#only walking 15 minutes beats walking 30 minutes

[tinolqa]

it’s just gotten unbearable, the hurdles

bad enough that I don’t have the free time or inspiration or passion, nothing driving me to create for the sake of doing it, just a net of obligations and an uneasy sense that I have to Improve My Craft (for who? for what? why?)

but I have to perform so many little new steps in this dance. register on this site. no, not that one, this one. fully divorce “nsfw” from safe, consumable works of “artistic merit” so my reputation isn’t tarnished. I have to divide myself into palatable little pieces for my audiences and not drop the masquerade or I might lose actual friends. no pressure.

well then you have to use glaze. and nightshade. it’ll take hours and make my art look worse, and even then I’d better not be posting on the wrong platforms, or else it’ll be eaten up by the AI and spat out wrong and stolen (don’t worry I stole those wages from myself by being psychologically unable to do more than one commission at a time and chronically undercharging for my work). and then I have to make alt text. it’s so easy! so simple. how many words are a picture worth? just describe it like a novel. use this government guideline. use this template of a photograph. surely it’s easy to objectively describe something that isn’t a well-known intellectual property to an audience that doesn’t inherently recognize the subject. it’ll only take 5 minutes. don’t worry, just remember that you’ll be deliberately ostracized and nobody will interact with your art if you don’t do it! it’s so simple. you have to do this easy, not at all time-consuming task do be a real human being and post your art. after all, it’s a hobby, right? you’ve got all the time in the world for your hobby.

[elicathebunny]

How to utilise the holidays/term breaks well for a successful academic year

Do you need to catch up on revising the things you didn't pay attention to in class or maybe you just need to put in some extra effort to up a grade? I'm going to walk you through my personal tips for revising efficiently throughout the holidays and term breaks without disrupting your freedom away from learning too much.

I. The Defining Phase

First, you need to figure out what you need to study the most. You should figure this out by knowing what subjects you need to spend a little bit more time on than others and revising what you already know well from time to time to keep the information fresh. Make sure you don't spend too much time on the topics you know very well, I know it's tempting and easier but you are not learning anything new or prioritising the subjects you do need to work on. The more you practice in the difficult areas, the more easier they will become too.

II. The Planning Phase

Now you know what you need to revise/study. You can make a schedule around your free days. Obviously don't force yourself to study or revise when you are enjoying your holidays off from education, so you need to work out days that you can dedicate to your learning.

To make things easier for yourself, gather the resources you need (physical or online) and make them easily available to you to get rid of the faf when starting to revise. If you know you may need extra help, utilise the online teachers and AI chatbots.

-> Don't cheat with them, these are helpful ways to check your answers and to understand the questions that you wouldn't have gotten with step-by-step help

Make sure to schedule days that you can rest and enjoy your break from school. Please don't overload yourself with lots of study days because you will burn out and miss out on your holiday. Instead make a doable schedule based on your lifestyle and what's going on in your week, dedicating just 20-60 mins is enough for a day to get all the information in your head.

Allow yourself to have breaks in between study sessions so you can reset your brain before continuing to learn.

for example: for every 1hr 30 mins studying, take a 15 min break for every 1hr studying, take a 10 min break for every 30 minutes studying, take a 5 min break [every 30 mins = 5 mins break]

if you do anything below or above the times I gave, then round it up to the nearest 30 minutes and calculate the break you should have.

III. Avoiding procrastination

SET YOURSELF UP FOR SUCCESS !!

Put your study equipment on your desk, organised and ready for you to begin your session. Keep all distractions you know will interrupt your studying away from your space. Put your phone away and keep it away from your desk, turn it on do not disturb until you have finished your session. Make sure your space is clean and organised, clear space = clear mind.

Play some ambient music in the background if you need something to break the silence. Preferably choose a background sound with no lyrics or a beat to distract you. The music will keep you focused if you need it.

a. how to stop relying on motivation purely.

Motivation often comes in short bursts and fades away, leaving you less determined to pursue your goals. Relying solely on motivation means you only act when you feel like it. Sometimes, we need to do things that benefit us even when we don’t feel like it. That's why motivation isn’t reliable in the long run. Instead, we need to develop discipline. Discipline helps you push through when you don’t feel like doing something, focusing on the long-term benefits rather than your current feelings. Doing something over and over again builds a habit, this will make it easier to get up and get it done without a fuss.

xoxo

E.B

[vestaignis]

Необычные и интересные факты о ежах:

Ежи появились на Земле раньше, чем люди – около 15 миллионов лет назад. Роднит нас с ежами также то, что у них зубов почти столько же, как у нас – их 36, и эти зубы также выпадают к старости.  У ежей не самое лучшее зрение. Правда, считается, что ежи, в отличие от всех остальных животных, у которых "черно-белое" зрение, могут различать цвета. Число игл на теле у этих животных напрямую зависит от их возраста. У молодых особей, их около 3 тысяч, а у более старых – до 5-6 тысяч.

Несмотря на свои небольшие размеры ежи достаточно шустрые животные. Они могут бежать со скоростью до 3 м/с. Для своих коротких лапок ежик очень много ходит. За день он может преодолеть расстояние до 2 км. Территория одного ежа может занимать 20 гектаров. Ежи могут передвигаться даже по болоту и хорошо плавают.

Чтобы пережить зимнюю спячку, еж набирает как минимум 500 граммов веса. За зиму еж теряет до 40 % своего веса. Поэтому, проснувшись, он сразу отправляется на поиски пищи. Ежи чуют добычу на расстоянии нескольких метров. Когда еж впадает в спячку, обменные процессы в его организме замедляются. Температура тела понижается до 0°C, а сердцебиение падает с уровня 170 ударов в минуту до 5. 

Ежи имеют иммунитет к яду гадюк. Также на ежей почти не действуют и другие яды, даже самые сильные, такие как сулема, мышьяк, цианистый калий, синильная кислота и другие.

Всего в мире существует 24 вида ежей. Некоторые из них схожи между собой так, что различить их может только опытный зоолог, а другие внешне больше похожи на крыс.

Unusual and interesting facts about hedgehogs:

Hedgehogs appeared on Earth earlier than humans – about 15 million years ago. What we have in common with hedgehogs is that they have almost as many teeth as we do – there are 36 of them, and these teeth also fall out in old age. Hedgehogs don't have the best eyesight. However, it is believed that hedgehogs, unlike all other animals that have "black and white" vision, can distinguish colors. The number of needles on the body of these animals directly depends on their age. In young individuals, there are about 3 thousand, and in older ones – up to 5-6 thousand.

Despite their small size, hedgehogs are quite nimble animals. They can run at speeds of up to 3 m/s. For his short legs, the hedgehog walks a lot. He can cover a distance of up to 2 km in a day. The territory of one hedgehog can occupy 20 hectares. Hedgehogs can move even in a swamp and swim well.

To survive hibernation, a hedgehog gains at least 500 grams of weight. During the winter, the hedgehog loses up to 40% of its weight. Therefore, when he wakes up, he immediately goes in search of food. Hedgehogs sense prey at a distance of several meters. When a hedgehog hibernates, the metabolic processes in its body slow down. The body temperature drops to 0°C, and the heartbeat drops from 170 beats per minute to 5.

Hedgehogs are immune to viper venom. Also, other poisons, even the strongest ones, such as sulema, arsenic, potassium cyanide, prussic acid and others, have almost no effect on hedgehogs.

There are 24 species of hedgehogs in the world. Some of them are similar to each other so that only an experienced zoologist can distinguish them, while others look more like rats.

Источник: //t.me/+fxNu20lM26MwYzhi, //kartin.papik.pro /osen 36405-kartinki-ezhik-osennij-68-foto.html,//zooclub.ru/ wallpaper / 17598, //rtraveler.ru/photo/1316250/,https://priroda.club/les-i-derevja /749-ezhik-v-lesu-87-foto.html,vk.com/@radio_c-ezhu-ponyatno, //mixnews.lv/samoe-interesnoe/2022/12/29/30-interesnyh-faktov-o-ezhah-vy-tochno-etogo-ne-znali/,//ecokem.ru/2021/02/05/den-ezha/#:~:text=Ежи%20появились%20на%20Земле%20раньше,6%2C5%20миллиона%20лет%20назад.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Playground Chaos

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1450

Summary: Dick decides that everyone needs to go to the playground to kill time during patrol. Jason pushes you on the swing, and chaos ensues.

The inspiration video

Darkness loomed over Gotham as its heroes leaped from building to building, searching for anything amiss in the sounds of the city. The car lights from below reflected on the glass windows of the skyscrapers around you and the sounds of the streets filled your ears. Someone was playing a popular pop song very loudly in one of the offices below you and a different person was taking a smoke break by the front door of a late-night dinner. Neon lights danced in the night as you zipped along the grappling rope that you had shot from one smaller building to the bank, where the infamous Red Hood was perched. 

            “All clear on 2nd Street.” You said walking up behind the brooding figure, “Heard anything from anyone else?”

            Jason turned around to face you and lurched forward for a tight embrace, “Dick has been ranting about how bored he is for the past 15 minutes.” “I want to get out of here.” 

            “There’s only 30 minutes left of patrol and then we can crash.” You said, your head falling into the crook of his neck.

            A crack in the comms in your ears made you pull away to turn your earpiece back on to the group and not just Jason.   

            “We should go to the playground.” Dick’s voice rang out into your ear.

            “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.” Damian replied quickly, “We are elite fighters, not children.”

            “Technically demon-spawn, you’re a child.” The sound of a snarky Tim made you laugh as you reached up to reply.

            “What playground?” You asked.

            Jason shot you a look as you shrugged your shoulders, “Hey, Bats would not be happy if we came back early so, we might as well do something since there’s nothing else to do.”

            “I guess you’re right doll.”

            “Besides, we can probably bust some creep hanging around the playground.”

            “At this time of night?” Jason almost snorted.          

            “You never know in Gotham. At this time of night, they’re probably high of their rockers.”

            “We’ll meet everyone at the West End playground.” You said into the comms.

            The West End of Gotham was one of the nicer sides of Gotham. There probably wouldn’t be anything suspicious happening, but for the gaggle of vigilantes playing on the playground. You and Jason glided down the building using your grappling guns to keep from plummeting off the side of the bank. When your feet met the ground, you pulled your grapple back in and got onto the back of Jason’s bike, quickly followed by Jason who pushed the kick stand up and started the engine. 

            “You know, when you get your bike back from the shop, we can go on a road trip.” Jason said as you bolted out of the alleyway.

            “Sounds fun. We could ride up to Salem when the leaves get bright again.” 

            “That little coffee shop that you like should be open that week so we can book a room at one of the inns and stay there.” Jason agreed as he turned onto some other street leading towards where you were meant to be. 

            When you got to the playground, Dick, Tim, Damian, Stephanie, and Cass were already there. They must have been close enough already to beat you since it was unlikely that they would have made it faster than Jason’s bike.

            “Well look who finally showed up.” Stephanie came over to you and nudged your side, “We thought you got lost.”

            “I don’t get lost Steph.” Jason took your helmet from you and set it on the bike’s seat, earning a quite ��thank you” from you.

            “Timmy lets go on the seesaw.” Dick ran over to the blue and silver seesaw like a kid with a sugar high and sat ready for Tim to climb onto the other side. 

            Cass and Damian got onto the other seesaw with the two casually talking. Dick and Tim were attempting to balance each other on the seesaw and you, and Stephanie were sitting on the swings, lightly swinging back and forth until Stephanie decided that she wanted to try and flip over the bar. 

            “Steph, if you die, I’ll give a warm eulogy at your funeral.” You said laughing at her attempts of gaining speed on the swing.

            “I really appreciate that Y/N/N.”

            Jason stood behind you and watched everyone contently. He saw the smiles on Tim and Dick’s faces and how Cass was coaxing Damian into laughing at whatever they were talking about. He worried for Steph and whether they’d have to carry her out together or if she’d successfully land whenever she inevitably went flying off the swing set. 

            “Jay, you know you can join us.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to you as you swung back and forth.

            “I’m good babe. Can I push you?” He started to walk behind you when you told him he could and lightly began to push you on the swing. 

            Jason didn’t push you too high, but instead talked to you about whatever came to mind as Stephanie began to attempt to flip next to you.             

            “You good Blondie?” Jason snickered seeing her try to make it over the bar. The entire swing set was starting to shake as she climbed higher and higher.

            “You know, I don’t think this is going to flip me anymore.” She said through giggles, “Is there something stopping it?” 

            “Yeah Steph, there’s a little bar on the top of the hinge keeping it from flipping.” You said, “You can still get a good jump off the swing though.” 

            You could feel the near disappointment radiating off Stephanie which was quickly diffused by her leaping from the swing and landing on her feet a few yards away. When she turned around, she gave a small bow and you clapped for her success jokingly.

            “Wait you guys are so cute!” Steph gasped as she saw Jason pushing you on the swing, something that she had not really been paying attention to when she was on her airborne escapade.

            You blushed and heard Jason laugh softly behind you as he grabbed onto the small of your waist, slowing you down little by little. Stephanie’s attention was taken off you when Dick and Tim started trying to launch each other off the seesaw.

            “I think your brother is about to die.” You started laughing at the two and saw Cass pull out her phone to film the two boys.

            “Which one?” Jason started playing with your hair and braiding it back into a messy fishtail.

            “Both.” You replied, earning a giggle from Jason before he finished off your braid.

            Laugher rang out into the night before Dick pipped up, challenging Tim.

            “Okay Tim, go all the way down.” Dick said, “Okay now jump as hard as you can.” 

            Tim did what he was told, lifting himself into the air harshly. Dick came down with a thud before flying into the air. The entire point of the two boys being insane on the seesaw was the lift themselves off the seat without falling off. In order to do this, the boys had to push against the handlebar of the seesaw to keep themselves from falling off the front of the seat. 

            When Tim threw Dick into the air, the expected happened where Dick didn’t hold on tight enough and he went flying off the seesaw, hitting the ground with a large thud. Laughter roared from everyone the park as Dick rolled over onto his back with tears of laughter coming from his eyes. Jason leaned against you laughing and couldn’t compose himself to stand up. Tim was laying on the ground wheezing and Cass was proudly filming it all.

            “Please, tell me someone got that on video!” Dick cried between laughs.

            “I did!” Cass yelled, “I got that on video!”

            “I thought I taught you to land better than that.” A deep voice came from the shadows, startling all of you.       

            “You saw that?” Dick screamed. 

            “From the launch to the fall.” Bruce was smiling, almost laughing at his oldest.

            “Why are you here?” Steph was the first to ask the question.

            “You guys are an hour late getting home from patrol, so I came to make sure nothing was wrong. When I saw that you were here, I figured you were killing time and didn’t know how late it was.” 

            “The Big Bats coming to check on his kids.” Tim laughed, “What a sight.” 

            You stood up off the swing after recovering from what had happened and grabbed onto Jason’s hand, “want to go home now?” He whispered into your ear. 

            “Only after I know I have that video.” 

[ghostykapi]

i need some lo-o-ove

minatozaki sana & fem!reader

she’s so pretty what if i cry

when you ask for attention from a global superstar, you already anticipated the answer of a half baked apology

still hurts though

sitting down in a cafe, surrounded by too much noise and people is not a good thing to be at. not when you can feel the bitter disappointment rising up your throat, mixing in with the coffee you probably just gulped too fast.

it’s your usual, a spiced spanish latte. the sweetness blending in with like probably two shots of espresso with a kick of cinnamon that sends your nerves into a state of buzz that you don’t know if you should accept to enjoy it or not

regardless, you should have still known better. you should have known better that you would savor your coffee this time, known better than to expect a quiet cafe during the afternoon rush, known better for your girlfriend to come in on time

you stare at the cup, arms crosses and face set in a pensive expression. the ice slowly melting away like your own expectations you have learned to built over the course you have been taken by her. each passing second making you more and more anxious to the inevitable answer of your repeating question

princess are you not coming?

princess you told me you would come this time

princess sana?

those messages have been sent over to 15 minutes ago. 30 minutes you have been sitting there, and the waiter has already returned for the 4th time

“still a no go?” the waiter is nice, a little flirty, but ultimately nice. her enthusiasm reminds you of the time when you first met sana

“sorry” you want the ground to eat you up, but you have to push through it you even want to go with your day “i’ll just pay for the coffee”

“don’t worry” perplexed, you try to still pay, but the waiter beats you too it “really, please don’t worry, it’s been paid. on the house”

“but-“

“i insist” the waiter stops you again “really, it’s no big deal”

“well” you stand up, letting the waiter guide you outside despite it not being her job, you can’t say no, not when she held out her hand with a smile “thank you for that”

“it’s sucky i know” you never really got her name yet you got how her eyes slightly closes a bit more when she smiles. you wonder if this is the universe telling you to try “but it gets better i swear”

“thank you” you smile, and she smiles back, slipping a number in your hand, before she turns around and gets back to work

so you stand there, with a number of a pretty girl. a pretty girl that made you feel seen, made you feel like your time wasn’t wasted, made you understand that you deserve better.

she isn’t sana

so you walk back to your apartment, and despite the bright and sunny day, tears are falling from your eyes. people are staring at you

you can’t look at anyone right now. not when you feel like your heart is sinking and your body feels heavy. even when you get to your shared apartment, you sink on the couch, barely having energy to move despite drinking caffeine.

you don’t even know how long you stayed there, not even when the sun is beginning to set and your body is getting weaker by the minute. the lack of food due to the loss of appetite resulting in your lack of energy

all you know is when you hear the the front door, it’s the only time you looked up from the couch to see sana

you feel like your breath is taken away at how gorgeous she looks despite breaking you apart

sana feels her heart stop at the realization of what she just missed, with your puffy eyes and weak body movements a telltale sign of what just happened

so despite of what you think your relationship dynamic is, sana is on her knees. on her knees to beg for forgiveness, to try and persuade you to think differently of any negative thoughts that plague your head

“i’m so sorry princess” she’s too damn gorgeous on that damn floral outfit, but she must be a devil for knowing how week you can get when she’s kneeling while pleading with those love struck eyes “please please please let me make it up to you”

you can’t deny her, you can’t deny when you can’t even look another way that isn’t hers

you want to fight her. you know you should. after all who in their right mind would let their partner kiss them despite committing multiple fuck ups in a week

you apparently

“i know i know” she whispers in between kisses, the taste of her lipstick is always going to be one of your favorite “i’ll take care of you princess, oh i will”

sana knows you. she bets her soul that she does. she knows how much you love to play with her hair, how you love to kiss her cheeks after a hearty meal, how you always loved to use her perfumes when she’s away, how you cry when she fucks up.

she’s fucked up at least 5 times this week. it’s a thursday. she has come home for 3 tines and yet in her heart she knows she has broken your heart more than the nights she holds you close and pretends that she was the cause

she knows she has to make it up to you

so you get kisses, again and again and again until you realize what she has done

“my gorgeous gorgeous princess” her lipstick is now smudged against the skin on your neck, and she can’t help but smile in satisfaction of her artwork “i’ll remind the whole world who i belong to”

dazed and out of breath, you grip on her arms to regain a sense of control of your surroundings. the white button up you always wear to work now ruffled and stained with pink lipstick. you can barely even look at her without your eyes traveling to her lips, always craving for more

sana also always craves for more, so she kisses you again and again and again until she’s fully on your lap on the couch, your hands ruffling the fabric of her blouse, all you feel is her

but you can’t shake the feeling of betrayal off you

sana isn’t surprised when she feels you push her away. she is more surprised when she realizes despite when opening her eyes to you crying, she didn’t feel a hard force when you pushed her.

no words are exchanged, but she lets you hold her, afraid that tomorrow morning this night will all be a dream. she watches your tears fall when you try to memorize her, afraid of being cast aside again to forget who she is. she fights the tears that threaten to go down from her eyes, her only focus is you

“must you break my heart again my love?”

she's never looked away once, not even when you feel the tears falling down again, not even when you can’t stop the sobbing, not when she sees it all.

she finally sees the full extent of how much damage she can do

“will you still look at me even when we are old?”

she understands the warnings of her members, of how too much of her job can consume her. how bring so focus on her job, she forgets to spare a glance to you

now she’s looking at you, maybe she can fix it

maybe she can make you understand again that no one can compare to you, no one can replace you, no one can deserve her love but you

no one but you

always, inevitably you.

“i’ll always” sana holds the your hand on her cheek and kisses it’s palm “choose you”

wiping away your tears, she holds you close, whispering new promises she plans on keeping, whispering how much she loves you, whispering how she’s going to fix her mistakes and be better, whispering how much she is so grateful to have you.

“it’s you who i want to love for eternity”

after all

who else would she want to propose to in your next vacation to switzerland?

[g1rld1ary]

lifeguard!james x reader 2

wc: 1587

cw: nowhere near as horny as the first one (my period ended), still mentions of sexual feelings, swearing

you went back to the pool the next day. was it for james? no. was it not for james? you weren't answering that. but there he was when you and the girls walked in just after lunchtime, sunglasses on to avoid the reflection from the water. you had to admit you were glad he was working, you'd forgotten your book at home and needed something fun to look at when you were tanning.

you were allowed to observe him shamelessly for a minute and a half whilst he was preoccupied explaining something to hilda, one of the old ladies who possibly spent every day of summer at the public pool (she was big on aqua aerobics). it was even better when he did see you all, though, his face breaking out into a boyish grin as he waved. the girls all waved back and you pulled your sunglasses down past your eyes with one hand, raising one eyebrow with a smile. he responded with a silly exaggeration of his heart beating against his chest with his hands, drawing an unwilling giggle out of you. he looked pleased with the reaction.

james left you all alone for a little, actually doing his job while you soaked up the sun, discussing your summer readings with lily. marlene and mary were filling out magazine quizzes next to you, occasionally asking for opinions. about a half hour later james approached you with an excited "ladies! it's good to see you back again!" mary laughed with a polite greeting in return, twisting in her beach chair to face him. you all followed, and you couldn't resist teasing him.

"hope you don't think it's because of you, baywatch." james shook his head sagely.

"i would never dare. i mean, clearly, this is the place to be." he gestured around the facility, obviously referring to the fact that you and your friends were the only people there aged between 15 and 30. lily laughed then, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair to look at him properly.

"is this your way of asking where people actually hang out?" james shrugged. "to be completely honest, most of our age group sleep through the day to do dumb shit at night, it's the best way to escape the heat," she explained.

"the few that are awake usually hang around the arcade," marlene added, "or the village -- that's the shopping centre. usually our group hang out there if it's horrid weather, there's a decent cinema and a music shop, passable food as well." james nodded, looking genuinely interested in what marlene had to say about it.

"maybe you'll all have to show me around it one time," he said cheekily, and you all made entertained noises at his forwardness.

"desperate for our company, are you?" you teased, but james just shrugged easily.

"i told you yesterday, i literally have zero friends here." there was something charming in his openness about being a complete loser, and you could tell the others felt similarly.

"don't be silly, james, we'll be your friends," lily said kindly, using the same tone she did when talking to the kids she tutored.

"yeah," marlene agreed, "you can't be any worse than the other tossers we're friends with." you all laughed at that, thinking of the boys who refused to accompany you to the pool.

"and they've not come with you?" james asked, catching onto the unsaid easier than he probably should as a relative stranger.

"they wouldn't be caught dead. sirius cares about his hair too much to even be around all these germs, and remus tries not to be in the sun if he can avoid it. poor peter refuses to be the only guy hanging out with us, I think we still scare him a little after all these years," mary joked, and james looked utterly delighted to be hearing about your lives.

he excused himself not long after to get back to the job he should've been doing the whole time, and you admired the way his arse looked in the swim shorts as he left.

"he seems nice," you muttered, and the others agreed. lily raised one perfect red eyebrow.

"are we talking about his personality or the body you can't stop staring at?" you gasped, not offended at her statement but more than willing to pretend.

"are you calling me a whore?" you asked with a hand over your chest.

"you said it," marlene quipped and you cried out in protest, lines of mock outrage spilling from your lips.

you got bored of bickering quickly, the heat taking most of the fight out of you. you sat in relative silence for a while until lily declared it time for more water, taking marlene to go buy you all bottles from the corner shop down the street. the ones at the tragic pool bar were never cold and she wanted ones from the fridge. that left you and a sleeping mary on either side of your line of chairs. you pushed yourself up to a sitting position, leaning over to grab the magazine lying on marlene's towel.

you flipped through it lazily, but couldn't stop your eyes from drifting up to where james sat in his lifeguard's chair, wiping sweat from his brow. there was something about him that interested you (aside from the god-like body). he had an easy openness that you scarcely found in guys your age; he wasn't afraid to be lame or honest and didn't seem to be interested in making himself sound any better than he was to a group of four hot girls -- if you did say so yourself. he was refreshing, and not just visually.

as if he could read your mind james started approaching, and you quickly busied yourself in an article you couldn't care less about.

"hi," he said, standing in front of your chair. you looked up, feigning slight surprise, as if you hadn't been listening to his flip-flops grow closer.

"couldn't stay away?" you asked, closing the magazine in a way you hoped didn't look eager.

"you caught me," he sighed, smile making its way onto his face.

"shouldn't you be working?"

"i'm taking my break. thought i'd come keep you company."

"how generous," you mused, "would've thought you'd gotten enough of a view of me during your shift from up on that seat of yours." james had the decency to look mildly embarrassed for a moment, but it passed quickly and he took it in stride, sitting on the edge of your deck chair, careful not to drip water on your belongings.

"i'm only appreciating the natural beauty of this town. besides, someone's gotta do it if your boyfriend won't bother coming here with you, wouldn't want such a nice bikini to go to waste." you felt hot at the compliment and you knew it wasn't just the sun. you tried to play it off.

"are you asking if i'm single?" james paused for a moment, possibly thinking through his options, then nodded, unashamed. "you don't even know my name."

"you won't tell me."

"touché." you let yourself smile a little, loving the way james' eyes crinkled when he returned it. "done anything to earn it yet?" you could see him genuinely thinking and wondered whether he'd make up a miraculous story about an epic save he made just before you arrived at the pool.

"no, guess not." he settled on, disarming you again. the near-constant earnestness in his way of speaking hadn't stopped catching you by surprise yet, and you wouldn't be shocked if it never did.

"and what, no girlfriend up north to scold you for staring at my tits?" you teased as james' eyes flew back up to yours, only relaxing when he saw you weren't upset.

"free as a bird," he confirmed quietly, "though I'm sure it's of no interest to you." the air felt electric between you, had he always been this close? you were face to face, only a few inches between you. you could feel butterflies erupting not just in your stomach.

"obviously," you answered, similarly quiet. the moment felt inappropriately intimate despite the people around you. you were equal parts glad and furious when lily and marlene returned, unsure of what you might have succumbed to right there on the deck chair if you hadn't been interrupted. james looked equally worked up, hazy look in his eyes making him appear already fucked out. he stood with a start, excusing himself to get back to work.

"see you around, baywatch," you said, strategically reapplying some lipgloss. you didn't miss his glance at your lips.

"hope so, dollface." you were glad james was leaving because the nickname made you falter, going straight to your ovaries. you'd done it to yourself yet were no more prepared, staring dumbly after him.

you tried to play it off quickly, picking the magazine up where you left off and flipping through noncommittally. you could feel your friends' eyes on you and pointedly ignored it, eyes trained down at some 'best-dressed' list you'd found.

"just your luck that you get first dibs on the hot new guy," mary complained, but you could tell she wasn't all that bothered.

"you are going to eat him alive," marlene laughed and lily nodded, the two of them already sharing condolences for james. you didn't say anything, but judging from the coil still wound tight in your lower belly, maybe it wasn't james they had to be worried about.

i need him fr

[lokicraft]

Self indulgent idea about task force 141 rescuing a wrongly-kidnapped scientist/researcher reader. Gender neutral reader, implied American reader implied violence and torture, implications about the reader looking young (I imagine the reader being between 20 and 30 years old). I see it as future tf141xreader, but feel free to imagine otherwise and/or take this idea and run with it as you please. MDNI.

————

Imagine you are a government researcher. Technically a government employee but you are pretty low on the ladder, just starting out at a research laboratory on a small military base. You are so excited to start working with your supervisor/PI, a very influential scientist who has their fingers in a lot of research pies (some more secret than others).

But you have nothing to do with the secret stuff. You’re more interested in environmental research (of which the military does have to pay at least a little bit of attention to, so you work with what you get).

You’re getting out of the lab late one evening, having to stay even after your PI left to clean glassware (your least favorite task). You lock the door to the research building and walk to your car, only to see someone else parked next to you. The hood of their car is open and they look distressed. You don’t recognize them but it’s not like you know everyone on base. So when they ask you for a jump start you agree and start rooting around your car to pop the hood. You just got your hand around that pesky lever when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head and everything goes dark.

————

You wake up in a dingy concrete room with your arms and legs tied to an equally dingy chair. You are shocked, panicking and in pain, but through the ringing in your ears you hear shouting from outside the room.

“What do you mean that’s not Dr. Scaffer?” An angry accented voice shouts.

“It was bad intel!” Another voice insists, same accent as far as your fuzzy brain can register, “we did not get any physical description, only that they would be the last one out!”

“A head research scientist with top secret clearance won’t look like a kid who just got out of college!” You hear a muffled bang - your heart stops beating in your chest - but the voice continues, dismissive, “I have to do everything myself.”

He enters the room.

————

Two hours later, not that you can really keep track, you are left alone again. Significantly more injured from what you just went through (your brain cannot even ponder the word “torture” through the unceasing static of your thoughts), you realize that you are going to die. Whoever kidnapped you grabbed the wrong person, and unless they want to know about the water quality of the watershed around base you don’t have any information they want. You are no use as a hostage, and you are going to die. You can only hope it will be quick and painless—

You can’t breathe, you were never good at handling stress.

At least when you’re unconscious it doesn’t hurt anymore.

————

Recovering VIPs is well within their capabilities, Gaz thought to himself as he recounted the brief they were given a short two hours ago. But usually if it was a researcher they were rescuing then their area of expertise would be weapons technology, or infectious diseases, or something that’s not water chemistry. It’s not his job to judge, it’s his job to get you back home where you belong. However the judgmental voice in the back of his mind can’t help but kick in, remembering the profile photo they were provided of you.

“They’re quite a cutie, no?”

Gaz is knocked out of his thoughts when Soap catches up to him, both fully geared up and heading to airstrip. Wheels up is in 15 minutes, and Gaz is sure their Captain and Lieutenant  are already in the transport. While Ghost is probably just sitting and “brooding” as Gaz likes to call it, he gives Price a 50/50 on being on the phone with Laswell. Their Captain probably wants to know how a young researcher got kidnapped from an American military base only to end up as a hostage in Russia. Hell, Laswell probably wants to know that too.

“Time ta go save us a bonnie researcher!” Soap proclaims picking up the pace and rushing in front of Gaz. It’s obvious Johnny shares the same thoughts as Kyle when it comes to your appearance, only one is better at keeping those thoughts to themselves.

“Yeah let’s make sure we get them back alive” Gaz responds, his sharp mind working overtime to calculate how long your captors will keep you alive once realizing you are not a spring of top secret information nor a high profile bargaining chip.

“Of course we will mate,” Soap declares, his sober tone almost catching Gaz off guard, “with LT back on the roster we’re at full strength again, n’one left behind.”

Gaz agrees with the sentiment, and taps Soap on the chest lightly as they approach the transport.

“No one left behind”

————

Thanks so much for reading, this is my first time writing something like this so I’m still trying to get the character’s ‘voices’ right and all that. If you decide to build off this idea please tag me! I appreciate y’all 💚

[coolbanana44]

The Curse - C.L

AN: My first attempt of angst lol. Let me know if you guys want some more angst! Like always let me know you liked it by giving it a like! Requests are open as well.

Summary: Charles being worried about you at his home race.

He was begging to worry. She told he she would be here, he thought. It was his home race and all he has been hearing about is his curse from fans, reporters, interviewers, and even some of his team. He needed you here, supporting him and comforting him the way you always do before the race. You would say mon amour don’t overthink, I can see it all on your face. You are gonna be amazing no matter what happens and I will be so proud of you no matter the outcome. But now you aren’t here to say those comforting words and he is starting to panic as he doesn’t see your smile anywhere in the garage.

You last texted him about 30 minutes ago saying you were leaving from work, which is only 10 minutes away from the track. Maybe you went to get him some coffee from that cafe you like….. or maybe you got stuck in traffic…. Or you were in the bathroom before you came to see him. He didn’t want to think of worrisome scenarios that would make him spiral, but it was 15 minutes till race time and he wanted to see you and give you a kiss and do your secret handshake before he climbs in the car. He was stressing out looking at the red car wanting to make his dad proud, Jules proud, and even his country proud, but right now his focus wasn’t even on the outcome of the race, instead it was making sure you were okay. 

He looked at his phone and decided it was best to call you. But your phone went straight to voicemail as he heard your soothing voice say Hey you’ve reached Y/N! Sorry I couldn’t take your call. He then heard your laugh…… Charles stop it…… Please leave a message at the beep! When he left mis message his engineer told him it was time to get in the car. 

“Give me a minute.” He said as he walked over to his mom and Arthur.

“Hey have you guys heard from Y/N?”

His mother answered.

“No we haven’t. Why is something wrong?” 

“I don’t know, she didn’t answer her phone and she should’ve been here by now.” Pascale could see the distraught in her son's face, so she gave him one of her motherly hugs.   

“Charl I am sure she is fine and that she will be here soon. Finish the race so you can see your girl.”

He was grateful for his mothers words and pulled away from the hug to give her a kiss on the cheek. He walked back to his car and got ready for the race.

—------------------------------------------

20/78 laps and he was doing amazing. He was in third when he overtook Hamiliton on the 19th lap. He was proud of himself for keeping it smooth and steady so far.

“Okay Charles, we are looking to box on the next lap.” He heard the strategist say, but he could also hear his mom yelling in the background.

“What is the commotion about?” He started feeling worried again, not knowing what's

going on.

“Charles focus on the race.” Now he was angry as he could tell his mother was crying and yelling in the back. He lost his temper.

“Tell me now!” His hands gripped the wheel. This time he heard his mom.

“Charles, it seems like Y/N was in a bad accident. Arthur and I are going to the hospital right now.” His heart stopped. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the worst case scenario…. That you were dead. 

“I’m retiring the car.” He said stone cold, not wanting to cry while driving. His strategist came back on.

“No Charles you have to finish the–.”

“I SAID I AM RETIRING THE CAR!” He snapped. He couldn’t control his emotions. His heart was beating fast and he could even start to feel how much more his hands were sweating as he headed back to the pit lane. 

—-------------------------------------

He was still in his race suit when he ran through the hospital doors with his mom and brother. He was holding back tears as we walked up to reception.

“Y/N L/N, I’m here for Y/N L/N.” He tried to ignore how his voice cracked when saying your name.

“Are you family sir?” The old lady asked boringly.

“I am her boyfriend. Could you please just let me know where she is?” 

“She is on the 3rd floor room 316. It seems as though she just got out of emergency surgery, so it will be a little while before she wakes up.” He let the tears fall down his face when he heard the word surgery. He didn’t want to even think about how horrendous the crash was for you to be needing emergency surgery.

He didn’t even say thank you as he rushed to your room, not even caring if his mom and Arthur were following him. 

He took a deep breath when he got to your door, making sure not to break down before he sees you. When he finally opens the door he sees a doctor over by the machines writing stuff down in his notes. He then turned his head and saw you. You had a black eye and bruises all littered on your face. Your right arm was in a cast and you had wires all over your body. The sight alone made him want to puke and break down.

“She was T-Boned on the driver's side. We had to do emergency surgery as she had internal bleeding from the impact. She also broke her right arm in two places and we believe that she will have a concussion.” The doctor's voice pulled him out of his trance.

“Is she going to be okay?” He didn’t want to sound small and broken, but in this moment that’s what he was. 

“She will be fine. We are going to be monitoring her for a couple of days just to make sure that there weren't any complications with the surgery. I will give you some privacy.”

As the doctor walked out of the room, Charles made his way to your bed. He quickly bent down and grabbed your hand. He analyzed all the cuts and bruises on your face and was still amazed about how you were still the most gorgeous person he has ever seen.

  “Hi mon ange. I am so very glad you are okay.” he whispered. And it was like he was in a movie, cause as soon as he stopped speaking he heard you groan and start to flutter your eyes open. Once your eyes adjusted to the light you looked over at him. You smiled your perfect smile. Charles' heart warmed instantly when he heard your voice.

“Cha.” That was all you needed to say for him to start crying happy tears.

[smoothies-are-cool]

bad idea

jealous!chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris and reader have serious tension until they give in at a party.

warnings: pet names (baby, mama, ma), kissing, swearing, mention of y/n.

a/n: first fic so i hope its gooddd. i wrote this while listening to bad idea by dove cameron so that’s what this is inspired by :))

i met chris sturniolo when i was 16. he and his brothers came into my job and continued to come in everyday until one of them, nick, asked for my number and said he wanted to be friends. ever since then i’ve been super close with all of them.

chris had always been flirty with me and was known as a jealous guy, so when another guy got anywhere near me chris would be pissed. he would always joke about us dating or something and everytime i would tell him that we’re just friends.

8:43 pm - sturniolo residence

i was in nick’s bathroom, sitting on his counter so i could be closer to the mirror. i was touching up the last bits of my makeup for the party the triplets were invited to. they were each allowed one plus one but nick was the only triplet that actually wanted to bring someone. nick told me to hurry up and then left the room to put his shoes on.

getting off the counter i stepped into my dress, struggling to zip it all the way up. luckily for me, chris walked into the bathroom.

“hey you ready?” he asked, leaning against the doorway. he had a slight smirk on his face as he watched me struggle with my dress.

“almost but i can’t get this stupid fucking zipper. can you help me?” i huff, turning around and motioning to the zipper. he walks over to me, moving my hair out of the way, his fingers grazing the back of my neck as he did so.

he grabs the fabric just below the zipper, tugging it down slightly so it’s easier to zip the dress.

“there.” he smiles, moving my hair back to it’s place. the dress was a short, pink dress that hugged my curves perfectly. the heels i wore were short silver stilettos.

“thank you!” i walk past him, grabbing my heels and rushing downstairs. “okay okay i’m ready sorry!” i quickly apologize, all of us walking out the door.

9:15 pm - the middle of nowhere in the car

chris 🤍:

you look good ma

y/n <3:

thank you chris

chris 🤍:

i’m serious.

you look so fucking good

y/n <3:

i know

thank youuu

9:30 pm - the party

when we walk into the house the first thing i smell is weed and alcohol. my stomach churns at the smell. i sigh, already wanted to go home.

“what do we do now?” i ask as all of us stand awkwardly. almost on cue, one of chris’ friends walks up to us.

“YO STURNIOLOOO!” the kid yells, dapping up chris. i groan, immediately smelling the huge cloud of weed that followed him.

“oh my god i love this song!” nick beamed, pulling me towards the crowd of kids dancing. i smile hearing the song, dueces by chris brown playing.

“nick i’m in heels!” i laugh, practically tripping over my own feet. we made it to the dance floor in one piece and nick immediately started dancing. i stood there for a minute before i slowly started moving to the beat of the song. my hips swayed to the beat as one of my hands went in the hair.

“always hoping for the worst, waiting for me to fuck up.” i sing lightly, moving my hips as i slowly dropped closer to the floor. i felt eyes on me but ignored them as me and nick started dancing together.

10:58 pm - the party

me and nick had been dancing for at least an hour and i was so focused on dancing with my best friend that i didn’t even notice the guy come up behind me. when i felt someone grab my arm i quickly turned around.

“hey, i’m cameron.” he greeted, a smile on his face.

“y/n.” i say and he sticks his hand out for me to shake. i hesitate for a second. glancing around my surroundings i spot chris, who’s already looking at me. fuck he looks good. i shake off those thoughts and shake cameron’s hand.

“wanna dance?” i ask. he smiles and nods. we walk further into the dance floor, out of chris’ view. it’s for the sake of cameron because chris would be pissed.

11:03 pm - party still

me and cameron danced to one song before he was pulled away from me.

“hey baby.”

i look up to see chris. he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“who’s this?” chris asked, looking at cameron. chris’s jaw was clenched, he was very obviously pissed off.

“cameron.” cameron tells him.

“cool, so why were you dancing with my girlfriend?” my eyes go wide.

“uh sorry man she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.” cameron apologizes, walking away. i throw chris’s arm off me.

“what the fuck chris?!” i yell, making sure he can hear me over the music. he grabs my wrist and pulls me away from everyone. he walks us upstairs, finding an empty bathroom.

“chris what?” i question, watching as chris locks the bathroom door.

“why were you dancing with him?” he asks, dead serious. i almost laugh.

“because i wanted to have fun? why do you always do this?” i sigh, throwing my hands in the air in anger.

“you know why!” he shouts, my brows furrow together.

“no i don’t chris! you pull this shit every time, i genuinely don’t get it. do you just not want me to happy or something?” i snap, raising my voice even louder than his. one thing i’ve learned in life is that if someone is yelling at you just yell louder than them.

“i just don’t want you with anyone else!” he blurts out, immediately regretting it after saying it.

“shit.” he mutters, going to unlock the bathroom door. i quickly stop him, pushing the door closed.

“no no what do you mean?” i ask, looking up at him. he sighs.

“come on i’d like to think you’re not that stupid.” he moves closer to me, his hand resting on my forearm.

“no.” i shake my head, not wanting to believe it. he’s my best friend’s brother. how would they react? millions of thoughts run through my head. he nods his head and that was all i needed to confirm my suspicions.

“you really didn’t see it? me constantly flirting, calling you names and bringing up us dating. it was right there.” he explains, waiting for my response.

i look up at chris, my eyes meeting his. my breath hitches and my breath quickens.

“chris?” i whisper, inching closer to his face.

“yeah?” he softly says, his hands slowly moving up my arms. i shake my head, placing my hands on his cheeks and pushing my lips against his.

i pull away with a sigh.

“we shouldn’t be doing this chris.” i tell him, moving my hands down to his shoulders. we should be doing this, but yet i still wanted too.

“i know.” he whispers, slowly backing away from me. my eyes soften, realizing he thought i didn’t wanna do this.

i quickly grab his face, connecting our lips once again.

goosebumps ran down my body as chris’ hands went to my hips, lightly pushing my against the wall.

his hands dig into my hips causing me to let out a soft whimper. he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth. our tongues fought for dominance. his hands started roaming my body

“you’re so beautiful mama.” chris tells me, pulling away from the kiss and resting his forehead on my own.

i smile, pressing my lips to his again only to be cut off by a pounding on the door. i let out a gasp, jumping.

“y/n are you in there?”

“yeah!” i shout.

“have you seen chris? i can’t find him!” nick screams over the loud music. my eyes go wide.

“no i haven’t seen him.” i lie, looking up at chris who was struggling to get his laughter in.

“can you help me look? matt’s ready to leave.” nick tells me.

“yeah i’ll be out in a minute.” i yell to which i receive an ‘okay’ before he walked away.

me and chris looked up at each other and we bursted out laughing.

“i love you chris.” i tell him, hugging him too.

“i love you more baby.” he hugs me back, his arms going around my torso.

a/n: okay so first fic was written. i hate this icl and it took me like an hour even though it sucked but i kept listening to mesmerize by ja rule and ashanti so i powered through. i hope you like it atleast a little bit <33

@worldlxvlys 🤍

[hyperfixiation-station]

A Kiss And A Key(Happy Ver.)

TW: Blood, torture, violence

Paring: GhostxReader Summary: You had to go undercover and as a result, Ghost thinks you had betrayed him and the 141. He gets brought in to the base you are undercover at, and now you have to decide whether or not you let him suffer and protect yourself, or help him and risk the whole operation.

You were undercover, trying to get information on Makarov for the 141. It was a hard and painful mission, but you had said yes anyways. You had said yes, knowing you would never be able to hold the trust of your teammates, of your friends, of your family ever again. Price had not wanted to ask you, but he did, and you had agreed, much to his chagrin. You knew you were the only one who even had a chance of pulling this off, and you weren’t going to pass it off to someone less skilled only for them to get killed.

Things were going fine,for the most part. The hardest thing you had had to do was reveal you were a traitor. You will never forget the look in Ghost’s eyes as you shot Soap and walked away with Makarov. Of course, you didn't hit Soap anywhere fatal, just pistol whipped him and grazed the side of his skull, but from any point of view other than your own, it looked like you had shot him in the face. 

You rose in rank quickly after that, being able to dedicate your full time to ‘the cause’. Things were going well, and you started to think you might actually make it out of this alive. That is, until Ghost showed up, beaten, bloodied, and caught. 

You stand on the other side of the one-way mirror, watching Ghost get beat 9-ways to Sunday as he refuses to give out information. You hear him let out a small, pained cry and close your eyes, knowing what you have to do, even if it‘s going to get you killed. 

You spend the day preparing, packing a go-bag, obtaining the key to his cuffs, making sure you would be on rotation to ‘question’ him. You set the cameras to loop for 10 minutes at 8:30, make sure the power will shut off, knowing it will take 9 minutes to bring everything back online. You spend the day high-strung, on-edge about someone catching you before you even have the chance to save him.

 The time comes and you make your way down the hall, down the stairs, and to his cell, key stuck under your tongue. You nod to the guard outside of the door and take a deep breath before stepping in. 

“Traitor.” Ghost hisses when he sees you. His mask is off, blood running freely from his mouth. You say nothing, just kneel in front of him. Your heart hurts at how bloodied and bruised his body is. You touch his cheek, running a finger gently along a cut under his eye. He flinches back, spitting blood at you.

“Don't think so little of me.” You murmur softly, wiping blood from your cheek, “Why are you here? Did Price send you?” 

“I’m not telling you anything.” He snarls. You sigh softly, resisting the urge to cry at the absolute hatred in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, digging your thumb into a wound on his arm, “I’m so, so sorry.” He hisses, face contorting in pain and your heart falls even more. You continue like this for almost 15 minutes, you doing your best not to hurt him too much, and Ghost remaining tight-lipped and angry. 

“You know,” He gasps out finally, “Soap had hope for you. Said that you could have killed him but didn’t. It’s almost sad that I’l have to tell him he’s wrong.” 

You feel a flicker of hope in your chest, relief that maybe someone other than Price will show up to your funeral. 

“Tell him I’m sorry, will ya?” You ask softly. He opens his mouth to respond and you seize your moment, grasping his face and pulling him in for a kiss. He makes a muffled sound of protest and tries to push you off, stopping when he feels cool, hard metal being pressed into his mouth. 

“This hallway will be clear in 30 minutes for exactly 9 minutes.” You whisper in his ear, pressing a hand over his mouth as he tries to ask you a question, “Tell Price I’m sorry that I couldn’t give him everything he needed.” You press a kiss to his forehead, rise, and walk out the door. “Anything?” The guard by the door asks.

“He won't talk. He is as infuriating as he was when I left.” I roll my eyes, “Never did know what was good for him.” 

“Cheers to that.” You nod to the guard, walking briskly down the hallway. If you are going to have any chance of surviving this, you have to get out now. 

Rescue

Of course, it wasn’t that simple. You did still have a job to complete. You began to collect every scrap of intelligence you could find, anything to ensure this whole mission wasn’t in vain. It took you 3 days to get everything together, but finally, after 3 days of being scared of your own shadow, you were ready to leave. You planned it all out, preparing to slip out under the cover of darkness, when the guard changes. But life is never so easy. 

In those 3 days, they managed to figure out you were the one who helped Ghost escape, and when they did, all hell broke loose. You were dragged to interrogation, handcuffed to the table, and questioned for hours. You said nothing, and soon harsher methods were utilized to get you to talk. 

You didn’t break. No matter what they did, you never said a word. You held your tongue through the beatings, the waterboardings, the white room, through fingernails being removed, through stress positions, through electrocution. You would be proud of yourself for how you held up, if  you weren’t in so much pain. You latched onto the fact that someone *would* come for you, if only because you would miss your monthly rendezvous with Price. That alone gave you the willpower to not give up completely. 

You lay curled in your cell, back up against the wall in the fetal position when the door swings open. Nothing new, the guards liked to try to scare you. You automatically curl up tighter, bracing yourself in preparation for whatever was about to happen. You keep your face pressed into your knees, hiding from the world for one more second.

“I’ve got them!” You could tell he yelled it, but the sound is muffled in your ears. You shift slightly, unused to the sound in the quiet of your cell, and look up. A man crouches over you, his figure blurred and wavering. He looks familiar, but you are so exhausted and in too much pain to think about it.  He speaks again, and hope wells in your heart as you recognize the voice. 

“We’re gonna get ye outta here, okay little bird?” Soap winces at your bruised, malnourished form. Your clothes are in rags, and he can see your ribs through your skin, which is mottled with bruises, welts, and burn marks. His heart hurts as he sees the fear in your eyes when the medics touch you, collaring and loading you onto a stretcher before moving out. 

He follows behind, eyes never leaving your frail, trembling form. Price and Ghost wait outside, and Soap stops next to them, letting the medics take you away. Price looks guilty and Ghosts look haunted, as they see your broken form, and deep inside Soap gloats in their misery. 

“I shouldn’t have sent them on this op.” Price murmurs as he watches the medics load you into the chopper. Ghost stands with him, eyes never leaving your limp form. 

“Ye shouldn’ta sent them with no back-up.” Soap says, slightly annoyed, “It’s against regulations and if they die, it's on yer conscience” 

“I know.” Price says softly. He climbs into the driver's side of the truck once the chopper fades from view, and Soap discreetly nudges Ghost forwards. He takes his spot in the passenger seat, Soap in the back, and they drive back to base in silence.

“They’ll be okay.” The doctor says after hours of surgery, “But they have a long recovery ahead of them. They had a dislocated shoulder, fractured wrist, broken fingers, partially-healed broken ribs, multiple burn marks and contusions, a concussion, a major couple ear infection, and pneumonia. We also had to re-break their femur because it had started healing wrong, and we have them on an IV and feeding tube due to how malnourished they are. They should be coming out of anesthesia soon, if one of you wants to visit them.” 

Soap looks at Ghost and Price, expecting one of them to say something. But the guilt that's written in every fiber of their being answers that questions for Soap. 

“Ghost’ll go.” He says quickly. Ghost looks at him, and Soap can almost smell the fear. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at his friend's stupidity. How a man who had faced war, torture, and death on the daily with a straight face could be afraid of saying sorry, Soap would never understand. He shoves him forward, and watches in disbelief as Ghost somehow manages to hide behind the doctor as they walk down the hallway.

Ghost did not want to see you. Well, no. That's not exactly true. He did want to see you, but he didn’t think you’d want to see him. He had accused you of being a traitor, of betraying everything you had ever stood for, and you had saved him anyways. And got tortured for it. So to be the first face you saw when you woke up? He didn’t think you’d like that very much. 

Soap, on the other hand, had believed in you, even after you’d shot him. And here Ghost was, your partner, and he couldn’t even have that much faith in you. He spent this past month wracked with guilt, barely eating or sleeping as they counted down the days until they would be able to rescue you. 

The doctor guides him to your room, and he takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before opening the door to sit by your bedside. 

His eyes rake over your prone form, the guilt deepening as he takes in the multiple stitches and bandages, atrophied muscles, bruised skin, the tubes and wires sticking every which-way out of your body. 

“Hey.” He flinches, honest-to-gods flinches, too lost inside his head to notice you were awake. Awake, and sounding awful. Your voice was low and hoarse, and it hurt him to think about why. 

“Hey.” He murmurs, sliding into the seat by your bed with surprising grace. You don’t miss how his hands clasp together in his lap instead of holding yours. 

A frown crosses your face as you look up at him through glazed, unfocused eyes. Real or not, this sight of him has joy and fear warring in your heart. Joy, because you still love him, and you are glad your sacrifice was not for naught. Fear, because what if he still hates you? What if he never wants to see you again? What if he’s upset that you got rescued. You can’t help but think about how Soap was the one that found you. 

“How are you?” Comes out of his mouth, startling you. 

“D’nno.” you slur, “they’ve go’ m’ ‘n th’ gud dru’s.” He doesn’t respond, just nods and goes back to staring at you in silence.

“How ‘re y’?” You mumble. He looks up, his eyes dark and haunted, heavy with guilt. He doesn’t respond for a moment, surveying your broken form again. You almost cry, never once having seen him lay his emotions bare like that. Wake up.

“Fine.” He says finally, “alive.” He looks down, fingering his gloves. You don’t respond, just sink back against your pillows and watch him through hooded eyes. It amazes you how someone so big can make themselves look so small. 

“ ’m sor-.” 

“Do y’ h-” You stop, both of you speaking at the same time, the minutes of uncomfortable silence finally driving you to talk. 

“Y’ firs’.” You slur. He nods, staring at his hands as he opens his mouth. 

“ 'm sorry.” He murmurs, “I never shoulda doubted you. I jus-” He trails off, still not meeting your eyes. Hope blooms in your heart, a fragile thing you had not felt in months, a tiny little flame in your chest, fuelled by the thought that maybe he doesn’t hate you. You sigh softly, knowing there's no way that would be true. Wake up.

“Don’ be s’rry.  It w’s by d’sign tha’ y’ though’ I w’s a tra’or. I ne’er…I di’n’ thin’ I woul’ b’....I though’ y’ woul’ ha’e me wh’n I c’me ba’.” You pause, breath hitching, “Do y’ ha’e me?” 

“No.” The word is sharp, leaving his mouth without a thought. He shifts, finally meeting your eyes, and all you can see in his gaze is grief. 

“I ne’er…that’s why I was so angry.” He looks at you pleadingly, “I never stopped loving y’, ‘n I was so angry that I couldn’t…when Price said you didn’t show…” He trails off, and you just know that he is biting his tongue under the mask.

 It’s almost too good to be true, you think to yourself. Your exhaustion-addled brain was just conjuring up another story for you. At least this one he forgave you. You laugh wetly, wishing you could stick around. But no, you need to wake up.

 Wake up. 

Wake up and it will be gone. 

Wake up. 

Just wake up and you can stop this self-inflicted torture. 

Wake up.

Wake up! 

WAKE UP!

“Y/n?” You flinch at the touch on your arm, heart racing, your lips parted as you let out a startled cry. Ghost pulls his hand back, and once your vision clears you can see the worry in his eyes. “Are y’ back?” He asks softly, “y’r mind was gone there f’r a minute.” You pant softly, hands shaking as you take in the room around you. 

“Ghost?” You gasp, the room vibrant and swirling around you. Your vision tunnels, and you reach for him, needing to feel, to know that this is real. But you are too weak to even lift your arm that far, much less to sit up. You fall back, black dots dancing in front of your vision. 

Distantly you feel a hand on your forehead, tucking your hair back. A voice is whispering in your ear, but you can’t hear it. Your eyes flutter shut, the meds and exhaustion finally pulling you under. 

"Sleep." Ghost murmurs as your eyes slide shut, "I'll be here."

Part 2?

@alanalanalanalanalanna @bethabear12 @kyojuroslittleflame1 A/N: I'm baack!! Sorry I was gone for so long! I don't remember what order I said I was writing stuff in, so sorry about that. Feel free to remind me if you want :)

[ginnysgraffiti]

i didn't see any posts about art or patrick playing so i decided to write it myself :)

(forgive me if something's wrong, i haven't played tennis for a long time.)

this is just something random i've been keeping in my drafts, but don't worry i'll write some smut about art too.

also, tysm for all your requests, i swear i'm trying to keep up :,)

coach as reader, tennis obsessed art, determined art.

ART DONALDSON x yn.

that morning you were in a white tennis skirt and polo shirt, a cream-colored cardigan on top. a pair of new socks and a brand-new blindingly white pair of tennis shoes on your feet.

art was wearing his usual white uniqlo playing t-shirt with the blue collar, matching the sweat cuffs and shorts.

"okay baby, let's go over it again. patrick is taller, stronger, broad shoulders and definitely more confident. how will this affect your calculated and sharp strategy?" you asked, making sure he had perfectly locked his eyes into yours and was listening carefully.

"if he's stronger than me, i need to get him up to the net as much as i can, use perfect angles and always land properly. and he's probably feeling pretty confident, so i need to shake him, right at the beginning. if i can get patrick zweig worrying about whether his best friend is gonna beat him, then his best friend is gonna beat him."

"good answer." you smirked satisfied, resting your hands on your hips. you kissed him softly and caressed his cheek as he got ready and left the locker room.

when you walked towards the stands and took your seat, patrick won the toss and elected to serve first. you could visibly notice how tense your boyfriend was, but only an experienced coach could see how tense his muscles were.

art stood at the baseline and bounced the taut strings of his racket against his palm. he held the grip and turned it over in his hand.

patrick was standing across the court, in a black impatto branded sleeveless tennis t-shirt with red decorations on the right side and some checked grey shorts. as he stood up, you could see just how broad and tall she was, his cocky smirk playing on his lips as always as he searched for you in the crowd before turning around to art.

love serving love.

patrick tossed the ball up in the air and then cut across it with his racket. as art rushed for the ball, he calculated perfectly and thought that his best bet was to take it out of the air quick as you instructed him. but as he got in position, he saw his opponent approach the net. he was assuming art didn't have the power to hit a passing shot. and so, at the last minute, he hit a deep ground- stroke. zweig had to rush his return and hit it into the net.

the first point was art's.

love serving 15.

he looked at you as he made his way back to the baseline, and you smiled proudly.

your boyfriend crouched and waited for patrick's next serve. patrick's face was tight now. no more smirks.

suddenly, the ball came across the net, fast as a whip. art couldn't return it.

15-all.

serve after serve stunned both you and art, and you found yourself torturing the fabric of your skirt intensely.

30-15.

40-15.

and just like that, patrick zweig had won the first game.

art glanced over at your seat and saw your brows furrowed. tho, you couldn't tell what he was thinking.

now it was his serve. he landed each one exactly where he wanted it to go. he was setting up his shots a few strokes ahead. he kept him running all over the court. but every time, patrick returned it. their long rallies would inevitably end in patrick's favor.

art stayed alert. he met the ball each time, but regardless of how smooth and calculated his shots were, it just didn't matter. zweig took the first set 7-5.

you could tell art was exhausted already. during the break he wiped his sweat off with a towel, not even looking at you. you breathed in deeply. your boyfriend could not lose; it was not an option.

art thought that by getting that first point off him, he would have thrown him off. but he had actually awakened his opponent. art had given him a reason to play his fucking damn best.

art started to go for aces, each and every serve. it was risky; he knew he could double-fault and you had warned him about it, but it felt like his only shot. when the first one went well he looked at you, and you nodded with a serious look.

having your permission, he did it again.

his point.

his first serve was hard and bounced high. zweig dove for it and hit it out.

30-love.

your boyfriend glanced over at you as he went to pick up the ball, and you saw a smile creep over his face.

art hit another flat serve, whizzed past patrick.

40-love.

your boyfriend had him. just by looking at him from your seat, you could feel the tingle in the top of his head and down his back. you could feel the space in between his joints, the fluidity of hid muscles. you felt a hum in your bones.

art served the ball, low and fast. he returned it with spin that art understood innately, he knew where it would go, how it would bounce. art hit it back with the full force of his shoulder. pat's return went long and art went on to win the set. the score was now good for both, and it would come down to who won the next set.

zweig's first serve on the next game had art rallying back and forth for the point but ended in patrick hitting a low groundstroke that whizzed past him. you wanted to scream as you saw the ball bounce past art's racket. but you knew a coach like you wouldn't stand for that.

patrick zweig took control of the court. he broke art's serve, and he held him own. art showed up to the ball. he ran like hell. but it wasn't enough. when pat scored the last point, art fell to his knees. he held on to the ground for a moment and closed his eyes.

you stood up and focused your gaze on art as he approached patrick to shake his hand and pose for the photographers.

(...)

you and art made your way towards the locker room. as soon as he stepped in he immediately packed up his stuff and zipped his racket in its cover.

when he collapsed on the seat, you sat in front of him and looked at him closely.

"he said i played fucking amazing. amazing! he only said that because at the end i'm the one who fucking lost..." art said, his voice catching and breaking.

you shook your head. "you're wrong."

art raised his eyes and raised one eyebrow, annoyed.

"that was not the lesson you should take from this. try again." you continued.

"i hate tennis." he said, and then kicked his racket on the floor.

"no."

"i fucking hate patrick zweig." another kick.

"no."

at your word, he looked down at his worn out shoes. he was nervously playing with his fingers, and could not look at you.

that was the moment where he would think he had finally failed you, that he had proven himself unworthy of all the faith you had in him.

"are you done? -you said as he turned to look at you- with the hysterics?"

"i've never been prouder of being your girlfriend and your coach today than i have ever been in my life." you finished.

"how is that possible?" his lazy voice cracked before he could even finish.

"i know you're upset because you lost." you said, taking his racket so he wouldn't kick it again.

"i lost. which makes me a loser."

you shook your head with a smile on your face.

"i have been so focused on teaching you how to win that i have not taught you that everybody loses matches."

"i'm supposed to be the greatest, not everybody. art donaldson, the greatest player."

you nodded. "and you will be. today you proved that. you played the best you've ever played in your life today."

he looked up at you.

"have you ever hit that many groundstrokes that bounced just in front of the baseline?" you asked.

"no."

"have you ever served three aces in a row like you did today?"

he started tapping his foot as he listened to you. "no. but...m-my first serve was great today." he said, and it sounded more of a question than a fact.

"you were on fire, baby. you ran down the ball almost every shot."

"yeah, but then i hit it into the net half the time."

"because you are not yet who you will be one day."

he started tearing a bit, his guarded heart opening ever so slightly.

"every match you play, you are one match closer to becoming the greatest tennis player the world has ever seen. you were not born that person. you were born to become that fucking legend. and that is why you must best yourself every time you get on the court. not so that you beat the other person, or patrick, or-"

"but so that i become more myself." he finished.

"so...you're not gonna stop coaching me?" he breathed in a low whisper.

"never wonder again, baby. never."

"...we'll start again with training?" he asked shyly.

"we'll start again with training."

"and i'll beat patrick's ass?"

"and you'll beat patrick's fucking ass."

"...love you baby."

"love you too art."

"can we go for churros at the bar?"

"sure we can. the heart shaped ones."

[t-top-apologist]

At the end of the day the average civilian wishes to be catered to like an old money steel baron or perhaps one of those chaps from Downton Abbey. The entirety of modern society has come together to enable this, mass-producing cheap facsimiles of fortunes that should rightly either be built on child labor or perhaps serfdom.

Their lawns, taking up what could otherwise be used to grow crops or serve as "outdoor garage space," exist to ape the wide ranging estates meant for the nobility to chase down a fox while adorned in silly jackets. Their houses sport columns and stupid windows meant to imitate three different classical artforms at the same time because of something called "economies of scale." They even have male-centric social clubs meant for parlour games, discussing sports, and dining with friends, in this case franchised out under such names as "Buffalo Wild Wings."

This aping of the upper class continues to the hire of "artisans" to do relatively simple work deemed too complicated to warrant the time of the average citizen. It's not that the jobs are too taxing for your average person, but rather that the market has crystallized around the desire to live like budget royalty. Therefore they take their wafer-thin computers to artisans (now more commonly called "experts" or "Apple geniuses") for repair and have democratized the position of carriagemen to 22 year old dealership lube techs named Ryan who will turn a 15 minute job into a 30 minute endeavor thanks to frequent vape breaks and a brief brush with what the industry refers to as "a misplaced drain bolt."

The mid-40s project manager and mother of 3 is no less competent when changing oil than her grandfather before her who knew what "Valve Lash" is, but what separates the two is a series of wars in the 1900s that required an entire generation of men to become very familiar with operating and repairing machines better than the Germans and Japanese (an exercise that Chrysler would later abandon in favor of the phrase "if you can't beat em, join em").

This conflict ended with a surge of able-bodied men finding themselves returning to their project management jobs (like their granddaughters after them) but armed with captured German weapons and a comprehensive understanding of tubochargers. Just as a line can be drawn from troop drawdowns to political violence, there's a distinct correlations between GIs returning home and the violence with which Ford Flathead V8s were torn apart by inventive supercharging methods paired with landspeed record attempts.

Give a man a racecar and he'll crash it on the salt flats in a day. Teach a man to repair a racecar and it will sit in the garage of his suburban house for a few years in between complete engine rebuilds required by what can only be described as "vaporized piston rods."

Of course this hotrodder generation created the circumstances we live in today, as the market saw their fast cars cobbled together from old prewar hulks and simply stamped out new ones from factory, faster and more convenient for the next generation than building one from scratch. Now the project manager mother of 3 drives a 4wd barge with climate controlled seats boasting more computing power than the moon mission and an emissions-controlled powertrain with more horsepower than her grandfather's jalopy and her fathers factory muscle car combined. And she doesn't care at all.

Yet Amongst the average civilians there walks a rare breed: people who know how to change their own oil. We the chosen move among you silently, bucking the system, operating outside the cultural helplessness and trading in forbidden knowledge in almost-abandoned forum threads (flame wars over conventional vs synthetic).

While we do have a marked air of superiority about this, I can't say I haven't stooped to imitating the rich myself. I've been known to wear a silly jacket from time to time.

[we-were-born-to-be-free]

Omg omg! Aaron Warner x insecure reader?? Like maybe she’s beating herself up because of the way she looks. And thinks she doesn’t deserve Aaron?

Our Love - A.W

A/N: Thank you so much anon for this request. This one hit a bit too close to home, and I had a good cry making this. I loved this idea so much! I hope I did this justice. I also have this headcannon that Aaron would call Ella love in French, which is Amour, so I had to include this.

You had been in the shower for about an hour, but you didn't know that. Aaron did. He was pacing around your shared bedroom, panicking slightly. Your showers usually lasted 15 minutes, 30 at the most.

What scared him the most was what you were feeling. There was a horrible feeling of self-loathing and self-hatred that he so often felt. But why were you feeling like that?

There was a nagging voice in the back of his head, telling him to open the door to check if you were okay. But the other side of him was telling him to leave you alone, telling him that you were fine.

The small voice in his head got the better of him and before he even thought about it, he was knocking on the bathroom door. "Love? Can I come in please darling?"

He felt your emotions change from being sad and miserable to being scared. His heart broke when he walked into the bathroom and saw you sitting in the shower, still fully clothed, with your face in your hands.

"Amour, what's wrong," he asked quietly. When you didn't answer him, he starts undressing, even though he's already had a shower the same morning. But he didn't mind, because for you, he would do anything.

He gets into the shower and sits next to you, his body getting wet as he does so. "Darling? What's going on hmm? Why are you still dressed," he questions.

You look up at him with watery, red eyes. His heart ached for you, and your hurt that he felt almost killed him. He takes your hands in his, brushing them slowly with his thumb.

"Baby, why are you crying," he asked. You didn't answer again, but instead started shaking. "Love, hey," he cooed. "Its okay darling, c'mere let me give you a hug."

He pulled you into his warm embrace holding you close against him. He felt your body shaking as you sobbed into his shoulder. The pain you felt in this moment was unlike anything he had ever experienced through someone else.

He whispered reassurances into your ear, telling you that it's okay to cry and just be sad sometimes. Only then you answered him, saying that it wasn't okay to be crying all the time.

"Let's get you out of the shower Amour, then we can talk about what's bothering you." You nodded as you lifted your head off his shoulder. "I love you," he whispered as he kissed your forehead.

"I love you too," you whispered back.

He took your wet pyjamas off you and took your underwear off as well. "We're not going to do anything, okay? Just want to clean you up love."

You were okay with anything he wanted to do. You trusted him completely.

He washed your hair for you, making sure not to get any shampoo in your eyes. He lathered your body with your favourite body wash, kissing your cheek as he did so.

Once he was finished making you feel like a princess, correction his princess, he wiped your body with the fluffiest towel he could find and got your clothes out.

Well, not your clothes, his clothes rather. You basically own it now. He gave you your underthings, and a pair of grey sweatpants he used to own, and a baggy t shirt.

He put in a pair of his sweatpants and came to lay down with you. "Amour, what's going on? I could feel your emotions when you were in there, you know. Why were you feeling like that baby?"

"I- I'm so sorry, Aaron. I didn't mean to worry you, but I'm fine. I am completely okay," you say, not even trusting yourself to believe you.

"You were crying in there for an hour, darling. If it was nothing you wouldn't have been in there for so long. Come on my love, you know you can tell me anything," he reassures you.

You weren't sure your tears had started, but they caught your attention now. You quickly wiped them away before saying, "Okay, maybe something is wrong. But it's so stupid, a-and I just don't want to bother you be-because you're always so busy and I just don't want to be annoying."

When you had started crying and shaking, Aaron had grabbed onto both your hands again, moving closer to where you were seated. He kissed your forehead gently before beckoning for you to go on.

"I just- I feel like I'm not good enough for you. Like I can't give you what you want. I- I'm a shit leader, I'm way too soft, and I can't run the fucking Reestablishment by myself," you explain.

"Moreover, I'm so fucking ugly! I don't understand why you would want me, or why you even broke up with Lena! I mean she's perfect, she's pretty, she really cares about you, you know?"

Aaron feels your hurt and guilt as you try to explain this to him. But he also realises that you've been carrying this with you for a long time.

"My love," he cooed. "Lena does seem to care for me on the outside, but she has an ugly heart. But you, my darling, you are beautiful inside and out. There isn't anything about you that I don't love."

"Stop it, Aaron."

"Stop what, Amour?"

"Stop making me out to be someone I'm not," you say with a shuddering breath.

He freezes and for a second you think you went too far. "A-Aaron I didn-"

"I'm sorry. I am so so sorry love. I know that all this is new for you, and in a way it's new for me too. But yet I haven't been kinder to you about the situation.

"But why do you deem yourself unworthy of love, my darling? Why do you think that you are not beautiful, that you are not worthy of the pleasures you're given?"

"Because everyone is always talking about us, Aaron," you say as you look up into his eyes stunning green eyes. "All the supreme children are talking about us all the time, and I hate it, Aaron. I feel like they're talking smack about us, about why you would ever love someone like me.

"I don't mind it if they keep talking shit about me, but I cannot stand anybody talking shit about you."

He looked into your eyes as they became glassy with unshed tears.

"Darling, they don't talk about you, or me, like that. They admire our love. They envy our love, Amour. They wish they could find a love like ours. They know that I would burn this world for you, and as shown now, that you would beat up anyone talking smack about us," he reassures you. "I love you. I love you and you only. I never cared about anything in the world except my mother, but you gave me something to lose. Someone to care for. You are so, so fucking perfect, my darling."

He pulls you into his arms and kisses you lips softly as you wrap your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist. You pull away from him slightly, only now just realising what he said.

You chuckle as you say, "Did Aaron Warner just swear telling his girlfriend she's pretty?"

"There were so many things wrong with that sentence, baby." he says with a smirk. "First of all, you're my future wife, second of all, you are stunning. There's a huge difference darling."

You bury your face in his neck, which is now red from embarrassment. He stroked your hair calmly, holding you close to him and kissing your shoulder.

"I love you, okay? I will always love you, my beautiful, beautiful wife. You are mine, and I am yours and will forever be," he whispered into your ear.

If it was possible, your face became redder. Aaron felt your emotions shift again, but this time to love and a feeling of belonging.

"I love you too Aaron. I love you so much. Thank you," you say, wrapping yourself tighter onto him.

[yuhzz]

1 hr. and 30 mins. - h.ec x fem!reader

summary: all eunchae ever wants is to spend time with you, so why can't you? oh, right. other girls are always butting in and ruining your date, that's why.

warning: fluff. jealous eunchae.

word count: 2.3k words

==============

you lived in the shadows ever since you were young, meaning that you've been an outsider, an outcast ever since forever. a 15-year-old teenager who's afraid to make friends. people call you a coward for it but you just try your best to ignore the things they're saying.

it's currently 8:09 in the morning and you were walking across the hallway to your designated classroom to drop your bag off. your class starts at 8:30.

as usual, you came earlier than everybody else. just being the usual model student you are. every single day, when you arrive early, you spend your time walking around the campus, if not though, you read books inside the classroom.

today, though, was different.

when you arrived in front of the classroom, the door was open.

well, that's weird.

"the door should be closed...why is it open?" you mumbled to yourself before adjusting your glasses.

you stepped inside and there you saw another person sitting right next to your seat. the girl, on the other hand, noticed your presence so she turned around and met your eyes with cold ones.

"h-hello" you stuttered, slightly scared of the girl's cold character. the other ignored you and looked away from you.

'well, that was mean' you thought and sighed. slowly, you walked towards your seat.

'of all the seats that she can choose from, why did she ever have to choose the one next to mine?' you looked down. 

When you arrived in front of your seat, you dropped your bag and slowly walked away from the chair. you sure were scared about the fact that the girl who was sitting next to your chair might be a delinquent or something.

"calm down, i don't bite" the girl joked, her tone still as cold as ice.

"i know but...safety precautions?" you were unsure.

suddenly, the girl stood up which kind of alarmed you making you raise both of your arms in the air and close your eyes. you heard the girl chuckle.

all of a sudden, you felt a hand on your shoulder making you open your eyes open again.

in front of you was a smiling princess who looks like a damn cute kid. you slowly relaxed as your arms began dropping down slowly.

"i'm sorry, if my cold demeanor earlier, scared you" the girl apologized with her tone happier this time.

"i'm eunchae by the way" eunchae introduced herself.

"I-I..." you were unsure if eunchae was genuine or not. but regardless, maybe eunchae can be your first friend - the first one at that.

"I'm y/n"

==============

"y/n-ie!" eunchae shouted as soon as she saw you in front of the school gates. just 2 months after you met each other, both of you got closer.

back then, you would arrive 30 minutes before classes but now that you had found out that eunchae arrives an hour earlier, you push yourself to wake up and arrive earlier.

"eunchae-ah!" you exclaimed as eunchae hugged you tight as if she hasn't met you for years.

"my y/n-ie..." eunchae trailed off with a smile on her face. you, on the other hand, blushed at what the latter had said.

suddenly, your heart began beating faster when eunchae unexpectedly brought her face closer to yours.

"omo, why is my y/n-ie so red?" eunchae teased even further.

"s-stop it!" you said and gently pushed eunchae's face away from yours. "what the- you're pushing my face now?" eunchae pouted, and you panicked.

"n-no~!! i-it's just that, uhh" you continued panicking until eunchae laughed.

"you're cute, you know that?" eunchae giggled. "oh..." was all that you could say.

"let's go?" the latter asked you and you could only nod. you let eunchae take you away. this is the reason why both of you agreed to arrive an hour earlier. so that you can spend time together for an hour and 30 minutes.

inside that 90 minutes, you get to decide where to go and waste your time in.

this time, you don't really know where you're going since eunchae told you to leave the decision-making up to her. so here you are, letting eunchae drag you all over the city.

eunchae planned to do 9 things, each thing that she wants to do with you was only limited to 10 minutes so that when the time hits 8:30 am, you'll be right on time for your first class.

now, the clock strikes 6:58 am, and your time together begins.

=+==+= 7:00 am - 7:10 am =+==+=

your first destination was a Dog Café.

good thing this Dog Café's just near your school that's why it took you just 2 minutes to arrive.

here, eunchae planned to have fun with dogs for 7 minutes, and the remaining 3 minutes will be your remaining time to go to the next destination.

though cramped and the time's short, it was still worth it to do since she was with you.

at exactly 7:00 am, both of you stepped inside the Dog Café. eunchae took out her phone and started a 7 minutes timer. as soon as she did so, eunchae ran towards the dogs and let them lick her all over her face.

you, on the other hand, were too scared to even breathe. damn, these gigantic dogs scare you so much.

you stood still by the entrance until suddenly, the biggest dog of 'em all approached you and sat in front of you.

The dog tilted his head towards you, his tail wagging uncontrollably.

"looks like she's interested in you" one of the personnel walked towards you. you uncomfortably smiled while looking at her, still afraid that the dog might eat you alive.

the employee laughed lightly.

"don't worry, she doesn't bite" 

"i know but i'm still scared- wait... she?" you asked.

"yep, why? did you think that she was a he?" 

you nodded and scratched your nape out of embarrassment. the employee giggled.

"You're funny" she continued laughing before lightly slapping your shoulder.

'Eh? What was so funny about what I said?' you pondered. 4 minutes in and yet you're already making somebody else laugh.

eunchae, on the other hand, couldn't handle the way the personnel laughed. she thought of the personnel as...maybe...someone who should be eliminated? not the type of eliminate where she's going to k!ll her- no. definitely not like that.

it's more like a talent show where there can only be one winner.

"i'm chaewon" chaewon offered her hand for you to shake.

and in that talent show, chaewon's a contestant who eunchae felt like should oust.

so! eunchae came up with a plan that was smart enough to catch everyone's attention.

"here goes nothing" she sighed.

"AHH! Y/N-IE!!!! THE DOG IS EATING ME" believe it or not, this was the best idea she could ever come up with at the moment.

besides, this sounded even better inside her head.

your eyes widened as soon as you heard this. you immediately looked at eunchae.

even though you were not really a dog lover, you still know the differences between "eat" and "play".

you sighed.

"eunchae-ah, the dog's only playing with you..." 

long story short, eunchae's plan didn't work but she knows that she had successfully eliminated chaewon from the talent show.

if chaewon can giggle and laugh cutely, eunchae can scream her lungs out fully. finally, eunchae's 7 minutes alarm went off.

it's time to go to your next destination.

you and eunchae thanked everyone inside the Dog Café. eunchae took your hands and walked towards the next place she planned to go to.

=+==+= 7:10 am - 7:20 am =+==+=

another 10 minutes to spend with each other means another fun and happy time. at exactly 7:10 am, just as eunchae planned, you arrived inside a perfume store.

you're not exactly here to buy but rather, you're here to act like you're going to buy. you know? like hit and run except that it's called;

"smell and run," eunchae said and giggled.

"that's what we're here for y/n-ie" she added. this time, you'll only have 4 minutes to check out the perfumes and the remaining 6 minutes will be your time to go to their next destination.

"good morning!" a female staff approached you.

"good morning to you too" you greeted back and smiled. "ah, may I help you?" the female staff named 'sakura' asked.

"not really-" 

while you were talking with the staff, eunchae spent her time looking around without forgetting to set a 4 minutes alarm. "ahh, so you're here to take a look around with your friend?" she asked.

friend....damn.

"it seems so" you chuckled.

eunchae, who was too focused on looking around, stopped what she was doing when she noticed that you were too busy with another girl...again.

"seems like a tough opponent" eunchae hummed.

looks like there's another contestant that eunchae has to beat.

another plan to make. eunchae thought of it deeply.

"y/n-ie! can you help me???" 

eunchae asked you for help and of course, you willingly followed. in the end, another contestant was eliminated.

sakura may be sweet but eunchae begins to be sweeter.

just like that, 4 minutes are finally over. now starts your 6-minute walk.

=+==+= 7:20 am - 8:00 am =+==+=

would you look at that? a sudden change of plans.

eunchae couldn't afford to have you distracted by another woman. besides, she's getting tired of coming up with ideas on the spot, it's too brain damaging.

anyways, arcade! a fun place to spend your time if you have nothing else to do.

this time, eunchae swears if one more girl approaches you, she's gonna lose it.

for 30 minutes, both you and eunchae enjoyed your time together, hopping from one game to another. after that, eunchae told you that she was just going to buy the two of you drinks and snacks.

and when she got back, guess what?

2 ridiculously beautiful girls are laughing with you.

as soon as eunchae saw this, her hand slowly crushed the canned soda she bought. oh, y/n...may you rest in peace.

"that's it" eunchae growled. she placed the soda on a chair and walked towards you.

"jagi-ah~!" eunchae sweetly called out.

you were startled right after that. the 2 girls who were with you, however, remained unbothered. "j-jagi?" you gulped.

'I thought we were supposed to keep it lowkey?' you thought.

eunchae clung into your arms.

"oh! who are they JAGI?" eunchae asked, making sure that the 2 girls will know their place.

​​​​​​​"w-well..." for the second time, after eunchae met you, you were once again scared.

​​​​​​​"...s-she's kazuha and she's yunjin" you began praying. ​​​"oh, really?" eunchae smirked.

​​​​​​​"yes, you 2 must be friends? anyways, we were just asking y/n if she's available-" eunchae didn't even let kazuha finish and said, "so she is not and she will never be because as you can see, she's with me and will always be with me" 

​​​​​​​"sheesh, that must be suffocating for you y/n-ssi" yunjin added. now it was very clear that both kazuha and yunjin were trying to piss eunchae off.

and they did.

after what eunchae has heard, her arms softened and her confidence was slowly disintegrating. the other 2 girls noticed this and chuckled right after.

you were worried about her though. not only a few minutes after, eunchae also stopped clinging onto you.

for the rest of the 10 minutes, eunchae remained silent and let kazuha and yunjin take away her lover's attention.

but no matter how hard they try to do so, your attention was focused on eunchae.

after that, eunchae's alarm went off. she stood still and did not urge you to leave and go to your next destination.

ok, that's enough.​​​​​​​ you sighed.​​​​​​​ "nice to meet you girls but, just like what eunchae said earlier, i'm not really available" 

​​​​​​out you, and eunchae, go.

=+==+= 8:00 am - 8:30 am=+==+=

this time, you were the one dragging her. "where are we going?" eunchae coldly asked.

​​​"we're going to the place I cherish the most" you sweetly stated. about 6 minutes later, eunchae noticed that you just passed the perfume shop. 4 more minutes passed and after that, you walked past the dog café. eunchae noticed that you were walking back to where you met earlier.

​​​​​​​"what are we doing back here?" eunchae asked you as she looked at the school's gates. you said nothing and only smiled at her.

you went inside and walked through the hallways.

after walking for a while, you came to a stop in front of the classroom where you first met each other.

​​​​​​"you know, eunchae-ah, I really love this classroom" ​​​​​​​the latter raised her eyebrows. ​​​​​​​"why?" she asked.

​​​​​​​"Because..." you guided eunchae towards her seat.

​​​​​​​"...this was the exact place where you were sitting that day, and i..." you let go of her hands and walked back towards the door.

​​​​​​​"...i was standing here" you smiled.

"i never thought that it'd be you" 

"what?" eunchae was confused.

​​​​​​​"i never thought that you would be my first friend..." 

you took 1 step closer to her.

"...i never thought that you'd be the first person to laugh with me..." ​​​​​​​

you took another step.

​​​​​​​"...i never thought that you'd be the first one to eat with me..."

​​​​​​​another step.

​​​​​​​"...and i never thought that you'd be the first person i'd fall in love with" 

and another one.

you were now standing in front of eunchae. ​​​​​​​"eunchae-ah, believe me, or not, i never regretted nor hesitated when it came to you"

​​​​​​​you held eunchae's cheeks and caressed them.

​​​​​​​"you'll always be my first and my last...no matter what anybody says" 

​​​​​​​you kissed eunchae's cheeks and hugged her tight.

​​​​​​​"eunchae, my manchae, i love you" 

​​​​​​​"i love you too, y/n-ie"

an hour and 30 minutes was enough.

enough for you to make her feel loved.

[nordicpoppie]

Mafia au - You're protective of his child - Hyung line

This is a mafia reaction, meaning guns, cursing and violence and the like may be mentioned (Nothing too much in detail in this one) In this reaction reader is NOT the birth mother of the child, which is why members will be surprised or happy reader is so protective…even if it’s overprotectiveness heheee The kids are NOT toddlers in this one, they are anywhere between 6 and 15 years old, so sorry if you wanted toddlers XD Y/N → Your Name

Jin (13 years old)

“Are you sure you don’t need me or your dad to walk with you? I’d be more than happy to, even if it’s just halfway there”

You said while Yerin, Jin's daughter threw her jacket on. Jin had, for some reason you couldn’t comprehend, allowed her to walk to school, with no guards.

At the start of your relationship with Jin, you hadn't even known he had a daughter. And you had been confused many times by his protective tendencies, but as you’d later found out, that was because of his “job”. As a part of the mafia, he needed to protect those closest to him, which meant you and Yerin always had at least 1 guard with you.

Over time his tendencies to be overprotective had rubbed off on you, except you were a little less, “lets fire guns”, and more of a “let's stay inside”. 

You reluctantly handed Yerin her bag, as she stretched her arms out for it. Then smiled tightly at her as she smiled brightly saying her goodbyes to you, before she closed the door behind her.

As soon as the door was closed you rushed through the hallways, reaching Jin's study in no time. You threw the door open without bothering knocking first.

“Jin, why are you letting her walk without her guards? Or even just one of us?”

Staring harshly at him, not caring that he was clearly busy with some papers, while Namjoon and Yoongi leaned over the desk.

Jin slowly raised his gaze to you, while Yoongi quietly sniggered under his breath at your anger. The look Jin sent you almost sent you reeling, he looked confused, as if he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Your daughter Jin, Yerin? You just let her walk out the door ALONE!”

You hissed angrily at him, your arm gesturing to where the front door was located.

“She’s not alone though?”

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, the only person who had walked out the door was Yerin. As you opened your mouth to explain that, Jin interrupted you.

“Jungkook is shadowing her, and he’s picking her up from school later today too”

His brows were still pinched in slight confusion, how could even think he would let his precious daughter leave without a guard.

“O-oh, I just, she said she would be walking…Alone”

You trailed off as a slight blush made its appearance on your cheeks. Desperate to find a way to escape the now almost embarrassing situation you made up a lousy excuse.

“I’ll just…Uh…Start cooking”

With that you made your escape out of the door, only making it a few steps down the hallway before Jin grabbed you by the arm. He wore a huge smirk on his face, and you could hear Yoongi cackling from inside his office.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to beat me when it comes to being a worrywart, baby”

Yoongi (6 years old)

“Dad?”

A small voice called from the entrance of the living room. You and Yoongi were currently lounging on the couch, watching a show, having put his son to bed just 30 minutes earlier.

Yoongi turned to face Hyun, while you grabbed the remote to pause the show.

“Dad, can i have a gun in my room, I think there’s someone under my bed”

You nearly choked on your spit at his words, feeling Yoongi's arm stiffen around your shoulders. Yoongi knew you hated guns and violence with a passion, hell, he had been frightened you’d leave, when you first found out he was in the mafia. But all you had told him was to never have a gun visible inside your home.

As contradictory as it was, to have a no gun zone inside your home, it had worked…So far. Hyun knew what his dad did for work, not the bloody and violent part, but he knew of the guns.

Clearing your throat you tried to come up with an alternative to the guns, you were not going to hand a gun over to a 6 year old.

“Hyun sweetie, how about i sleep with you tonight, I can scare whatever’s hiding under your bed away”

Hyun frowned before glancing at Yoongi, clearly not too happy with your idea.

“Mom, you’re not strong at all, if I can’t have a gun i want daddy to sleep with me”

Yoongi choked down a laugh, coughing slightly in an attempt to hide it, as you slapped his arm.

Turning to Hyun you pouted playfully at him.

“Awh but Hyun, then mom will be all alone in the big bed”

He almost gaped in shock at your words, realizing you would in fact be alone in the big bed without Yoongi.

“I’ll just sleep with you in the big bed then!”

Turning he ran as fast as he could to grab his pillow from his room.

“Yoongi…Would you have given him a gun if I wasn’t here?”

You questioned quietly, watching his face for any changes that could reveal his thoughts. Sighing, he dragged a hand through his hair, before smiling sadly at you.

“Younger me probably would have”

“MOMMY! Come on!”

Hyun yelled from the bedroom, dragging you from the rather heavy conversation. You got up squeezing Yoongi’s arm, but turned to him just before you left the room.

“You’re NEVER giving my child a gun, even if it’s a life or death situation, do you hear me Yoongi?”

His eyes glided over your face, noting how serious you were, but also how protective and fierce you looked in that moment. Nodding his head he watched you disappear, before he chuckled to himself. He almost couldn’t believe how protective you were of his son.

Namjoon (10 year old)

You had gone to the park that afternoon with Aera, Namjoons daughter, she had been begging you all day

“Please, please, please lets do something” and “It’s so boring inside, mom I’m bored”

So you had relented and gone to the park, unable to withstand her puppy eyes.

You were watching her on the playground, sitting on a bench a few meters away, not wanting to disturb her. However, you got disturbed by a phone call, picking up the device, you saw Namjoons name.

“Joon, what’s wrong?”

Hearing his warm laughter in your ear, you relaxed a bit.

“I’m just calling to hear how it’s going, and to ask what you want for dinner tonight, I’m cooking after all”

You almost grimaced, remembering the last time he made dinner, he had somehow managed to burn scrambled eggs.

“Mommy watch me!”

Aera yelled from the top of the slide, making you smile at her, nodding your head telling her to go down it.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea Joon? I mean last time was-” “Don’t mention last time! I practiced, remember I’ve been getting lessons by Jin-hyung”

You chuckled at Namjoons words, somehow having trouble believing he’d improved just by having Jin teach him.

He continued talking about what kind of food he’d learnt to make from Jin, but you got distracted, noticing the sudden absence of Aera on the playground.

Getting up from your spot, your breathing got faster as you circled the playground looking for her.

“-ing heavy? Y/N! Answer me, what’s happening?”

You heard Namjoons panicking voice in your ear, having completely forgotten the phone call. Not knowing what to say as you were on the border of just sobbing out loud you couldn’t give him any useful information, except a whimper of his name.

“Joon” “Taehyung track her location now! Fuck, baby just stay calm, I’m coming, okay, I’m on my way”

Tears were dripping down your face, listening to how fast he worked on finding you, it almost made you feel useless and weak. But you couldn’t help it, anything could have happened to his daughter, and it would be your fault.

A few minutes later you heard heavy boots pounding on the gravel road and you saw Namjoon followed by several armed men. He quickly ran up to you, grabbing your shoulders and inspecting you for wounds. When he found none he pulled you into a tight hug, making you choke up again.

“Joon, Aera, I-I can’t find her, she was just on the playground and then she wasn’t there, and I can’t find her Joon, what if something’s happened to her, or someone has taken her?”

You sobbed loudly into his chest, guilt eating away at you. Clenching his teeth Namjoon signaled his men to start scouring the entire park. He tugged you tighter into his chest, trying to reassure you that everything would be alright, but both of you knew he couldn’t be sure of that.

“Daddy?!”

You froze at the voice, turning quickly, seeing one of Namjoons men carrying Aera in his arms securely. Gasping you ran towards her, barely waiting for the man to put her down, before you had her in your arms.

“Don’t ever do that to me again Aera! Never leave without telling someone okay baby?”

As he was watching you, Namjoon realized just how deeply rooted your love and worry for his daughter was, making him smile slightly, despite the current situation.

Hoseok (15 year old)

“Mom? Mom wake up!”

Someone was shaking your shoulder making you groan slightly, it was still way too dark outside for it to be morning. Blinking slowly you saw Hwan sitting on the bed next to you. Combing a hand through his hair you sat up slightly, still confused.

“What is it baby? Did you have a nightmare?”

He grimaced at you grumbling out a “I haven’t had nightmares in years mom” before a loud clang was heard from the downstairs area. Getting out of bed you approached the door, ready to go out and find the cause of the noise. Hwan launched after you, grabbing your arm, and shaking his head fervently.

“Mom, someone’s inside, downstairs, with guns, it’s not dads men” “What?”

You gasped at him, suddenly not knowing what to do as your mind blanked. Of course you knew Hoseok was in the mafia, and you knew the dangers that came with it, but you never expected something like this to happen.

Feeling a tugging at your hand you saw Hwan attempting to lead you to the window.

“Mom we have to get out of here and call dad”

Shakily you nodded your head, wondering how he was so composed compared to you, but deciding to brush it off for now. Climbing out the window, you watched Hwan drop down to hang off the edge, before dropping into some bushes below. As you were following him, you heard the door in your bedroom bust open, followed by someone yelling.

“They’re outside!”

The bushes saved your fall, but they scratch up your legs, leaving small trails of blood. Sneaking behind Hwan you were trying to make it to the front of the garden, when someone suddenly grabbed him.

“Hwan! Let my son go!”

You yelled, grabbing a nearby vase and throwing it at the goons face, making him pass out.

Hwan stared at you, shocked at your actions, you were never one to pick violence, and you rarely got angry.

“Baby, sweetie are you alright? Let’s get out of here and wait for Hobi yeah?”

You smiled shakily at him, trying to exude calmness, but failing miserably.

You managed to make it a few blocks down the road, having called Hoseok on the way to come get you. Hwan had been holding your hand the entire way, and you guessed it was for your sake, seeing as you’d been clutching it with a death grip the entire time.

Sitting in an alley, you waited impatiently, until the sound of cars stopping nearby reached your ears.

Feeling paranoid you dragged Hwan behind you, shielding him with your body, preparing yourself for the worst.

“Y/N? Hwan?”

Hearing Hoseok's voice you let out a small gasp, jumping up from your crouched position. Dragging Hwan with you, you engulfed both of them in a hug, savoring the moment.

“Are you okay? Any injuries?”

Hoseok asked, rubbing your back soothingly. Nodding your head, Hwan grumbled a bit.

“Almost wasn’t but mom threw a vase at the guy, knocking him out real good”

You smiled tightly at both of them, still not quite over that shock yet. Hoseok smiled at you admiring the strength you showed to protect not only yourself but his son as well.

[tomorrowsgardennc]

market update // september 14th

drop off versus set up. i get to the market super early, even though setting up takes me 15 minutes, tops. i prefer to avoid the traffic of other vendors setting up, and i like to volunteer around the market before it opens. it's around 50 vendors at this market during the main season (april until december), so it can get busy super quick right before the market opens with everyone coming in at the last minute. not worth the stress when i can just come in early and help others out.

today blew me away. literally. had gusts of wind that were so bad a power pole fell down right outside the parking lot. that means the road that's the main traffic for the market was closed after 30 minutes of being open. that killed sales for *everyone*, including the big bois that sell out every week. coffee barrista vendor said their sales were down to 1/3rd their normal amount because of this. but the die hards willing to brave traffic and walking 2 blocks from parking to the market still made it out.

tue big bois were panicing over sales, but a horrific day in sales for me here still beat a great day of sales at other markets in previous years. no panicing from me, for once. if the road wasn't closed but sales were the same as today THEN i would panic. c'est la vie and all.

my top sellers were the ground cherry produce and the mini flower vases. none of those sales were my normal customers but rather the die-hards just browsing since they weren't eager to get back into traffic. so i met some new faces today, that's good. top reactions to people trying out the ground cherries go to a 3yo trying one, then shaking their head vigorously and then hiding in their mothers hair. another 6yo tried one and then just quickly started eating a whole bunch more. the mom paid for it, blushing, but i thought it was cute.

so imma share a secret with you, tumblr. for me to pass the time, i always wave to the kids who stare at me and tally up how many wave back. my record is 5 in one day. today was only 1. will try and wave better next week.

with it being an unsually slow day, i did end up going home with more than what i came with. but today is also my birthday so that's ok. ton of bread from my favorite bread baker in all the charlotte area, plus bagels, apples, cookies... got 2 large flower bouquets - one for a colleague who passed away this week, and another for me because birthday. thinking about merging all the large flowers together and take them to the place where he worked tomorrow, and keep the small ones for me. idk, i just love smaller bouquets spread around the house instead of one big one.

i didn't take an after-market shot because there was almost no difference at all due to lack of traffic. i did try and get photos throughout the day to share here and i hope that this new series of posts help inspire those who want to or are beginning their business vending journey. i've been vending at several markets and too many events over the past 5 years, so i got a lot of pointers and stories to share. please enjoy.