system can roll twice and take the higher or lower result. However this may be considered unbalance in some d20 systems and could take forever to roll twice in dice pool systems. The DM is free to substitute the advantage / disadvantage effects for a +1 or +2 on a d20 roll or one or two additional dice rolled in a dice pool system (Or the opposite for disadvantage). The DM has the final say on what the mechanical bonus or penalty of a trinket has on a player's roll and should grant the player whatever they feel is fair.

-Attunement: Some items require the bearer to wear or have an item in their possession for a certain length of time before the object can be properly used. For clothing and jewellery, this requires the item to be worn the majority of the time, or within a few feet of the character’s person if they are bathing or changing. For other items or weapons, the object must be kept on the bearer's person or within 15 feet of them the majority of the time. Unless otherwise stated in the item’s description, the bearer can remove magical clothing or jewellery for a few minutes or hours without issue. Mechanically this is to prevent multiple PC’s from having access to the item’s power if it’s constantly passed around or from a PC owning a dozen magic rings and switching between them every few minutes. Some objects incur minor negative effects that last for a brief period after the trinket stops being worn. This represents lingering magical energy on the creature's person and allows for a more serious risk vs reward situation when considering using the item. This attunement process isn’t the same as other systems such as D&D 5e and shouldn’t count towards the attuned slots unless the DM rules it so.

-Bearer: A creature who is wearing, carrying or wielding an object. Depending on the item, the creature could be considered bearing it even if it’s packed away in their bag or other belongings. Bearing a pair of spectacles obviously means wearing them on the face over the eyes, but bearing a cursed voodoo doll could mean that it was placed unknowingly in one of the creature’s packs and they may not even be aware of it.

-Cleric: An ordained member of a religious order. Similar to mage, cleric is a catch-all term for any kind of man or woman of a religious order. Feel free to change the term to whatever honorific there is for ecclesiastic members in your campaign. Based on your game system, some clerics may also be mages in that they’re able to cast spells, however the term cleric as it’s used in this blog does not automatically mean spellcasting abilities.

-Creature: Taken straight out of D&D and Magic the Gathering lingo, a creature is a living or otherwise active or animated being, that is not an object. Creatures can be the PC’s themselves, animals, undead zombies, ghosts, golems, animated furniture, elementals, ghosts, intelligent plants, swarms of creatures that are treated as a single unit, sentient magic items etc. Basically anything that might have real statistics. A regular granite statue is not a creature, but the same statue under a magical effect that allows it to move, guard an area, think, speak, attack or cast spells, changes it into a creature.

-Critical Failure: For any rolled check in a d20 system, a roll of a 1 on a d20 without any modifiers is typically considered an automatic failure at whatever the character was trying to do. This often has an added penalty of harm to the character or others around them, destroying or damaging nearby objects or being unable to try again at the task for a length of time. In dice pool systems a critical failure can be measured as a number of 1’s below the result needed to accomplish the task, or as a number of 1’s greater than half the dice rolled or more 1's than successes. Whenever a trinket refers to a “natural 1” it refers to this kind of critical failure. This vary from game systems and are also called Critical Fumbles, Critical Misses or Critical Glitches. See also Natural 1.

-Critical Success: For any rolled check in a d20 system, a roll of a 20 on a d20 without any modifiers is typically considered an automatic success at whatever the character was trying to do, often with an added bonus of doing it perfectly or in record time. In dice pool systems a critical success can be measured as a number of success above what was needed to accomplish the task, or as a number of successes greater than half the dice rolled. Whenever a trinket refers to a “natural 20” it refers to this kind of critical success. See also Natural 20.

-D20 system: A d20 system is one in which a d20 is rolled to determine skill checks, saves, attacks, etc and a static modifying is added to the roll to determine the final result. This is compared to a dice pool system where multiple dice ares rolled and the number of success tallied up.

-Dice Pool System: Compared to a D20 system where only one die is rolled and a modifying number is then added to determine the result, in a dice pool system the player rolls a number of dice (Typically d6s or d10s) and counts up a number of successes. On a d10 for example a roll of a 7, 8 or 9 can count as one success while a roll of 10 is worth two successes.

-Difficulty Check : This is the standard or target that a PC wants to roll higher than to succeed at an action. For example if a PC wants to climb up a 30 foot, rough stone wall that has some handholds, the difficulty check (Or DC) would be fairly high like a 20 to 25 (In a d20 system) baring other factors such as weather. The player would roll a relevant skill check (Such as athletics, climb or acrobatics) and their total result is compared to the DC. Getting a higher result is considered a success while a lower result may mean the character takes a long time to succeed or is unable to maintain their grip and falls down potentially being hurt from the fall. DC's can be modified by mitigating circumstances, so if there was a rope hanging down the wall the DC might lower to 15-20 and if the wall was wet with rain the DC might go up to 25-30.

-DM: The Dungeon Master, Game Master (GM), Storyteller or other real live human that is running the show. This person creates and enforces the rules and is in direct control of everything that is not a Player Character.

-Hedge Mage: A mage with only minor powers, spells or tricks. More of a local wise man, self taught magic user, oracle, witch of minor power, medicine man or shaman who gives advice, provides weak spells or brews potions for a small village or community. Hedge mages are usually NPC's that are able to use magic but typically have less magical power than a level 1 PC.

-Initiative: At the start of combat, each creature will make an initiative check in order to determine the order of who goes first, second, third etc in that combat's turn order. This is typically a rolled check.

-Intelligent Creature: An intelligent creature is able to think and act using knowledge, experience, understanding, common sense and insight. This can range from very dumb humans, normally intelligent goblins to supernaturally intelligent animals such as unicorns, mage's familiars or pegasi. In some cases exceptionally well trained mundane animals such as ravens, parrots or working dogs could be considered intelligent, but they would be considered Albert Einstein's of their species. A good rule of thumb is an intelligent creature will be capable of understanding (If not always speaking) in at least one language. ---Note: I have sometimes messed up and put “sentient creature” when I meant intelligent creature. I'll be fixing these mistakes as I find them along with other slip ups that made it through editing.

-Intimidate Check: This is an example of a skill check that comes up many times in the trinket tables, especially among the minor magic items and some minor weapon enchantments. Intimidate can be used in place of the friendlier diplomacy or persuasion to coerce another creature into helping you in one way or another. Creatures influenced in this way typically don't appreciate being threatened and may go to the authorities after the PC leaves the immediate area, may refuse to do business with them again or hire thugs to beat the PC up. In combat intimidation can be used (Depending on your game system) to demoralize or frighten an enemy causing them to take on a negative condition (Such as Shaken from Pathfinder), or to surrender, panic or flee. If your game does not have an intimidate system in place for a combat setting, an easy rule of thumb is to just have the player roll their intimidate skill and to judge for yourself how fearful the target might be. Typically a target has to be able to see, hear and understand the creature who is trying to intimidate them. A moderate roll might mean that the target suffers disadvantage on attack rolls as his hands are shaking or that he spends his next turn running away out of fear and regrouping. A higher roll (especially against an intelligent creature with a sense of self preservation) means that the target is legitimately afraid for their life and flees the combat encounter. As a DM remember that the target did not actually die and may ambush the PC's later when they least expect it or go in search of reinforcements leading to an even tougher encounter.

-Mage: This is a creature capable of casting spells. In the purpose of making these items as system neutral as possible the term mage is used as a catch-all term for all: wizards, sorcerers, witches, artificers, enchanters, witch doctors, shamans, summoners, psychics, mediums, diviners, warlocks, spellcasting clerics, necromancers etc. For story purposes, sometimes an item will refer to a specific type of magic or mage such as witches, warlocks or necromancers but this is purely for flavor. Feel free to substitute the term “Mage” with whatever type of spellcaster works best in your campaign. I purposely avoided using the term “spellcaster” because it seemed more like a game role like “tank” or “DPS” rather than a mystical title.

-Minor Weapon Enchantment: A weapon enchantment that typically has a rider or condition where it's magic comes into play. These “Better than nothing” enchantments typically modify the damage or grant the weapon a +1 to accuracy and damage rolls if certain conditions are met. In simple D&D terms these are more like +0.5 enchantments compared to standard +1 weapons. These weapons could be have been made by Hedge Mages or apprentice enchanters who are simply not able to make stronger enchantments or the creator wishes to lower the material costs by having a weaker enchantment. ---Note: I am still working on these and since I do not have 100 of them yet that I feel are good enough and edited enough I haven't put out a table of them. I should have a d100 table of them out sometime in 2019 if all goes well and I'll put out a d50 table if it doesn't go well.

-Natural 1: Rolling a 1 on a d20. For further explanation see Critical Failure

-Natural 20: Rolling a 20 on a d20. For further explanation see Critical Success

-PC: A Player Character is a single or small group of creatures who is controlled by a real life human who has complete control of their actions, thoughts and abilities. For the purpose of this blog, the term “Character” and “PC” sometimes blurs.

-Proficient / Proficiency: A PC has a number of skills or tools that they are trained in doing and are represented with their statistics. Fighters are able to wield greatswords and wear plate mail whereas rogues are able to disarm traps and pick locks. A sailor might be able to use a sextant and a doctor might be able to use a set of surgeons tools to perform an operation. In many systems a creature is either proficient or not proficient in certain skills or tools which carry their own mechanical bonuses or penalties. Just like in real life, where pilots are trained to fly planes and mechanics are skilled at fixing cars, there are some areas in roleplaying where your character either knows how to do something or not. Some of the magical items grant proficiency in various specific skills, which grants the user the ability to make use of the item, or gains the mechanical benefits of using that item according to the game system. For example, a barbarian who has never even heard a harp been played before, could use one that has been enchanted to grant him proficiency in it, as if he has been practising his whole life.

-Random Bright Colour: See Random Colour but using a smaller die to rule out the darker colours.

-Random Colour: Fairly self explanatory, there is a random table of colours in the reference tables section and you can roll or just pick a colour to suit the trinket. If you don’t like the colour, roll again or pick whatever works best. This allows you to role the same trinket twice and still get a unique item.

-Round: A round is one turn of combat which general lasts around six seconds and typically allows a creature to move, make one or two swift or free actions and take one major action such as an attacking or casting a spell. In systems that use ticks or track individual seconds of combat, it is up to your DM to determine how long interacting with a trinket or minor magic item takes.

-Rule 0: Rule 0 or Rule Zero simply means that the rules and mechanics listed on the trinkets are only guidelines for your group to follow and that the DM has the final say on exactly how an item works mechanically and how it may interact with other items, spells ability or rules. Everyone (Including the DM) is there to have fun and these tables are meant to provide more character immersion and fun homebrew options for longtime players who know the official printed materials like the back of their hands.

-Saving Throw: These are rolls made to resist negative effects that target your character. Examples include using Reflex or Dexterity to doge out of a fireball’s blast, using Will or Wisdom to resist mental domination or Fortitude or Constitution to shrug off a poison.

-Skill Check: Skills are trained talents a character possess such as: Stealth, Sleight of Hand, Perception, Knowledge, Sense Motive, Perform, Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate or whatever your game system uses. Some trinkets and minor magic items provide bonuses to specific skill checks or examples of how it can be used. It is up to the DM to make sure the skill checks that the trinket refers to matches those that exist in your game system and make alterations as needed so that there isn't confusion down the line when the player goes to use it. See Intimidate Check for a specific example.

-Wielder / Wielding: The bearer of the weapon is holding it in one or more limbs and is capable of using that weapon to attack. A toddler that holds the grip of a greatsword but is not strong enough to lift it up, doesn’t count as wielding it. A stowed away or sheathed weapon doesn’t count as wielded. Certain weapons, such as spiked gauntlets, brass knuckles, hidden boot blades or armour spikes can technically all be considered wielded, as long as the bearer is able to make an attack with the weapon at any time. This creates a distinction between “bearer” and “wielder” for some magical items and weapons. A creature can be bearing a sheathed weapon but not wielding it, but a creature wielding a weapon is also its bearer.

Common Terms: These phrases are a kind of shorthand for ideas and mechanism that span all roleplaying games. The idea of hit points for example is universally recognized in games but can go by many names and the number of points a creature has can vary wildly. These shorthand sentences are written in a system neutral format that can be easily adjusted to work in any game system.

-“Half of the damage dealt by the weapon is considered X damage while the rest is normal for it’s type”: Many of the magical weapon enchantments change half or all of the damage into a different damage type. We’ll use fire for this example. A normal longsword might deal 1d8+3 (Strength) of pure slashing damage on a hit. If the player rolls a 7+3 (Strength) with a fire enchanted Longsword of Embers he would deal a total of 5 slashing damage and 5 fire damage. On an odd numbered roll the enchanted damage is rounded down, meaning a total of 11 damage would be 6 slashing, 5 fire. If the specific damage type listed for the weapon doesn’t exist in your system, feel free to substitute whatever type is the most similar, homebrew in the damage type or roll again choosing a new weapon. This mechanic allows a character to have a nifty magical, weapon that deals elemental damage but doesn't actually increase the total damage dealt. Its beneficial to have in situations when the wielder is fighting enemies that are vulnerable to fire but since the weapon's effects cannot (Typically) be suppressed, detrimental to use against foes resistant to fire. Halving the total damage dealt allows the weapon to be useful from level 1-20 as the elemental damage will grow in proportion with the character's damage output.

-“Knowledgeable PC’s”: Anything after the phrase “Knowledgeable PC's” refers to uncommon information or lore that the average character would not be aware of. The DM should keep this information to himself unless the specific PC is able to succeed on some sort of knowledgeable or lore check to determine if they know anything about the subject. Based on the object the knowledge check could be based on arcane knowledge, history, religion, nature, crafting, engineering, the local area or another relevant skill. In a d20 system, the difficulty check might be in the 15-20 range or a 20-25 for “Extremely Knowledgeable PC's”. If your game doesn’t use knowledge checks the DM can use a d4 or d6 and the character knows the information on a 1 & 2 or just a 1.

-“One hit point damage per character level (Or 10% of maximum health or other equivalent amount)”: While writing many of the magical items I had the choice between reducing the power of the item, putting limited uses on it or factoring in a cost of use. In an effort to make this collection system neutral, I wanted this cost to reflect something that every character had. Not all games have a mana, Chi, Focus, Energy, Faith, spell slot system, or special resource that would give them something to spend or trade in order to use the item. However every game has some sort of health system and it makes using the item much more serious if activating the trinket drains the user's health. The damage from items like this cannot normally be prevented and if it is, the item will not function. In simple D&D, one hit point per level is quite a bit for any character to lose in order to activate an item, even one with a useful power. In Shadowrun, Scion or other games with a health box system, DM can rule that 10% is one lethal box or one or more stun boxes as they feel is fair.

-“Perceptive PC’s”: This usually means that there is a hidden compartment, secrete catch or very small set or markings somewhere on the object and only creatures who carefully inspect the object, are naturally observant or who get lucky will find it. See Knowledgeable PC’s but with perception (Listen, spot, search and investigation checks mostly) rather than knowledge checks.

-“Roll a Random X”: These trinkets call for you to visit a secondary table (Or set of tables) and roll on that one to determine the unique finishing touches to the item. Alternatively the DM can make their own decision or pick from the list rather than rolling. For trinkets that refer to Weapons, Godly Domains or Musical Instruments, it is because I have written the description in a way that it can be applied to anything from that table. I recommend this especially for the “Roll A Random Weapon” entries in the Unique Weapons Tables as it gives DM's a set of unique descriptions to slap onto weapons that they want to be important or plot related without being forced to make them a +1 or mechanically better than standard weapons.

-“The item must have been in the bearer’s possession for at least X time before the bearer benefits from the item, and continues to effect the bearer for X time after leaving the bearer's possession”: Some items have the downside of needing to be on a character’s person for a length of time before the bearer can use the item’s power. This stops the items from being passed like a hot potato from PC to PC or from a single user to have a number of similar items (Such as rings) and to switch between them every few minutes depending on the situation. Some items that have negative effects will continue to affect the bear even after they’ve been separated. This makes the item’s use a serious matter and the downsides of the item is not solved as easily as taking the item off and dropping it on the ground. See also Attunment.

-“Treated as a +1 weapon”: A +1 weapon has four main aspects: It grants a +1 to attack (To hit) rolls, +1 to damage rolls, the weapon counts as magical for overcoming damage resistance and the weapon is much harder or impossible to break compared to a typical one. In short it has a combination of the first four Masterwork Weapon Bonuses (Precise, Balanced, Spellbound and Impervious) all at once. Many of the Minor Weapon Enchantments are treated as a +1 weapon as long as certain conditions are met.

-“Whenever the wielder rolls a natural 1 on a hit with this weapon, they must roll an additional 1d4. If the roll is another natural 1 the weapon shatters, dealing half of what the attack would have been to the target as well as the wielder”: This essentially means that the weapon is fragile or unstable in some way and is more prone to breaking than an average weapon. In a d20 system this means it has about a 1.25% chance of breaking every time it is used. When it does break, roll damage as per normal and apply it to the target, but half of that total damage is also dealt to the wielder. In game terms an assassin might wield a black ceramic knife due to it being lightweight, sharp and its ability to bypass metal detectors or metal detecting magic. However a ceramic dagger is of course much more fragile than steel and when used against a knight in plate mail it may shatter on a bad hit. It still damages the target but also tears up the wielder’s hand. This penalty is in addition to any negative might occur to rolling a Natural 1.

-“Which imparts its wielder with the direction of the nearest X”: A version of this phrase is found on almost every magical compass. The specific feeling of the compass is up to the wording of the item or the DM. The bearer could feel a tugging or pulling in a certain direction, hear a ringing or pinging coming from the direction, see an directional arrow that is visible only to them or other such sensation. The compass only provides the direction and does not impart, how far away the target is or what it might look like. An Intelligent creatures could triangulate distance with land surveying equipment or a sextant and by using the item from two different places, but that requires training and tools. For example a compass could provide the bearer with the nearest tavern by causing the bearer to hear bawdy drinking sounds coming from the north. The tavern could be one mile north or 1000 miles north on the other side of an active volcano. The bearer only knows that it is the closest tavern and that it is north.

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percywinchester27 · 6 years

Text

Unconventional Roommates (Part-2)

Word count: 2.3K

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: None

Series Summary: Now that his brother is at Stanford, for the first time in his life, Dean does something for himself. He takes a step towards chasing his own dreams and moves away from Lawrence to start college, which is both thrilling and scary at the same time. Only catch, in this unknown town, he is stuck with the MOST infuriating female on the planet- the roommate from hell!

A/N: I really hope you guys like this part <3

Beta read by the amazing @deanssweetheart23. Thank you for putting up with me, love <3

Dean woke up late. Of frigging course.

He had set an alarm for 7, but somehow today had to be the lucky day when it didn't go off. Dean took the quickest shower of his life, threw on the first clothes his hands landed on in the unsorted pile of boxes, grabbed a bag and made his way out of the apartment, not paying a second glance to the door opposite to his.

In the hindsight, it was probably all her fault. Even thinking about her made Dean clench his teeth, and what bothered him more was that he didn't know why he was so bothered. For crying out loud, he didn't even know her name.

As he put his car on the road, another thought occured to him, but Dean didn't want to accept that girl could have been even a little helpful to him after all. But the truth was, if it hadn't been for her, he'd have spent the whole night worrying about today, and the University. However, the legendary conversation with her had driven everything out of his mind, and he'd spent what little time he had been awake, rerunning the whole thing in his head and regretting over the comebacks he could have used instead.

But that also meant he had had a better sleep. Childishly, Dean was satisfied again that he could, at least, blame her for oversleeping. Then, he was annoyed about how stupid the whole deal was.

His first thought as he parked his baby was how daunting and intimidating the campus was. It was probably bigger than the part of Lawrence he'd grown up in, but that also meant it was going to be hard to navigate his way around. Late as he was, he quickly got out of the car and hurried to the student's council office, asking his way around. The kid working the front desk was about Sam's age. He gave Dean a once over, then asked him to wait in the seating area.

Dean, however, couldn't sit still. He could see that his feet tapping continuously on the linoleum was annoying the counter guy, but that made him more nervous if anything. Everything about the place, the laughing youngsters, the fat books, the counter guy with his nerd glasses was making Dean feel out of place. This wasn't him. What if he didn't belong? What if this was all a big stupid mistake?

"Dean Winchester?"

Dean looked up to see a guy with deep blue eyes and black hair smiling down on him.

"That's me." Dean stood up.

"My name is Castiel Novak," he said, offering his hand. "You can call me Cas, and I'm your student counselor."

Dean shook his hand, feeling little better. The guy was, at least, his age if not a little older.

"C'mon. This way," Cas led him.

They walked along the main building as Cas checked up on the papers he was carrying. "So, this says you're from Lawrence, Kansas and you're enrolled in Mechanical Engineering with a major in Automobiles Design."

"Yep!"

"That's cool, man." Cas commended. "And directly into the second year?"

"Yeah," Dean said, not knowing what else to say.

"This says," Cas read on. "That you were a teaching assistant in the Mech. Department at the community college there for three years? Without a degree?"

Dean shrugged. "It wasn't official."

Truth was, it was more money. On the off chance that Sam hadn't scored that scholarship, there had to be some extra money, right? So, Dean had worked part time at the Automobile Lab in the community college for that. It was no big deal. He knew quite a lot about how cars worked from working at Rufus'. Cas' admiration was making him a little uncomfortable though.

"So, that's what got you directly into the second year, I see," Cas concluded. "This is good stuff."

Dean nodded again, choosing to stay quiet.

"Alright," Cas pointed to a building on the left. "That is the auditorium. Beyond that the library. What we just passed was the visitor's centre. I'm sure you figured that out for yourself." Cas smiled genially and Dean immediately took a liking to him.

"Are you an engineering student, too?" Dean asked. Life would be easier knowing that there was at least one person you knew.

Cas, however, laughed. "Hardly. I'm a journalism major. I'm the assistant editor at the college newspaper, too." Then something seemed to hit him. "Tell you what? You should totally join the newspaper. Anyway, you have to take an additional activity that isn't part of your course work for the extra credits. We could use someone new."

"Oh, hell no!" Dean put his hands up. The idea that he was any good with words was downright laughable. "I can't write to save my life."

"But that's the thing," Cas pursued. "You don't have to write. How good are you with a camera?"

"Not bad," Dean said cautiously. Sam had bought him a good camera as a gift for his birthday this year. He'd fumbled around with it, mostly happy with his pictures. But what did he know of critical photography?

"You should drop some of them at the newspaper office. Maybe it's something you'll find useful," he hinted. "As it is I'm guessing you have a lot to catch up with since you're a week late and joining in the advance class."

The rest of the campus tour was pretty interesting. Cas was meticulous about showing him every building. Giving him the inside scoop on the faculty and the general gossip about students. Dean was relieved to know that students his age weren't actually uncommon. That in fact, most of his class might be older than he was. Cas also told him that Mech. department had a couple of great kids he could definitely hang out with.

"Just think over the photography thing," Cas reminded him as he dropped Dean off in front of the Automobile Workshop. "Go find Professor Barnes in there. She's good. And if you need anything at all, you have my number. Just give me call. We all hang out in the quadrangle after classes, drop by if you want."

"I'll remember that," Dean nodded gratefully.

Professor Pamela Barnes was younger than Dean had expected, also way more attractive, but one look at her and it was clear that she was a no nonsense woman. She ran Dean through his schedule, going through his transcripts and work experience, but unlike Cas, her face showed no change in expression. There was no saying what she thought about him.

All she said was that she expected Dean to know his subjects because he had already been through them.

All in all, when Dean stepped out of the building and finally fell into his car, he decided that the day hadn't been a failure. Even though he still wasn't sure how well he'd fit in, he was sure that he, at least, wanted to try. Stepping into that workshop had made all the difference for him. One look around and he was home. He knew that stuff, and unlike Lawrence, here, he was allowed to make mistakes, because he was learning. Just like everyone else and that feeling was… thrilling.

Smiling to himself, he put the car in reverse, only to halt as his phone rang.

He smiled once more at the name flashing on the screen before pressing the answer button.

"Hey there, Sammy."

"Hey there, college boy!"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Stop rolling your eyes," Sam said. "I know you are."

Dean laughed. It was so good to hear his brother's voice.

"How's it going?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged, then remembered that Sam couldn't see it. "It’s good. Intimidating, but it looks interesting so far."

"You're a freaking genius, Dean," Sam urged. "One day you're going to see that, too. Maybe this place will help with that."

"We'll see."

Sam hesitated. "There's something else I wanted to ask you about."

"Shoot." Why did he sound so nervous? Was he okay?

"Well…" Sam tarried. "It's actually a girl."

"I'll be damned," Dean grinned. "You got yourself a girlfriend!"

"Hardly," Sam huffed.

"What's her name?"

"Jessica," Sam said, then added. "She's beautiful."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course she is. You even talk to her yet?"

Silence.

"Figured," Dean muttered. "Go, talk to her, you dumbass! Paralyzing yourself into a zombie isn't very attractive."

"Shut up!"

"You know it's true. Just go talk to her. Ask her out on a date or something."

"Alright." Dean could hear Sam's smile on the other end. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." The call ended and Dean pocketed the phone with a smile on his face.

By the time Dean reached the apartment, and opened the door, all his thoughts were dedicated to unpacking those boxes and finally settling in with some hint of permanency, but all those thoughts went out the moment he entered the living room. His roommate was passed out on the sofa. The TV was running a WWE match in the background while the girl was lying on her stomach, one hand under her head, the falling down to the floor over the edge of the sofa. A brown beanie covered her head today but the knitted sweater from yesterday was back. She had the most peaceful expression on her face. Innocent and child-like. A smile that was somehow enticing.

Then the wrestler on the TV slammed another wrestler onto the floor with a loud bang and she sat up straight, eyes wide, scanning one side then other quickly till they found him and then narrowed quickly.

"Why were you staring at me sleeping, you creep?"

"I just got in!" Dean defended.

"That's exactly what a creep would say!"

He could actually feel his blood starting to boil. "Lady, I don't know who the fuck pisses in your cheerios every morning, but it ain't me, so stop making me into something that I'm not. Jesus!"

She looked down under the pretense of adjusting her beanie and muttered from the corner of her mouth, so quietly that he barely heard it. "That's what a creep would say."

"Okay, enough of this crap," he said, walking close to her so he was almost in her face. "What's your problem with me?" Asking her upfront would, at least, get him some answers, because the prospect of facing the roommate from hell throughout the whole weekend was honestly disturbing.

"Problem? Problem?" She asked, standing up to face him. Despite being smaller than him in size and height, she demanded attention just by her stature. "It's you, Romeo! Didn't your mother teach you that invading women's personal space is creepy?"

Dean went stoned faced. There was nothing more to say to her.

He turned around and walked back to his room, shutting the door behind him. But in the split second, just before he turned, he saw the anger from her eyes slip, replaced by surprise. She'd expected him to come up with a sassier retort, but the complete lack of response had caught her off guard.

Dean couldn't care less. She hadn't exactly hit where it hurt, because he knew he wasn't being creepy, and that she was being weird and unreasonable. But there was some truth to her last sentence. His mother hadn't been around to teach him much about life.

Sam did it sometimes. Unknowingly, he'd say something that gave away how little attachment he felt towards their mom, and Dean would snap at him. She had been a good woman and she'd loved Sam. Of course, he barely even remembered her, being only six months old when she'd passed away, but Dean did. And then he wondered which of the two situations was better, remembering some of it, or not remembering anything at all.

But this girl wasn't Sam, she didn't know what had happened, so Dean couldn't even snap at her. Sure he was mad at her for being so difficult, but he couldn't logically hold her to what she'd said. She simply didn't know better.

Lying in the half-made bed with boxes all around, Dean stared at the ceiling for a long time as Metallica blasted through the earphones. He missed home. He missed his life from two years ago when Sam was around, when he'd known what to expect out of his life the next day. But Sam was in Stanford now living his life, and as hard as the change was for him, this was his life now.

The chords of Nothing else matters flowed through him and Dean closed his eyes

I never opened myself this way Life is ours, we live it our way All these words I don't just say And nothing else matters…

The light was shining too brightly through the window, and his first thought was remembering why there were no curtains. Groggily, he opened his eyes, staring out of the window to the beautiful view of the sea. This is good, he reassured himself.

He reached for his watch that was lying on the floor and squinted at it. 10:35.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed, sitting up in the bed. Then he remembered that it was a Saturday, he didn't have any classes today.

Running a hand over his face, Dean made his way to the bathroom. As his hand reached out to close the door, his fingers touched a paper. Curious, he looked around to see a single piece of parchment taped to the door. Written on it in a pointy handwriting was a single word.

"SORRY."

Astonished, Dean looked at the red door on the opposite side, it was locked. She wasn't home.

He smiled to himself, thinking maybe, just maybe life here wouldn't be that bad.

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

A/N 2: Please do consider reblogging my work and leaving feedback. Reblogging helps spread it, and also helps against the “best posts first” option tumblr has. The more the notes, the less chance of it getting buried beneath others posts. And the comments are what keep me going. I love you guys and I’ll be in forever grateful <3

Here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

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#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader fluff #reader x dean winchester #dean x reader AU #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester reader insert #spn fanfiction #Ana writes Dean #Ana writes UR #anawrites #ur part 2 #q

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blublirb · 6 years

Text

Need to Know Basis Pt. 3 | Peter Parker

A/N: The final part! I really like where this ended up, but damn, this took time to write. Thank you for all your support! I hope you stay around for some more stuff I want to write for this account. Maybe I should open requests? Would you guys be interested? Let me know!

Word count: exactly 2.8k (I worked hard to make it on the dot)

“Dude, you can’t be serious.”

“Try me.”

“Ned. Sweetie. No.”

“I stand firmly in my decision.” You dragged your hand down your face, sighing dramatically. M.J. sensed your distress from the kitchen where she was making the popcorn, but, alas, she did nothing to help you. You jumped over the back of the couch, sitting on the arm as you looked down on Ned.

“Jurassic Park 3 is not the best movie!” You practically yelled. Peter emerged from the bathroom, fresh from the shower, staring quizzically at the two of you as he entered the living room.

“Hold, on, what? Ned, you gotta be joking,” he said, eyes wide. He leaned over the back of the couch, hands clasped together as he stared at his best friend. You looked at Peter like he was your savior.

“Thank you!” You exclaimed, moving your hand through your wet hair to part it on the other side of your face. You had claimed the shower first, heading straight for it with your bag in tow the second you entered Peter and May’s apartment, and your hair was still another hour away from being even remotely dry. M.J. had taken a shower next, then Ned, then, finally, Peter.

“Jurassic 2 is definitely the best,” Peter stated, earning a snort from M.J. as she walked into the living room, popcorn in hand. You were shell shocked.

“What?” Your hands flew up to grab your hair in frustration.

“Now, hear me out,” Peter pleaded, spreading his hands wide. He stood straight, gauging your reaction. He had a fairly strong feeling you would strangle him at any moment. “Jurassic 2 focuses on Malcolm and his daughter, mainly, and has a pretty badass plot.” You made a noise of protest. “I’m not finished,” Peter held a finger up to you, much like Liz had earlier that day, causing you to stop in your tracks. M.J. laughed, taking a seat in between you and Ned on the couch, slouching in her seat.

“Malcolm makes a pretty awesome lead, and they move to a completely different island where the dinosaurs were first created.”

“We know the plot, Parker,” you deadpanned. You had really expected more from the boy.

“But it’s such an awesome movie!” Peter defended, clearly giving up an intellectual tactic on the movie. “When they bring the T-Rex to the mainland and the guy gets eaten and don’t look at me like that!” He nearly pouted when he saw you and Ned both giving him a look, basically pitying him.

“And watch how his argument crumbles,” M.J. says, starting to dig into the popcorn. You reach up to pat Peter’s head. You look to Ned, grinning smugly, narrowly missing Peter blush.

“It’s okay, little one,” you tease. “We all know the original is the best.” Ned groans, pulling at his eyes.

“No its not!”

“It’s a classic, Leeds!” You yell, ignoring M.J. nearly snorting. You give her a suspicious look. “What’s so funny, huh?”

She snickers. “It’s just.. You’re all so petty.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ned crosses his arms. “Which one do you think is the best, then?” M.J. spreads her arms, as if about to state the obvious.

“Jurassic World, duh.” Chaos ensued. Ned started arguing dramatically with M.J. You grunted, spreading your arms out with a little too much force, whacking Peter in the face. He flinched a moment later, almost as if it was a second thought. He covered his eye, looking at you in horror. You grimaced.

“Oops?” The front door opened, revealing May with a bunch of groceries.

“Why is everyone yelling?” She asked, obviously struggling with the bags. Peter immediately jogged over to help her, Ned trailing close behind. You turned around and waved.

“Hey, May. We were just, uh, arguing over which Jurassic Park movie is the best. We’re about to start a marathon.”

“Ooh, fun. The original was always my favorite.” She handed over several bags to split between the boys. Peter groaned.

“Yes! Take that, losers!” You lifted your arms in triumph and let yourself fall backwards onto the couch, your head landing on M.J.’s thigh.

“Um, ow,” she said, monotone. You rolled your eyes, smiling and sitting up, using your elbows to prop you up. May dusted her hands off as she re-entered the living room. She blew a strand of hair out of her face, resting her hands on her hips.

“I’m thinking about trying to make a loaded potato casserole tonight. Thoughts?” Peter came back in, sitting on the ground by your end of the couch, head resting against the armrest your legs lay upon. He quirked a brow.

“It’s 9 o’clock. Isn’t it a little late for dinner?” You lightly smacked his shoulder.

“Don’t ruin her spirit.” You looked up to May. “I think that sounds great.”

And it would’ve been great if May hadn’t forgotten to put the potatoes in. Majority settled for ordering pizza instead, boxes resting between the coffee table and the floor and the couch. May had gone to bed after the first movie, trusting M.J. to keep a watch on things.

“I’m responsible!” Peter protested. “You barely know Michelle!”

May gave a smug smirk. “Yes, but Michelle has barely said a word since she’s arrived. All you’ve done is shout.”

“Not true!” May gave Peter a knowing look, sending him into a grumble of arguments as he slouched against the back of the couch. The rest of the marathon spent in a comfortable silence, the sound of pizza boxes being moved between persons and popcorn crunches being the only audible sound besides the movies. After Jurassic World ended, you all planned sleeping arrangements. Ned had been too tired to move to Peter’s room, and M.J. had no intention of sharing the couch. Since there was really only room for two people in the living room, you and Peter shared his bedroom. Peter had insisted you take the bottom bunk, so that’s where you lay as Peter cleaned off the top bunk for him to sleep.

It had been about one hour since, and you had yet to fall asleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the elevator. You saw your friends grow farther away as you fell, holding Ned as tight as you could. You felt your stomach drop, the glass scrape your palms, even the hairs rise on your neck. You couldn’t risk sleeping when you knew you would only relive that day’s events. You wouldn’t dare wake anyone up when they slept peacefully.

You checked if Ned had any problems, but when you walked into the living room, you saw him resting soundlessly on the floor, perfectly fine. You couldn’t help but wonder how he could sleep so well when he had nearly died earlier that day. When you got back to your room, Peter was awake, legs hanging over the edge of the top bunk. He rubbed at his eyes, yawning.

“Y/N?” He asked. You tried to look tired, like you just woke up, but you didn’t have the energy. Ironic. You settled for running a hand through your hair. “What are you doing?”

You debated whether or not to lie. Should you tell him you wanted to know if Ned had been plagued with flashbacks, too, or simply say you couldn’t sleep?

“You’re thinking about the incident today, aren’t you?” How did he know? You tried to get words out, but you didn’t know what to say. You made your way to the bottom bunk, finding it easier to form words when peter wasn’t staring into your soul.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I wanted to know if Ned was having trouble sleeping, too.” You said, staring at the bottom of the bunk above you. There was silence for a moment, then you heard fumbling above you. The feet retreated onto the bed.

“Do.. Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked, his voice quiet. You closed your eyes tight.

“I don’t know. I just.. Nothing makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“What caused the explosion? Why did Spider-Man, of all people, save us? Why was he in D.C.? Why wasn’t he in Queens? Did he know something was going to happen?” You heard nothing in reply. Your brows furrowed as you thought the events over in your head. “It doesn’t make sense.” Your palms dug into your eyes, visions of the elevator replaying in your mind. “I almost died, Peter.”

Before you knew it, tears were pooling in your eyes. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but you found it hard when the reality of the situation hit you like a truck. Peter must have heard you, because in an instant he was sitting on the edge of your bed. He hesitantly held his arms up, surprised when you sat up and hugged him. He sat there for a moment, frozen, before he snapped out of it, cradling you in his arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he mumbled. Wait. You lifted yourself out of his arms, staring at seemingly nothing. Why did that sound familiar? “Y/N?” Peter asked. You looked him in the eye.

“Say that again.”

“Say what again?” Peter dropped his arms, head tilted. You gestured your hands in a circle, signaling him to repeat his sentence.

“What you just said-- say that again.” You looked at him with such intensity it scared him a little.

“You’re okay?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking at the wall. Where had you heard that before? You wiped away a stray tear, looking to Peter again.

“Say it like you did before.”

“I don’t understand--”

“Just,” you paused, closing your eyes and rubbing your face. You gently reached for his hands. “Just do it, Parker. I need to hear it.” He sighed. You opened your eyes, studying his features. Things were clicking together, but you didn’t understand what it meant. His gaze softened. He tipped his head slightly forward, as if the words he were about to say were critically important.

“You’re okay,” he said, sincerity and comfort dripping from his words. Realization dawned on your face, and Peter must have noticed. “Are you okay?”

“What do you do at your internship?” You blurted, thoughts racing a mile a second.

“Paperwork.”

“But that’s not true, is it?” You stood up from the bed, looking around the room. You weren’t sure what for yet. You still had to get your thoughts in place. Peter seemed confused for a second, before sitting up straight, wary of your words.

“What do you mean?” Peter stood, scratching his head.

“Why were you so anxious to talk to Ned?” You looked at him dead on, tired of walking circles around the conversation. You needed answers. Peter’s eyes widened, his jaw slackening.

“I… I was going to apologize for missing the Decathlon. Ned was a bit angry and he wouldn’t listen to a word I was saying.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you took a step forward, causing Peter to sit down on the bed again.

“Y/N, I--”

“You’re Spider-Man, aren’t you?” Silence. Everything seemed to stop, Peter staring at you, you staring at Peter. You crossed your arms, silently daring him to deny it. Peter seemed to know he had been defeated. He was at the end of the line. He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Am I really that obvious? How did you know?” He asked. Your gaze lowered, your energy leaving you.

“‘You’re okay.’ You said those exact same words to me earlier today. When you saved my life.” You sat next to Peter, legs folded under you. His gaze stayed on the ground. “Is that why you missed the Decathlon? You were off doing Spider-Man things? Is that why you left the hotel last night? Why you quit band? Why you spend all of your time on your Stark internship?”

He slowly nodded. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, wrapping his body in a hug. You buried your face in his shoulder, feeling him relax. “Thank you.” He let out a breath, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I couldn’t just let you guys die. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I hadn’t gotten there in time.”

“I’m sure Ned would be thankful, too, if he knew.” Peter turned his head towards you.

“Hm? Oh, Ned knows.”

“He does?” Peter nodded, lightly laughing at the memory.

“Yeah. He caught me crawling through my window one night. Didn’t realize he was there.” You looked out the window to the New York streets.

“That makes sense.” You let go of Peter, resting against the wall instead. A thought passed your mind, and you didn’t realize how much it hurt to think about. Still, you grinned a bit. “Dude, Liz is obsessed with you.” Peter furrowed his brow, resting against the wall adjacent to you.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You okay? Shouldn’t that be sending you through the roof?” Peter took a moment to respond.

“Normally, yeah, but… I don’t think I really care about that anymore.” Well what was that supposed to mean?

“What do you mean? You’ve been interested in Liz since forever.” You tucked your legs under the blankets, exhaustion finally catching up to you. You yawned, not quite sure you wanted to reach the end of this conversation. Your hand rested under your cheek, trying to blink the tiredness out of your eyes.

“Well.. I think I’ve been misplacing my feelings.” Peter held a slightly concerned expression, as if trying to work out his feelings.

“Oh?” You replied. You took the time to study Peter’s profile, commiting it all to memory before you dozed off. He looked graceful, even at what must have been around 3 in the morning. You almost couldn’t describe it. His hair, his eyes, even down to the tiny freckles you almost couldn’t see unless you were really paying attention.

“Yeah. I noticed something earlier-- in the elevator.” You hummed in response, closing your eyes. Sleep was right around the corner, and you weren’t fighting it. “You tried to get everyone else out before you.” You sleepily opened your eyes, realizing this conversation changed to be about you. You looked to Peter, who was already staring at you.

“Yeah, I did. I wanted to make sure Liz and Ned and Mr. Harrington and everyone else would be okay before I was.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, and you don’t have to go out risking your life everyday, but here we are. You know, you do that a lot.” you closed your eyes once more.

“Do what?”

“Change the subject.” Peter snorted, and you wished you had the energy to see it.

“I was leading up to that.”

“Then you better get to it before I pass out.” Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I think… I think I like you.” You smiled a little, slightly shaking your head.

“Aw, Petey’s got a lil crush,” you cooed. “He doesn’t even know if it’s real.” Peter gawked.

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I spill my heart out and that’s what I get?” You would’ve rolled your eyes if you weren’t on the brink of falling asleep.

“Oh, shush, you big baby.” You held your arms out. “I’ve liked you long before you even knew my name. I just didn’t realize until yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Peter scoffed playfully.

“Mmm, and you didn’t realize until just now. Now are you gonna hug me or not, Spider-Man?” You teased. Peter rolled his eyes and moved over to sit beside you, taking you into his arms. “I hope you realize full well that I’m expecting a date soon.”

“I know.”

“Preferably next weekend.”

“Got it.” You let go, sliding down the bed to lie down. Peter moved to get up, going to his own bed, when you stopped him. “Actually, do you think you could stay here? I don’t trust myself to sleep without nightmares. I need Spider-Man to fight them off.” You said, only slightly teasing. You opened your eyes a little, having a bit of trouble focusing your sights on Peter. He sighed, a small smile on his lips.

“Of course,” he said, getting under the covers. You closed your eyes for the final time, content with your night. You felt warm lips grace your cheek, a chaste kiss being placed. It was soft and warm, and it felt like an angel made Peter just to give you kisses. You grinned, pulling Peter’s arms around you.

“So, what kind of stuff does Mr. Iron Man have you do at your ‘internship?’”

Peter laughed lightly, gently pulling you closer. “I’m afraid that information’s on a need to know basis.”

You hummed. “Fair enough.”

I can only assume you guys wanted to be tagged for part 3? Let me know if you didn’t and I can take you off of the list :)

tags: @morgannope @laurie-ofmoonlightandstardust @immsmarvel @buckylatte @slythxr @tiarrasmith

#blirb writes #Spider-man #spiderman #spider-man x reader #peter parker x reader #x reader #x reader fic #peter parker #peter parker fic #spider-man fic #spiderman x reader

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torn-and-frayed · 7 years

Text

A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Tragedy Strikes

Word Count: 3148

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Some angst

A/N: Unbeta’d. All mistakes are mine. This part was written for 3 different challenges:

Ana’s PJO Challenge: Quote in bold in the fic (modified a bit)

Karina’s Season’s of Love Challenge Prompt: Frostbite

and Taylor’s Favorite Seasons Gif Challenge

Feedback and Constructive Criticism Always Appreciated

Series Masterlist

“Jensen, you look like absolute crap. You shouldn’t be filming today.” You pressed your lips to his forehead, despite his grumbling. “And you’re really warm. I think you have a fever.” Jensen had been sick for days and getting progressively worse, but he refused to slow down for even just a day to rest. He was driving you crazy.

“Can’t.” He murmured, sounding even more congested than just hours ago when you went to sleep. “If I don’t film it slows production down and throws everything off.” He wasn’t really wrong. This episode was very heavy on your character and Dean. You’d both had to travel over an hour every day to a place north of Vancouver to shoot on location in the snow.

“Then at least drink some coffee and take some medicine.” You sighed, grabbing a bottle of medicine off the shelf. “What’ll it be? Pumpkin spice or peppermint mocha, fancypants?”

“Shut up.” He glared at you, a small smile on his lips and you couldn’t help but break into laughter. “Whatever you’re drinkin’ I guess.”

“So, peppermint.” You pursed your lips and nodded, moving to make him a travel cup. “I’m really glad you’re embracing your inner fancy coffee snob, you know? It’s really endearing. I still really wish you’d stay home today. We could just do my coverage or something. We could figure it out.” You moved to rest your hand on his face and he really was way too warm and pale.

“I’m OK. I Promise.” Jensen smiled although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Come on, Clif is probably already waiting outside with Jared and Misha.” You made sure you had everything, including enough medicine for Jensen in your bag before you left with a heavy sigh, knowing full well he was just making himself worse.

The ride to the location shoot was long enough that it gave Jensen time to rest and he fell asleep with his head on your shoulder about 5 minutes away from your apartment while you kept running your fingers through his hair. Jared and Misha could tell he was sick enough they didn’t even try to fuck with him. “We could’ve figured something out and he could’ve stayed home today.” Jared spoke low from the front seat. “You’re both gonna be out in the snow all day. He’s just gonna get worse.”

“That’s what I said this morning. He’s a jackass he doesn’t listen.” You sighed. “I’m gonna have the doctor take a look at him on set when we get some down time.” You didn’t miss the small smirk and shake of his head from Jared. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Just you, acting like so wifely already.” You shoved your hand over Jensen’s ear, hoping he hadn’t heard that. His other ear was pressed firmly against your shoulder.

“Dude.” You hissed at Jared. “Shut up. We’re not – I’m not ready for that yet.” Your stuttering gave you away and you could feel both Jared’s and Misha’s eyes on you, knowing you were full of shit. The truth was you were more than ready for Jensen to propose to you, but he hadn’t, so obviously he wasn’t ready, and you didn’t want to rush him. What you didn’t know was Jensen had a ring hidden away, but he was scared to ask you to marry him, afraid that you weren’t ready and he’d chase you away.

“We’re here.” Clif broke up your conversation, parking the SUV in the lot with the rest of the crew’s cars. “Now leave Y/N alone, please.”

“Thanks, Clif.” You smiled indignantly back at Jared then turned your attention to Jensen, shaking him gently. “Jens, hey. We’re here.” When all he did was grumble and rub his face further against your shoulder, you decided on a different tactic. You leaned down, pressing your lips gently against his. His eyes fluttered softly until he realized you were kissing him and he pulled back in protest.

“You’re gonna get sick.” He grumbled and you shrugged your shoulders with a smile.

“Then you can take care of me. We share a bed. I’m gonna get sick anyway.” You pecked his lips again and this time he reciprocated, giving in to your very sound logic. “Come on, sicko. Let’s get this done so we can get you home and medicated and tucked into bed where you belong.”

The two of you slid out of the SUV and made your way in the opposite direction of Jared and Misha to film.

It took several hours of filming in frigid, snowy conditions but you were finally able to get Jensen seen the doctor who said he had walking pneumonia. He still refused to go home, though. He insisted he would tough it out for the rest of the day and then see how he felt tomorrow before making any major decisions. You sighed in defeat, deciding to quit arguing when you’d never win.

You both made your way back to the set, trudging through the snow drifts to get there. “It’s fucking freezing. And now it’s getting dark.” You complained, rubbing your hands together and leaning into Jensen’s feverishly warm body to get warm. “Could they have picked a colder day?” Snow stuck to the pieces of your hair under your beanie and your hood and you tried to shake the flakes away, succeeding only in making them stick to your already frigid face.

“I’m sure they could’ve.” Jensen chuckled. “At least we’re spending most of the night in the car.”

“Jensen, Y/N.” Phil approached and you both looked up, wondering why he was practically running through the snow to you. “There’s a storm rolling in, we wanna try to wrap your scenes before it gets here. We’re gonna have you both drive out ahead of us in the Impala with the camera attached just to get some driving scenes from you two and we’ll follow you out in a few.”

“Got it.” Jensen nodded and laced his gloved fingers with yours, leading you to the Impala and opening your door for you. You practically dove inside to the warmth and shed your winter jacket and gloves, down to your character’s normal clothes. Jensen took his place in the driver’s side and took off driving down the snow covered back roads.

The snow had started to fall a little harder as you drove further away and the car was sliding despite Jensen’s driving skills, making you nervous. The crew was nowhere in sight yet and you were starting to worry that the storm was rushing in faster than anticipated. “Are you OK?” Jensen questioned. “You look like you might throw up.”

“Me? I’m fine. I’m just worried we’re not – “ A scream erupted from your throat before you could finish your sentence, the Impala hit a patch of black ice that sent it spinning across the road. Jensen tried hard to save it, but the entire road was a sheet of ice and there was nothing he could do but let it play out however it was supposed to. The Impala spun into a nearby ditch, the front end crashing hard into a tree.

“Y/N? Hey!” Jensen grabbed you across the seat, checking you for injuries.

“I’m OK.” You nodded, checking him over for the same thing, finding him to be just fine. “Car’s not.” There was smoke coming from the hood; no way was it in any condition to drive back.

“Shit.” Jensen muttered and pulled your jackets, hats, and gloves from the back seat, handing you yours. You shimmied into them and slid across the seat, huddling with Jensen for warmth. It was already starting to get cold inside the Impala, the wind outside had picked up considerably and with no heat inside anymore it was only a matter of time before it started freezing inside. He dug inside his pockets, pulling out his phone. “Fuck. It’s dead. Do you have yours?”

“Yeah, I should.” You shifted away, fumbling through your pockets. Panic started to overtake you when all your pockets came up empty. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“I think I left it back in the doctor’s trailer when we got you checked out.” Tears started to burn in your eyes and Jensen pulled you back against his chest, kissing your temple. “They’ll never find us out here. They might not be coming anymore since the storm picked up. They might’ve called us to tell us to come back and we didn’t get the call.”

“They’re comin’, sweetheart.” Jensen rubbed up and down your arms, creating friction for warmth. “Even if they did cancel the shoot, if they couldn’t get us, they’ll come looking.”

Jensen started to shiver after about 15 minutes, his fever making him feel even colder than he actually was. He was still burning up to the touch. You lasted a bit longer than him before you were utterly freezing, his body heat helping to keep you warm. “We can’t stay in this car.” You said through chattering teeth. “We’ll freeze to death if they don’t find us. Or end up buried in the snow.”

“There was a cabin a little ways back. The one we were gonna film in. You think we can make it there?” Jensen asked.

“I’m more worried about you, Jens.” You sighed. “You’re already sick. I can make it just fine, what about you?”

“Well, it’s that or freeze, right?” Jensen chuckled and you glared at him, not seeing the humor in it at all. “I’m fine, baby, come on. Let’s get whatever we can use outta the car and get going before the storm really amps up.” You wrote a note before getting out of the car, letting whoever found the damaged car know you were both unharmed and where you were going so they knew where to look.

Jensen pulled you out of the car and into the wind and the snow, moving to the trunk. You pulled out the duffel and stuffed a blanket inside along with some working lighters and started on your way, your arm linked with Jensen’s.

The cabin wasn’t far. It was less than a mile down the road, but it felt like a lifetime away. The cold from the wind was burning every bit of exposed skin. You could barely breathe and the snow was piling higher, making it harder and harder to walk. The cold was seeping through your jeans, moist from the snow, and your legs were refusing to move, slowing you both down.

When the cabin finally came in to view, you were practically dragging each other to the door. You couldn’t feel your hands or feet anymore, you probably had frostbite, but you were determined to get Jensen somewhere warm and safe before taking care of yourself.

It took all your combined strength to pull the door open but when you finally did you shoved Jensen inside first and followed behind him, slamming the door shut behind you. The cabin was tiny, consisting of only a small kitchen with a table and a few chairs, a bed, a couch, and a fireplace. The bathroom was in a room off to the side, but other than that, you’d seen the whole place as soon as you opened the door.

Jensen went straight for the lights, flipping the switch several times to no avail. “Power’s out.” He sighed in defeat. “At least it has a fireplace.” He looked absolutely exhausted and so much paler than before.

“I got it. Get your wet clothes off.” Jensen glared at you like you were absolutely insane. “I know you think I’m crazy but if you don’t get those wet clothes off you’re gonna get frostbite or hypothermia.” You moved to the fireplace and started stacking wood and paper in it. You were freezing and you hands were fumbling everything, dropping them in the fireplace more than organized stacking. Your gloves were soaked and your jeans were soaked, but you needed to start the fire and get Jensen warm before you could think about yourself.

You finally ripped off your gloves, the skin on your hands an angry red, and tried to light the lighter. You couldn’t get a grip on it, fumbling with it and dropping it on the floor several times before Jensen appeared behind you. “I got it.” Jensen murmured in your ear, gently taking the lighter from your hands. “Get those wet clothes off before you freeze to death. You were right. It’s the fever, I’m not thinking clear or I would’ve known to do that on my own.”’

You quickly stripped down to the layer of clothes that wasn’t soaked through, leaving you in just a flannel shirt, t-shirt, and underwear. Jensen hadn’t fared much better when you really looked at him. He was still wearing his flannel and his t-shirt, along with his boxers. You made quick work of checking the small kitchen in the cabin for supplies, finding it barren. You slammed one of the cabinet doors shut in frustration, catching Jensen’s attention. “I’m sorry.” You huffed. “I just thought there’d be food or something.”

“Hopefully we won’t be here long enough to need it.” Jensen was always so hopeful. You weren’t sure if he did that for his own benefit, yours, both, or if he was truly that optimistic. “Come get warm.” You hadn’t even noticed Jensen had managed to get the fire going. It was small but the warmth was spreading through the tiny room. You quickly grabbed his and your balled up clothes and laid them out by the fire and moved to the bed, crawling in with him.

“Here, get close.” Jensen said and pulled you in. “Body heat is good.” Any excuse to snuggle with him, you’d gladly take, and you snuggled as close as you could get, tangling your arms and legs together and pressing your chest to his. You pulled the blankets up and he snuggled even closer, the fever and the cold making him shiver.

“How do you feel? Be honest.” You said, looking him in his gorgeous green eyes.

“Like shit.” He let out a cough and laid his head on the pillow right in front of you, seeing the concern in your eyes. “I’ve been worse. I promise.” He took your free hand in his under the covers and you hissed in pain at the simple touch. “Oh, baby, I think it’s frostbitten.” He let go, releasing the pressure and gently laid it against his burning skin for warmth instead. You moved your other hand to rest against his back, sliding it under the t-shirt and sighed in pleasure at how nice it felt.

Both of you laid there in silence after that, listening to the howling wind and the crackle of the fire. You could see the snow building up outside the window. It was so high it was halfway up the window now. No way were you getting out of here without someone to plow you out.

Your eyelids started to flutter despite yourself. Your hope was Jensen didn’t catch it, but of course he did. “You’re tired.” He said. “I’ll take first watch. They should be here soon. Sleep. I’ll wake you up when they get here.”

“Jensen, no. It’s ok.” You tried to protest but all he did was pull you in closer and cradle you to his body. His fever was higher, that much was clear from just how warm he was. Part of you knew sleeping was a bad idea right now, but your brain was cloudy and confused. Maybe if you’d given it more thought you wouldn’t have given in so easily, or maybe your body wasn’t giving you a choice. You didn’t want to sleep, but your body betrayed you. Your eyelids turned to lead. “Hey, wake me for second watch. Don’t be a hero.”

He gave you that smirk you’d come to love. “Who, me?” He kissed you, his lips parched and feverishly warm. “Sleep.” You fell asleep in seconds wrapped in his embrace like this.

Jensen waited, rubbing your back, watching out the window for any sign of someone coming to rescue you. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore and he drifted off, his face buried in your hair. Neither of you heard the crackle of the fire die and the howling of the winds pick up. Neither of you felt the temperatures dip down even colder than they had been before. Neither of you noticed when help finally arrived.

“They’re here!” Jared yelled from the door and ran inside, shaking you both. “Hey, Y/N/N, Jackles! Wake up!” When he got no response from either of you he started with you, turning you gently to your back. Your skin was absolutely freezing to the touch and your lips were a shade of blue he’d only seen in movies, but you were still breathing, ragged and shallow. Jensen’s breathing could be heard, the congestion rattling in his chest, but also shallow and terrifying. “Get the fucking medics in here! Now!”

It took too long for anyone’s liking to get you both out of the woods and to a hospital where real rewarming could start. Jared tried hard to get you both in the same room so he and Misha weren’t running between rooms contacting your families, but the hospital had been adamantly against that. They traded off periodically, one taking your room and the other taking Jensen’s. Misha sat in your room tonight while Jared took Jensen’s, texting each other progress notes back in forth. So far, there hadn’t been any. Neither of you showed any signs of waking up anytime soon, no signs of life at all other than the fact that you were both there, right in front of them. All they could do was wait.

“This is amazing.” You leaned back into Jensen’s chest in the huge cabin on the mountain he’d brought you to for the much anticipated week off, clutching your peppermint hot chocolate in your hand and watching the snow fall lightly out the window. “You’re amazing. You think of everything.” The fire was roaring, everything was quiet and peaceful, just you and Jensen, just like you wanted.

“I’m really glad you love it.” Jensen leaned down and kissed your neck, making you shiver.

“I love any time I get to spend with you alone.” You leaned your head back, capturing his lips with yours. The light of the fire caught your wedding ring when you shifted and you stared at it, moving your fingers against the light. “I can’t believe we finally got married. I thought we never would. I love you, Mr. Ackles.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Ackles.” Jensen chuckled, lacing his fingers with your free hand and pulling you back in for another tender kiss.

Part 3 Coming Spring 2018

Jensen Tags: @a-girl-who-loves-disney @adaliamalfoy @aiaranradnay @akshi8278 @apeshit7x @ariannnawinchester @arryn-nyxx @aubreystilinski @autopistaaningunaparte @babydanixox @bakabozza @beacon-hills-chance-harbor @betterlattethennever @blacktithe7 @bloodysideofhell @boredoutofmymindstuff @born-to-be-his-baby88 @bringmesomepie56 @capsofwinchesters @captainradicalpassion @charliebradbury1104 @chickenmcsade @clarewinchester @d-s-winchester @dancingalone21 @deanswhiskeyveins @deanwinchesterisamazing @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @docharleythegeekqueen @dragontearsandunicornfears @dreamsfromthebunker @duckieburns @duherica @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emohermione @emoryhemsworth @escabell @evansrogerskitten @evilskank-inthemegacoven @fangirlingfanatic2442 @feelmyroarrrr @gabavaldman @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @growningupgeek @impala-dreamer @impalaimagining @itseverythingilike @iwantthedean @iwriteshortstuff @jalove-wecallhimdean @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @jayankles @jensen-gal @jensen-jarpad @jojo-nz @jotink78 @kalliravenne @kgbrenner @kittenofdoomage @kittycat-cas @lenaabs @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @mayasmedberg @meeshw777 @mogaruke @my-supernatural-dreams @nichelle-my-belle @not-moose-one-shots @nothingeverdies @notmoose45 @outerxorbit @percussiongirl2017 @percywinchester27 @riakie @riversong-sam @rlawson418 @ruprecht0420 @sammysflannels @sandlee44 @silver-and-green @sis-tafics @skybinx-blog @smoothdogsgirl @soobi89 @spn-fan-girl-173 @spontaneousam @starswirlblitz @stilinski15 @summoningsupernatural @supernatural-girl97 @supernatural-jackles @supernatural0826 @taste-of-dean @tattooedluci @teepartyy @the-angels-stole-the-tardis @thelastxgoodthing @thereisnolumos @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @wayward-marvel-sommer1196 @waywardjoy @whit85-blog @winchestdiaries @winchester-writes @winchesterprincessbride @winchesters-favorite-girl @yellowtheremarvelfan @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

#ana's pjo quotes challenge #taylor's favorite seasons gif challenge #sol - heart of winter challenge #a dream is a wish your heart makes #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #reader x jensen #reader x jensen ackles #RPF #actor fic #jensen ackles fic #supernatural #spn #spn fic

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robgrayofficial · 6 years

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GOOOOD AFTERNOON PATRIOTS!This is your girl, u/Ivaginaryfriend here and I'm back with your weekly recap of all things dank and spicy!As always, If you happened to miss any past recaps you can catch them here!Let's get this recap started!Sunday, September 2nd:🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Tiger Woods showed great class in the way he answered the question about the Office of the Presidency and me. Now they say the so-called “left” is angry at him. So sad, but the “center & right” loves Tiger, Kanye, George Foreman, Jim Brown & so many other greats, even more....... ... ....The fact is that African/American unemployment is now the lowest in the history of our country. Same with Asian, Hispanic and almost every other group. The Democrats have been all talk and no action. My Administration has already produced like no other, and everyone sees it!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Peaceful memorial gatherings, showing victims of Muslim attacks, is now considered “alt right”. No wonder liberal schools want to ban 9/11 memorials!Chick-fil-A Manager Stops Service To Pray for Employee Having Surgery for Breast Cancer. With In and Out getting love, I figure we still want to appreciate Chick-fil-A.The perfect woman doesn't exi...Uncucked Seahawks owner Paul Allen gives $100,000 to help Republicans keep control of U.S. House, MAGA🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Imagine trying to explain this picture to someone 5 years agoI'll just leave this hereJust an iconic photo of the 21st century that you'll never see in a textbookTRUMP 2020Anon gets robbed by the FedsMonday, September 3rd:🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Happy Labor Day! Our country is doing better than ever before with unemployment setting record lows. The U.S. has tremendous upside potential as we go about fixing some of the worst Trade Deals ever made by any country in the world. Big progress being made!The Worker in America is doing better than ever before. Celebrate Labor Day!Richard Trumka, the head of the AFL-CIO, represented his union poorly on television this weekend. Some of the things he said were so against the working men and women of our country, and the success of the U.S. itself, that it is easy to see why unions are doing so poorly. A Dem!The U.S. is respected again!(Retweeting The White House) In July, President Trump announced the Pledge to America's Workers. In little more than a month since, MILLIONS of new opportunities have been created for our workforce.(Retweeting Ivanka Trump) Today, on #LaborDay, let’s also recognize the amazing stay-at-home parents across America, who seldom receive the credit they deserve for the invaluable work that they do, as they nurture and raise the next generation of American workers! Thank you! #HappyLaborDayTwo long running, Obama era, investigations of two very popular Republican Congressmen were brought to a well publicized charge, just ahead of the Mid-Terms, by the Jeff Sessions Justice Department. Two easy wins now in doubt because there is not enough time. Good job Jeff...... ... ....The Democrats, none of whom voted for Jeff Sessions, must love him now. Same thing with Lyin’ James Comey. The Dems all hated him, wanted him out, thought he was disgusting - UNTIL I FIRED HIM! Immediately he became a wonderful man, a saint like figure in fact. Really sick!I see that John Kerry, the father of the now terminated Iran deal, is thinking of running for President. I should only be so lucky - although the field that is currently assembling looks really good - FOR ME!According to the Failing New York Times, the FBI started a major effort to flip Putin loyalists in 2014-2016. “It wasn’t about Trump, he wasn’t even close to a candidate yet.” Rigged Witch Hunt!President Bashar al-Assad of Syria must not recklessly attack Idlib Province. The Russians and Iranians would be making a grave humanitarian mistake to take part in this potential human tragedy. Hundreds of thousands of people could be killed. Don’t let that happen!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Japan only admits 27 Muslim “refugees.” Two already arrested for gang rape.r/politics just can't believe in happy/successful conservative POCDiner that kicked out Sarah Huckabee Sanders has severe drop in tourism, now pulling from emergency funds to “rescue their image” in new ad campaign.Since President Trump took office, he has helped create 3.4+ million new jobs (7/31/18), the overall unemployment rate has dropped from 4.6% to 3.9%, long-term unemployment has dropped from 1.9 million to 1.4 million, and some of us with crappy jobs have found better jobs through more choices!ININININININININININININININININININ - N - OUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUT🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Ryan Gosling's next movieJust a picture of the savior of the western world going out to meet his destiny.Blue Wave 2018- Ben Garrison cartoon! Beach Closed!He could have kept to his billionaire lifestyle, where the media and celebrities all loved him. Instead he decided to help our country. And he didn't do it by taking a knee, but by standing up!What the fucking fuck!?Tuesday, September 4th:TODAY'S ACTION:President Donald J. Trump Announces Intent to Nominate and Appoint Personnel to Key Administration PostsPresident Donald J. Trump Signs an Executive Order Protecting Americans' Retirement🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:NBC FAKE NEWS, which is under intense scrutiny over their killing the Harvey Weinstein story, is now fumbling around making excuses for their probably highly unethical conduct. I have long criticized NBC and their journalistic standards-worse than even CNN. Look at their license?Everyone in the path of #Gordon please heed the advice of State and local officials and follow @NHC_Atlantic for updates. The Federal Government stands ready to assist. Be safe!Jon Kyl will be an extraordinary Senator representing an extraordinary state, Arizona. I look forward to working with him!The Brett Kavanaugh hearings for the future Justice of the Supreme Court are truly a display of how mean, angry, and despicable the other side is. They will say anything, and are only.... ... ....looking to inflict pain and embarrassment to one of the most highly renowned jurists to ever appear before Congress. So sad to see!“Pledge to America’s Workers”Paul Cook is a decorated Marine Corps Veteran who loves and supports our Military and Vets. He is Strong on Crime, the Border, and supported Tax Cuts for the people of California. Paul has my total and complete Endorsement!“Judge Brett Kavanaugh is an Exceptionally Qualified and Deserving Nominee for the Supreme Court”Statement from Secretary of Defense, James Mattis:Statement from White House Chief of Staff, General John Kelly:Statement from White House @PressSec, Sarah Sanders:The Woodward book has already been refuted and discredited by General (Secretary of Defense) James Mattis and General (Chief of Staff) John Kelly. Their quotes were made up frauds, a con on the public. Likewise other stories and quotes. Woodward is a Dem operative? Notice timing?Sleepy Eyes Chuck Todd of Fake NBC News said it’s time for the Press to stop complaining and to start fighting back. Actually Chuck, they’ve been doing that from the day I announced for President. They’ve gone all out, and I WON, and now they’re going CRAZY!The already discredited Woodward book, so many lies and phony sources, has me calling Jeff Sessions “mentally retarded” and “a dumb southerner.” I said NEITHER, never used those terms on anyone, including Jeff, and being a southerner is a GREAT thing. He made this up to divide!Jim Mattis Calls Woodward Book 'Fiction': 'Product of Someone's Rich Imagination'“Secretary Mattis Nukes Woodward Allegations”SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Statement from Secretary of Defense, James Mattis:Statement from a White House Chief of Staff, General John KellyConfirmation hearing for Supreme Court nominee Judge Brett KavanaughWhile America was distracted with the Kavanaugh circus, nobody noticed that Arizona flipped RED today in the SenateWomen’s March leader Linda Sarsour was among the left-wing activists arrested Tuesday for interrupting the confirmation hearing for Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:SALT MINE THREAD CONFIRMATION HEARING FOR SUPREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEME COURT NOMINEE JUDGE KAVANAUGH - REDDIT SUICIDE WATCH CONTINUESA black man drops a red pill in r/news, gets massive downvotes but also gold x 4. #WalkAway, bro!Just a picture of our next Supreme Court Justice.Watching the Kavanaugh hearing on Fox, it sounds like a couple of these non-gender specific humans might be producing lots of salt in the audienceBrett Kavanaugh leaves his house with....an ADIDAS bag. #NikeBoycottWednesday, September 5th:TODAY'S ACTION:President Donald J. Trump Announces Intent to Nominate Individual to a Key Administration PostPresident Trump Meets with the Amir of the State of KuwaitPresident Trump has an Expanded Bilateral Meeting with the Amir of the State of KuwaitPresident Trump Meets with Republican Congressional LeadershipPresident Trump Meets with Sheriffs from Across the Country🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Isn’t it a shame that someone can write an article or book, totally make up stories and form a picture of a person that is literally the exact opposite of the fact, and get away with it without retribution or cost. Don’t know why Washington politicians don’t change libel laws?Almost everyone agrees that my Administration has done more in less than two years than any other Administration in the history of our Country. I’m tough as hell on people & if I weren’t, nothing would get done. Also, I question everybody & everything-which is why I got elected!The Trump Economy is booming with help of House and Senate GOP. #FarmBill with SNAP work requirements will bolster farmers and get America back to work. Pass the Farm Bill with SNAP work requirements!Just like the NFL, whose ratings have gone WAY DOWN, Nike is getting absolutely killed with anger and boycotts. I wonder if they had any idea that it would be this way? As far as the NFL is concerned, I just find it hard to watch, and always will, until they stand for the FLAG!Thank you General Kelly, book is total fiction!Thank you General Mattis, book is boring & untrue!Join me tomorrow night at 7:00pm MDT in Billings, Montana for a MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN RALLY! Get your tickets here:Today, it was my honor to welcome the Amir of Kuwait to the @WhiteHouse!The Failing New York Times!TREASON?Does the so-called “Senior Administration Official” really exist, or is it just the Failing New York Times with another phony source? If the GUTLESS anonymous person does indeed exist, the Times must, for National Security purposes, turn him/her over to government at once!I’m draining the Swamp, and the Swamp is trying to fight back. Don’t worry, we will win!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Confirmation hearing for Supreme Court nominee Judge Brett Kavanaugh, Day 2BREAKING: Kim Jong Un agrees to cooperate with United States in nuclear talks.There is an admitted TRAITOR inside the Trump Administration. Someone needs to get to the bottom of this ASAP!!!!!Here's the video of Alex Jones confronting CNN's oliver darcy - the reporter who lobbied YouTube & Facebook to shut down Infowars. "You are incredibly shameful," Jones told Darcy, adding, "You are literally an anti-American, anti-free speech coward."Sarah Sanders Unleashes the Fury on a TraitorFITTON:GIANT Email Finds by Judicial Watch: Strzok drafted initial Comey letter on Weiner laptop to Congress. Comey seems to have shut down probe before Weiner laptop review complete.🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Paid Protestors she me the moneyJust being AntifaSo this is the end game they really wanted?Alex Jones having a ball at Facebook/Twitter Congressional hearingsBrigade us all you want, lefties. You’re still losingThursday, September 6th:TODAY'S ACTION:Six Nominations Sent to the Senate🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Kim Jong Un of North Korea proclaims “unwavering faith in President Trump.” Thank you to Chairman Kim. We will get it done together!The Deep State and the Left, and their vehicle, the Fake News Media, are going Crazy - & they don’t know what to do. The Economy is booming like never before, Jobs are at Historic Highs, soon TWO Supreme Court Justices & maybe Declassification to find Additional Corruption. Wow!Cosumer confidence highest in 18 years, Atlanta Fed forecasts 4.7 GDP, manufacturing jobs highest in many years. “It’s the story of the Trump Administration, the Economic Success, that’s unnerving his detractors.” @MariaBartiromo“The record is quite remarkable. The President has faithfully followed the agenda he campaigned on in 2016. People should focus on the results, and they’re extraordinary!” James Freeman - Wall Street JournalLook forward to seeing everyone in Montana tonight! #MAGAAre the investigative “journalists” of the New York Times going to investigate themselves - who is the anonymous letter writer?Landing in Montana now to support Matt Rosendale for U.S. Senate! #MAGAGetting ready to go on stage for Matt Rosendale, who will be a great Senator. Jon Tester has let the people of Montana down & does not deserve another six years. Matt is strong on Crime, the Borders, & will save your Second Amendment from the onslaught. Loves our Military & Vets!MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!Thank you Montana, I love you!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Confirmation hearing for Supreme Court nominee Judge Brett Kavanaugh, Day 3Man Caught Paying Off Kavanaugh Protesters Works For Soros-Funded OrganizationMcCABE GRAND JURY: Secret Grand Jury Proceedings Underway Against Andrew McCabe; Witnesses Summoned – It's almost like Christmas morning every day right now! SaLtY tEaRs RaIn On Me!!!!Obama’s spying scandal is starting to look a lot like WatergateDocs Reveal Clinton Meddling In Russian PoliticsPRESS BRIEFINGS, INTERVIEWS, RALLIES:WATCH PARTY: President Trump & Matt Rosendale Rally - Billings, MT - 9/6/18🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Kick and scream all you want, losers. Kavanaugh is getting approved. Day 3 lets go!The Left's worst nightmareOkay.. which one of you was this?Alex Jones’s last tweet... Press F to pay respects.over 100 downvotes in 10 minutes, these people are FUCKING SEETHING that Kavanaugh is getting inFriday, September 7th:TODAY'S ACTION:President Donald J. Trump Announces Intent to Appoint Individual to a Key Administration PostPresidential Proclamation on National Days of Prayer and Remembrance, 2018🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:What was Nike thinking?Matt Rosendale will be a Great Senator from a Great State, Montana! He is a fighter who will be tough on Crime and the Border, fight hard for our 2nd Amendment and loves our Military and our Vets. He has my full and complete Endorsement!The Woodward book is a scam. I don’t talk the way I am quoted. If I did I would not have been elected President. These quotes were made up. The author uses every trick in the book to demean and belittle. I wish the people could see the real facts - and our country is doing GREAT!Under our horrible immigration laws, the Government is frequently blocked from deporting criminal aliens with violent felony convictions. House GOP just passed a bill to increase our ability to deport violent felons (Crazy Dems opposed). Need to get this bill to my desk fast!“Unprecedented Jobs Growth Streak Continues as Wages Rise”14 days for $28 MILLION - $2 MILLION a day, No Collusion. A great day for America!(Retweeting Dan Scavino Jr.) .@larry_kudlow: “Job gains, wage growth show Trump's economic boom continues”(Retweeting Caleb Hull) [“I complained plenty about Fox News, but I never threatened to shut them down.” It’s probably a good time to remind you that Obama used the Espionage Act to go after whistleblowers who leaked to journalists more than all previous presidents combined.]()(Retweeting Richard Grenall) [fact check: @realDonaldTrump kicked the Nazi out of NYC after 14 years and multiple Presidents allowed him to stay.]()(Retweeting Eric Bolling) Watching @BarackObama take credit for @realDonaldTrump successes is disgraceful. Score So Far- TRUMP: -Unemployment Rate -GDP -Wage Growth -# Blacks Employed -# Hispanics Employed -# Women Employed -ISIS Wins -Homegrown Terror Events. OBAMA: -Slick Speaking -School ShootingsSIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Confirmation hearing for Supreme Court nominee Judge Brett Kavanaugh, Day 4Fuck yes!!!. ICE Raids Dairy Farm Where Illegal Alien Accused of Killing Mollie Tibbetts WorkedA sample of 300 verified Twitter accounts promoting anti-white racism. Strange what will get one banned and what will get one check-marked and promoted, isn't it?BREAKING: Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell signals Cory Booker may face ethics probe over document release in political stuntLOL!!! Trump on Obongo's speech: "I fell asleep. I've found he's very good, very good for sleeping."🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Not Real SocialismHad a few Pedes ask about the image I used on my sign at the Billings rally last night. I didn't create it, I just spruced up the color and changed the slogan on the hat, added the text at the bottom. Make it your own!14 DAYS! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHACorey Booker is the gift that keeps givingTrump Jr. for the winSaturday, September 8th:🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Dave Hughes is running for Congress in the Great State of Minnesota. He will help us accomplish our America First policies, is strong on Crime, the Border, our 2nd Amendmen, Trade, Military and Vets. Running against Pelosi Liberal Puppet Petterson. Dave has my Total Endorsement!“To this point, President Trump’s achievements are unprecedented.” @LouDobbsWe are breaking all Jobs and Economic Records but, importantly, our Country has TREMENDOUS FUTURE POTENTIAL. We have just begun!Apple prices may increase because of the massive Tariffs we may be imposing on China - but there is an easy solution where there would be ZERO tax, and indeed a tax incentive. Make your products in the United States instead of China. Start building new plants now. Exciting! #MAGASIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Marketwatch: The reasons why Trump’s trade wars will boost U.S. jobs and stocksSomeone Remind Obama that Trump Kicked the Nazi Out of NYC – The Same Nazi Obama Ignored for 8 YearsCNN buys ad on “InfoWars” search in App StoreSecDef Mattis signs a flag for the door gunner on a CH-47 Chinook upon departure from Kabul, Afghanistan, Sept. 7Battlefield 5 censors "white man" in chat. I thought it was ok to be white?🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:THIS AGED WELL QUOTE: Mark CubanJust Delete It.Typical Obama...Number of days since President Trump asked kneeling NFL players to recommend wrongfully convicted people for pardonsSuper Rare PepeSOOOO MUCH FUCKING WINNING!Without further ado, some tunes to get you jamming through all this WINNING:I Love ItRosesPink and WhiteStay Up!Only OneIvyMAGA ON PATRIOTS! #robgray

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Construction of a Useful Container House

The reputation of the diverse types of the container house is at the top in recent times. The methodology is regularly getting to be outstanding many of the full-size majority of the general population Pallet Furniture and severa individuals are looking for a slight path for constructing a residence. In these intense financial times, a container house is a price thinking about an alternative to fabricating a home. Additionally, a delivery holder must have the characteristic of environment-pleasant. Since the substantial majority of the manufacturers and originators are focused on this commercial enterprise, it's far some thing, however difficult to get help whilst constructing those varieties of houses.

How to Build a Container House

A guy ought to take into file the form of domestic, he desires earlier than starting improvement due to the reality that a house is a major and long haul speculation. The tremendous majority of the pallet furniture ideas overall population assembles a holder home and after a few years feel that they require an ordinary custom house. Subsequently, you should make sure whether you genuinely need a holder residence earlier than you positioned a big quantity of greenbacks in building the same.

Before beginning improvement of the house, you ought to check the close by codes and ensure which you agree to the codes. This will assure that the close by powers do not push aside your container house while it is underneath improvement. Before drawing closer the powers, take the help of an professional planner, transient employee, and design. Their diy pallet furniture vast exhortation will make certain that your field residence is encouraged by means of the powers. Reach them with the subtle elements of your own home set up so they can enjoy the association and test whether or not the education conforms to the close by codes.

The following component to remember is the extent of the house so that you can empower you to realize the wide variety of holders you have got to buy for constructing the house. The booths are generally less pricey, however it is actual that the value is an difficulty to transport them to the building website. It is right to keep away from obtaining applied holders as it'd include a few hurtful materials which may additionally have an effect on you over the long haul. Despite the entirety you want to buy utilized compartment, guarantee that the holders are wiped clean appropriately.

It is prudent to purchase new sending holders which are without rust. There are distinct locations available all over the global that offer new and applied holders and henceforth it's far something but tough to buy the only in step with the stipulations. It is enormously prescribed to make pallet patio furniture use of the box residence experts with a selected quit goal to have a well synthetic transporting holder home. This will make certain which you have a pleasantly planned box house for you to final greater.

The great manner to accumulate the maximum beneficial Container House that meets the global requirements is to make use of the services of the X-suppose as it's far up to the mark and available at a low fee.

Fat Girl Slimmer: Making the Move From ObeCity to Healthy Town

243 is a number I shall in no way forget.

243 turned into the wide variety I saw flash and groan across the LED display on my scale my first time stepping on it in years.

"I do not care how an awful lot I allow myself move, I'll by no means allow myself get over two hundred kilos!"

I said that to myself when the weight first commenced piling on when I became about 28 years antique. At 42, some thing Personal Trainer Miami went horribly wrong about forty three times. Obese, huge-boned, thick, overweight, pleasingly plump, heavy at the bass, BBW, all euphemisms that still amount to the one phrase everybody desires to keep away from, either on their bodies or popping out in their mouths - fat. No count number how I cut it, irrespective of how artfully pals and own family danced across the sensitive words that could make me feel awful, no matter how less-artful oldsters gave zero fats-fux about propriety and let insults fly out as they may, I become a biggun!

I attempted getting to know to love the skin I become in and spent years foregoing any exercise program, training a critical See-Food Diet lest I be like those afflicted with low shallowness. There are quite a few happy, heavy human beings. They're all over World Star. No be counted what even though, I become by no means satisfied inside the fleshier skin I became in. Weighing all those extra kilos made my body sense like a jail. Energy, spirit, movement, all on lock down underneath hundreds of cussed and lazy adipose.

It wasn't all approximately vanity or outward look both. I used to play Hide 'n Seek, as an adult. I'd be the best man or woman over the age of six roller-skating in her neighborhood. I'd installation and perform in badminton competitions on the park and seaside. Best Personal Trainer Miami I did those sports and extra before the load piled on, before eating meals have become the simplest competitive pastime I engaged in, competing best with myself.

Last year, after a few wake-up calls, I decided to pay attention to my personal heart and do some thing turned into vital to reclaim the old, used-to-be-satisfied me.

That intended I had to make a flow.

I needed to percent my saddle bags and spare tire, grab my love handles by way of the roll and say good-bye to ObeCity. All those different tries by no means virtually counted. The one time I have become obsessed on fasting for weight reduction and consumed nothing however H2O for twenty-seven days directly. I misplaced thirty- pounds and for a short 2d it became adios to obesity. One plate of nachos as my break rapid later, and days of swelling, bloating, and vomiting... It turned into like I never left. Oh Phen-Fen and different prescribed drugs. False wish in a bottle for as quickly as you stop taking those guy-made gold-mines, not simplest is your wallet tired, however the weight piles again on with vengeance. There were earnest attempts at losing weight, however life simply constantly appeared to get within the way, or if I did not lose thirty kilos in seven days I'd get off the coolest foot and make up for lost energy. This time round I determined might be my last but severe strive at chasing the numbers on the scale backward. I'm getting no younger, but loads wiser. I can not blame an unfulfilled lifestyles on every person but myself. If I want to live the existence of my desires, I'd better start doing what other successes practiced each day. Work my ass off!

Seventy kilos down and every desire to dig deeper to lose the thirty extra I dream of, my pass out of ObeCity feels actual now. My parent is changing. My wardrobe is converting. I'm playing Hide 'n Seek once more. People are taking word.

"Kim! What are you doing? How are you getting the pounds off?"

Invariably, I fumble and hesitate earlier than responding. I'm no longer clearly doing some thing besides what we have been advised to do since the populace commenced increasing many years in the past - taking much less meals in and greater strength out. I comply with no plans, restriction no food organizations, or drown myself in water. I've turn out to be certainly top at each being attentive to my tummy now and attempting my darndest to devour handiest when starvation dictates. I pass 'runalking' 5 days every week for 35 mins. I can not run for the whole 35 mins and this 'runner's excessive' factor I hear point out of nevertheless eludes me, however I'm running manner extra than I am strolling. After years of succumbing to gimmicks for my weight reduction needs, old style eat less, exercise more seems to be the right trick. No magic pills, persnickety menu plans, or insane exercising schedules this time round. Thank the celebrities!

A better question than how do you do it is how do you stick with it? There sincerely are no secrets to weight loss. It's simply uninteresting and nobody wants to take the scenic direction. When you have got masses of poundage to lose, like me, the preference might often poop out lengthy before weight loss dreams were reached. How to hold up healthy eating and exercising behavior as near three hundred and sixty five days a year as possible is the million dollar question. Food will usually be my weak point. I understand that. I will by no means be capable of study a buffet without jolts of electric joy and satisfaction sparking at some stage in my complete being. Luckily in my quest to discover happiness through way of weight loss, I found something even extra. A passion for writing.

While greed is the high-quality reason for my years of fatness (nothing was ever wrong with my glands), I become additionally quite unhappy with different components in my existence. I hated my job. Food turned into my handiest ray of sunshine after a terrible day at work, and since maximum days were terrible, ingesting become a manner of coping. I quit my job and floundered approximately a chunk thinking what to do subsequent. Pounds threatening to pile lower back on with the more time on my hand and global in flux, writing helped facilitate my permanent flow out of ObeCity.

Writing is all I've ever desired to do, but I never believed I ought to. Now that I'm into living the existence of my dreams and no person else's, I'm following my passion and writing full-time. Writing is ready the most effective pastime I've ever engaged in that makes the time fly by using and I assume nothing about food. My mind, heart, and soul are united in pleasure once I'm writing. Food, now not wished.

Tapping into my ardour is supporting me make the journey from ObeCity to HealthyTown. I wouldn't remember myself a weight loss fulfillment tale yet, however this is the first time I've ever felt it possible. When the cutting-edge food plan craze has executed not anything but drive you loopy with hunger, and losing weight is the best factor that'll make you a happier camper (you need to recognise you better than every person else, right?) attempt taking a while to discover a hidden passion, one that might personal trainer in miami likely update a false dependency on food. When you're satisfied and feeling worthy and fulfilled, nothing is sweeter. Not that slice of chocolate cake or even that bag of Lay's Limon Chips. Finding your Happy may be your price ticket out of obesity if this is your desire.

Happiness: The excellent eating regimen drug!

Want to study more about the many mishaps experienced on the adventure to happiness and self assurance? Check out my E-e book, Memoirs of a Fool in Love: The Misadventures of a Girl her Heart, and her Pooncy. Available on Amazon.

TEFL (Teaching English As a Foreign Language) Certificate Programs

For those wishing to have a career in language coaching, it's miles nice to have a good expertise approximately English. With the growing call for for learning English, many countries have installation institutes that provide training guides in English. The teachers in the institutes can also or might not be of English origin. Therefore, many universities, schools and language establishments provide licensed courses for instructors with a view to assist them to grasp the unique coaching techniques and techniques. A appropriate Online Tesol Certification teacher is the one who can beautify and increase the conversation abilities of the trainees or the scholars. It is simplest possible if the trainer is acquainted with all the different strategies and strategies which might be used whilst teaching a language. The main aim of the lecturers is to allow the scholars or the trainees to communicate in English with fluency and with self assurance. Thus, a instructor with true coaching abilties and knowledge in English may have many possibilities to have a successful career.

The coaching of the English language to college students whose number one language isn't English is referred to as Teaching English as a Foreign Language or TEFL. Teachers practising TEFL may additionally or might not be local audio system of English. Qualification required for TEFL may be exclusive for different universities or institutes. Many institutes host instructor education certified applications or publications, in which contributors can analyze and master the exceptional teaching strategies. If an person is able to talk English, it does no longer necessarily suggest that he/she is qualified to educate English. For a person to train the language it is very vital that he/she has the knowledge and expertise of its grammar, and is also acquainted with the language teaching strategies. Different styles of teaching techniques are used in TEFL. They consist of studying, communicative language teaching and mixed schooling. Reading is an crucial part in TEFL.

The instructor or the reader reads a e book while pausing among lines, so that it will explain the principles and phrases to the scholars. It enables the students to apprehend the pronunciations and lets in them to talk in a higher manner. Communicative Language Teaching or CLT includes institution paintings. It helps the scholars to expand fluency in speaking and communicating, and the proper application of grammar. It is executed with the help of sports such as position-plays. It also helps in growing their self belief. CLT particularly focuses on communication through interaction. A mixture of face-to-face coaching and on line take a look at that can be performed thru virtual mastering surroundings is referred to as Blended Training. By mixing existing publications with games, sports, listening physical activities, and grammar reference, teachers can educate the students in a extra innovative manner. This technique can be carried out to lecture rooms in addition to self take a look at.

Globalization has elevated the significance of English as a language. Most of the faculties, schools and universities encourage the use Tesol Certification of English language as part of their curriculum. Many companies have workplaces remote places, and the potential to speak in English is desired. Thus, a instructor with good command over the language may have many possibilities to teach English.

Fashion Made Simple In This Article

Many people don't have a clue when it comes to fashion. If you did not grow up reading Elle and Vogue like many people and still want to get into fashion, you are still able to do so. This article has a lot of useful advice you may use to boost your fashion sense, so read on.

Strap on a belt for a fast and fashionable look. cute girls hairstyles s You can choose the appropriate color to complement your look and style. Choose something bright to go with some skinny jeans, or tone it down and go with a more sophisticated look by wearing a black belt.

Sheer clothing is beautiful, but don't forget modesty. If you pick unwisely, you can run the risk of looking cheap, not classy.

Wearing white and black is classic and that is popular this season. The best part about these simple colors is that you can throw together an endless array of outfits. You can easily use these colors in your wardrobe like a black and white dress or a nice, white shirt with a pair of black pants. You can open many doors for yourself by choosing these colors.

You can dress up jeans by pairing them with a shirt that is more dressy and a pair of heels, but this is only acceptable if you plan on wearing black jeans. Save the other jean colors for a fashion statement that is more on the casual side.

There are endless accessories made just for hair. Accessories for your hair include scrunchies in a myriad of colors and fabrics, headbands, elegant barrettes, and even clip-on hair extensions. Focus on having several accessories available to you. For instance, if you are going for a sporty look, match a ponytail holder to your track suit for a great look and practicality. When going away, be sure to bring headbands that match your outfits.

A dark shirt paired with a dark skirt can help to slim you. Dark colors help emphasize your good parts and tone down the overweight extras you don't want people to notice. For extra comfort, try an elastic band around the waste.

Use the entire beauty product up before throwing them out. You might want to purchase a squeezer that can be used for getting every last drop out of products that come in tubes. To get the last drops of bottled products, store them at an angle, or even upside-down. Another tip is to remove the top of the bottle so you can reach into the bottle to get any remnants. Utilize all these cost saving tips to get the most out of your beauty products.

If plus sized clothing is what you typically wear, but you want to look smaller than that, do not wear floral patterns with large imagery. The large imagery puts attention on your size, which does not flatter you. If you want to wear a floral pattern, choose one with small-sized flowers.

Every woman should at least have a few key items in her closet. You should always have a couple of pairs of slacks and jeans that have a hem that fits with heels and other for sneakers. Also, you should always keep a black dress for formal events.

Become aware of your body's weaknesses and strengths. If you are someone who is petite in size, you will want to choose fabrics that are soft with styles that are fitted in order to lengthen out your body. Buxom women should wear noteworthy pants or skirts that draw others' eyes away from the bust. You can use lighter colors for shirts or blouses and darker colors for pants or skirts to balance out a pear-shaped body.

If you don't have much money to spend on fashion, it's okay to tell your friends about it. If you love a certain piece one of your friends owns, inform her that you would love to have it whenever she gets tired of it. That way, you get some great stuff for free.

Get the basics if you want to be fashionable. A well-fitting bra defines your figure and gives you a silhouette that is appealing. Underwear is meant to give you support and create a smooth fit. Choose a slimming undergarment if you want to hide some of the weight problems that you have.

A fashion tip that is often overlooked is to eliminate seldom-used articles of clothing; consider donating them mens long hairstyles . Doing this is beneficial in two ways. First, you are helping others. Secondly, you will find it easier to coordinate your own wardrobe if your closet is not filled with items you can't wear.

There is no need for fashion journals in order to develop your sense of style. As long as you can absorb and follow some simple fashion information, you should have no problem at all looking great in a little amount of time and with little money. Use these tips to get started.

Read This Before Trying To Lose Weight

There is much more to losing weight than just improving your appearance. Certainly, that is one aspect, but losing extra pounds can help improve your health and help you feel better as well. miami personal training This article will give you some weight loss tips that not only help you to lose weight but will help you become healthier in the process.

Cardio exercise should be done when you first wake up and before you eat. Studies have shown that doing cardio this way burns three hundred percent more calories than if you were to do cardio at any other time of the day.

If you want to lose weight the right way, make sure that you get a minimal amount of daily calories. Starvation based diets are very bad for your health for a number of reasons. One reason is that when you withhold food, your body slows its metabolism in order to try and hang onto your energy stores, which is another word for fat. This kind of diet also puts you at risk of binge eating, not to mention a fast return to your pre-diet weight once normal eating habits resume.

You're probably still going to want to dine out while you're on a diet. Know that portions at restaurants are bigger than what you need. It's a smart idea, for your diet and your wallet (bonus!), to ask the waitress for a to-go container and immediately put half your meal inside. Not only will you cut down on unnecessary calories, but you will also have the perfect lunch the following day.

Be sure to eat breakfast every day to promote a healthy metabolism and consistent weight loss. For some, this is obvious. For others, they believe avoiding breakfast will help them skip consuming more calories. It may cut back on calories at first, but skipping breakfast can cause serious cravings by lunch time. You might end up running to the vending machine before lunch even hits because you are so hungry.

Try to take photos of yourself when you start your weight loss routine so that you can compare photos over time. You can then see how much you've lost, instead of relying on scale numbers. It can also amaze your friends by showing them your progression over time.

Throw out clothes that are too big once you start shedding pounds. This activity gives you concrete evidence of your progress and makes you more confident. It gives you even more of a reason to keep the pounds off.

Set realistic goals when starting a diet. Always have a goal that is attainable to reduce the chance for failure. If you also try to drop a large amount of weight in an unrealistically short period of time, you are going to fail. Be wise, set a weekly goal that can be achieved. personal trainer brickell Try not to look at your ultimate goal too much. Try concentrating on things that you can achieve every week.

Find other things to do than just eat. Many people's favorite pastime is spending time in the kitchen and eating what they create. There's nothing wrong with that. Food can be quite enjoyable. Just ensure that you have other interests that you enjoy just as much or even more. Try finding hobbies which will also help you lose weight.

Stop eating fried foods if you intend to lose weight. You can cook tasty, healthy food in other ways. Examples include steaming, poaching, baking, and broiling. If you cook your food using these methods, you can literally cook your way to a slimmer waistline.

When pursuing a weight loss goal, you should always weigh yourself on a regular basis. This can help you see how you're doing. Record how much progress you have made in a journal. People who keep track of it have better results.

Monitor your calories. This will ensure that you know exactly what you are eating. This will provide you with the information to know if you can eat more or if you have reached your calorie intake for the day. You can do this with a regular notepad or make a spreadsheet on your computer.

Believe it or not, you have to consume fats to burn fat. There are a number of fats that are good for you, which include the various Omega fats. They are, however, not found in junk foods. However, these fatty acids that you can obtain from legumes and fish, nourish the cardiovascular system while cholesterol, both of which can aid weight loss.

These tips are all related because they will help you reach your weight-loss goals. There is no single secret to weight-loss. There are lots of little things you can do to lose some pounds. personal trainer wynwood Give a few of them a try and start creating the new you today.

Confused About Hair Care? Use These Tips!

One of the best ways to improve your appearance is to have great-looking hair. Your hair is one of the very first things others notice about you, and beautiful hair can distract people from other flaws. But how do you the kind of hair people can't help but compliment? Keep reading to find out.

A handy tip to leave you with hair that contains no knots is to comb the conditioner through your hair with a wide-toothed comb when you are applying your conditioning treatment. This will ensure the product is spread through the hair evenly, while removing any tangles you may have at the same time.

If you can, try not to blow dry your hair too often and do not color your hair frequently. Both of these can cause your hair to dry out, damaging it in the process. If these products have already dried your hair out, you can use coconut oil twice a week to add moisture.

Don't use your bristle hairbrush on wet hair. Always use a comb or pick on your beautiful wet tresses. A hairbrush encourages breakage and split ends. Just lightly towel dry your hair and remove tangles by gently combing through your hair with a wide-toothed comb, or even your fingers. Allow to air dry whenever possible to minimize heat damage.

While friends may be an easy source for help with your hair care, make it a point to visit a professional, regularly. Though the intent of friends or acquaintances may be well-intentioned, mistakes can happen, and will often cost more to correct, than what a professional beautician would have cost you, in the first place.

Avoid blow-drying your hair after your shampoo. Extreme heat can damage your hair shaft and cause your hair to dry out. Brittle hair will break easily. Instead, after you shampoo, dry your hair gently with a soft towel, and allow your hair to air dry naturally. This will help your hair to retain its natural oils.

If you have dandruff, try using a mild shampoo. Wash your hair as often as possible and make sure that you massage your scalp. If this does not work, get an anti-dandruff shampoo. You should also look for bad habits you should get rid of, such as, not getting enough sleep.

Choosing your shampoo and conditioner can seem overwhelming. Manufacturers spend a great deal of time and money coming up with formulas for particular hair types. Use the labels on the bottles to find the products that match your hair type. Match your conditioner to your shampoo and try different brands, if you are unhappy with the results that you get.

Hair products that you use to make your hair look nice can be doing more damage than you think. As you choose your products, avoid the ones that contain any alcohol. The alcohol will dry your hair out quickly. These products could also dry out your scalp, so avoid any contact with the scalp.

A healthy diet will show in your hair. If you eat a diet high in fat and cholesterol, your hair may appear dull and lifeless. For healthier hair, a well-balanced diet is best. Eat food that is low in fat and cholesterol, and high in anti-oxidants, protein, vitamins and minerals.

Use blow-dryers with caution. Blow-drying can be harsh on your hair, so if you must use one, make sure you are using it correctly. Always aim the dryer so that the nozzle points down the shaft of your hair, away from your scalp. Use a round brush to isolate individual sections of your hair for drying, and use the cool setting to set your hair when you are done.

Try not to stay under the water the whole time you are showering. Doing this can remove your hair of natural oils your scalp makes. As a result, your scalp's appearance can be harmed. If you want to get your hair clean while keeping it healthy, make your showers quick.

Hairstyles

Take care with brushing your hair if it is still wet. While hair is wet, it is weaker and more susceptible to tension and breakage. Allow most of the moisture to leave your hair before you begin brushing. Also, avoid creating too much tension on your locks from hairstyles that increase breakage over time, such as cornrows or high-tension braiding.

Hairstyle

A soft, smooth pillowcase can help you keep your hairstyle, as well as, your hair. Sleeping on a pillow covered in a textured fabric or low-thread count cotton pillowcase can actually pull your hair and cause it to fall out. Use a smooth pillow-covering, wherever you lay your head and help keep your hair where it belongs.

If your hair looks great, you'll look and feel amazing too. That's why it's so important to put real time and effort into your hair. Now that you've read these suggestions, you know what it takes to make your hair look beautiful. You just need to put the advice into practice.

Confused By Fashion? Here's What You Should Know!

Fashion seems to be different for everyone, Short hairstyles yet some people still seem to set the pace. Have you ever wondered how you could approach fashion in a whole new light. The internet is a great resource for you in this time of need. Consider the following helpful tips regarding fashion.

You are going to want to talk to your friends and coworkers about how you dress. They can help you figure out what you are doing that works, and what you might want to change about how you dress. Since they see you every day, they can be the ones you go to for advice.

If you have patches of gray in your hair, consider using a semipermanent dye. The gray will appear to be the same color as the rest of your hair and will last about two months. While you can't really lighten your hair with this tactic, you can choose to darken your locks if you want.

In order to make sure that you can fit into the latest fashion trends you are going to want to make sure that you are as slim as possible. Diet and exercise so you don't feel embarrassed because you can't fit into some of the latest trends that this season's fashion has to offer you.

A good fashion tip is to learn how to develop your own sense of style. You don't want to just mimic somebody else and copy their style. Think of what's important to you such as comfort or flair, and then slowly build on that so that your fashion sense is unique to you.

Accentuate the positive. Look for items of clothing that show off your attributes. If you have a great waistline, look for clothing that features an embellished mid-line or add an attractive belt. If have a great neckline, draw the eye in that direction with a fancy collar or fun necklace.

If you notice your nail polish is becoming too thick, do not despair. Try adding a few drops of acetone based polish remover into the bottle. Shake, and check the consistency. Continue to do this until it is useable again. You will extend the use of your polish, and save money in the process.

Save money by shopping online. If you are a fashionista on a budget, check online before you splurge on your wardrobe. There are websites dedicated to deals and coupons that can save you serious cash on clothes by your favorite designers. Shopping online also gives you an easy way to compare prices and ensure you are getting the most bang for your fashion buck.

Buy outfits that promote an hour-glass figure. No matter what the decade, that feminine outline is classic and always fashionable. This is why actresses like Marilyn Monroe are still considered beautiful even with the new model trend toward long and lanky women. Curves are always in as it implies femininity and fertility.

Do not be afraid to be unique. Although high school beats into our heads that everyone should be the same, the truth is that being unique is vital for success in any area. Lady Gaga is a prime example. Uniqueness is a good thing. You should never try to hide it.

Find the right balance between fashionable and comfortable. Pain doesn't have to equal beauty. Just because a pair of shoes or a lacy dress are aesthetically pleasing doesn't mean you should wear them. Don't just check to see if something fits. Before you spend any money, try to determine whether you will be able to wear what you are buying for extended periods of time.

Buy the right size clothing. Too many women wear shirts, skirts, and even bras that are too tight. This is very unflattering. Buying clothing that fits right will have you looking your best. It will also allow you to breathe and be comfortable in what you're wearing. Part of being fashionable is being at ease with your choices.

Although it may have been popular years ago, wearing clothing that does not match is not in style anymore. Whether you are wearing jeans and a top, a suit, or a skirt and shirt, be sure the top and bottom match. The same goes for the accessories you choose to wear.

Many people are under the impression that bright colors should only be worn in the spring and summer; this is not true. It is perfectly fine to wear brighter colors in the winter; it is just a matter of how you wear them. While bright sweaters are fine, bright pants are not!

You may not think so, but fashion is about keeping an open mind and allowing yourself to figure out more of who you are. There are many helpful resources to help you find out more about fashion. Remember the tips and advice you've read here as you work your way towards better fashion.

Fashion Tips For The Modern Person

You never thought you would find fashion Mehndi Design sense online in an article did you? Well you are going to figure out a lot about fashion, and you are going to feel good about the subject of fashion after today. This is why this article was designed, to help boost your confidence level when it comes to fashion.

If you have thick or very curly hair, using a gel product will help you to create the style you desire. Work the product into towel-dried hair and then style it as you want. You can allow it to dry naturally, or use a hair drier. This is especially helpful in humid weather.

Your beauty kit does not need an overabundance of makeup in it. Pick products in some seasonally appropriate colors that you like. Think about what you need for day versus night. Makeup, like many other products, can go bad once open. Bacteria can also form over time.

Be sure that you are being strategic when choosing how much skin you want to show. This is important because you need to be sure that you are not going past what is considered tasteful when it comes to the amount of coverage you have. A great way to judge this is to accentuate just one feature of your body.

If your hair tends to frizz out of control, avoid rubbing it dry with a towel after you wash it. This causes damage to your hair, making it more likely to frizz. Try wrapping it in the towel and pushing it to absorb the moisture instead. After a few minutes, you can remove the towel and finish drying with a hair dryer, or you can just comb it out.

Use your accessories to add color to your outfit. This is a great tip if you happen to have a large stock of earth tones or blacks and whites. Get a bright-colored tie, purse, or shoes depending on who you are and what fits you. It is a great way to stand out without having to be very brave.

Don't make fashion impulse buys. When you buy on impulse, you often make bad choices. The clothing may not fit as well as you hoped, or it doesn't truly work with anything in your closet. Before making the buy ask yourself if you really need it, and if you have items that can compliment it.

Avoid mom jeans! Aging is going to happen; however, your fashion sense does not need to age as well; it just needs to evolve. Incorporating extra, unnecessary denim, does nothing for your look. The key is to have jeans that fit at the waist, and accent areas that you are proud of.

One great fashion tip to try out is throwing on a scarf. This is a great tip because the scarf can almost be considered the ultimate add-on due to the amount of color combinations as well as how easy it is to put one on. They are also extremely portable.

When shopping for vintage clothing, don't make assumptions based on the size on the tag. A size 8 in the 1950s fits differently than a modern size 8, so save yourself some disappointments by always trying items on before buying them. Once you get a feel for how sizes have changed through the decades, you will have a better idea of what to look for.

You may like following fashion rules, but it's always nice to try new experiments. Without trying a look yourself, you'll never know whether it looks good on you. You should mix and match your clothes to try out different styles, colors and materials. This is a good way to put together a very personal outfit that reflects your personality.

An early fashion tip for you: quilted fabrics are making a comeback and will be in style this fall. You can find all types of clothing made from this fabric. While these items are not meant to be form-fitting, but careful of how you wear them so that you don't appear large.

You should have a minimum of three handbags in your wardrobe. The first handbag should be a standard, a leather handbag with classic lines for everyday wear. The next handbag should be a large tote-style handbag to use on those casual days when you need to grab and go. You should also have a small clutch for those special occasions.

When wearing shorts, make sure you can not see your socks. Kindergarteners can get away with this, but not an adult. Keep your socks cut to the ankle and your embarrassment under wraps.

From here on out it shouldn't be hard for you to figure out how to dress well any time of the year. Fashion is a big thing these days because of how much people look and judge you based on what you wear. Good luck with your fashion in the following years.

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