#on one hand i get two short days per week but the other three days (including monday) will be extra long

[lizard-dumbass]

Fuck this. My new school schedule sucks ass i hate it so fucking much

[2n1ghts]

❝let me take care of you, baby.❞ ❥︎ collegebf!eren x reader

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

synopsis: it was nearing finals, and you avoided your boyfriend— eren—like the plague. and boy, was he was worried for you. your normally cheerful demeanor dwindled to something snarky, something avoidant. all you did nowadays was study till your brain rotted, and it made you a bitter person. he was waiting for the day you'd collapse, and the moment you did, it was worse than he expected. good thing he was there to take care of you. to pamper you because you were his baby.

*contains suggestive content!! advise against reading if you're under 17. minors will be blocked, so please dni if you're one!

key: e/c -> eye color

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

hey y'all!! 💌

again, not sure how the whole tumblr thing works. i'm experimenting and trying out writing for fun, so please be kind. i was pretty out of it when i wrote this, so ignore any typos or inconsistencies. also, bear with our y/n. she's crafted this way for a reason.

it's my first time writing a short fic/drabble, and i did this as more of an experiment. i welcome feedback but please be kind with your words. i am just learning and finding out what works for me.

anyways, hope you enjoy lovelies!

best,

~ nene

The past few weeks had been a living hell.

Not because of the finals nearing round the corner, or because of the two hours of sleep you were getting per night; not because of the crude professors who made it their life mission to assign a million projects when the quarter was about to end; not because of your parents who did not give two shits about your mental health.

It was the distance you were maintaining with Eren that made it the hardest.

He was worried for you. You could tell by the way his eyebrows would furrow when you would decline yet another plea to relax, or the way his eyes conceringly flitted to your scrunched posture whenever you'd cuss at yourself, or the way he would gently, tenderly... remove your hands that tended to roughly rake through your hair when anxious.

Your breaking point was nearing, and he was holding himself back from embracing you right then and there. He was not one to interfere, but he wanted to take care of you, to ease the burden off your shoulders and reassure you that your studying would amount to great achievements. But he didn't know how to reach you. You were so caught up in your bubble of self-sabotage and pressure that you shut the rest of the world out, including him.

But he didn't want to be "the rest of the world." He would wallow in your bubble too, only if you'd let him in.

"Fucking deratives will be the end of me," he heard you seethe from your position on his gaming chair. The both of you were currently cooped up in his room, with him scrolling through TikTok and occasionally glancing at you while you revised and revised till your eyes were sore.

Eren's roommate flew out, which left the place to himself. He lured you here stating it would be better to study at his place with "no distractions" compared to your apartment with Hitch, who was quite the gossip and hinderance.

As you highlighted yet another section, you felt his eyes raking down your figure.

You were engulfed in his oversized grey hoodie, wearing nothing but a flimsy cotton bra and matching underwear underneath. Your hair was messily thrown up in a bun, a few strands tickling your forehead here and there, to which you frustratedly blew from your periphery. Lilac crescents embedded themselves into your under-eyes, followed with bags entailing sleep deprivation. One bare leg was propped up as you rested your chin on your knee and swung the other absentmindedly.

If you didn't stop studying now, you'd collapse from exhaustion. Three hours had passed by nonstop. You hadn't even drank water.

"Y/n," he called out gently.

You ignored him, but he knew you heard him because of that cute forehead scrunch you just did.

"Y/n," he called, this time a bit louder. Once again, that damn scrunch, but no verbal acknowledgement.

"Y/n!" he tried for the third time. You furrowed your eyebrows, scowling. Your slender finger pressed into your plump lips, a gesture made to silence him.

Leaving his position on the bed, he strided over to you. He got onto his knees and gently took ahold of your meandering hands. The callus of his fingers felt textured against your knuckles.

"Why are you ignoring me, babe?"

"I'm not ignoring you," you replied, trying to refocus your attention on your migraine-inducing Calculus textbook. He tried not to flinch at you shutting him out for the nth time this week.

It hurt him whenever you tried drowning him out like he was a petty distraction.

Because he wasn't to be discarded. He was your boyfriend, and he promised to always be there for you, so why wouldn't you just confide in him?

"I called for you three times, Y/n," he stated calmly. Letting go of one of your hands, he gently drew circles on your knee with the pad of his thumb, hoping it'd soothe your nerves. Goosebumps littered your skin at the gesture.

"Can't you see I'm studying, Ren? I can't talk right now." Overstimulated and tired, you weren't in the mood to converse. In fact, you weren't in the mood to do anything. All you wanted to do was collapse onto your sheets and fall into a hundred-year slumber, but unfortunately, finals exist to give you enough of a reality check.

"You are working so hard, so take a break, please," he pleaded yet again.

He'd beg if it meant you'd prioritize your health. He cared more about you than his ego. That's why he always rebounded with a gentle demeanor, even if you were rude and snarky. He knew your brash attitude wasn't your fault. You just didn't function well under stress.

The unfiltered truth was, you weren't used to the princess treatment Eren offered. As a child, you had gotten used to your parents' nagging. Sleepless nights became routine if it meant you'd score straight A's. It had been like this all throughout high school.

Until you met Eren.

He prioritized you first, always, and taught you to do the same. It was sort of... a culture shock to you, a difficult adjustment. You needed time getting accustomed to this novel way of thinking, and luckily Eren was understanding.

Couldn't say your self-sabotage wasn't eating away at him, though.

"And you need to take a break from badgering me. I'm perfectly fine," you snarked. Your eyes broke contact with his, gaze landing once again on the textbook to your left.

Angling your chair, you turned your body away from him, trying to focus on the task at hand. You couldn't bear to look at him because you knew he was right. If you gave in, you would stop studying. If you stopped studying, you'd catastrophically fail, which could not happen.

With a frustrated sigh, Eren swiftly snagged your textbook and threw it behind him. It collided with the mattress with a large 'thud.' You gasped as he grabbed the edge of your chair, turning it towards him.

"You're not getting that textbook until you eat and drink something," he asserted, a layer of seriousness washing over his green eyes.

"What the hell, Eren? Give it back!" You shrieked.

"You heard the conditions."

"Eren, this is serious. I don't have time to play games right now. Please... give it back."

"Who said I'm playing games, Y/n? The only reason I'm doing this is because you're being negligent towards yourself."

"Okay, well that's my problem. Who are you to interfere?" You countered.

"Hey, I'm not trying to be your mom or anything. As your boyfriend, I care about you. It's just a glass of water and a snack, Y/n. Do it for yourself. You deserve a break."

You started panicking. An uneasy feeling sprawled up your stomach as your hands got clammy. "No! You don't understand."

"Then enlighten me, babe. I'm right here."

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the chair, trying not to cringe at the weird noise emitted from the leather upon loss of contact with your skin. You reached forward to grab your textbook off the mattress, but Eren was faster. He took ahold of your wrist and lowered it.

You grunted in frustration. "I—I need to study, Ren. Badly. My career and future depend on it. These are hard subjects. I need hours and hours of studying to ace these exams. You don't get it."

He doesn't reply, continuing to look at you sternly and not budging. Your nerves were skyrocketing. What was his deal? This wasn't the time to be testing your patience. Plus, if he really cared, he'd understand your desperation.

"Okay, whatever sick fun you're trying to derive out of this isn't cool," you deadpanned.

You tried pulling your wrist out of his grip, but he required little to no effort to keep you at bay, simply planting his feet further into the ground when you tried shoving him. Your e/c-eyed stare pierced him like daggers, but his resolve was impenetrable.

God, what a stubborn fuck.

You continued wriggling and squirming to no avail. Your bottom lip began trembling. Liquid pooled at your lashline, threatening to moisten your cheeks with its salty trail.

You broke.

Sniffling, you shoved him repeatedly in the chest. "I hate you. I hate this. I fucking hate college and hate my parents and hate finals and hate this fucked up system that does nothing but capitalize on our stress and hate motherfucking Calculus and professor Ackerman and—"

Moist lips enclosed your own, trapping them tantalizingly. The kiss was brief and sweet. He used it as a way to tranquilize you, gently trapping both of your wrists with his one hand.

"Shh, just let me take care of you, baby," he rasped as he tenderly interlocked his arms under your legs, lifting and placing you on the bed. The mattress felt soft against your spine.

If pamper had a textbook definition, Eren's face would definitely appear in the margin.

[starlostastronaut]

SUNSETS AND BUCKET LISTS

han jisung × reader - fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college au - 1.8k

summary - spending your last day with your best friend before school should be sad, but this time it took an unexpected turn

cw - use of yn?

links - masterlist

so! i'm almost late but, still made it in time. i guess you could call this ji's bday fic (tho there will be more sunshine twins content coming soon), but most importantly, happy birthday katsy!! ( @catiuskaa ) this one is for you <3333

and shout out to my mars who saved me several times writing this. not proofread and idk what is that ending, but i hope you like it! <3

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jisung whispered into your ear, his hot breath spilling over your skin, making you shiver and instantly startling you awake. Or mostly awake. Still half asleep, your brain only registered that someone is in very close proximity to you and we do not like that, before your hand tightened on your plushie and you whacked Jisung in the face.

“Ow, what’s that for?” he whined, dramatically holding his palm to the right side of his face. His mischievous grin was replaced by a scowl and he looked at you like you just stole his dog, not simply hit him with a stuffed cat. With your consciousness finally catching up to speed, you realized that it was not an alien coming to abduct you, but it was Han Jisung, your best friend since you were three years old. And he carried the title proudly, always mentioning your sixteen years long friendship to anyone who (did not) care.

“Sorry, Ji, oh my god!” You swiftly rose up on the bed, it was a miracle your head didn't collide with Jisung's as well. “I thought you were, I don't know, a pervert or something.”

“YN,” Jisung sighed. “It's literally just us two and our parents. There's a security system in the house. How would a pervert even get in?”

He was right. Growing up in the same town, just three houses away, your families have known each other very well. It was a tradition that started when you and Jisung were old enough to travel and actually understand a vacation. Your families always rented out the same beach house to spend the last two weeks of summer holiday together.

By now, you knew the place front to back, being able to move around while blinded and you would be just fine. So Jisung was right, but you couldn’t possibly let him have the win so easily.

“I don't know,” you shrugged. “They always find a way?” Jisung gave you an unimpressed look. “Okay, okay. But it's still your fault. You shouldn't have woken me up like a creep.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Jisung rolled his eyes and grabbed your hands, quite literally dragging out of bed and out of the warm comfort of the covers. You hissed and a shiver ran over your skin as your, due to the summer heat barely clothed, body made contact with the cold floor. “Come on, get up, we have so much stuff to do!”

Jisung let go of your hands, bouncing around happily. You shook your head, amazed at the amount of energy he had so early in the morning. Had he eaten just sugar for breakfast?

You slowly stood up, rummaging through the closet for some clothes. “Turn around at least, perv,” you laughed, smacking him over his chest with a shirt. Jisung laughed, but left the room, giving you privacy to change. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you put on the first shorts and shirt you found. It's not like you were going to meet many people so who cares, right? On your way out you grabbed a hoodie too. The summer was in fact nearing its end and the mornings were often chilly. And knowing Jisung, you will have breakfast outside.

As per your prediction, the small outside table was full of food, with Jisung impatiently waiting for you, bouncing his leg and playing with a fork.

After a quick breakfast, Jisung shared his plan for the day. You listen in disbelief, wondering how he wanted to fit all of that into one day. Despite your doubts, you were going to do everything for it to happen though.

This was your last day together. In pursuit of your respective dreams, you and Jisung not only attended different universities, but in different cities too and the distance made it even harder. In order to visit each other, you would have to spend several hours traveling, and that was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You tried, but then a test came up, or a friend's birthday party or Jisung was sick… After three months you gave up trying, resigning to seeing your best friend on Christmas and summer only.

It was hard enough to leave him last year, but you called each other a lot. In the beginning that was. Once you got your bearings and university properly started, you were often so exhausted you fell asleep on the video call. Or didn't call at all, because Jisung forgot to charge his phone in the whirlwind of classes and deadlines.

You never knew it was possible to miss someone so much. Being without Jisung felt like someone was slowly tearing off your limbs. And when you saw him at Christmas, it felt like the puzzle finally found its missing piece. A week later, in your dorm room with friends and soju, some revelations were had, but by the time summer came around, your mind was in a completely different place.

And this time, knowing what kind of year you were up against, letting go of Jisung for another several months suddenly felt impossible. Knowing this shared vacation was coming, both you and Jisung made a list of activities to do and places nearby to visit. But with how excited you both were, you put off checking boxes in favour of lazing around, watching anime, going to the pool and talking for hours.

So there you were, left with a list impossible to complete by the end of today. Yet nothing would deter you from trying.

“I think I'm actually gonna die.” You fell onto your towel, lying motionlessly on the beach. Not even having enough energy to watch the sunset, which you would have taken countless pics of any other day.

By some miracle, you managed to complete Jisung's entire checklist for the day, which left you completely exhausted. You were seriously thinking of asking Jisung to carry you back, because unlike you, he seemed as if powered by the air he breathed - he hadn't run out of energy the whole day.

“Noo, you can't die yet. We still have to check off the paddleboard at the sea,” Jisung said. And there it was, he actually brought the paddleboard down to the beach. You saw it lying next to your things when you sat back up.

“Ji, seriously?” you laughed. “You can't swim? And it's dark.” The idea seemed a little funny and a whole lot crazy. It was one thing to be at the pool, where there was a bottom and a limited amount of water. To go to the wild, open sea, in the dark, and tired after the whole day? k

“Actually… I can. Kinda. Lix taught me,” Jisung admitted. You knew who he was talking about, Jisung wouldn't shut up about his roommate and new best friend Felix, he actually mentioned him in about every conversation he could. It was kind of cute actually. You were worried Jisung would struggle, being an introvert with social anxiety, but Felix waltzed into his life and saved him for you.

“Okay…” Felix teaching him solved one problem at least. But you still didn't feel like it was a good idea. “Ji, do we have to? What if something happens? We're tired, we're alone here…”

Jisung’s shoulders slumped. “Right, yeah you're right. I just had this plan and I wanted to… nevermind.”

That wasn't fair. Now you felt bad. God, why was Jisung so cute? “Maybe we could… I don't know. Put it just by the shore and sit on it?” you suggested, wanting to make Jisung happy. You would do anything to make him happy, even go out on the sea when you thought about it.

Alone together on the beach, the sun setting over the water, the atmosphere was romantic. And thought your brain, because all your feelings that you pushed aside to focus on quality time with Jisung, now came rushing back all at once.

Jisung's face lit up. “Yeah, we can do that. I guess it counts as completing.” You helped Jisung push the paddleboard just behind the first waves, sitting on it with your feet in the water, still in the safe distance to the shore.

You looked over the horizon, the sun reflecting on the water begging to be photographed. “Selca?” you asked. Jisung nodded and leaned closer, posing for the low quality picture. With barely any natural light left, the photo was bound to be blurry and dark, but you always liked that kind of aesthetic anyway.

Feeling daring in the moment, you pressed your lips to Jisung's cheek. Barely, just a few seconds, but enough to capture on your phone.

“YN…” Jisung whispered. If it wasn't so dark, you would see the pink dusting his face.

“Sorry, I just… I just had to,” you said. What did you have to lose anyway? You were leaving tomorrow morning and wouldn't see Jisung for another few months. “I had to know what it feels like,” you whispered.

Jisung lowered his gaze, choosing to look at the waves rather than looking at you. Somehow, the silence was scarier than a rejection of your implied confession.

“Say something Ji, please,” you begged, not knowing how to bear the crushing weight of the silence anymore. You feared what message it carried.

“You crossed the last box for me.”

Before you could ask what it meant, Jisung took out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to you. His checklist of activities for the vacation. When you unfolded the small ball of paper, your eyes skimmed over the completed activities, all the way to the last one.

Kiss YN in some super romantic moment.

“I planned to tell you,” Jisung spoke up. “How I feel. I guess you beat me to it.” He lifted his head to look at you. “I did understand it correctly, right? It wasn't a platonic friend kiss, because Felix sometimes gives me those and if it was then forget everything I said because-”

You surged forward, interrupting his rambling with your lips on his. It was a wonder you didn't fall off the paddleboard, with how much force was used. You felt him freeze and smile, as he slowly kissed you back, overcoming the initial shock and surprise.

And you kissed, until there was no sun in the sky and your parents had to go look at why you took so long. That night, you laid in Jisung's bed, making promises and wishes for the upcoming year, already making plans, determined to not give up this time.

Somehow, coming back to campus and the insanity your university could be sometimes, wasn't as hard as it was last year. This time around, you had something new to look forward to in the darkest moments of endless texts and assignments. You had a boyfriend and a promise to keep. No giving up this time. And you both dutifuly kept it.

Jisungie <3

still alive after that test?

YN <3

barely

i'm dead inside and lonely

my roommate's out this weekend on a family thing

leaving me all alone in this dorm

Jisungie <3

good thing i have no classes this friday

see you then ynnie <3

taglist: @stayconnecteed @hanjsquokka @starseungs @starlostseungmin @ivaneedssleep @143horny-core @lakoya @rylea08 @caitlyn98s @oddracha @sweetbokji @feybin @qwonyoung23 @jiaaabbahng @hope69world @palindrome969 @alicedawitchbish @hyunjinshairband7 @nattisbored @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @kirakombat @kmgfeels @freyjhasdesiredreality @dazzlingjade @boldy-49 @naarmzz @rei-reia @cookiesandcreammy @urfavblondy @chlodavids @armystay89 @btskzfav @vegetablesarefuntables @tearzzuu @ch4nn13luv @kisses-too-the-moon @mellhwang @lolareadsimagines @missmajdastark @drewsandsebastianswife @mitchii @chillichillicrabcrab23 @laniminchanlix @dearly-somber @greyyeti @linosazuna @na-tas-post

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[judesmoonbeauty]

IkeVil Act 2 Prologue Thoughts & Theories

This will contain spoilers, and some 18+ remarks at the end, so MDNI. Please see under the cut. As usual, these are just my thoughts and feelings.This is a word salad. And not that this is important or anything, but I was totally listening to Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake while writing this.

My first thought is: That's it?! With the Act 1 prologue being as long as it is, and even with other IkeSeries games like Pri, I felt it was too short. I was expecting and wanting more. Perhaps, Cybird will release more later, but I doubt it. Seems that they are keeping Vogel underwraps as much as they can. Less is more, maybe that's what they were thinking?

Next: The spotlight is on Vogel (as it should be), since they're apparently debuting with Roger's route. We're excited to meet them, still I didn't like that other than Victor and Harry (with his two lines of actual dialogue), no other Crown members had any lines. Their sprites just pop up (sans William because he's away per Victor), to show that they were present. Where is that amazing stare-off that went down in Roger's PV?

Tell me this wasn't it! Hopefully, we get more of their first meeting within the first chapter of each of their main stories. Which leads me to......

When Act 2 Takes Place: It takes place a week after Kate's tenure of being the Fairytale Keeper begins, and honestly, I LOVE that. We need a change of pace. Now, don’t get me twisted, there's nothing wrong with seeing her start her journey from the very beginning, but consider:

Act 2 is supposed to delve deeper into the topic of the Curse itself from what I understand. If that's the case, we need to move things along. It would make storytelling easier (I feel), if Kate has already spent a week with the villains and isn't completely ignorant about curses.

Also, we're moving further along in the routes, which tend to become progressively darker with each route passing (my opinion), not starting from the day after she arrives at the Castle will allow the writers to delve deeper into things, and give us more chapters for - hopefully - more lore.

I mean when Roger's route finally releases, I'd expect maybe some flashbacks in chapter one of the night after Kate bumps into them on their mission, and then she agrees to be his assistant. I don't personally want an entire chapter or three of that, and I would love to see Kate already with a week's worth of experience of working with Jude & Ellis (when Jude's route releases). I want her to be someone who is already capable, not stumbling around with (How do I prove myself?), we already know how she needs to do this, as she's demonstrated in their events. Let's skip that and get to the good stuff. Now about the new meat on the market.....

Darius: Well, we all know that we can't trust him, and he's super interested in William for some reason. I'd love to see that meeting happen. His disappointed face made me chuckle when he was told that William was away, and you can clearly tell that he isn't a fan of Victor. WHY?? Is it the scones? Is it because Victor keeps his precious Cursed babies safe from those who may try to destroy his family? Can't wait for the explanation, because as Victor has said in the past, he doesn't want his time with Crown to end, and Darius seems like the one who is going to end it. I know Darius hasn't done anything yet, but I feel like I need to say this: Don't be mean to Vivi!

He seems to be focused on recruiting other cursed members into his "family", and his vision of the cursed and non-cursed joing hands together and work alongside each other (so he says).

He seems to be the big-bad (Gilbert tragic backstory vibes from this one?), I could be wrong, but that's what my gut tells me. I mean they all have one, but I feel like his is going to be twisted. A type that I am weak for.....so I am trying not to look at him at all.

Anyways....He's certainly angelic looking, and because he's wearing such an obviously painted smile, I would like to see him irked (not that I hate his character or anything), I just think it'd be funny as hell to see a blood vessel pop up on his forehead.

Nica: Right, Nica is gorgeous and he is the one I look forward to the most out of the three. His sprite has teeth when it's a full smile (congrats, my man), and a part from him making a comment that he's happy that Kate is present because he doesn't want to be stuck with a bunch of guys, he's very sharp.

He discerned by himself the real reason why she was at the castle. Also, he seems to love money and power....my other weaknesses are men who enjoy those things (stares at Jude & Silvio).....he doesn't seem to have a tyrant attitude, but I look forward to learning more about him.

Also, I have a theory I believe he may be involved with Roger's betrayal of Ellis' cursed predecessor. In Roger's main route preview:

Roger: Oh, me and…..this person……We aren’t friends. This person and I are strangers.

Mysterious Youth: ….Thank you. - “That’s enough”. (screen shakes)

Now, this could be Ring, but I think it's Nica also because of the relationship chart. I re-read the relationship chart. .

So, it'll be interesting to see how this plays out and how off I am. On to our darling......

Ring: Beloved, sweet, cold, blunt and Disney Princess Ring. He is the next villain I look forward to the most. I mean, a shared cursed ability with your twin? Moody emo vibes? Adorably quiet and strong? Please, I love him and want to cuddle him. Not to mention that skin-tight, black turtle neck....yummy. A part from this, Ring doesn't seem to like making speculations based on limited information, and I appreciate that about him. I think it's also notable that is very upfront with everyone at Crown, that if they try to harm Vogel, he won't sit quietly. Love a man of action. My question is: Why is he Darius' puppet, but not Nica? Ok, last but not least......

Sprite Designs: As usual, Nana-sensei has incorporated symbolism of their fairytale group into their clothing with lots of sharp edges. Personally, I love her art style over all, I think it's beautiful. Of note, Darius has a feather as his belt buckle and I quite like that. His brooch on his neck is the recognizable symbol of Vogel (seems like a swan's head with feathers to me), and the brooch on his floofy coat looks like the face of a swan staring at me. *Ahem* And I think his little neck window could be bigger....just saying.

Nica & Ring both have identical tassels, although they are different colors. One of their tassels likewise feature the symbol of Vogel, but the other looks like cross-hatch marks(?) Feathers(?). They apparently share the same curse, perhaps it represents their shared cursed since they are connected as twins??

They also share swan-faced holster clasps. The one on Nica holds his gun holster, and Ring's holds a book holster (?).....it looks like a book holster. Is it a book about flowers? I mean, it could be a snack pouch, but really it looks like a book holster to me. Just saying.....

Last, but not least, Nica's rings. My first thought: That's hot as hell. Next thought: Shit it's going to hurt like hell when he fingers Kate. This entire time I've been worried over William's and Jude's long ass fingernails cutting Kate up when they enter her, but this this amount of rings (assuming he doesn't remove them), that's going to scrape her so much inside. They're like a toture device.....wait.....maybe he's a sadist too? Oohh, yay if he is! Either way, he is a fan a jewelry.

Well, that's it. There's a ton more that I could write about, but I'm sleepy and I'm rambling.

[Master Lists]

[bagdaddyb]

Nursery

Summary: You shop for the last item you need in your nursery with your wife.

Pairing: fem!Reader x g!pNatasha

Warnings: None, this is pure fluffy fluffy just a short snippet because I'm feeling soft.

AN: If you're with someone long term, intentions of meeting family and maybe taking it to the next level. And them and their family speak another language at home. Learn that language don't be a dumb American. English is a dumb hard language. Don't assume others speak it take the steps so that you can communicate with them.

You rubbed the swell of your stomach as you walked around the store. The comforting motion having become a habit since you began your third trimester. Your baby was restless as your due date neared and now with just three short weeks left of pregnancy you found yourself eagerly awaiting your childs birth. You couldn't wait to meet the baby you'd grown inside you but you also couldn't wait for your back to have a break and to say a sentence without running out of breath. You stopped in front of a comfortable looking recliner, it was a sage green which would go perfectly with your gender neutral nursery. The gender of your baby to be a surprise per Natasha's request. The chair looked comfortable and you honestly couldn't think of anything better than sitting down. Turning the chair to look at the price you nod while contemplating. Sitting in the chair you let go of an audible sigh your swollen feet thanking you for giving them a break as you visibly relax into the chair your wife who'd stopped when she noticed you hesitating giggles.

"Comfortable lyubov?"

You hum in response hands never leaving your stomach.

"Eto prekrasno, vam ne kazhetsya?" (It's perfect, don't you think?)

Natasha smiles wide at you with those mushy eyes she's had since the first day of your pregnancy.

"Yes it would go great in the corner by the window."

You nod in agreement. Letting out a grunt as you stand Natasha's hand flies to your lower back rubbing in soothing motions as you continue to regard the chair.

"Lets get it."

You decide and Natasha nods eager to fulfill your every wish. After purchasing the chair Natasha loads it into your truck before driving home. You feel bad as Natasha single handedly works the chair in the house but anytime you try to help you are quickly swatted away. Once the chair is inside the nursery you smile happily. The green matching perfectly with the rest of the room. In an instant tears are in your eyes coming down your cheeks in a stream you can't control.

"Stupid hormones."

You grumble as you wipe your face. Natasha smiles kissing your cheeks before placing a light kiss on your lips wrapping her arms around you. You wrap your arms around her neck hand running in her hair as you smile.

"It's beautiful lyubov, I can't wait for this next chapter with you."

Natasha whispers while leaning her forehead against yours.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

You respond embracing this moment. Thanking the universe for the being that is Natasha Romanoff.

"Spill a drink on me while drunk at a bar in New York."

You laugh loudly as Natasha reminds you of how you two met. Not one of your shining moments.

"Mmmmh best girls trip ever."

You kiss Natashs again on the lips softly.

"I love you so much Natasha."

"YA tozhe tebya lyublyu." (I love you too)

[elleloquently]

invisible string [4] : ellie williams

part three

| college!ellie x female!reader - thank you guys so much for patiently (and excitedly) waiting for this update! school is absolutely so busy it's sickening, so it's hard to write as often as i want, but i really want to aim for at least one update per week! writing this chapter was so much fun so please let me know what you think... as always thank you for your love, requests are open, and reblogs and comments are always loved and appreciated! love ya <3 (p.s shout out to a creepy owner irl who inspired part of this fic)

| c/w - anxious reader, swearing, mention of weed, alcohol, men!

studying was very dull compared to texting a pretty girl.

ellie entered your life in a whirlwind, notes filling up your once empty walls and endless texts and pictures cluttering up your phone.

the texts came in slowly at first, maybe a few short conversations every other day, mostly complaining about how much homework the professor of your shared class was packing in before finals week hit. then entered stupid memes, random pictures... and suddenly you were staying up until 3am learning about each other, despite your 8am class.

it had only been a few days, and you knew that you were getting too attached.

it was a feeling that made your stomach sink, the realization of how much your mood improved with a simple text. you were happiest in class, sitting next to ellie, even when your hand cramped from filling out pages of study guides.

sighing, you turned your music up louder and crashed back onto your bed, cushioned by a multitude of throw pillows and blankets. you weren't getting much studying done anyway.

the song grew quiet as your phone chimed, music to your ears.

Zero progress.

attached was a photo of the study guide, the amount of completed questions matching those of your own packet.

you quickly typed out a response to ellie, short and to the point.

literally sickening

it was only a few seconds before she replied:

There goes my weekend!

you replied in agreement before forcing yourself back up to glance over your textbook. you've been lingering on the same chapter for over an hour. if you were truly honest with yourself, you probably only read about two paragraphs... you were distracted.

you hardly had time to even daydream due to how busy you were, but it's not like it mattered. you gaze lingered to the collaboration of drawings made by yourself and ellie, still sticking to the wall. your phone sounded once again, pulling you out of a sleepy daze. figuring it was ellie again, you closed your textbook in an act of resignment.

the smile that appeared once you heard the text notification slowly faded upon closer inspection.

it wasn't ellie. it was a friend, one you admittedly haven't spoken to much as of recent. you hadn't really meant to ghost her, but your schedules didn't really align much. this time of year you were so busy with assignments and work, and she was busy with... well, literally anything else.

her message consisted of only two words, call me. it was short and vague so you immediately obliged, worry taking over your senses.

she answered on the second ring, speaking before you had even opened your mouth.

"please tell me you don't have plans tonight," she urged.

you wince, already preparing an excuse. "i'm studying..." you start. it wasn't a complete lie, you really had been making an effort.

her disappointment is obvious by the way she sighs your name into the phone speaker. "i've barely seen you all semester," she argues.

you start to chip your nail polish on your free hand, holding your phone to your ear with the other one. "what's up?" you ask.

"come out with me tonight? please. you've hardly come out this semester and let's be real, once finals start there's no chance i'll be able to convince you to come out," your friend pleads. her desperation is heavy and you rub at your eyes.

you want to immediately tell her no, but you really hadn't seen her in awhile yet the other day you skipped class for a chance to hangout with someone you hardly even knew. granted, it was ellie, but still.

a pit of guilt planted itself in your stomach, forcing your next words.

"what time?"

yelping in excitment, the girl on the other end of the line gushes out all of the information to you. "i'll pick you up around eleven, okay?"

a rushed end to a quick call, with promises to text more and texting outfit options for the night.

you were nervous about the change of pace. it caused you a strange feeling of obligation, to get out of your bubble and do something different every once in awhile. during college, people were promised four years of finding their forever friends and partying, making the memories that will last their entire lifetime.

you tried to partake, but it felt forced.

with a demanding major and even more demanding coursework, it was hard to maintain friendships by finding the time to actually go out. any spare time you had was replaced with shifts at work.

you felt like you were doing college… wrong.

your music resumed, the volume increasing to drown out any anxious thoughts that would prompt you to cancel last minute.

with no new texts from ellie, you decided to give your study guide one last try.

─ ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ─

by the time you were supposed to get picked up, you were already yawning. you had dedicated the last hour to getting ready and picking an outfit that was deemed cute enough to make you feel good but still comfortable enough that you felt secure.

though it felt like a sleepy time of year, students were nearly restless. the pressures of exams were relieved on weekends, places around the college town open all night for people to blow off steam.

it happened quickly so you didn't have a moment to reconsider or backtrack, a text of 'here!' and shoving your feet into shoes before dashing to meet your friend in the parking lot.

the car ride was a catch up session, your friend talking about her new friends but you made a quick decision not to tell her about ellie. you weren't exactly sure why, but it was almost like you wanted to keep ellie to yourself. you checked your phone mindlessly and couldn't help but feel let down when nothing new presented on your screen.

the streets were alive and busy, girls huddled together to stay warm despite the lack of coats. the outside was an indication of how busy each bar and club would be, warm with heat and bodies packed inside.

you arrived at your friend's favorite establishment, the environment a stark difference from the comfortable evening you were having in your dorm just a few short hours ago. you pressed your way through a thick crowd, hanging loosely onto the arm of your friend so you wouldn't split up.

drinks were overpriced but you ordered one anyway, something to hold onto but you knew you would probably only finish a little more than half of it if you were dedicated enough.

"i'm gonna meet up with some people, my friends and their friends," your friend explained over the music, quickly resulting in your growing concern.

you wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, you always did, but other people getting involved meant you would be inevitably ditched within the hour. the look on your face gave away your feeling and the girl standing opposite of you had a short patience.

"i wish you would've told me," you tried to reason, not wanting to look or sound pathetic.

"it doesn't matter," she shook her head. "they're nice, it'll be fun."

fun.

'fun' ended up being the act of standing awkwardly in the back because they wouldn't make enough room for you in the circle. 'fun' apparently was listening to them tell the same story over and over, yet talk over you every time you tried to speak too.

forced to be a wallflower, you stood with your back against the wall as you observed other people dancing. you could almost be content like this... the music was loud and the lighting was dark. the combination seemed like it would be an anxiety nightmare, but it was actually the opposite. you could stand there, completely unnoticed, hidden by the atmosphere.

you really could've been okay with it, until your eyes were drawn to your friend pointing at you. you stood up straight, thinking she was beckoning over, until you realized exactly what she was doing. she had been dancing with a guy that night, and that guy seemingly had a friend. she was pointing you out to the friend, pushing him to join you. he started walking in your direction and your stomach filled with dread. you didn't want to be in this situation, and you certainly didn't want to make small talk with some guy.

you tried to look busy, quickly pulling out your phone and looking anywhere else. against your silent praying, the guy stood over you.

"hey," he said, leaning too close to your ear and you ducked your head away. he smelled like alcohol and cologne that was sprayed too many times. you tried a polite smile but it came out like a wince.

"can i buy you a drink?"

you answered his question by holding up your cup, hand tightly covering the opening of the top. you had only taken a few sips of it, not able to stand the taste.

"how many?" he pressed, pointing to your cup.

"what?" your face scrunched in confusion.

"how many drinks have you had?" he clarified with a laugh that you didn't return.

"one. this is my first," you informed him flatly.

he made a face like he was pretending to be let down and your stomach turned. "only one? come on girl, you need more than that."

you outwardly groaned, rolling your eyes as you pushed yourself off of the wall. "i'm going to the bathroom. bye."

"want me to hold your drink?" he called after you, agitated and loud.

you ignored him and stepped carefully through the crowd, not wanting to stand too closely to any men or accidently bump any dancing girls. you were hyper focused on the restroom sign and the way the music pounded in your ears, muttering to yourself when you felt a hand wrap around your arm.

you immediately tensed, your blood running cold but your body feeling hot simultaneously. was this guy seriously grabbing you right now?

short tempered and fuming, you loudly spat "fuck off," as you angrily whipped around, only to be met with horrified green eyes, freckles, and auburn hair.

letting go as quickly as she had reached for you, ellie dropped her hand. "shit, sorry, i-"

you quickly cut her off, apologizing profusely.

"ellie, oh my god, i am so sorry," you stressed, heart sinking when she took a step away from you.

"sorry, i really shouldn't have done that," ellie mumbled, wincing. you nearly didn't hear her, the music was too loud.

she had on a loose flannel, unbuttoned down the middle and her converse. you were sure that her horrified expression matched your own, and you wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor.

"i'm so sorry," you repeated. "i thought you were someone else and-"

"i'm sorry, i called your name but-"

you kept talking over each other, rushing awkward apologies. ellie shifted on her feet, her cheeks red.

"sorry," you mentioned again, defeated. "there was this guy, and..."

"a guy," ellie repeated quietly, her expression unreadable.

"yeah," you pushed on, glancing over ellie's shoulder. he was watching you now, remaining where you left him. gross. "i was trying to get away from him and i didn't hear you, i had no idea, i'm so sorry ellie."

she laughed dryly as she recovered but your face still stung with embarrassment. "it's alright," ellie reassured you, turning her head to briefly spot the guy you had glanced at. "are you here with him?" she asked curiously.

you quickly shook your head, rolling your eyes to express your disgust. "no," you emphasized. "i'm here with my friend but... i don't know," you laughed bitterly, finally taking a moment to let it sink in that you had ran into ellie here.

"i don't know why i'm here," you felt the need to say.

ellie nodded with a short laugh. "tell me about it."

you raised an eyebrow but didn't press it, still feeling like you needed to collect yourself. you could stand and talk with ellie forever, but you seriously needed to regroup.

"hey, um, i'm gonna run to the bathroom," you explained.

"come find me when you're done?" ellie offered, green eyes scanning your face. she pointed to an area by the bar, showing you where you could find her.

your nerves didn't stand a chance, overpowered by the overwhelming desire to be close to her. you nodded, your smile genuine for the first time that night.

before you could return on your path to the bathroom, ellie spoke again. "do you want me to hold onto that for you?" she offered, gesturing to the drink in your hand.

"oh, yeah, thanks ellie." you passed it over and she covered the top with her hand automatically, a simple thing that made your heart swell.

"i'll be there, alright?" she guaranteed, her eyes never leaving yours. you nodded once and parted ways, quickly heading to the bathroom.

you dashed for an empty sink, running cold water over your hands as you stared at your reflection. you couldn't figure out why, but you felt weird about running into ellie here. you suddenly wondered who she was here with, or was she here alone?

pushing out a deep breath, you turned off the water and dried them with a paper towel. you felt dizzy, like you were in a state in between sleeping and being awake.

"this," you mumbled to your reflection, "this is why you don't go out."

once you had worked up the courage, you emerged from the bathroom and scanned your surroundings. the girl you came with was dancing with the guys and her friends. feeling secure in the fact that you wouldn't be missed, you went to look for ellie but you didn't have to search for long.

ellie was exactly where she had said she would be, leaning against the bar with her hand protectively covering your drink. she seemed to be keeping an eye out for you because when your eyes locked, she waved you over.

you didn't bother to try and contain your grin as you made your way over, but your confidence was short lived when a pretty girl with dark hair leaned over, talking in ellie's ear.

oh.

whatever the girl said had made ellie laugh, and you faltered in your step. of course she was here with someone. of course she had other friends, (a girlfriend?) other people that she actively talked to and hung out with. you would've been stupid for thinking otherwise, you just hadn't thought about it much.

you didn't want to interrupt, but ellie caught your eye again. she raised her eyebrows, curiously, waiting. taking a deep breath, you pressed on, slowly coming to her side.

ellie handed your cup over and you accepted, taking a drink for courage.

"welcome back," ellie mused, a small smile gracing her lips.

you glanced at the girl standing on the other side of ellie, the liquid in her cup a vibrant color. ellie followed your eyes and made a face of realization, pulling the girl into the conversation.

almost sounding sheepish, she introduced her. "this is my friend dina, and... jesse," ellie craned her neck around but 'jesse' was elsewhere. you nodded anyway, smiling in dina's direction.

"hi, it's nice to meet you," you said, genuinely, despite your heart pounding in your chest.

"likewise! i've heard so much about you," dina replied, eyes bright and smiling.

ellie's eyes widened and your eyebrows shot up, taken aback by dina's introduction. you glanced at ellie but she was already composed.

"really?" you asked, truly surprised.

dina laughed and changed the subject. "jesse complains about coming but yet it's impossible to keep an eye on him," she expresses in response. "it was so nice meeting you," dina smiles at you once more and quickly squeezes ellie's shoulder before disappearing, presumably to find 'jesse.'

you take another drink and ellie clears her throat, music filling the silence. "where's your friend?" ellie questions.

you hum thoughtfully and scan the faces of all of the dancing people until your eyes land on her group. "there," you nod in their direction, trying not to sound bitter.

"are they all your friends? do you want me to go meet them?" ellie asks, watching them for a moment before gazing at you, eyes flickering over your face.

"no," you reply quickly, flatly.

"okay then," ellie laughs, tilting her head to peer at your expression. she brushes a strand of hair out of her face and it's hard not to watch, to not be entranced by every slight movement and expression she makes.

once again, you're thankful for the lighting, or lack thereof, and for the music. for some reason it feels like less pressure, which you appreciate.

"oh god," ellie mumbles, drawing your attention. she wraps her tattooed arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer to her side. your breath hitches and you tense up, but her arm is then back by her side, the ghost of her touch electrocuting your senses. "watch out," she says, nodding to an older man making his way to the bar.

your eyebrows draw together in confusion as ellie watches the man in disgust, but you're more focused on the fact that her arm was just around you for about three seconds.

you take a slow drink, watching as the man leans down to talk to several girls crowded around the bar. it seems nearly harmless though a little odd, he's definitely the oldest person in the room as everyone else is college aged. you turn to ellie, confused, but she nudges your arm to keep watching.

he puts his arms around the girls, his hands going way too low, signaling the bartender to give them drinks with a flick of his hand.

you face ellie, eyes wide and mouth agape. she nods in disgust, but slightly amused at your expression.

"he's the owner," she explains. "he's so gross... people flirt with him because if he likes you, you're set with free drinks. he's just... gross."

"why are you here?" you question, frowning.

"dina likes to dance," ellie says simply.

"and you?"

"no," ellie laughs quickly.

"i definitely wasn't expecting to run into you here," you admit, running your finger along the rim of your plastic cup.

"yeah? i wasn't expecting you either." ellie watches you carefully, thoughtful in expression but casual in demeanor.

"excuse me ladies," a gruff voice cuts through. you snap your head up and meet the eyes of the owner, chewing your bottom lip nervously as his eyes drag across you and ellie. he contemplates ellie for a moment before setting his gaze on you, frowning.

"aren't you warm in that, sweetheart?" he slurs out, indicating to the sweater you're wearing. ellie places a gentle hand on your shoulder, making a face at the man from over your shoulder.

"i'm just fine," you remark.

he doesn't like your answer, but you didn't say anything rude so he can't lecture you. he stares at you, unmoving, and decides to give you one last chance.

"what're you drinking there?" he questions, shuffling closer to get a better look. he makes like he's expecting you to bat your eyelashes at him, and ellie tugs you backwards into her.

"let's go dance," she murmurs into your ear. your face gets hot and her hands are on your shoulders, walking behind you and guiding you away from the bar. you leave your drink on the counter, unwanted.

once you're far enough away, she gently halts you to a stop. your skin is burning from the contact and you turn to face her, trying to be lighthearted. "i thought you don't like to dance?"

the corners of her mouth turn up and you give in, absolutely folding in her presence. you leave about a foot of space in between your bodies, but loosely and awkwardly wrap your arms around her shoulders. it makes ellie nervously laugh, and she hesitates before carefully placing her hands at your waist. it's your turn to laugh now, fully aware of how ridiculous you must look. you obnoxiously sway to the side, putting your weight onto one foot and then the other, threatening to make each other fall over with the abrupt movements. it's a stark contrast to the way everyone else is moving to the music, but you're both genuinely laughing so you leave it be.

you can see your previous group in the corner of your eye and nerves wash over you again, feeling shy at ellie's playful touch. suddenly you feel guilty for harboring a secret crush on the girl, feeling as if you've crossed some sort of boundary. you steady yourself but it's hard to breathe with ellie so close, staring at your eyes and your lips and your eyes again... or did you imagine it? obviously not, but certainly you're reading into it? making something out of nothing?

ellie coughs, flustered. you both stop 'dancing,' dropping your arms and facing each other straight on.

"hey," you say, your face scrunching in confusion, "i thought you were working on the study guide tonight."

your comment makes ellie recover and she breathes out a laugh in surprise, even though you were being serious.

"i thought you were working on the study guide tonight."

you frown and ellie rolls her eyes, shaking her head at you in pretend disappointment. "work on it with me tomorrow then," she tells you, nearly surprising herself with how quickly it came out.

her voice is like honey, making it impossible to pull away from her, even mentally.

"really?" you eye her suspiciously.

she nods and shrugs, and you promise to think it over. standing this close to ellie felt dangerous to the small amount of confidence you tried to build up. she smelled almost earthy, a warm deep scent, maybe a touch of vanilla and... weed?

a hand brushed your waist but it wasn't ellie's, the body stepping into view. the guy from earlier that your friend had sent over came around to stand next to ellie, his eyelids heavy.

"what the fuck, dude?" ellie questioned sharply.

"i was watching you dance," he mused, glancing at you and then ellie. it was hardly even dancing, you were just making each other laugh, so your skin crawled with the idea of that guy watching with ill intent.

"okay, go watch someone else," ellie shot back, her tongue sharp.

you glanced around, catching sight of your friend from earlier. she was watching the interaction, as if it were encouraged, and gave you a thumbs up. you exhaled in disbelief, turning your attention back to ellie. she was staring the guy down, brows furrowed.

"you ladies wanna dance with me or what?" he was cocky, drunk, and standing way too close.

"fuck off," ellie spat, a lot like how you did earlier when you thought that he was the one who grabbed your arm.

he stood in disbelief, unmoving, so you grabbed ellie's hand and dragged her away.

"they should be banned from public places," you grumble. ellie snorts, features immediately softening as she turns to you.

"this is ridiculous. do you wanna get out of here?"

at her proposition, your heart leaps. you definitely do, but the idea terrifies you nonetheless. despite yourself, you automatically nod.

"let me go find dina and jesse, see if they're gonna leave or stick around longer. wanna come with?"

you almost say yes but shake your head instead. "i should go tell the person i came with that i'm leaving, just in case."

ellie nods in understanding. she starts to turn away but stops short, eyes boring into your own. "meet me right by the entrance, okay? i'll be quick."

it's your turn to signal your understanding now, and you head back through the crowd to find your... friend. it's pretty easy to spot her but not to gain her attention.

"hey. hey, i'm gonna go, alright?"

she whips around at you, confused. "you're leaving?"

"yeah."

"are you gonna be safe?"

despite being ignored and ambushed with a creepy guy, you smile at her concern. it's the bare minimum, really, but it's appreciated.

"yeah," you repeat. "it's... a friend from class. she's good. safe," you express.

you say your goodbyes and head straight for the doors like you agreed with ellie. you’re only waiting alone for a moment before she joins you, car keys in hand. dina and jesse aren’t following, and instantly you feel like an idiot.

“oh my god, ellie, i totally sabotaged your night.”

“what? no you didn’t,” ellie disagrees.

you push through the doors together, greeted by harsh winds. the cold evening air was shocking as it hit your face, self doubt washing over you.

"you were just trying to have a fun night with your friends and i... i'm such an idiot," you mutter.

"whoa, hey, you're alright," ellie presses softly. she stops walking to look at you, but looks as though she has to work up the courage before she continues speaking. "i'm glad you here were, alright? dina and jesse are fine."

your face is burning and she hesitates again, but the worry expressed on your face causes ellie to continue on.

"honestly i was getting ready to leave before i saw you," she admits, looking in any direction away from you.

you beg and plead with yourself not to read into it, but why did she hesitate? why would you be nervous to tell that to someone who's just a friend? are you reading too much into it, or are you friendzoning yourself?

"ellie," you breathe, and she finally brings her attention back to you. the wind howls through the night, whipping your hair across your cheeks. your heart beats quicker but ellie grows reserved, adjusting her weight on her feet.

"i'll drive you to your dorm," she tells you as she beings walking once more. you quickly follow behind, in a trance of wondering and wanting.

it felt different from before, different from sitting next to her in class and different from studying together. what was usually light hearted jokes and easy conversation was replaced by a thick cloud of nerves, a tension that conjured itself out of nowhere and you desperately wanted to crack a joke but you felt shy.

you were texting a lot lately, you had some serious late night conversations about your families, stressors, lives, anything to get to know each other but this was different. ellie seemed almost solemn now, guarded, and you were worried that you had gotten too comfortable too quickly.

you worried as you walked to the car and you worried as she drove. ellie did exactly as she said she would and you arrived safely to your building, but your feet were glued to the ground as you reached the door and you desperately wanted to selfishly stay with her, just a little longer.

"thanks for pretty much saving me tonight," you stated earnestly. "it sucked before you found me, i'm glad you did."

ellie's smile was crooked and sincere and a wave of relief washed over you. "see you tomorrow?" she asked, her eyebrows drawing up to her forehead.

"the study guide will be completed," you affirm, grinning back at the auburn haired girl.

you heave open the door to your building and ellie steps back to the car, but you call after her one final time. "text me when you're home safe," you urge her, and you can't see the smile that graces her face.

"i will," ellie promises, and she did.

after cleaning up you fall into bed, exhausted, but your mind is racing. you turn to your side, facing the wall that is decorated with two sticky notes. you lightly trace ellie's drawings with your finger, willing yourself to go to sleep so you won't be absolutely miserable with a lack of sleep by the morning.

you were seeing her again, tomorrow, and nothing else at that moment mattered.

not your endless piles of homework, or the way you were ditched tonight. not the fact that the weather was getting colder by the day and you still couldn't find your earmuffs, or that one of your finals was going to take place at 7am.

nothing else mattered... just ellie.

[ part five ]

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XVII. “orientation”

parts: previous / next

plot: back in the godforsaken city, you attend orientation and set up your new apartment.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+

words: 2.3k

It could've been the sun blasting from your windows waking you up, but you lived in Gotham—instead it was the sound of shouting and piercing whoops with a sprinkle of taxi honks that made you rub the crust off your eyes. Mar was already awake and stood impatiently by the door. She looked up at you and grinned when she saw you sit up. "I ordered some donuts for us, figured you might wanna eat."

She almost looked like a little dog waiting to be let out; she was short with dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes, rearing to get out the door and feel some adventure. Huh. She reminds me of a cocker-spaniel. The clock read 11:05, and you jumped out of bed to get in the shower. You thanked her for ordering them before rushing to get your body clean. The water in the W’s shower was absolutely scalding, and it reminded you of another inequality in the city—only the rich people got fast-heating water. You cringed as you put the hotel shampoo and conditioner in your hair, then fought with the hair dryer that was too closely connected to the wall, and stepped out to Mar's lap covered in powdered sugar. "Here! I saved you these."

Since you signed everything virtually, Mar insisted on taking your bags to your new apartment for you. Much to your chagrin (you were feeling strangely jet-lagged from the day before) she was being convincing. "Just let me take them so you don't have to worry while you're at orientation. That's rent you're wasting!"

"I don't have a bed, I don't have anything to even sleep on in there yet, Mar." You shoved your arms through a sweater and pulled up your trousers.

"Won't they be giving you that welcome stipend or whatever today? How long is orientation?" Mar was always ready to get things moving, and you vacillated between appreciation and admonition.

"I mean I think so, and it's only until three." You furrowed your brow. "Maybe we could go to Target after and pick out some stuff?"

She clapped her hands and squealed. "Mmhm, perfect. Meet me at Jonson Street Target at 3:30?"

In the taxi to GU, you emailed her the information and messaged the apartment about a guest coming to get your things set up. You arrived at 11:58 and rushed to the Challey building, arriving sweaty and out of breath but on time. Dr. Vry was wearing a black velvet (?) sweater with a leather skirt, and had bright red lipstick. Her gray hair was up in a ponytail that sent a wash of neroli-scented air your way. "My protégé!" She wrapped you in a hug and led you by the elbow down the hallway to her office. Why does she keep calling me that? I didn't even get the interview with her billionaire.

"I'll be here. You dear, will be down the hallway just so." She pointed a few doors down to a vacant room with a sturdy desk and chair. You could've sworn it used to be a study room, and even pictured you and Mar studying for an exam there on class conflicts and inequalities.

The orientation was lackluster, but you hadn't expected much anyway. The doors creaked just as much, the cobwebs were still very much present, and the hallways were completely devoid of life. Your position was extremely straightforward: come in at least 8 hours a week to be available for any clerical work she had, and the other seven would be used up at weekly city hall meetings (two hours) and remote work. She took you down to the print room to meet one other lonely soul, Bridgit, explaining that you would bring your column to her by the end of the workday Thursday for printing. "The only thing you have to worry about is writing about whatever is happening at the meetings per week. And staying below the fifteen-hundred word count of course." She laughed like it was supposed to be funny and you and Bridgit followed suit.

By 2:30 you had completely exhausted even your boss's endless capacity for conversation, and she sent you on your way. Right as she was going to shut the door to her office you remembered the check. "Oh, Dr. Vry, the uh, I'm sorry, was I supposed to receive the initial payment today?"

She laughed again and shook her head. She waved her hand in dismissal only someone with six figures in their savings could manage. "It will be mailed to your new apartment by the end of the week." She smiled at you and shut the door. You held your raincoat limply in your hands. You only had twenty dollars in your account.

You got a taxi back to the W. 2:45. You went to the front desk and prayed this would work. "Hi, when I scheduled online I booked out through the end of the week but I don't need the room anymore. Can I cancel and get a refund?"

"Name?"

You told him and he clicked away. "Room 208?"

"Yes." You sat your hands on the edge of the desk behind a row of pens and flyers. There was a children's play at a private school close by. The Muppets. You wondered how they would accomplish that.

"Card ending in 5620?"

Fuck. "Oh I'm sorry, that card doesn't work anymore. Is there any way to get cash?" You bit your cheek to keep the anxiety at bay.

He shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry, but we have to... well, I could..." The man leaned into a mic nearby. "Manger to the front desk please."

A lady with a plastic smile arrived swiftly. Her eyes met yours with a blank, wide stare. "How can I help you?"

"She says the card she booked with doesn't work anymore and wants a cash refund."

"Oh, was there a problem with your stay?" Her teeth were blindingly white and ridiculously straight. You nearly had to squint back at her.

"No no, I just don't need it anymore." You gripped the edge of the desk hard barely out of their gaze. Please please please. The manager clicked a few buttons on the computer and scanned her badge. She flashed another beaming smile at you before skirting away. After what seemed like an hour but was likely only a few minutes, the manager entered. “Yes ma’am.” After a very tense nod, the desk clerk opened the register and began counting hundreds. "One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four hundred, five hundred, six hundred, seven hundred, eight hundred,"

When he handed you 1800 dollars you felt faint. You handed over the key and thanked him before pocketing the cash and taking a taxi that had just dropped off a couple at the hotel. "Jonson Target, please."

3:01 you pulled up to the curb. Mar was perusing the dollar items when you walked in, and you both made quick work of finding your way to the home aisle and packing everything into a cart. A mattress, a frame, a sheet set, a comforter, pillows, a throw rug, a lamp, hangers, a bedside table, and two beanbag chairs cleared off that section and the cart. You grabbed another and headed to the hygiene section, grabbing toilet paper, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, toothbrush, toothbrush holder, toothpaste, lotion, cleanser, moisturizer, towels, and finished off with some multi-surface cleaner, rags, and a swiffer. The total came to just under a thousand, leaving ample room for Ubers and food until your first paycheck. Exhausted, you ordered an Uber Pickup to take you to your new abode: The Moore.

The driver was a big, burly man with a big, burly pickup. You both squeezed into the back seating and he blasted some music neither of you had ever heard. When you pulled up to the front steps he was kind enough to help you out, bragging the entire time about his muscularity. "You know, city folks don't know much about this but I spent all my summers bucking hay in Georgia." You both humored him, since he was able to carry both the mattress and frame in one smooth trip. 5:30 and you and Mar were just getting out the mini toolkit provided by apartment management to begin assembling everything.

The apartment was massive compared to your last one. No longer a studio, you were upgraded to a bathroom with a full XL tub and a one-bedroom master. The queen bed fit well, and after everything had been assembled (much to your exhaustion), the apartment still looked somewhat empty, but inhabited. When you and Mar finally settled into the beanbags in the living area, you groaned about forgetting a tv. Mar asked if she could take a shower, and you moved to the bedroom and set up your iPad in the meantime.

Hi hunny. How is the new place? Your mother wants pictures ASAP ( as soon as possible ).

It's good! I'll send some pics in the morning, I'm tired from setting up the place all day. Orientation went well too. Doesn't seem like I'll be too drained there.

Mar stayed the night again, and you pestered her about if she really wanted to stay here or not. This wasn't the longest you two had been together—during your first year of undergrad here you both had been exceptionally close, sometimes spending a week flip flopping between the other's apartment. "I just don't want to be asking too much of you." You threw the comforter over you and grabbed your phone. She was slathering on some moisturizer. "Y/N." She gave you a look as the pads of her fingers pressed along her cheeks. She's right. She's never had a problem with being straightforward. She skipped over to bed with you and got under the blanket. "This gives us time to talk about the juicy stuff."

Oh no. Mar had been trying to get you a partner since the first time you both had a conversation. Extremely flirtatious and non-monogamous, her most used apps were Tinder and Uber. It had taken you a minute to get used to that coming from a smaller town, and only ever having been on a smattering of first dates and had a brief 'boyfriend' in high school. "Are you finally in a relationship yet?"

"No." You shrugged and tried to change the subject to a funny meme you'd just seen on Scypher. She shook her head and leaned in closer. "What about Ryan? Jade?" With every shake of your head she grew more exasperated. "C'mon Y/N! Get it together!"

"I'm good on that." She gave you another look and you reaffirmed. "I'll even pinky swear."

Mar held out her finger with a knowing look. You put out your pinky and moved to her hand, but stalled. You let it fall back into your lap and then pulled the covers over your head. "Okay fine. I don't completely hate the idea of dating." This created an hour more of conversation detailing all your past dates, including the coffee situation with your friends back home, and culminated in such a dense feeling of loneliness you nearly wanted to cry. The moment was short lived however due to her inclusion of the most frustrating man alive.

"I know you don't want me to say it, but what about Bru—"

"Absolutely fucking not." You mimed throwing up and passing out and she playfully slapped your arm. "Christ, dude. Last time you were here he literally chased after you."

"Last night you thought it was stalking."

"Yeah but the more I thought about it," She looked off into the distance for dramatic effect. "I wouldn't mind being invited to Paris for your birthday."

A laugh slipped out of you which eased the tension. Mar was persistent but not rude, and she had sensed this was a soft enough spot for you she didn't push it past that. You both fell asleep quite similarly to how you did the night before, but this time you didn't have to wake up for anything. Dr. Vry had told you work did not officially begin for you until Thursday evening when you were to go to the first city hall meeting to gather report. She hadn't given very specific instructions, just handed you a PRESS badge for security clearance and told you to use your phone and a notebook. She called it 'adapting to the times'. You tried not to focus too much on the logistics as you fell asleep—would you interview someone or would you simply give a summary of the meeting's happenings—and most importantly, you made sure not to zoom in on a particular aspect of the affair Dr. Vry was especially fanatic about: Bruce Wayne's attendance. You loathed how he was the last thing you thought about your first two nights back. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and it certainly didn't make you want to stay here any longer. What would you say? What would you do? Would he pretend not to know you? Would you pretend not to know him? What if you tripped again?

The rumination lingered in your dreams and you woke up the next morning feeling like you'd napped about five minutes. Checking your phone saw that you had slept until noon, and Mar was still sound asleep in bed. You got comfortable. This was going to be a long week.

[dream0fschism]

sweetheart - simon ghost riley/reader (18+)

this is the third and final part to 'the first time' as i said on ao3, this is about as romantic as i get short cut-off because its explicit pretty early lol

warnings: smut, swearing, the usual.

"Stop. Why’re you even botherin’ if you're not into it?"

You were on your knees, wedged between each muscular thigh of your comrade as you pulled your mouth off of his swollen erection.

"Don't want you to bother no more, S," he said simply, buttoning his trousers and clicking his utility belt back together. "Doesn't work if you don't enjoy it."

You frowned, taking in his words. It was true, you weren't feeling particularly horny today, but you'd ignored that with a stubbornness in favour of at least pleasing Ghost. You wanted to pleasure him.

It had been a while since you'd been sent out as a twosome for a job. You'd both been awaiting further instruction for two hours when you took the liberty of seducing your lieutenant, first palming at his clothed cock until he'd urged you down and stuffed your mouth.

Laswell was taking her sweet time anyway.

Ever since the night Ghost had infiltrated your room, he'd made sure to keep you sweet by fucking you two, three times per day. You'd expected the same denial he'd given you before, expected him to leave you for another week without your fix of him. You were delighted when he'd appeared once again in your room, the very next morning. 

It was a challenge to fuck some days, the days when you were busy with the team. You hadn't been lucky enough to be sent out as a pair until now,  so you had to get creative and crafty – fucking in a bathroom stall on stand-bys; having him fuck your hand in the backseat during drives, all whilst he kept his eyes forward, composure seemingly untouched. There was even a moment where he'd given you flashbacks of the first time. He'd seen you proning with your sniper rifle once again, boots thudding towards you as he scooped a foot underneath your ass and teased your pussy through your gear.

When Soap barreled in, asking if you were deaf or just ignoring him, Ghost had already been at the other side of the room as if nothing had happened.

 "I said how copy? Is the fuckin' target dead?" 

“Something’s up with you,” Ghost said, dark orbs eyeing you with suspicion. 

“Don’t know what you mean,” you replied, raising yourself from your knees and twisting in place to stretch your back. 

“Course you don’t,” he mused. 

It unnerved you, the way he could sense things – the things you’d made damn well sure of keeping hidden. The truth was you were sexually spent, something you’d never thought could actually happen to you. But being around Ghost still made you excited, in a different way. His presence made you giddy, made your quiet self more talkative. He opened you up, which was ironic considering just how closed he was himself.

“Not like you to not be in the mood,” he added, clicking his tongue. “Course it’s when we’ve got privacy.”

“You were the one who told me to stop,” you shot back. “I could’ve kept going.”

Ghost scoffed at that.

“What?”

“Got issues you, love,” he answered, shaking his head and standing from the couch. 

It stung. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, unable to stop the hint of hurt within your words.

“Nobody wants to fuck someone who’s not into it. Well, some people do I suppose. They belong in prison.”

“Thought you wanted someone who lived to please you,” you tried, though you understood his point. “Not my fault you’re a fucking mind reader.”

Ghost had had his back to you at that point, but swivelled around to eye you in a way you couldn’t quite read. “The fuck are you on about now? Don’t need to read minds, can read it all over your miserable fuckin’ mug.” You’d pressed his buttons.

He’d pressed yours.

“You’re a cunt, you know,” you bit, eyeing him with your own irritation.

To your surprise, he laughed at that. “If you didn’t know that already, you’re fuckin’ clueless.”

“So you think I’m stupid, then?” You asked, scoffing back at him in an attempt to match his energy. “You were happy to fuck me, when I’m just so clueless and dumb?”

“Don’t need brains for a shag, do you?” He spoke, indifferent as ever. “Think you’re special or something?”

It hurt. It really, really hurt. You didn’t want it to show, kept your facial expression in place as his words tore through your stomach like a blade. But when you said nothing, offered no comeback it stuck out like a sore thumb. And obviously, he knew he’d hit a nerve.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He chuckled in disbelief, which only made your stomach sink lower. “That’s what’s up with you. You’ve gone and got feelings, haven’t you?”

Shut up, you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him to stop talking to you, to never talk to you again. But of course, you didn’t actually want that. Instead, you gave him nothing and sat yourself onto the sofa.

“Falling for your Lieutenant. Not very professional of you is it, Silver?”

You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath as you dug deep within the confines of your mind to find a sliver of patience. It was fucking embarrassing. If it was up to you, he’d have never found out that it was more than just the sex, because you knew your feelings would be one sided; because you didn’t want to lose the shred of closeness your intimacy brought you. It wasn’t just embarrassing, it was borderline heart-breaking. And you hated that you felt this way.

The sofa dipped next to you as Ghost’s weight pressed into it.

For the love of God, just drop it.

A brush of leather traced over your cheek with extreme care, the backs of knuckles bumping over your skin at a snail’s pace. The touch made your stomach churn but you shied away from it self-consciously, tilting your head and keeping your eyes shut tight. 

“You don’t like me now, eh?” His voice was soft, gravelly, warm. 

“Just don’t,” you replied, knitting your eyebrows together. You really didn’t want to play along, to be entrapped in his cruel game of pretend.

The hand that brushed your face smoothed upwards along your head, stroking its way ever so gently down the back of it and over your braid.

“Silver,” he spoke with a sternness, authoritative. “Look at me.”

For once in your life you didn’t want to listen, wanted to disobey with sincerity as you feared how you would feel looking into his eyes just to be let down. He nudged you with his knee.

“I mean it.”

With a sigh of defeat, you opened your eyes and slowly craned your neck in his direction, meeting the dark, intense stare that waited. Ghost removed his hand from your hair and said nothing, seemingly savouring the moment as you felt the flush of humiliation filling into your cheeks.

“Tell me what you’re expecting, then,” he began. “You want to hold hands on the field? In the barracks? Wanna snuggle up together? Kiss?”

“Ghost,” you blurted out angrily, readying yourself to stand up from the couch and walk towards the furthest corner of the room.

His hand came up to your shoulder, pressing you back down roughly before you could stand. 

You shot a glare at him and he tilted his head forward gently, intensifying his stare and telling you to wait without words.

Humouring him, you gave him the chance to speak. Instead, he lifted his hands to unclasp his helmet, pulling it off as you watched in bewilderment.

“Ghost, what are–” your words stopped dead in their tracks as you witnessed Ghost hook his fingers under the hem of his mask and lift slowly, revealing inch by inch of his features. You watched the mask uncover his slightly stubbled chin and lips, brush over the bridge of his nose until he was just under his eyes, before swiftly whipping the rest off of his head completely.

Heart thumping in your ears, you took in his appearance as the butterflies stirred a riot in your gut. 

Holy fucking hell. 

You felt shell shocked, startled into utter silence. You couldn’t fucking believe the sight before your eyes. Ghost was impossibly, undeniably gorgeous – even with the black mask of his paint smudged over his eyes. You took your sweet time surveying him: his strong jaw, cheekbones, the crook of his nose, the shape of his lips, his dirty-blonde hair. His scars. He was everything you’d imagined, and more. 

“Close your mouth. Don’t want you drooling all over the place.”

His words shook you back into the real world and you realised that, yes, your mouth was indeed agape.

“But…” Was all you managed to say. Ghost never showed his face, you weren’t even exactly sure if the rest of one-four-one had even seen it. “I don’t… uh,” you drawled out. “Ghost, why would you–”

“Call me Simon,” he muttered, cupping your face between his large hands and abruptly pressing your lips together.

Sweet lord have mercy on your bastard soul. 

It was tender, warm, perfect. You couldn't think of anything else but the heat of his face radiating against your own – no time to question whether this was even real. 

Simon kissed you with a passion you'd never expected he could possess, breathing into each and every peck and savouring the taste of your mouth on his own.

You were melting into him, his embrace, his everything as you laid your hands over his own and squeezed onto them, as if to anchor yourself into the moment for eternity. In return, you received a stroke of his thumbs smoothing over each of your cheek bones.

And then it hit you, the familiar fire in your belly that you'd lost before. This was what was missing, this thing you'd never expected to receive. This affectionate touch that placed the final piece into your puzzle of unresolved longing.

You broke apart the kiss, Ghost glancing at you in slight confusion and curiosity as you attempted to steady your dizzied, entirely bewitched state. It only took you a few seconds before your excitement possessed you once again, driving you to grab a hold of the man in front of you and pull him back in for seconds. He fell in sync with you, lips never disconnecting as he leaned until you were beneath him, pressed into the couch cushions.

You kissed until you both reached your breath-holding limit, breaking apart momentarily. When you looked up at him, it was expectant and inviting. He read you like a book.

"You sure you want to?"

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

That was all the encouragement the man needed. In an instant, Ghost was wrestling with your vest and pulling it from you, taking care not to snag at your body uncomfortably. When he moved to unbutton your shirt, you closed a hand over his and stopped it.

"Yours, too," you said, watching the slight hesitation in his expression as he mulled over the request. You gathered that taking the mask off would have been difficult enough, that he needed to assess both his own confidence and his trust in you first.

It made you smile when he began fiddling with his own gear. It made you giddy with anticipation. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't fantasised about the muscular body beneath his layers of clothing – many times.

When his tactical vest was gone, your smile grew with a sense of pride. You couldn't help but feel special, relishing in the joy it brought you to know that the man who seemingly trusted no one, saw you differently to anybody else. Ghost trusted you.

In under a minute, both of your upper bodies were completely bare and pressing against one another as you kissed once more. This kiss was much more primal, needy as you both fought against each other in all of your saliva-filled desperation.

“Probably a bad idea, S,” he chuckled out, breathless and between kisses. “Laswell’s gonna contact any minute…”

“Fuck her, she’s had two hours already,” you answered, locking your hands together behind his head to anchor him in place.

For a moment he allowed you to do so. “You’re an awful influence, aren’t you?” 

You gave an amused hum, smirking back at the face that scorned you with sarcasm. It wasn’t the first time a superior had thrown the two of you out into action and had you wait for hours, or days, on end. The chances of being interrupted by Laswell - the chances of you being cockblocked by Laswell - were low, you both knew.

Ghost wriggled his head from your grasp to suck kisses along your neck, over your collarbones and, eventually, in between your breasts. As his tongue ran over your nipple, you let out a soft sound of satisfaction and reached out a hand to caress the side of his face. At the contact, Simon flinched ever so slightly, but relaxed against the touch after a second of adjustment.

The feeling of his body between your legs only spurred the fire in your belly further on, and you felt yourself out of control as you bucked your hips upwards, heat begging for some contact as it waited. The man noticed this, pulling away from your breast and backing up completely to situate himself on the floor, manoeuvring your body until you were across from him in your seat.

“Take them off for me,” he demanded, though there was a certain silkiness to his voice you hadn’t noticed before. It was an instruction, yet different somehow.

Obviously you knew what he meant, quickly following suit as you unbuckled your belt mechanically. You teased then, searching deep within Ghost’s eyes as you edged the waistband down, as you lifted your ass and eased your clothes off with an unbearably slow pull. The whole time Ghost’s fierce stare only grew more intense; yet when you came to a stop with your bottoms around your knees, you were surprised when he didn’t lunge forward to rip them off and just finish the job himself.

“All the way,” he said. “I want you to do it.”

With a small hum of curiosity, you did as you were told. Leaning forward, you pushed your cargos and panties further down below your knees, until they rested around your ankles. One foot at a time, you stepped out of them and gave them a swift kick to the side. 

Even after that, Ghost only watched. It was starting to drive you restless, the anticipation starving your every carnal desire to be touched, ravished…

Fuck it. 

Leisurely, you began to spread your legs open until they could spread no more, keeping strict eye contact the whole time. Your stomach twinged with excitement as you watched Ghost’s eyes lower with an unnerved flutter. And when they stopped over the spot in between your legs, you became hyper aware of his undivided attention and just how exposed you were. It made your heat throb with need.

“Go on then,” he muttered, eyes snapping back onto your own. “Touch yourself.”

A flush of heat invaded your cheeks at his words, but it did nothing to delay your hand from snaking its way over your folds. The contact caused an immediate sigh to fall from your lips, and you began to slowly rub at your clit to loosen the knot your nerves were in. Dipping your hand further down, you scooped a generous amount of your wetness with two fingers and brushed them back over your previous spot with a soft, satisfied gasp.

Hungry eyes observed your every move as you continued to tease yourself, panting hot breaths with each stroke and releasing small whines every so often. The feeling of being under his surveillance was somewhat fuelling your pleasure, building the suspense brick by brick as you longed for your hands to be replaced by his own.

And when the longing became too much, caused your own hands to bore you, you slowed your pace. Ghost sensed this slight change, and placed each of his palms on your thighs to dig his fingers into the skin. The sensation made you purr, and Ghost released a weighted sigh.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” 

The press of his lips to your inner thigh almost sent you dizzy, drawing out a pleading groan from the back of your throat. Somehow your legs spread open more, and you felt spoiled when Simon wasted no time in pressing his mouth to your folds to gently stretch them open with his tongue.

At first, the oversensitivity caused you to jolt. The wet flesh of his tongue explored in up-and-down swipes of your slit, cautiously figuring out what would make you writhe in bliss. He’d bump over your clit occasionally, but never for too long just to edge you a little. 

He hooked his arms underneath your legs without removing his mouth from you, hands snaking around the expanse of your thighs to knead at them with rough fingers. Every squeeze made you throb that much more, had you attempting to lock his head between your thighs and ride his face, but he wouldn’t let you budge.

“Please,” he had you begging, raspy and hopeless against his hold. “Please, Simon.”

Something animalistic within the man between your legs unlocked, and he began to lap thick strips over you, directly targeting your clit to make you squirm. And squirm you did, whining loud and unrestrained as he made a meal of you. Your hands were lost, unsure where to go in the midst of your overwhelming sensitivity, eventually setting down to grip the cushions of the sofa on either side of you. You wanted to grab his hair and pull, push his head down for more pressure, but you couldn’t risk ruining it.

The man sucked and kissed at your cunt, which would have screamed out in ecstasy if possible, head bobbing up and down as he ravished in the taste of you. He dragged his tongue down, pushing it into your hole as deep as it would go and slurping at it – the mere sight of it threatening to push the burning pool of heat in your stomach into a flooding climax.

And when the sudden absence of his tongue hit you, you cried out in displeasure and squeezed your eyes shut to cope with the orgasm that slowly fizzled away from your lower abdomen.

“Don’t be disappointed, darlin’.” At his words you opened your eyes, only to find Ghost had stood in front of you, already in the process of unzipping his pants and freeing his thick, swollen cock. “I just wanna feel that lovely mouth of yours.”

A shudder ran through you at the thought of pleasing Ghost with your tongue. You straightened yourself up from the couch, promptly switching your position to rest your knees onto the cushions beneath as your brain entered its obedient mode. 

Eyeing him from below with doe eyes, you arched your back to lean yourself further forward and opened your mouth with your tongue flat and slack.

Ghost sucked in a strong breath at the sight, beginning to stroke at his length as he shuffled towards you.

"Fuck, you drive me nuts you know," he murmured, thumbing at the precum seeping from his tip with his free hand. "Thought it was just sex with you." As his thumb reached out to you, you eagerly took it into your mouth and sucked the saltiness from it. "But I go mad when I think about you being somebody else's."

His thumb slipped out from your mouth and spread over your lips briefly, coating them in your own saliva.

"I don't want to be someone else's," you whispered, starry-eyed as you took in his words, his appearance above you – his everything.

Simon fucking Riley wanted you to be his.

And, in all honesty, you'd always been his.

His tip nudged at your lips, and you welcomed it with ease as your hot tongue curled upwards to steal a taste. As he pushed in, you coated him with your spit and swished your tongue along the underside of his length, humming in delight at the intrusion.

His cock was thick, just about stretching the edges of your mouth as it made its way in, but you persevered with a strong suction that hollowed your cheeks. 

Ghost only grunted at the sensation, fingers digging their way into the hair at the top of your braid and undoing the strands in a way that would definitely ruin the hairstyle. You couldn't care though, when all you were able to perceive was the hot, throbbing cock abusing your mouth as he guided himself into you with his vice-like grip.

A choked, strangled sound freed itself from you as his dick massaged itself in your warm cavity with ferocity, Ghost only flushing himself harder as his movements continued. From his throat came the loudest noise you’d heard from him yet, and you were dumbfounded as you stared up at him with lidded, cock-drunk eyes.

“Fuck,” he growled. 

Your cunt throbbed at the word.

You closed your welling tears back behind your eyelids and tried to push your face back against his movements, until he almost hit the back of your throat, just out of reach.

When Ghost removed himself from you with a less than enthusiastic face, your eyes fluttered open to inspect him with red, spit-soaked lips and chin.

He stroked at himself, cock lathered with your homemade lube as he watched you with heavy eyes, mouth parted slightly to make way for his laboured breaths. 

"If you wanna be mine, I'll make you mine, sweetheart."

As you wiped the fluids from your flushed face, you felt a sweet stab in your heart and stomach – and almost felt intimidated by his words, if the idea of them wasn't the only thing you'd wanted for the past few weeks. 

Shifting on your knees, you twirled yourself around to clutch at the back cushions of the sofa, sneaking a purposely mischievous look at the giant of a man behind you. Your back arched invitingly, putting everything you had on display for your lieutenant and the hungry, aggravated swollen cock of his.

In seconds his breath hit your right ear as he encompassed you, telltale of his need to take you and mark you. And you would beg for it, if necessary.

His left hand came around to caress the soft skin of your throat momentarily, until he enclosed each finger around it and tilted your head further back with force. 

"Make sure you answer carefully," he purred into your ear. "Be sure you know the risks."

A choked, breathy giggle surfaced from you. Of course you knew the risks, and the idea of them was nothing short of absolutely intoxicating to you. Whatever your superior would have in store for you, you were undeniably ready to face it – face it in bedrooms, bathrooms, closets… he just had to name the time and place. And you were certain he was already well aware of this.

He just wanted to squeeze the words out of you.

“I wanna…” you huffed out with a solid smirk, positive that he’d be able to see it from his place above you. 

“Don’t be fucking cocky,” he snarled into your ear, yanking back on your dishevelled braid until your spine was sprained into an unnatural arch. You squeaked at the discomfort. It only encouraged your behaviour, along with the sensation of the pulsating length pressed into your lower back.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, utterly defeated by your own weakness for the powerful man who could easily control you like a puppet if he so wished. “I want you to make me yours. I only want to be yours.” You tilted your head to press it against the mouth that was only centimetres from touching it, smoothing your skin over whatever of his it could reach. “Please, Simon… I need you inside... Please…”

“Oh, you need it,” Simon exhaled out his words, something feral in his tone as he pressed his nose into your jaw along with your movements. Inhaling your scent, he traced along your skin and left a trail of goosebumps in his wake. You cooed into the touch.

“Mm,” you hummed, feeling a tremble run through your legs as your impatience grew, like an addict waiting for the next fix. “...Yes. Please, please Simon. I need it.”

Releasing his hold on your hair, Ghost trailed his rough hands along the length of your sides as you pressed your cheek against the sofa’s top to recover from the discomfort of your previous position. You felt his hands reach your rear, kneading at the supple flesh of your cheeks as he pressed his hips against you. 

Swallowing the lump of desperation in your throat, you hissed at the sensation of his cock as it skimmed along the slit between your folds. He began to tease you in response, increasing the pressure against you as he eased you open with his tip and rubbed himself over your clit again and again.

“Fuck me,” he cursed. “Look how wet you are for me. Gonna ruin me, you know.”

“Want you to ruin me,” you responded, rutting back against the hardness pressing against your starving cunt. “...over and over…”

“Mm, yeah?” Ghost grunted, something about his tone gave away your affect on him. His breaths became more evident as he lined himself up with your hole, hesitating so he could drag your torment on for as long as possible. “Wanna stay on your knees for me forever, eh?”

The thought made you moan against the fabric of the cushion. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

In seconds you saw stars, blinded by the raw pleasure of his thick cock as it sank its way further inside of you. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, the perfect heat of your pussy swallowing and constricting around the length with an intensity that shattered Ghost’s calm composure. When he bottomed out against you, he stilled momentarily to adjust to the flawless suction and held you in place by the hips, forcing you to comply with his hesitance.

You opened your mouth to voice your complaints in the form of begs and whines, but were promptly interrupted by the sliding retraction of his cock, before he plunged back into you fully with a force that knocked the air from your lungs. He continued his assault on your hole with a lewd aggression, filling the air with the slapping of his pelvis against your ass that partnered perfectly alongside your hopeless outcries of bliss.

“Simon, ah – oh,” you breathed his name, hands flying up to find purchase in the velvety softness of the couch cushions. “You feel so good.”

Large hands covered your own as you were ravaged, fingers threading between yours as Simon only pressed deeper into you. The intimacy of the contact made your stomach churn with affection, built up just how smitten with him you were as the tender moment dissipated into pure carnal desire once more.

Simon slowed his thrusts, resting his chin on your scalp as he released a series of husky moans that vibrated along the expanse of your skull. Once he found his breath, his chin brushed its way down to hover just above your shoulder, until his breath fanned against your ear. 

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, and you did as you were told. Slinking a hand from underneath his you found your folds, silky with your wetness as you began rubbing circles into your soaked, hypersensitive clit. Ghost felt you tense around him. “Fuckin’ Christ.”

The band in your stomach was already tightening when your superior began to pound into you once again, somehow much rougher than before. It was a mutual desperation at this point, both of you rutting against each other and chasing an increase in your highs.

“Cum inside,” you begged, in between scattered, high-pitched moans. “Want you.. Want you to fill me.”

The ragged breathing in your ear grew louder as Simon pressed his mouth against it to nip, causing you to yelp in a mix of pain and pleasure. You caught the dark chuckle he let out as he trailed hot, sloppy kisses clumsily down from the back of your ear, along your neck and to your shoulder. When he gently sucked at your skin, you became very aware of the impending orgasm that threatened to rip through your core. You bit your lip hard, fighting the urge to let go as you remembered the last time you came without permission.

Simon felt the change.

“Let it go, gorgeous,” he groaned, shifting a hand to your breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. “Cum, sweetheart.”

It felt like a blackout. You were momentarily on another plain of existence as your body convulsed in submission to your climax, and you barely registered the scream that tore its way through your lips. You rocked into Ghost as you came around his cock, reaching for every ounce of satisfaction you could find as you came down slowly from your high.

Ghost continued fucking into you, pace unfaltering as he violently pursued his own release. You could feel how his cock had gotten impossibly harder, the rigidity of his muscles telling of just how close he was.

“Cum, Simon,” you wailed, fatigued. “Make me yours, Lieutenant.”

“Shit – fuck. You’re mine,” he growled. “Fuckin’ mine. Fuck, I’m–”

A strangled, hoarse moan thundered from his throat and into the air when you felt his whole body tense, the hand on yours squeezing your fingers together painfully as he pistoned white-hot surges of semen into you. You whimpered lewdly at the sensation, trembling vigorously underneath the huge, heavy body that was contracting and squeezing against your own.

The both of you were still, silenced bar the mix of pants and huffs that left your mouths. Simon’s body had slackened against your own, face buried in your neck as he struggled to collect himself. You were no better, dissociating from the comedown of the whole experience and staring into the empty corner of the room to your side.

“Watcher-one to Bravo, target is nearing your position. What’s your status?”

Ghost flew upwards, swiftly removing himself from you as he fumbled to pull up his cargos and secure them shut. You winced at the sudden, impromptu movement that stung a little yet rushed to clothe yourself. Shit.

“Ghost, Silver, this is watcher-one. How copy?”

“Solid,” Ghost quickly answered this time, and you watched him do so shirtless as you pulled your vest over your head. “Getting into position now.”

When fully dressed once again, you paced over to grab the sniper rifle you’d set down earlier as Ghost pulled on the last of his gear. 

“I think they’re definitely suspicious now,” you chuckled, wetting your dry lips with your tongue. “We might just be fucked.”

“Innocent ‘till proven guilty, sweetheart.”

[hyukassubi]

🪡11 | Don’t You Get Homesick?

♡𓂃 Pairing -> (Former) Knight! Huening Kai x Seamstress! Reader

♡𓂃 Synopsis -> Growing up, you never believed in purpose, nor destiny. Simply following the path of life, becoming a royal seamstress didn't at all seem like a bad idea. Only thing is, it wasn't your idea.

Your best friend who just so happens to be the crowned prince knows what it's like to grow up having limited choices, and Prince Kang Taehyun doesn't want the same happening to you. The commander knight, in turn, has other plans for the future. After Huening Kai closes a profound chapter of his life, he seeks refuge from the chaos of his past, opting for a cozier lifestyle instead.

... And it just so seems that those plans wouldn't be fulfilled without you.

♡𓂃 Wc -> 644

It was one of those calmer days today, Wizard Beomgyu caved in his laboratory-turret brewing up another one of his unique antidotes for curing cancer in rabbits, Crowned Prince Taehyun in one of the study rooms in the library reading up royal history or something, you working on an aesthetically pleasing tapestry of your most favourite spot in the palace (aside from your studio/ bedroom)— the garden pond.

You didn’t know where Kai was, but you assumed he was busy, too.

Like you, like Taehyun, like Beomgyu.

Until a figure creeps up from behind you, proving all your assumptions wrong.

Huening Kai.

He walks into your peaceful embroidering session, squatting next to you, staring into the clean surface of the pond, reflection starring right back at him.

“...Hi.” He says.

“Hello.” You say, unfazed. "How's your first time being a knight going?"

“Hmm… It’s very tame, actually. I got notified of a perimeter inspection for the next week and tended to Hazelnut’s lice. Oh, and I had an arm wrestling match with the other knights, too. I won, of course.” Kai doesn’t ramble often. He speaks in pauses, short sentences piled one after the other. But when he does ramble, his words flow out as easily as pulling on decorative ribbon. “How about you?”

“Hm.” You pondered. “The tasks are demanding, deadlines are strict, but nothing I can’t overcome, right?”

Huening Kai smiles, nodding along because he completely believes his… close friend can do anything she sets her mind to.

It is Huening Kai’s turn to ponder over the calm waters of the trickling pond, a small population of swans looming in the distance, the faint scent of lilies salted the air.

"Y/n, I've had this in my mind for quite a while...” He started. “I would love to visit your family's shops again one day. Like, properly this time. Formally, I suppose, if it’s alright with you and them, of course."

Your thread that had previously needled in and out the fabric three stitches per second froze, impaled into the tummy of an embroidered swan. "Ahh right, I haven't seen them in a while either." You admitted, and why did that not jab at your heart the way it was suppose to?

For the next couple of intangible seconds, all Huening Kai could say was, “Oh… I… think it won’t hurt to go and pay them a little visit? I’ve been interested in their shops for a while now, actually. What I’m trying to say is… your father’s florist looks lovely, your mother’s bakery must be, too. I just.” Momentarily, Huening Kai held his breath. “It wouldn’t be that bad of an idea to take the day off and meet them? For a while? If that’s okay-?”

"Honestly, with where my life is going right now, I don't think I have time to even visit my parents every so often. Sorry to turn your offer down, though, perhaps sometime in the future?"

You didn’t mean to.

You didn’t mean to cut him off, his words off.

But the air was so thick, so unbearable, it would be awkward trying to fill up the air with a flunked makeshift apology now. Your hands did not move, the thread did not sew itself.

It was just you and Kai and Kai and you and this unfinished tapestry in your hands and the thick, unbearable air between you two.

All Kai can do was stare, and he didn’t know why it felt like he was looking into you from miles away.

He muttered, voice raw and clear, "Don't you get homesick?"

You shrugged. "Not really."

You apologized to Huening Kai later on.

He smiled away, bashful, understanding that that was just a social hiccup.

You agreed with him and kept things that way.

A social hiccup.

Yeah, that’s all it really was.

Was it not?

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♡𓂃Tags: @sweetheartsaku @imcringebutimfree @i-like-to-read-at-4am @pengningie @marloree @stormy1408 @blossommi @flaminghotyourmom

Reblog & review if you like my work !!

[usedtobethelegendcreator]

Okay, since the (3) people have spoken, I shall be posting that Hazbin Hotel fic here as well.

Presenting: 1933

—

1933 was a weird year for Hell.

Oh, it started off just fine. The Great Depression was a thing. A few more souls ended up in Cannibal Town because of it. Same old same old. It was, in the beginning, a perfectly respectable year. Unremarkable in the grand scheme of things.

Then 1933 pulled the wackiest, craziest bullshit Hell had ever seen. The field in which 1933 grew its fucks was as barren as the Dust Bowl. In other words, a man was shot in the woods after being mistaken for a deer. It was an accident. Nothing out of the ordinary. But 1933 was having its 'not like other years' phase, and so the freshly-dead man manifested in Hell already a professional.

The first day he was in Hell, he could barely stand. By the end of the month, he was an Overlord.

1933 brought the Radio Demon to Hell, and Hell hasn't quite forgiven it for that yet.

At first, the denizens of Hell wanted to dismiss him.

He—they never bothered remembering the name he gave them—was a slender thing, dressed in a sensible suit and jacket. He had a strange haircut, red fading to black at his ends, and two fluffy ears/tufts (they never figured that out). He had a big, toothy, disarming grin. He walked down the streets with his head held high, a pep in his step, and a sassy swing of his cane. He also had two very small antlers, but no one ever took notice of that. He had an oddly staticky transatlantic accent.

He was, to make a long story short, the least intimidating person that could meet the eye in Hell. Everywhere he went, there were pointed thumbs and shaking heads. "Weak little fucker," they said, "I'll give him a year, tops, if he finds an Overlord soon enough."

He heard them. They knew he did. He never stopped smiling.

Everyone was talking about it, up and down the Pride Ring's necessary social hierarchy. Three Overlords had gone missing in five days. The souls they owned, when asked, said they were most definitely not coming back. It was a mystery. The Pride Ring had no police force, but it wished it had one right now, if only to figure things out.

That's when the broadcast started going out.

It didn't matter where you were in Hell. It didn't matter if you fiddled with the dials. It didn't matter if you had it turned off. If you had a radio, you got the broadcast.

All they could hear were screams. Screaming, wailing, begging for mercy from an unknown enemy. And then, at the climax of the show, all sound ended, except for the sickening noise of a soul being torn apart and eaten.

The broadcast went out two more times that week, each time a new voice. One broadcast per Overlord missing. It didn't take a genius to figure that out. But the Pride Ring, living up to its name, decided not to get the King involved. They could handle one lucky bastard.

Right?

After the twentieth Overlord went missing, they started calling him the Radio Demon. They still didn't know what he looked like, or what strange magic he possessed, or why he was doing this.

The harmless guy was, somehow, still around. He smiled at them, and they felt like prey in the sights of a predator.

The day the Radio Demon revealed himself was, possibly, the funniest-with-hindsight thing in Hell's entire history. But, at the moment, the residents of the Pride Ring were in terrified awe. The 'harmless' guy smiled down at them from where he was leaning on a skyscraper. His antlers branched out endlessly into the night sky. His eyes were pitch black, except for the ring of red around his radio-dial pupils.

His smile was full of razor-sharp teeth.

Then, in front of God and everyone, he proceeded to eat an entire district’s worth of people. He handed their Overlord's ass to her on a silver platter, with the words 'fuck you' engraved in cursive.

No one ever commented on his hairstyle again.

The posters lined the streets. BEWARE THE RADIO DEMON, they said, with a drawing of him. DO NOT FUCK WITH HIM, they said, painted in the blood of his unfortunate enemies. No one knew where he had gotten such overwhelming power. No one knew why he was doing this.

"The Radio Demon is here," every Overlord was terrified to hear, "he wants to play a game."

The Radio Demon never loses. He is never defeated. He is never outplayed or outmatched. To play with him is a death sentence.

Any Overlord with common sense goes into the game sweating. There's no hiding from the Radio Demon.

But, then, this is the Pride Ring, not the Common Sense Ring. There's always a few poor dumbasses that think they can best him.

At the table of Overlords, there were more empty seats every week. He still hadn't been invited to a meeting yet—it's not like anyone knew where he lived.

At least, until Rosie, the Overlord of Cannibal Town, found him in her Emporium.

"I'm trying something out," the Radio Demon said, oddly polite for a man with a reputation like his.

"Do you want to play a game," Rosie asked cautiously. She had no plans on becoming the next voice on his broadcast.

He gave her a look, as if that wasn't a perfectly valid question. "Should I want to," the Radio Demon shot back.

Point taken. "I can't say I'm a big fan of your work," Rosie said. "But I can admire your dedication. What's your name?"

"Alastor," he replied.

"Well, Alastor, we've been trying to invite you to our Overlord meetings," Rosie told him. "But we've never been able to find where you live."

"Good," he smiled even wider. "Are you sure they won't piss themselves when I walk in?" He gave a sassy twirl of his cane before leaning on it dramatically. Now that she looked closer, the head of it looked like a microphone. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of any...unfortunate situations."

Rosie laughed. "If you go around like you are now, no one there would ever believe it's you!"

The Radio Demon—Alastor—laughed with her. "Well," he said, twirling his cane again and holding it behind his back. "I've yet to make an ally, and I'll be damned again if it's Carmine."

The Pride Ring had a necessary social hierarchy, perfect for sinners to climb. At the bottom were the commoners, the losers. Then came Overlords, and that was a whole other system. And, at the top, was the royalty. It was fairly simple.

Until 1933 decided to be a bitch about that too.

With the Radio Demon cleaning house with all the thorough fury of a housewife during a spring cleaning, new Overlords were popping up left and right to take the newly-ownerless souls in. There was an entire section of the Pride Ring that was completely off-limits, to the point where going near it was a death wish. That was the Radio Demon's territory, and if any Overlords dared to sniff around it, they'd be the next voice on his broadcast.

In other words, there was a new part of the social hierarchy. It now went from commoners, Overlords, the Radio Demon, to the royalty. He was in a category all by himself, since no one knew what, exactly, the fuck he was.

Rosie, to some extent, knew. He was a mortal soul. He could, hypothetically, be killed. But she had no idea where he'd gotten his power from. Again, mortal soul. He shouldn't be able to do the things he can do.

Ah, well. Didn't matter. The next Overlord meeting was tomorrow, and she couldn't wait to see the look on Carmilla's face.

[musewritingsforyou]

A Normal? Day

Summary: A normal day in the life of Beacon Hills Favorite Couple

Warnings: unbearable Fluff, plot points that wont make sense just yet

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I realized I dont have any of my Stiles work updated yet! This is just a short little oneshot to show people what my stiles writing will kind of be like. I wrote it to be included in a season rewrite that I am doing but It didnt fit great so now im just giving it to you for fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*somethings that wont make sense to you will be explained if you go read my series rewrite in the next few weeks!*

A normal day in a supernatural world. 

Step one, wake up. 

Waking up is a long process for me. My lovely hyperactive boyfriend did what he always does for me each morning, wake up about thirty minutes before me, sit there as still as he can (which is not very still) to let me sleep in, give up after ten minutes and then get out of bed. Stiles woke up at six this morning, playing with my hair as I slept before he finally got out of bed. Like every morning since we started doing this, he placed his pillow and a spare flannel in my arms so I wouldn't  ‘get cold and lonely’, and then went to get himself ready for school. This was a relatively short process, throw on some pants, decide between a sweatshirt or a flannel, find the backpack and then he's pretty much done. For me on the other hand, it's a little different.

“y/n/n, I gave you five extra minutes. You gotta get up.” I groaned and moved the pillow that was in my arms to cover my face. To my disappointment Stiles took it off and started peppering me with kisses until I opened my eyes with a scowl on my face.

“I love you but I really hate you.” He gave me a classic Stiles grin as he moved backwards off of the bed. 

“I know, you make sure to tell me that every time I wake you up.” 

After walking out the door, and then back to it within seconds to make sure I was actually getting up, Stiles went downstairs to make some coffee and left me to get ready. I was running late, per usual, but by the time I made it to the car all of my things were there waiting for me, along with Stiles who held out a travel cup of coffee just the way I like it and forcibly handed me a banana.

“Eat.” I shook my head and motioned for him to drive. 

“Too early, If I eat right now I'll actually puke all over your car.” He started the car and drove with one hand as he kept the banana extended. 

“Babe, we do this every morning and every morning I remind you that-” I snatched the fruit from his hand as I finished his sentence. 

“Breakfast is important and if you don't eat it in three hours you're going to come to me during class with a panicked look on your face telling me you think you're about to pass out. I know, I remember.” 

I sound sarcastic like this every morning, but even through the snide remarks and the occasional unnecessary and undeserved insult, Stiles still looks at me like I'm the answer to the universe.

Step two, school. For this one I recommend that you don’t do what I manage to do every year, fill your schedule with all honors and AP classes, zero breaks or study halls, and more than three extra-curriculars.

I won't bore you with the rather slow details of a highschool senior. I will however give you this, classes are hard, I don't think I will ever be able to use a red pen in my entire life, and with each passing day somehow I find a way to be even more stressed than the day before. 

The day ended with me sitting on a bench with Lydia and Malia, watching our boys play lacrosse from across the field and inevitably laughing our asses off whenever either of them would look over to make a face at us and get tackled or hit with something from the field. Ah the simple pleasures, you know? As we both waited for Stiles and Scott, Lydia and I spread our various school textbooks out on the bench in front of us, in all about sixteen heavy books set open as we studied. When Coach finally blew his whistle with one ear shattering blow after another the boys ran to us, practically dripping in sweat. Stiles bound up the bleachers, skipping some of the steps and leaned down in front of me, waiting for a kiss. I didn't look up from my textbook, and neither did Lydia as she responded to the boys while hovering over her calculus homework.

“Nice try boys, but before you even think about going anywhere but a dog kennel, you need to take showers.” There were a few mumbled protests but again without looking up she shooed them with her hands. 

“Come on, off you go.” I giggled a little as they marched away in defeat, their cleats making a crunching sound when they reached the grass. 

Step three, finally to get home, only to have to go to a pack meeting. 

Like every other Friday the pack all met in Scotts living room, this time all agreeing to stay away from anything breakable. I promised Melissa I wouldn't let them destroy the house while she was out, and I keep my promises. At the moment there were no big problems. Though I still wince a little when I say it, it seems like everything in Beacon Hills is… normal. As weird as that sounds. But we still meet once a week, every week it becomes more of a group study/hangout than a real meeting, but spending time with our friends was more valuable than any solution we had come up with before. The only issue to discuss at this meeting was me. I wouldn't call it an issue exactly, but after finding out about my… species? People? Clan? I don't know what to call it, but after finding out about what I am, we still have almost no information about what that really means, for me or for them. 

“Liam, as much as I appreciate the input, I don’t think being a truth seeker literally means that I can cheat on multiple choice tests. Even if it did, morally I will tell you again, cheating is a bad thing, and also none of my classes use multiple choice.” 

They all tried their best to put Stiles and I at ease, telling us that in time we would figure it all out. But that was the thing, we didn't have time. We’re seniors just a few months from leaving this town for college, and once I leave I don't see myself flying across the country once a week just so that I can make sure I know the “truth” of Beacon Hills. The sun finally set and Stiles and I said our goodbyes, walking hand in hand out the jeep before heading to his house for the night. 

Step four, stay up until three in the morning looking for answers about what supernatural powers you have. yeah , I know, that one's a kicker. 

As soon as Stiles and I stepped foot in the door of his room we threw off our bags and changed into sweatpants. I took the flannel he gave to me this morning and placed it over my tank top as we stood in front of his clear board as if waiting for an idea to come to us by itself. The board was still blank, nothing there but a picture of me and Stiles together at the lookout in the woods. A little reminder that no matter what crazy ideas are thrown onto this board, we always have each other. We settled into our usual spots, Stiles standing and pacing in the middle of the room while I spread books and papers out over his bed, laying on my stomach and staring into the pages. 

Finally, Step five, wait for the full frustration to kick in, and then once it's there, find a cute boy to calm you down.

I was laying flat on my stomach with four books in front of me, two from school, two from Lydia on the supernatural. I was hoping that in between my AP calculus homework and my college physics textbook I could figure out something new about my identity. News flash, it wasn't working. I groaned at the words in front of me, frustrated that for some reason the letters were swimming in and out. I took the books (all four of them) and slammed them shut before throwing them aggressively onto the ground in front of Stile’s bed and then taking the papers and just tossing them onto the air without any thought of aim or purpose. Stiles stopped pacing and stood still in front of his board, which now had a few red squiggles here and there along with the photo and a horrible attempt at drawing a wolf. He turned slowly to me with a marker in his hands.

“You good?”

“Not really.” He nodded and walked over, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed and putting the marker down. While I was still lying on my stomach he placed a hand on my back and rubbed it slowly.

“baby, do you know what time it is right now?” I placed my head in my hands and responded. 

“No. Do I want to?” 

“No, but I'm going to tell you anyway. It's three in the morning.” I said nothing and just signed into my hands. Stiles ignored my angry sighs and continued. 

“Babe do you know what that means?” I shook my head. 

“Well first of all it means that you are probably exhausted, which is why you're getting so frustrated with yourself, but more importantly it means that we have two hours before that night time diner downtown closes.” I looked up fast. 

“Are you talking about the one with the pie, and the fries and the shakes.” He looked at me very seriously and nodded. Without another word I popped up on the bed and threw on a pair of crocs.

 “Stiles, no matter what I say in the mornings when you wake me up, I love you so much I think you might even be higher on my list than eating pie at three in the morning.” He gave me a broad smile and kissed me on the cheek. 

“Say no more, love.”

[just-animaxiz]

RC9GN SHORT FIC - SPIKE

It's Saturday. Which means Gathering Week.

As two long, metallic arms stretched out in the air, the leader of both Punk Bots and Scrap City rose from his bed and yawned. Feeling a bit stiff, he rose one shoulder and rotated his arm around 360 degrees, before he set it down and did the same to the other.

Spike then stood up from his flat, hard, iron bed - the one he's so well used to lying for a while. Right across the room, on the opposite side of his room, is a mirror with his newly sewn red vest hanging off the top corner. The leader walked past the mirror, his reflection showing a neutral but determined expression.

At the exit of his room, Spike's door is decorated with dozens of pictures, ripped magazines, and target signs of Hannibal McFist and The Ninja. Additionally, there are rubber cables used for exercising and a handle bar glue above, useful for doing standing pull ups. Spike usually practiced on Tuesdays for that. He paid no mind, however, as he just opened the door and headed left towards the bathroom.

On his way, Spike passed by the room where his buddies, Thorn and Skewer, resided. Without stopping, he rose one arm and knocked three times, alarming the two brothers to wake up. As expected, Skewer was always the first to open, first looking for Spike before stating, "Mornin'." Spike only waved one hand in response, "Mornin' - It's Gathering Week tonight. Get Thorn's ass off."

--

10:30

30 minutes of getting ready for the meeting, Spike and his two brothers walked down the streets of Scrap City.

Well, not Street per se, but a pathway.

While walking, A small elf robot came up to the tall leader, "Spike, boss! My friend needs a hexagonal bolt and an extra wire to reconnect the left leg movement!"

"I'll keep in mind - Use the crutches as a substitute in the meantime." Without hesitation, Spike answered with ease. The elf nodded and rushed back, just as a robo-ape walked beside the three, "We're out of oil and my fists are getting stiff from walking."

"Stop walking and we'll get it here by tomorrow morning."

"Thank you." THUMP. The bot then fell, followed by a couple of robots that carried him off to safety.

Spike, Thorn, and Skewer finally arrived at the meeting area. The meeting area, in question, is a broken circular table with McFist's dumb face plastered on the cover. Luckily, other robots had their time drawing doodles on his face so that it'd be less of an eye sore to stare at it. Surrounding the tables are other groups discarded by McFist.

The only one's not present is Dale, whose memory shall be remembered as he's off in a more friendly care. By who? I don't know.

At the presence of their leader, the robots surrounding the table stopped whatever they're doing and watched Skewer and Thorn set down a large blueprint.

"Alright, mates - Listen up. During our last heist, intel told us McFist is raising the security here downtown." Spike explained, grabbing a rusty pole and pointing the tip at the area known for every "Mc-Fist" businesses. "Our job is to head somewhere were more equipment are stored."

Spike then pulled the pole away, giving a little twirl before pointing it at a robo-ape with a broken arm, "You. You're scrapped here since last Friday night by McFist. Any insights?"

"Yes - Mcfist is having a birthday party for his wife, Marci, and he'll be gone for a couple of days. Meanwhile, Viceroy is storing the spare equipments at one of the secret units, to which McFist shared it to me to "remember.""

"Seriously?" A cowboy bot interrupted, tilting his broken hat up by this revelation, "He told you to remember it but you're scrapped here?"

"He also told me and other robo-apes to destroy The Ninja."

Everyone in the table groaned, letting out rants and babbling about the Ninja; however, a smack on the table startled them silent, turning their gazes at a darkened silhouette of Spike.

His eyes, looming bright yellow, indicated a sign for them to know the rules, "Remember rule number 1 - We don't talk about the Ninja in this city!"

The bots nodded in fear, and Spike took a moment to breathe in and out. Once he's calm and his silhouette lightened, his tone changed, "We only talk if the Ninja's around the area we're gonna steal or he's very active lately. He's the reason why McFist created us and McFist is the reason why we're here. We don't want any loose distractions on Gathering Week, don't we?"

They nodded again.

"Very well - Now continue." Spike then looked back at the robo-ape with the broken arm.

"Ahem - So McFist is heading out and Viceroy placed the equipments in this storage." He then pointed to the area up north, far from Down Town, "It's right near to the bookstore."

"Perfect." Spike smirked, "And the Ninja?"

"While fighting, I heard that the Ninja is going on a day-off for a moment. I think that's because of what happened a month ago."

Right. A month ago, word got around that a mysterious entity known as "The Sorcerer" managed to invade Norrisville High. Spike didn't know, but he very well remembered the sight of green mist above the city from afar. It looked like a toxic exploding mushroom to him, and boy is he glad the schedule's moved later that day.

But now everything's back to normal, and the residents of Scrap City are back at their gathering game.

"Alright - So we're on the clear for today. We need a total of 45, and that means we don't have heavy loaders. Got it, mates?" Spike explained, and everyone agreed in favor.

---

Later that night.

Three Punk Bots climbed up a heap of cars, carefully gripping hold and making sure they don't hear any creaks.

"Don't you think it's kinda dumb for McFist to dump all cars like this, ey, bruh?" Thorn, the yellow Punk Bot, spoke up amongst the grunting. He kicked his left foot against a stiff rock, then raised his arm to hold onto the corner of a crushed minivan. His arm let out small squeaks, reminding Thorn of his early damages, but he paid no mind.

"If anything's right in that man's head," Skewer, the green Punk Bot, grunted as he gave himself a little jump before climbing upwards, "It's that his ego overloaded his intelligence!"

The two shared a laugh, followed by a quiet chuckle from Spike. They already knew he find it funny despite his attempts to resist it. They knew him better than himself, including his taste for humour. A good McFist roast gets him going, even with all the pressure of being the leader of Scrap City and the only one who has the biggest hate on McFist.

Once the trio made it to the top, they jumped from the tip of the heap to the border. All three's circuits jumped as their feet nearly pushed deep to the edge, but luckily they held each other back and sighed.

"Ok, remember - Distract anyone who gets too close and destroy any cameras on sight." Spike warned, followed by two nods. Skewer turned to his side and tied a rope, letting one end down.

It's go time.

---

In Norrisville, late at night, the three invaders sped in the shadows, turning to alleyways when streetlights are on and running out when it feels like total darkness. Occasionally, Spike would raise his hand to halt, and he pulled out the blueprint to make sure they're on the right track. He traced his finger on the path they chose, and with a few calculations, he pointed right. Spike then tucked the paper away and without a doubt, the three continued their run.

"So sad we can't meet the Ninja again..." Thorn sighed quietly, "I really wanted to ask him about his adventures 800 years ago!" The three coordinated Spike's moves as they jumped over fences, dodged trash cans, and pressed themselves as the wall as they tip-toed underneath light windows.

"Can you stop hoping karma, Thorn? You don't need the Ninja to solve every question you have." Skewer argued, also quietly, before the three turned to a corner and ran across closed stores. While dashing, Spike grabbed a rock and successfully threw it on a rotating camera stuck on a streetlight. With that much momentum, the camera spun around due to the hit and fell on the ground.

"But you gotta be curious too, don't ya Skewer? You told me that last night!"

"I was groggy - And I only say it to shut your trap!"

"(Gasp) Liar!"

"Will you two - STOP -"

The two immediately froze, as Spike blocked their drift forward. They looked in front to see a construction area, filled with cement, machines, and signs that warned them explicitly to turn around and go the other way. Inbetween the signs are lasers, and with a glance around, Spike could see sleeping cameras on the corner of the area.

"Crap," Skewer cursed, "If we go this way, we'll trigger some kind of alarm. We'll take another route. This will make gathering more difficult on the way back."

Spike snarled, clenching his fists. Why does the big man always make things harder for him?! Humans always treat robots like him as if they're nothing. THEY ARE SOMETHING. THEY HAVE FEELINGS AND SO DOES HE. HE WON'T BE SCRAPPED ANYMORE.

No cage can lock us away.......

Release the rage......

Explode in thunder.....

"Huh?" Spike shook his head, confused and stammering. Everything became a white noise until he stopped shaking, and he turned to Skewer, "What did you say, Skewer?"

"I said we can go to the Game Hole. The storage is just in the back, and then we'll take a shortcut over there." Skewer explained, almost sounding concern at Spike's reaction, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah... Let's just go."

The three turned and ran down to an alternate route.

---

At their new pathway, the three robots scurried towards Greg's Game Hole, and they abruptly stopped once more when their robotic lens caught sight of a truck. Without a thought, Spike gestured Skewer and Thorn to duck and find another way, but just as he's about to follow them.

"Hello? Someone there?"

Crap! Only by a second near the corner, someone caught a glimpse of Spike. He glanced back and saw the figure walking forward, getting close to their area. The leader scanned around before spotting a box conveniently filled with clothes fitted for him. He removed his red vest, which is a very clear icon on who he is, and tossed in the bag.

"What are you doing?" Skewer questioned with gritted teeth, to which the red bot responded in a hushed tone, "You two go get the equipment. I'll distract whoever caught us! Now go!"

Spike grabbed a green coat, a black mask, and a crimson scarf before grabbing the box and shoving it to Skewer. With no futher questions, the two quickly turned away and ran.

"Hey, someone there?" Spike turned around and... Oh no...

Not him.

Spike stared back at the blue eyes of a teenage boy, wearing a green jacket over a red shirt and black pants. His purple hair, noticeable from afar, made a clear silhouette.

"Uhhh..." Spike cleared his throat and slacked over, trying not to straighten himself up for the incredible and strange height difference between the two, "I'm good... Just walking at night."

"Oooh.. Sorry about that! I thought I saw something quickly hiding over the corner like they don't want to be caught!" Randy chuckled, but gradually turning to an awkward laugh when Spike didn't follow along with him.

"Ahem... Um... I gotta go get back... To my night shift." Randy pointed to the Game Hole and walked down, which made Spike confused.

"Work? At night?"

"Yeah, it's called a night shift! I'm only doing this for today because I need to save up money!" Randy responded, walking into the store before backing up, holding a trolley with an arcade machine on board. Spike walked towards him, hoping to stall enough time, "Why?"

Randy stopped and stared at him. Then he pondered, "Hmmm... Well, if you help me then I can tell you!" He chimed, smiling with a smug look. This gave Spike a chuckle and he nodded, "Sure, kid."

----

"Wait, you're going to what with who?" Spike asked, lifting up one side of an air hockey table while Randy held the other side opposite from him.

"Well, there's this competition happening near Norrisville. It's about talented gymnastics fighting to the death with twirling batons and pom poms! Well, not to the death, per se, but more like a competition! See, there's this pretty girl there - Who I mean, totally is my girlfriend but she's really amazing but - I mean!" Randy stammered, clearing his throat mid-way before continuing, "She's going there to compete and I wanted to save enough money for me to go and watch her game! I would ask my friend, but he's off on a vacation with his parents, unfortunately."

They carried the table to the truck and placed it to the left side. Randy scooted over the table and made his way back to Spike, "It's really expensive, so I took up a couple of jobs to earn some cash! It's the bruce!"

Spike walked beside him to get the last arcade machine, "I see... That must've been hard work."

"Eh - I had worse..." Randy muttered, not noticing Spike's raised brow beneath the hood, "I mean, I had worse jobs before! It's terrible, but I learned my lessons! For example, there's this product called The McStachlé"

Oh no...

Not this.

Spike remembered it well, secretly cringing at his debut spot.

He and his buddies were made by Viceroy to attack the Mcstachlé store at its grand opening. The reason? Guess.

When they failed, Viceroy set up a back-up plan which is to fused the three of them into a larger robot made out of McStachlé material. Why did they fail again?

Well, it turns out that McFist needed to low costs so he had the regular zippers than indestructible zippers.

The Ninja defeated the bots, and they're taken to Scrap City.

That was the most embarrassing and worst day of Spike's life.

"I'm not exactly fond of those things. Don't you think they're ridiculous?"

"Well, it nearly costed me and my friend's friendship, so maybe yeah? But they're really cool, though!"

The two finally stopped in front of a machine, coated in red, orange, yellow and black. A title smeared on the top and bottom covers of the machine, with a depiction of a rather horrifying beast with horns and tusks. Spike narrowed his eyes to read the dirty title, "The Roar of the Oni."

Oni? Spike heard Thorn mentioned it a while ago, due to his excitement and love for Japanese culture.

"Yeah. Those big burly red guys with horns and a club? I think they're yōkai, according to my studies. I heard stories that they actually come from another realm. Isn't that scary?" Randy asked, then he noticed Spike staring at the machine with a hypnotic gaze.

Spike's eyes scanned at his reflection, as though he is another version of himself beneath the hoodie, mask, and scarf. He saw himself, dawn in an orange scarf covering his mouth, decorated with fangs. His eyes glaring yellow, glowing in the dark. He felt rain tapping his shoulders, getting harder and faster when his emotions boiled harder.

Suddenly..

BAM!

Spike jumped, hearing a mix of something unusual. Is it thunder? He turned around and spot a tall lanky man with a short brown bob, and a thin stache on his face. He had one hand holding a door knob, indicating he just closed the door.

"Randy? Who's your friend? Did you get everything loaded?" The man asked, putting on his groovy light jacket.

"Oh, he's just helping me carry the heavy stuff, Greg!" Randy chuckled, then he looked up at Spike, "Hey I didn't get your name, though..."

Spike switched between them, then he cleared his throat and pulled his hoodie down to shadow his features, "Uh... I'm just a friend, but I have to go. I think I'm late for... Curfew."

With his poor excuse, Spike rushed out of the Game Hole, quickly dashing out of the scene. Randy stared at him with confusion, and a hint of sadness.

"Hmm... At first glance, I thought he looked like the Ninja!" Greg said in the midst of silence, "But he looked too tall to be one."

---

At the destination, Spike removed his disguise and tossed them to the dump, then he turned to the storage area where he saw Skewer and Thorn in a truck.

"Where did you get the truck?" Spike asked, climbing aboard. Thorn, who used to be in the passenger seat, made space in the back which fits cozy for him.

"Oh, we just randomly found it!" He perked up with a response, and Spike put on his seatbelt.

"How's the distraction?" Skewer asked, glancing at Spike. Spike took a moment, glancing at himself on the side view mirror. He could've sworn he saw the other reflection staring back, but he turned to answer.

"It's nothing.... Just drive."

Skewer pressed the gears and drove forward, "Well, we got intel that it's going to rain soon, so we grabbed some extra for shelther."

---

The Creeper stood in the dark, his orange hair and cowboy hat dimmed beneath the shut down street lamps.

He raised his eyes at the moving truck, knowing who he's referring to as he spoke. The entity wearing red, with a soul waiting to be released within

"Live your life the best you can, but soon, you're more than nothing in this journey. See ya around.... Oni."

[skylarmoon71]

Castiel (Supernatural/Grimm) - Short Story -Extra 1

You know it was hard to avoid.

Your parents would find out eventually.

At least he would.

It’s not like you were hiding Castiel per se. It’s just that a certain someone tended to get a little overprotective. So you knew you would have to slowly work up to it. Ease into the process.

You couldn’t just rush through it crazily.

Like you and Castiel do every other night.

You giggle to yourself and Castiel looks over.

“What’s so funny?”

He looks ready to hear the joke so he can join along in the humor. You just laugh, shaking your head as you park the car.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Turning off the engine you step out and Castiel follows, looking at the outside of the shop.

“Your god parents own this shop.”

You nod.

“Yep, that’s sort of how they met.”

Locking your car, you take Castiel’s hand as you both head to the door. You open it stepping inside and Castiel shuffles in behind you.

Rosalee looks up with a smile.

“(Y/N), perfect timing I have your order and you won’t believe who is here.”

She sounds excited and you’re about to ask who, but said individual walks out from the double doors and you gulp.

“Aw shit.”

Nick, Adalind, Diana and Monroe exit the back room.

Looks like you’ve been caught.

“D-Dad, what are you doing here?”

You laugh awkwardly walking over to him and he smiles, but he eyes Castiel suspiciously when you hug him. Nick pulls back and you move to your mom happily. Once you’re done with the little reunion, you take the paper bag from the table.

“W-Well we’d love to stay but I have to get going.” 

You grab Castiel’s hand to make a break for it.

The door locks click shut and you turn back, glaring at Diana. She just smirks.

“What’s the rush sis, why don’t you introduce your friend.” Diana grins.

You frown.

“I should have strangled you when we were kids.”

She just laughs.

“Quit teasing me sister, please, have a seat.” She gestures to the chairs and you sigh. Nick raises a brow.

“Who is your friend?”

You sigh heavily, and Castiel steps forward.

“My name is Castiel, I am an angel from a different universe. (Y/N) and I are lovers.”

That was certainly not easing into it.

It’s about to go down in three, two..

“What do you mean lovers!! Why am I just now hearing about this!!” 

Nick all but explodes.

Adalind takes a step forward, placing her hand on his shoulder with a smile.

“Calm down Nick, he’s a sweet guy.”

“You knew about this!?!”

Adalind laughs.

“Of course I did. She was a little worried you would overreact.”

“I never overreact!!”

“You’re overreacting right now.” You point out.

He still looks like he’s about to blow a fuse, but he takes a few calming breaths.

“Alright, just tell me, how long have you both been dating?”

“Five Months, three weeks, eight days and twenty five minutes, fifteen seconds. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twen-”

“Castiel, I think he gets the message.”

He nods.

“I love your daughter very much. Thank you both for bringing her into this world. I’m forever grateful.” You blush.

He bows his head and both Rosalee and Adalind look about ready to gush.

Nick looks about ready to draw his gun. 

He’s always been this way. You were lucky that now that he is a captain of another precinct he no longer had the time to man your every move like when you were in high school.

He’s protective, and you understand why. Most parents are scared of the metaphoric monsters out in the world, be he’s aware of the very real ones. So his paternal meter seems to always be in overdrive.

“Dad I’m an adult now, you can’t keep manning my every move.”

“Don’t you take that tone with me young lady.”

“Dad!” You whine.

So much for being an adult.

Castiel’s brows are furrowed trying to analyze the issue.

“If you’re worried about any harm coming to your daughter I assure you that would never happen.” Castiel assures.

“Yeah, and if someone were to kidnap her what would you do?”

“I would hunt them down and scatter their parts across the galaxy after extensive torture.” 

His reply stuns everyone in the room.

“Wow, that got dark real fast.” Diana mutters.

Nick shakes his head.

“No, I think I kind of like him.”

“Nick!”

“Dad!!”

You can’t believe him. Adalind’s voice is just as scolding.

“How would you describe my daughter?”

“She’s the most beautiful being I have ever met.”

“What would you get her for her birthday?”

“The entire galaxy if it were obtainable.”

“What’s her favorite color?”

“Blue.”

You can’t believe the line of questioning your dad is dishing out. You’re blushing again because Castiel is the most straightforward and honest person you’ve ever met.

Nick takes a step forward and you’re ready for just about anything, but he holds out his hand.

“Welcome to the family.”

Castiel takes it, shaking his hand.

“Thank you.”

You just facepalm.

Maybe you should have been more worried about keeping these two apart, because now you have two overprotective men in your life.

How fun.

[turtle-to-dragon]

a return to goal-setting and logging and blogging

I figured it's time to start using this space more like I did before. A lot has happened in my life since I last posted personal stuff; I've changed my profession, moved back to my hometown, returned to my first and most beloved martial arts school, started Chinese sword training, had a few pleasant encounters with HEMA practicioners, started teaching kung fu again...

I haven't trained as consistently as I'd have liked, and I had some months where I didn't exercise or move or do much of anything, at all. Fortunately, that's behind me now, and I'm back at a state of mind where I feel comfortable setting martial arts related goals again.

Now I know it's important to keep it as specific and measurable and actionable as possible, and I *also* know that it's probably important to not plan too much at once... but ehhhh. I'll just try to be kind to myself and keep the daily actions small and short enough to not overwhelm myself. At the same time I know I need consistency and a plan to achieve those things.

My goals;

(re)learn the Sword Hand Form, so I can perform it fluidly, with intent, in a way that I would be able to teach it to others, by September.

optimize the Leopard Form, so that I can perform it fluidly, with intent and appropriate depth and the character of the animal, by mid August.

get good at deep stances so I can maintain them comfortably for a minute (horse stance, reversed bow stance, empty stance) on each side.

get better with the leopard kick (which is a sneaky one, pretending to go all straight and then at the very last moment turning inward or outward)

get better with the leopard strikes (the circular in the straight, the straight in the circular, as my teacher said)

learn the 3 Principles Sword Form (san cai jian) so that I can perform it correctly, with intent, with body-sword-movement, with a partner, by December.

establish a sword training routine so that it becomes part of my daily life. start with maybe ten minutes a day, keep a checklist with drills to practice nearby, and re-evaluate after two weeks if this actually helps with anything.

pain-free, strong right shoulder, so I can go through 2 x 1.5 hours of sword training or regular kung fu training per week, or so I can get into push-up position, or hold a focus mitt against serious punches and kicks without pain... By stability and mobility exercises on every second day (alternating with leg work)

pain-free, stable left ankle, so I can go through 2 x 1.5 hours of kung fu training on mats per week, including jumping and standing on one leg without falling over or being in pain for days... by stability and mobility exercises on every second day (alternating with shoulder stuff)

improve endurance so I can sprint up one or two flights of stairs without feeling like I might die. I'll probably start with a C25K training program again, and training with stairs would probably help as well. What doesn't help is that I abhor starting this kind of training because it feels so miserable. (That's probably me wanting too much, too soon...)

Yeah. Like I said.. maybe a bit much, but I'll try and figure it out.

.oO(goals for July and beyond...)

Other things, apart from the goals:

On Friday my new sword will be delivered, yay! Getting the shipping notification today made my Monday significantly better. More swords for everyone!

Looking forward to a HEMA introductory workshop on longsword in less than three weeks, with a kung fu sister and two other good friends <3

very much enjoying having a very motivated kung fu sister that matches me in thirst for knowledge and enthusiasm for this art.

My first kung fu teacher and my mom both said that they would like to be present during my next kung fu exam. I don't know yet when that will be, but I feel honored that they want to be there. And it feels kinda fitting, since they were both present at my very first training at this school, 22 years ago. ^_^

After tidying up my room, I now have (hopefully) enough space in my bedroom/living room to practice sword techniques. (Looking at you, ceiling lamp... Stay where you are!)

Okay, that's it for now. Off to actually train now :D

[whirligig-girl]

some sketches

This week I dealt with a couple days where my room, and thus PC, lacked power. My lights worked but every other outlet was dead and needed a repair. With few distractions and not much else to do, I spent my time drawing. Here’s what I drew:

Image ID: green-tinted black & white sketch of a steampunk rocketship with large propellant tanks, round superstructure, solar boiler and heliograph. Ensign Guz, a slimegirl with gooey hair and a Star Trek Lower Decks style starfleet uniform, is looking up at the rocket with big starry eyes. She says, “It’s beautiful...” End Image ID.

Image ID: Sketch: D’vana Tendi, a woman with freckles and a short undercut hair style, is holding up the disembodied head of Guz. Tendi looks attentive and worried, whereas Guz merely looks flushed and embarassed. Her slime-hair is dripping. Tendi says “Guz! Are you okay?” and Guz says “Uh... just a little light-headed?” End ID.

Image ID: Sketch of Guz, smiling, looking up just above the viewer, and is sticking her tongue out playfully. She is seen from the shoulders up, the rest of her body is just a puddle of goo. A starfleet delta-shield combadge is partly submerged in the goo where her chest would be. End ID.

Image ID: Sketch of Guz, but rendered as a human instead of a slimegirl, with apparently real hair, freckles, irises in her eyes, and lipstick. A tiny doodle of Captain Carol Freeman, a black woman with dreadlocs, is explaining to her, “the paint will wear off in 6 hours or so. Remember to be careful with your wig, and don’t let anyone touch your skin!” Guz stares wide-eyed at her and is slightly frowning. She says, “Are you sure about this?��� Freeman responds, “This undercover mission is very important! You’re the only one who can seep through the walls without transporters.” End Image ID.

Image ID: Lisdolin Kerman, a Kerbal from Kerbal Space Program, has a very large head and a very small body with long arms that are crossed over her chest. She is looking at the viewer and smiling. her face has only large bulding eyes and a mouth, with no nose or ears. She has three freckles and short wavy hair with messy bangs. She is wearing a starfleet uniform, and the delta-shield combadge looks comically large on her. She says, “Presenting... the U.S.S. Better Cerritos, NCC-75567-A.“ Next to her is an image of the USS Cerritos from Lower Decks, a starship with a circular saucer section and two long warp nacelles underneath, but with six additional warp nacelles of various sizes added to it. Below it are starfleet engineers Guz and Rutherford, who are looking forward incredulously. Guz says, “Where’s the impulse engines?” Lisdolin: “Don’t need ‘em.” Sam Rutherford, a dark skinned man with a mohawk and a rectangular cybernetic implant on his left eye. says, “Where’s the engine room?” Lisdolin: “One per nacelle.” End ID.

This last one I actually drew today while my brother was at a Barber Shop getting a hair cut. I thought, “wouldn’t it be funny if...”

Image ID: Sketch of Guz sitting in a barber shop with a tarp over her uniform. The barber, a middle-aged man who has andorian antenna and a bolian facial ridge, is looking at the slime on Guz's head with confusion. He is holding up her goo-hair and it runs through his fingers. He is holding up scissors with goo on them with his other hand. He says: "What on Bolius & Andor is THIS?" Guz looks a little disappointed at that reaction. End Image ID.

[mastcrmarksman]

Hey Clint, what's your workout regimen like?

❝ Well, I do about about six days a week, four hours a day, now it's important to note this doesn't necessarily mean all at once; and trying to remember to stretch at least every 7 hours, no longer than 12. Although, I still do a little on my off days; normally that's just yoga and stretching, auxiliary exercises and some bow work. ❞

❝ Considering that archery and acrobatics is kind of my whole MO; I do a lot of bicep work, LAT activation, and gymnastics mixed with cardio for the rest of my week. My workout regimen includes pull and push days, Pull days are heavier, more intensive than push days. ❞

❝ The reason for this goes with the fact that I do a lot of high risk acrobatics when the world need saving, flight acrobatics, circus stuff. The goal is to pull back the posture of my cervical collar; this regimen I follow is made for injury prevention and longevity. This is my life, my lively hood, I have to take my workouts, my body seriously, and when I'm injured, I've gotta work at it with the physical therapy. ❞

❝ A given week can look like ⸻ Day one; cardio. ⸺ Day two: acrobatics, cardio ⸺ Day Three; acrobatics, gymnastics, cardio ⸺ Day Four; gymnastics, cardio ⸺ Day Five: cardio ⸺ Day Six; rest, short morning yoga ⸺ Day Seven; rest, short morning yoga. Auxiliary exercises, normally only short routines under an hour on rest days. ❞

❝ Now this isn't accounting for when I'm using my skills in action, daily routine can change based on what I did the day before and what I need to work with my body; where's it at with pain and aches, injuries so on, and what got worked versus overworked; or didn't. ❞

❝ My archery workout works on a circuit over a three week cycle in tandem with the other stuff; that's where I can get about four or more hours in a day. Now some of this is wrapped up in the other, but archery requires strength training. ❞

❝ Week one of archery goes like, day one core circuit, day two wrist circuit, day three posture skills, day four core and wrist, day five full draw skills, day six core, day seven rest. ⸻ Week two goes like day one posture skills, day two posture skills, day three full draw skills, day four bow training, day five posture skills, day six full draw skills, day seven rest. ⸻ Week three goes into day one full draw skills, day two bow training, day three posture skills, day four full draw skills, day five bow training, day six bow training, day seven rest. ❞

❝ My regimen is a mix of these two, but in general if I had to break my two schools of mastery down. Now with archery, I have three focuses that I have to think about. Technical focus, which is posture, set position learning, open and setup learning, anchor position, alignment, continuous expansion and aggressive release with follow through. The physical focus which is my general strength which goes in my acrobatic training, finger wrist and forearm strength, and core conditioning. Last is mental focus, visualizing my shot process, along with shooting 12 arrows per day minimum. Keep my mind and eyes sharp in visualizing shots, this part I do add some math, geometry, and hand-eye coordination. ❞

❝ When I say I'm the one of the world's greatest archers and I don't miss a shot. I mean it. This is why I can go out and play with the big boys. ❞

@mastcrmarksman tagging myself so i can reblog but no one else