#or to write less than 1k words apparently

[anachronismstellar]

SQH x YQY 👀 I wanna see your take so bad

Hmmmm Tbh what I imagine is something like-

---

They were both working quietly, the meeting long finished, the only sounds the tec tec tec of Shang Qinghua's abacus as the peak lord moved the wooden pieces up and down, pausing from time to time to take notes.

Having just finished a report, Yue Qingyuan couldn't help but turn his eyes to his shidi, noticing his focused expression as Shang Qinghua mumbled numbers upon numbers under his breath. It never failed to impress him how fast the other was able to add ridiculously high numbers, or how Shang-shidi seemed to look at one artifact and know how much it was worth.

Another thing that Yue Qingyuan could appreciate was his efficiency. No matter how much the other peak lords brushed off his forms and failed to hand them on time, Shang Qinghua seemed to know everything that had been used or collected from their missions, as if he had eyes and ears everywhere. It made Yue Qingyuan grateful for his Shidi loyalty, otherwise they would be in a huge amount of trouble.

"Whatever it is that is making Zhangmen-Shixiong stare this much instead of asking, the answer is no, we have just finished with the annual budget, we can't change it," Shang Qinghua said without taking his eyes from the paper in front of him, making Yue Qingyuan chuckle.

"I was just admiring Shang-shidi's skill. You have very nimble fingers," he complimented as he put his own brush down. A small pause would do them good, they had been working for hours now. He was about to stand up to start the tea when Shang Qinghua snorted, a "You should see what else they could," low enough for Yue Qingyuan to realize he wasn't supposed to hear that, but loud enough for him to not have misheard.

The following pause was loud by itself, like the quiet before the thunder.

"I should go," Shang-shidi started to gather all the paper he had just written down, ruining many reports with smeared ink, color crawing up his neck until his whole face was beet red.

"Shang-"

"I just remembered I had a meeting with uh Shen- With Liu-shidi! Yes! And it wouldn't be good to leave him waiting so-"

While Shang Qinghua rushed to grab everything, Yue Qingyuan got closer, gently taking the papers from his hands, holding back his amusement. It wouldn't be kind to laugh at his shidi, even though his flustering was a bit funny.

Yue Qingyuan had a sense of humor, his job just made it hard to demonstrate it.

"Shang-shidi is fine, just got me off guard, that's all. I didn't know shidi had such... Inclinations."

"I mean, with all due respect Zhangmen-Shixiong, you're very handsome man, and you were kinda staring at me like that, then you made that comment, it's hard to not think you were, y'know, making a move, but I'll shut up now, we can pretend this never happened, and-"

Yue Qingyuan's felt his own face getting warmer. It had been a while since someone had been so honest with him, it felt refreshing.

He thought of judging eyes over a painted fan, his heart skipping a beat as he swallowed dry.

"What if I don't wanna pretend?" He heard himself say, and then it was his turn to blush as Shang Qinghua eyebrows rose all the way up to his hairline, warm brown eyes blown wide with surprise.

"Uh- I-"

"I apologize, Shang-shidi, this one didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he whispered as he went to take a step back. They're both stressed and it was getting late, maybe they should wrap it up for the day-

Bitten nails softly scrapped his cheek as the scent of ink filled his senses. He turned his face towards Shang Qinghua, surprised by warm lips against his as a strong hand pulled him closer to an embrace. For many seconds, it had been a chaste press of mouths until he dared to bite down Shang Qinghua's lower lip, chasing the taste of jasmine tea they had been drinking earlier, the heat crawling down from his face all the way to his chest. Shang Qinghua's warmth an addicting feeling as the An Ding Peak lord worked on his robes, opening them with an impressive speed.

And then, hours later, with both of them panting, sweat cooling down their skin, Yue Qingyuan laughed as he kissed Shang-shidi's hand.

"Nimble fingers indeed."

[stvharrngton]

Hii kyrie!! Hope you are doing very well!!

So maybe this is a strange request and it's totally fine if you don't make it, so don't feel pressured love !

So I've been told thru all my life in various types of ways that I'm not pretty or pretty enough, so that has made me so self conscious and I'm just you know aware that I'm not pretty, so I would like to know how do you think steve would react to reader feeling that she is not pretty enough even when she is in a relationship with steve.

It can be smutty or not, what ever you decide is perfect to me love!!!

Ok, bye ily <3

hi my love <3 i'm sorry you feel like that i just know you are super pretty and our stevie would think so too 🥺 i went for smutty i hope that's okay!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v, heavy on praise and pet names <3

taglist: @dukesmebby @saturnband @sweetbabygirlsworld

The mirror sat atop your vanity, specks of dust decorating the glass. The reflection staring back at you was one you’d pondered over a thousand or more times, fingers prodding and pulling at the skin of the face in the mirror. Smoothing over the freckles and blemishes, rubbing at the circles below the eyes.

The reflection was yours, your face, your eyes, your hair and your nose. Your features that you’d come to think about more often than not. When Steve found you sat in front of the mirror, in nothing but your bra and a pair of soft cotton shorts his brow furrowed.

He called out for you when he walked into your quiet home, “Baby?” bottom lip jutting out when he was answered with silence. He reached your bedroom with a quiet knock on the door as he called out your name. Steve entered your room timidly when he was met with your figure in front of the mirror.

“Baby?” He asked quietly, “Everything okay? You never answered me.”

Steve came to stand behind where you sat, hands gentle and warm on your shoulders as he watched your face in the mirror. Your expression blank, like your mind was busy with a hurricane of thoughts. The words that spilled out from your mouth hurt Steve like a knife to the chest.

“Steve, am I pretty?”

The boy stood there dumbfounded, mouth hanging agape with his brows pinched together. He leant in next to you, so his chin was on your shoulder, his face next to yours staring back through the mirror. Steve pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, his lips sweet and gentle on your skin.

“You’re the prettiest girl in the whole world, baby, you know that.” Steve watched you carefully in the mirror as your eyes raked over your body, your lips downturned into something sad, “What’s this all about?”

“I don’t think I’m pretty enough-” you sighed, lips pursed together as you tried to ignore the feeling of Steve being so close to you, “not pretty enough for you.”

“What?!” Steve protested, turning his head to face your profile, “that’s crazy, sweetheart. You know I think you’re beautiful, hm?” Another kiss pressed to your cheek, “So hot and sexy, my sweet girl,” his voice was lower this time, lips encasing the shell of your ear, “how ‘bout I show my girl just how pretty she is, huh?”

Your skin erupted in goosebumps, heat rising up your neck as Steve’s words went right to your core. His lips travelled lower, teeth nipping at your earlobe as he pressed sweet kisses on your neck.

“You got the most beautiful eyes, baby,” Steve started, his hands moving to hold your waist, “so dreamy and your nose? Shit, you got the cutest nose I’ve ever seen.”

His lips followed the curve of your neck to your shoulder, a hand dancing up over your stomach, ghosting over the material of your bra and to your face. Steve let his thumb swipe over your plump bottom lip.

“And baby that smile of yours,” he groaned lowly when you sucked his thumb between your lips, “makes me weak at the knees and I wish I could set your laugh as the sound on my alarm clock.”

You hummed a laugh at his cheesy compliment, Steve sporting a wide eyed grin in return. “See? You’re beautiful,” Steve whispered, tone low and rasp as his fingers found the material of your bra again, working their way round to the clasp.

The contraption dropped to the floor with one fell swoop, freeing your breasts from their confines. Your breath hitched in your throat as the cool air hit your skin, nipples erect and Steve’s for the taking. His large hands cupped your tits, gently squeezing the flesh as his thumbs rolled over your nipples.

You mewled quietly, a soft little whimper tumbling past your lips as Steve took his bottom lip between his teeth, lips coming to your ear once more, “And these pretty tits are so perfect, can’t get enough.”

Teeth nipping at your neck, hands still caressing your tits, Steve ushered you up from the chair, pressing your body into the vanity desk. He pressed himself into your back, the soft material of his shirt scratching at your body, the bulge beneath his jeans felt against your ass.

Steve kept one hand pressed to your chest, the other wandered down your front, a quick squeeze to your hip as he slid his fingers between your ass and his front. Pushing your shorts to the side, Steve ghosted his fingers over the lace covering where you wanted him most, the small wet patch beneath his fingers making him take a sharp intake of his breath.

“And this pretty little pussy of yours,” Steve cooed, fingertip teasing at your entrance, “she’s just the sweetest thing, isn’t she?”

“Steve,” you whined, rolling your head back to rest on Steve’s shoulder. The feeling of his finger barely pushing into your hole driving you insane, your body white hot all over and he was just getting started.

“Come on, pretty girl,” Steve encouraged, “tell me what you want, use your words.”

Your eyes fluttered closed at the dirty words he spoke, feeling your arousal poole at your core. You pressed your ass out into Steve’s hands, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his finger. Steve chuckled cruelly at your actions, teasing as he removed his finger from your cunt.

“Steve, please,” you begged, “anything, baby, please just touch me.” You pleading never went a miss with Steve, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips as he dropped to his knees.

Fingers curling around the waistband of your shorts and panties, the material soon dropped to the floor around your feet. Steve peppered kisses up the backs of your thighs, his large hands grabbing the flesh of your ass, pulling and squeezing. Steve pulled you apart, revealing your pussy to him.

Wet and ready for whatever Steve was going to give you, he groaned at the sight of you. Slick covering your pussy, smeared across your plush thighs. He pressed a single kiss to your hole, lips pouting as he gripped your ass.

You moaned loudly at the gesture, eyes fluttering closed as Steve began to move his lips and tongue in tandem. You felt him groan from behind you, the vibrations rumbling through your pussy, your thighs clenching involuntarily. The sounds that filled the room were pornographic, dirty, filthy. Slurping and sucking, licking and kissing.

If there’s one thing that Steve Harrington knew how to do, it was eat pussy like his life depended on it.

Steve grabbed harshly at your ass, his palm coming down against your cheek, a yelp echoing off your bedroom walls. Steve groaned into your pussy at the noise, his cock straining beneath his jeans at the pretty little gasps and whimpers that were serving as music to his ears.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” Steve cooed, “so fuckin’ good.”

You fell to the desk below you, unable to keep yourself up any longer. The pleasure coursed through you like lightning, a sharp flick of Steve’s tongue over your clit sent you over the edge.

“Uh uh, baby,” Steve uttered, “keep those pretty eyes on that mirror.” One hand left your ass, the distinct sound of the metal of Steve’s belt clinking, the leather slapping against itself, “Want you to see how pretty you look when you cum.”

You wailed as Steve never stopped the movements of his tongue, your slick totally covering his mouth and chin you were sure. Eyes shooting open, gaze fixated on yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were hazy, your lips red and bitten. The sound of Steve’s denim being shoved down his thighs rang loud in your ears, the jostle of his wrist as he fisted his cock felt as he buried his face in your pussy.

The beginnings of your orgasm rocked your body, your cheeks heating up as your jaw went slack. The muscles in your stomach and thighs began to clench, your moans and whispers of Steve’s name turned into incoherent mumbles. A jumble of praise and ramblings of how good Steve was making you feel the only things you could muster.

“Stevie, ‘m gonna cum, fuck–” you cried, fingernails digging into the wood of the vanity, “please, don’t stop, baby.”

“That’s my girl, come on, baby, let it go,” Steve groaned, palm slapping against your ass as he sucked and licked at your clit, “keep those eyes open, honey.”

The coil in your stomach snapped, your body hot and cold all over, your eyes wide and pupils dilated as you stared at yourself in the mirror, watching yourself cum with your boyfriend’s face buried inside your cunt really was a sight to behold.

Your body writhed against the table as Steve continued to lick at you all soft and slow, drawing out your orgasm until you were crying at the overstimulation. His own fist had since slowed, pumping his cock at a fragile pace, teasing himself like you often would.

When he finally removed his mouth from your pussy, you exhaled a sigh of relief, body slumping against the wooden desk. The quietness of your bliss all but lasted momentarily as you heard Steve groan from behind you.

Fingers still wrapped around his stiff cock, eyes glued to your sticky pussy as your juices mixed with Steve’s saliva dribbled down your thighs. You stuck your ass out for him to see, as if inviting him to slip inside you.

“Steve–”

“Baby, fuck,” he groaned, eyes rolling back as he spoke, “I gotta– shit, I gotta see your face when I cum, please?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip as you spun around, Steve still on his knees, gaze fixated on your lower half. The boy shot up in a flash, hands immediately cupping your cheeks, lips crashing against yours. The kiss was hungry, fervent, Steve having worked himself up into a frenzy.

He picked you up from where you stood, your legs wrapping around your waist, arms slung over his broad shoulders. Steve laid you down on the soft sheets, hands reaching to rid himself of his shirt, shuffling out of his jeans and boxers.

His larger frame towered over you, soft kisses peppered all over your flushed face as his forehead came to rest against yours, his gaze flickered down between your bodies as he pushed himself inside you, cock in hand.

Steve moaned loudly, all high pitched and pretty. A gruff ‘fuck’ trembled past his pink lips, giving himself a minute to billow in the feel of your warm pussy around his cock. The stretch of Steve’s cock was one you had grown to love, the initial sting a sinful pain you craved.

It wasn’t long before he was bottoming out, hips moving hard, cock stroking deep inside your walls, “Fuck, baby, ‘m not gonna last long, shit–”

“Oh, Steve,” you breathed, skin dewy and hot, Steve’s cock stroking your special spot just right. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his tailbone as he rolled his hips into yours over and over again, desperately chasing his own climax.

“My sweet girl,” the boy moaned, a throaty rasp, his hair wild, “you’re so pretty,” he babbled, “so fuckin’ gorgeous. My beautiful girl. So good f’me.”

Steve’s word vomit of praise was endearing, you were sure tears would be lining your lashes if he wasn’t fucking the breath out of your chest right now. He grappled your hands away from his shoulders, fingers interlocking as he held them at the side of your head, lips falling into place with yours as his hair began to fall out of place.

He was on the cusp, you knew that, could tell by the words he was moaning, the way he squeezed your hands so tight, how he kissed you as if to stop himself from wailing out your name.

He fucked his cock into you harder, deeper. You moaned his name into his mouth as he kissed you, a sweet gasp only spurring him on. You felt him twitch inside you, thighs clenching as he whined, “Oh, baby, oh fuck—,” gaze fixated on your fucked out features, “gonna cum, shit—“

As soon as Steve felt your walls clench around his length he was a goner. Hot cum spurting from his tip, pairing your walls as he groaned out your name. Curses fell from his tongue like a chant as his orgasm washed over him.

Chest heaving and breath heavy, Steve whined as he rode out his high. Eyes squeezed shut tightly as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in the soft skin of your neck.

He hissed and grunted as soon as he pulled himself away from you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Steve pulled you into his chest, thick ringlets of hair matted with sweat as he lay spent.

Steve let his lips rest on your temple, a gentle squeeze to your shoulder as he spoke,

“Prettiest girl in the world, baby, y’hear me?”

[teencopandthesourwolf]

WOLF BOY

when ao3 goes down, we write tumblr fic... now on ao3 HERE lol

i used the 15/11/24 @sterekdrabbles challenge for this. the prompt words were GREEN, REACH and SCATTER. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as it's around 1K words and therefore definitely a drabble gone long lol.

it's a spark!stiles slash derek whump sort of affair, just so you know what you're reading xp

.

The dagger is almost within his reach—so very nearly grabbable.

Other than being eight years old in a hospital room with the smell of rotting flowers clinging to the back of his throat, Stiles doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more than this.

Again, Derek hacks out, “Just run, Stiles!”

Again, Stiles answers no—only this time, it's not with his voice but a yellow-green vine of pure light that extends from his fingertips as he pleads with each beat of his heart for the universe to help him, the tendrils stretching, stretching, then victoriously winding themselves around the handle of the blade. 

“Oh, shit,” he mutters, now with his actual voice, and then the vine of his will is pulling the knife flush into his grip. 

He looks up at the hunter, their face a billboard of surprise, before a shriek rips itself from her belly at the very same time Derek roars from where he's tethered and bound, the wolfsbane-laced chains melting further into his flesh as he tries in vain to once again break free.

Then the evil bastard is flinging herself at Stiles��and straight into the dagger aimed at her solar plexus that his light sends sailing across the cave, plunging it deep into her breast.

It might not be bullseye, but it does the trick.

As she drops to the dusty ground like a discarded ragdoll, the other two hunters' heads snap like whiplash to where Stiles is sprawled, a look of pure terror marring their faces.

The cowardly fuckers drop their weapons and scatter, leaving Stiles and Derek alone—other than the dead woman at their feet—in the large cave they'd dragged Derek into a few hours ago.

Derek's wrung out, and beaten down, but alive. 

At once, Stiles scrambles to his feet to get over to where the ʼwolf is chained up, almost falling back down again when his probably sprained ankle gives way beneath him. 

“Stop fucking hurting yourself,” Derek hisses, and for once in Stiles's insane life he wishes he could gnash his teeth and roar in response, and it have an effect that would be anything other than ridiculous. 

“Oh my god,” he protests instead. “I've just saved your offensively pretty ass with my new spark's apparently awesome Gio-Ju-ju, a-hole, so how ʼbout we be a little less sourwolf and a lot more gratefulwolf to ol’Stilesy boy here, hmm?” he sasses, finding the key to the padlock that's bolted to Derek's chains on the flat rock where his flashlight got dropped when confiscated by one of the hunters. 

Stiles feels petulant, and justified in that petulance as he discards the now unlocked padlock. Then he feels a little wrong-footed when Derek quietly mumbles, “Thank you,” because the guy sounds both in a considerable amount of pain and genuinely grateful to Stiles.

Stiles sighs and kneels down to start prizing the chains away from Derek's red-raw, still-smoking skin, the ʼwolf's forever-stoic face giving away nothing of the hurt he's obviously suffering at the cruel hands of the aconite still desperately trying to seep its way into his body.

“You don't have to do that for me, you know,” Stiles says carefully, hinting at Derek's display of endurance.

Derek's eyes flicker from mid-space to Stiles's face, and Stiles suddenly notices that their heads are actually dizzyingly close.

He swallows, and the sound of it echoes around the cave as if mocking him. 

The second he peels away the last link in the chain attached to Derek's skin, and before Derek can push him away, Stiles brings a hand to Derek's throat to feel for his pulse. 

When determined fingers find it, Derek's face does a thing that Stiles hasn't seen it do before; it's this combination of incredulous and vulnerable, and is so unprecedented, and so beautiful, that Stiles sort of wants to cry about it. 

“You can hear mine,” he superfluously reminds Derek, before saying what he really wants to. “It's not fair I don't get to know—that you're alive, I mean. Like, I know I can see it but… The tactile reassurance? That's, uh, you know, kind of nice, too.” 

Man, he spends way too much time with werewolves. 

Then, when he licks at his dry lips and Derek's pulse quickens under his fingertips, Stiles is so much more than simply placated.

Taking a steadying breath, he feels a million trillion miles away from anything even remotely resembling steady.

He studies Derek's face some more for confirmation of his suspicion, and finds something akin to bashful swimming amid the swirls of those gorgeous seafoam eyes.

Derek likes him back?

Stiles sinks his teeth into his bottom lip; Derek's pulse starts to race. 

Amazingly, it seems Stiles isn't alone in the want he feels deep in his gut, and as it grows and spreads to his extremities, his fingers and toes now tingling with it, he reckons he's maybe beaten-up and bleeding out and half-braindead enough to have the balls to actually do something about it. 

It must be biological, he thinks as he licks at his lips again, that his body somehow knows exactly what to do to hopefully get Derek to do exactly what Stiles wants him to—lick Stiles' lips for him, that is—without him making an actual fully-formed decision on the matter.

Although as soon as he's thinking that, the decision to kiss Derek is unequivocally made—even if it's going to get him shoved into the dirt for trying. 

He's about to lean in when one of Derek's already beginning-to-heal hands stops him by bracing his shoulder. 

“I can smell your pain, Stiles,” he says. “Let me help.”

Stiles tries not to smile as he lies through his teeth. “Hurts here, the most,” he murmurs, touching two fingers from the hand not at Derek's pulse to his bruised, bloody lips. He then curls the other hand further around the werewolf's neck, to hold on.

Derek starts to pant, and Stiles has to hold in a whine.

The werewolf sounds absolutely wrecked when he asks, “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me by wrapping your hand around my throat?”

Stiles's smile then brakes free and is wry as his wit as he answers, “I've been working hard to find out how to woo you for months now, big guy. What do you think?”

And when Derek lunges to crush Stiles's mouth with his own, teasing Stiles' lips apart with his hot, hot tongue and nipping at them with blunted canines, Stiles reckons he knows what it must feel like to howl. 

.

on ao3 HERE if you'd like to drop me a comment xp

[fairlyang]

18+ smut. mystery girl cont. 1.2🕷️

w/c: 999

tags: 18+ smut. going back, no luck, adult theater, voyeurism, getting ate out, cut short

a/n: alright fuck it I’m making it into a mini series! gonna try to write more parts w less than 1K words only. just for fun!!

part 1.2 — part 1.3

you sat on his dick for five minutes and the only reason you got up was because your friend helped you. his cum dripped out of you but why let it go to waste?

you fixed your panties so no more would come out besides maybe dripping down your thighs. you were barely able to stand up right so your friend held you up as best as she could as she led you out the sex store and towards her car.

after dreamily rambling about his dick making you feel heaven on earth, it was a no brainer you were going to go again.

so the following night you did. you went in a cute little sundress but decided to not wear panties. you only kept your bra on so your tits could pop in case this time around Miguel decided to get out of the hole.

you made your way to the back, following the directions your friend showed you last night and the room was packed.

there were two girls waiting for their turn off to the side just watching the other girls. you got a little closer just to see if Miguel was there, and he seemed like a big man.

but you didn’t see anyone who looked like him. all the men had pale skin. so unlucky.

you then had the brilliant idea of going to the store’s adult theater which was apparently close according to your friend. “Just go through the double doors.” she told you in case you wanted to try it.

you went out of the room and the double rooms were right across. that makes it easy.

you went into them and at first it was dark until you walked inside a little more and you could hear moans from all over.

there was a projector displaying some porn movie and three rows of recliner seats for each side. about six seats per row so it was a decent amount. three rows per side which instantly has you noticing the left side was all men, helping each other out and to the right were a few men surrounding two girls.

you quietly walked to the back row and sat by the middle seats, you had such high hopes but at least you can enjoy yourself a little anyway since you were there.

only bad thing was you didn’t have panties and you’d be exposed. oh well.

you reclined the chair back a little and slowly spread your legs apart, while rubbing your right hand up and down your thigh. you looked up at the screen and it was playing a porn about a girl and her hot older neighbor.

perfect motivation.

you brought your left hand up and started to squeeze your left breast as the video progressed. the girl got on her knees and took the man’s cock out, it was a thick one.

you nearly frowned but then felt someone sit down to your right. you wanted to take a peak but you didn’t. you just continued teasing yourself when you heard a groan and couldn’t help but look.

your prayers were answered and there was the hot older man whose cock had you in a whirlwind.

your eyes looked at the thick cock that gave you the fucking you’ve been needing and you were nearly drooling. you bit your lip and closed your legs to rub your thighs together before looking up at his face.

he was already looking at you. watching your movements, how you squeezed your thighs together, and how you were still squeezing your breast.

his eyes then finally met yours and it was like he somehow put it together. he was only taking a guess because he didn’t know what his mystery girl looked like.

he only knew how you felt.

you decided to whisper something to him, you wanted him to know.

you turned and leaned in towards him, he leaned in as well and that alone had you feeling nervous but you whispered anyway, “I rode you last night.”

he chuckles and gives you a grin. his pants were already starting to feel tight.

of course it was a pretty thing like you. someone he could never have his hands on in public but definitely in a place like this.

he stood up then got in front of you before dropping to his knees. you gasped and your eyes widened when he spread your legs open, lifting your dress up only to find your bare pussy all glossy already.

he looked up at you and you felt your face go warm. a smirk formed on his lips and instead of saying something, he went straight to work on your pussy. he started sucking on your clit as he wrapped his arms around your thighs and he just fucking knew you would taste as delicious as you felt.

he moaned against your clit sending vibrations all over your body before he started going down and began lapping at your folds as if it were his last meal. you moaned and brought a hand down to his hair, lightly tugging on it.

you bit your lip and started to grind your hips up making him move with you. your eyes roll to the back of your head and you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips.

he was eating your pussy as if it was his last day on earth and had no care about breathing. his face was buried in your pussy, just absolutely obsessed with how sweet you taste. he should’ve known you’d taste fucking perfect.

“Fuck Miguel- feels so good.” You moaned making him groan against you.

he was already hard as a rock and he wanted to feel you so bad already.

unfortunately it would have to wait because some of the men broke out in a fight and he gave you an apologetic smile as he went on to stop them but then mouthed that you should go.

next part

[ohbo-ohno]

hear me out: ghoap x reader (noncon) in an abandoned factory. Reader only has an unreasonably short amount of time to escape before they get to keep her and do whatever they want to her

1k game here - no more please! im trying to get through these but they're slow going because im incapable of writing anything less than a thousand words apparently

1.8k of ghoap (mostly ghost) x reader chasing very scared reader through a factory :/ this is very similar to everything else i've ever written so nothing new here folks. (aka noncon!!!) btw this one is just pwp, nothin else much here to see

Your breaths heave out of you in pants, almost violent in their intensity. You feel like you can hardly breathe, but it doesn't matter. all that matters is running, getting away from the monsters chasing you.

You can hear them. Or, one of them at least. Johnny - the Scottish one, the one you'd been stupid enough to follow out of the bar in the first place. His partner - either Ghost or Simon, Johnny had called him both - your sure is silent as he moves. He'd blended into the shadows for so long when you first woke up, and you know he's doing it again.

You can't think about them. If you think about them for too long you'll spiral, and that is the last thing you need.

No, you have to run.

The old factory is a creepy place, cobwebs and dust covering everything, random creaking noises from machines, lights flickering on and off with no rhyme or reason. It takes all of your willpower not to scream when you feel a roach crawl across the toe of your heels.

The shoes are something you're still not sure if you made the right choice on - you can't walk silently in them, but you have absolutely no idea what you could possibly step on. The last thing you need is to somehow give yourself tetanus while running from your possible killers.

Still, the way you click-clack along the concrete floors makes you wince with every step.

"Where are you, bonnie?" Johnny echoes nearby. You've been trying to track him by listening to how many times his voice echoes, and he sounds very close now.

You duck into the first room you see, shoving yourself along a dark wall and fumbling around in the pitch black. The room must be windowless because there isn't even a hint of light, nothing that lets you see even vague shapes in the room.

Still, it's silent. You hear loud footsteps approach the door, and breathe out a large sigh of relief when they keep walking. Johnny shouts something indiscernible, and his voice fades into the distance.

You go limp against what you're sure is a wall, letting yourself breathe as heavily as you want now that you're sure there's no chance of being found.

The adrenaline makes your hands shake. Your lungs ache from the strain you've put them under, and you feel a little lightheaded from fear. But you try to shove all of that away - all that matters is that you stay away from your pursuers until morning.

The door opens.

Any peace you'd managed to find disappears in the blink of an eye, and you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your whimper. The door opens inwards, and whoever steps in can't see from around it. You're safe until he lets it fall closed behind him, plunging the room into darkness.

It's got to be Ghost. Even without knowing them all that well, you know Johnny wouldn't be able to resist taunting you. You hadn't seen much more than a silhouette, but you're sure this is Simon.

You can't try and move. Your shoes are too loud, and trying to kick them off would be just as loud as walking. Your only option is to stand still and pray he doesn't find you.

He's silent as he moves. You can't hear breathing, or footsteps, or even if he brushes over something. The room is as quiet as it was before he found it. But you can't relax. Your legs are tensed in preparation to run, and your heart beats so loudly you're sure he could hear it if he came close enough.

But he doesn't. The room is silent, and he doesn't find you.

There's a point where you're nearly convinced that he never came into the room at all. Is it possible that you hallucinated him? That your exhausted and terrified brain conjured up a threat that isn't real?

It takes a long, long time, but eventually you start to relax against the wall. It must've been nearly ten minutes of dead silence now, surely you've just started seeing things. No man could stand that still, stay so quiet, for so long.

You let your arm fall from your face, puffing breaths into the slightly musty air. Another few minutes, and you'll move again.

"Boo," a voice whispers in your ear, from directly next to you.

You scream, leaping away from the sudden wall of heat at your side. It doesn't let you, a hand snapping out and grabbing you by your upper arm before you can fall. You scream again as he pulls you closer, don't stop screaming as he turns you around and pins you by the chest to the wall.

He's all man and heat as he presses himself to your back, lips hovering by your ear, breaths ghosting over the sensitive shell.

"Got you," he whispers, nipping at your ear. "Stop your wailin', you're alright."

You do not, in fact, stop wailing. It feels impossible to swallow the sobs spilling from your throat, like if you close your mouth they'll choke you. So you stand pinned to the wall, tears already spilling down your cheeks as you blubber mindlessly.

Ghost laughs over your shoulder. "Little crybaby, aren't ya? That's alright, doll, I don't mind a few tears."

You can feel him undoing his belt behind you, and that only makes you more panicked. You throw yourself back against him, desperate to get him off, but you're nowhere near strong enough to do anything.

Ghost grunts over your shoulder, using one hand to force you flush with the wall again.

"Stay," he grunts, naked hips brushing against your ass as he flips your skirt up. "Unless you want me to get a little rougher? That what you want, love? Want me to throw you down and fuck you until you bleed?"

You keen loudly, shaking your head as best you can with your face forced into the wall. "No, no, nonono, please, please, you can't- oh God, please don't-"

He laughs lowly, rocking his hard cock between your thighs. "Just Ghost will do, love. Now, let's stretch you out a bit, hm? No need for blood when you're good for me."

You're bone dry between your thighs, no room for anything but fear in your head. Simon doesn't seem to mind, slowly stroking over your clit until your body betrays you.

"There we go," he murmurs as you first start to leak onto his fingers. "Little more for me, love, c'mon."

You've got no choice but to obey. It's like Ghost has a manual on how to make you feel best, stroking over all the parts that make your cunt drool, using just enough pleasure to keep things feeling horribly good.

You sob against the wall, pressing your forehead so hard into the rough surface that it hurts. All you can do is stand still and take what he gives you, forced to bear witness to your own destruction.

He's silent as he slips one finger, than another, inside of you. You whine against the intrusion, the slight sting a horrible pleasure.

"Hush, love," he soothes, rutting himself against your leg. "You're almost ready, won't be much longer now."

That only makes you more distressed, and you sob into the wall.

He's true to his word and doesn't spend much longer fingering you, his own intent seeming to be to spread you out enough to take him. You hope the fact that he only used two fingers means he isn't too large, but the size of each finger tells you otherwise.

You can't help but cry out when you feel his warm head rest against your entrance. Your hands fist against the wall as you fight back every urge to lash out, knowing that'll only make everything worse.

Ghost laughs over your shoulder, like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

"Still for me now, good girl. Won't make you do any of the work, just gotta stand there and take it for me." He speaks as he pushes slowly into you, raising his voice enough to be heard over your sounds of pain and pleasure.

He's thick, so much thicker than the two fingers he stretched you with, and there's a moment where you think he really has made you bleed. The pain isn't sharp enough for that though, just a never ending push into the clutch of your body.

"There you go," he moans when his hips meet the meat of your ass, as deep inside of you as he can get at this angle. "You feel like heaven, doll, never felt a cunt this tight, fuck."

"Pl-please," you splutter, breath shaky. "Please don't, it hurts..."

"Oh yeah? It hurts?" He coos, hands stroking faux-comfortingly over your hip. "Poor thing, 'm just too big for your little hole, huh? You'll just have to relax, then, I'll make you feel good once I'm finished."

A little heartbroken noise slips from your throat, but you do your best to listen. There isn't much else to do but bear whatever he chooses to give, so you try to relax your muscles, letting the wall take your weight.

"Good girl, good girl for me," he breaths, grinding his hips deep into you.

You feel him inhale deeply against you and try to mimic the pace of his breathing, bracing yourself as he pulls out.

Mercifully, he's silent as he fucks you. He seems to be lost in your body, shoving his face into your neck and running his teeth over the thin skin over your pulse.

It feels almost dream-like, to be taken like this. You can't move with how closely he has you crowded, and the room remains the absolute pitch black - you can't even see the outline of Simon's form over your shoulder. It's like what's happening is stuck in only this room, and you tell yourself that when it's over, when you leave, you'll be able to pretend this never happened.

That illusion is ruined when the door opens, flooding the room with light.

You get another look at Ghost as he pulls his head away from your neck to look over - he's sweat-slicked and flushed, eyes narrowed as he looks to see the intruder.

"Aw, you started without me?" Johnny whines, leaving the door wide-open as he trots over to where you're pinned.

Ghost huffs a laugh over your shoulder, continuing to fuck you at his same pace, leaving you wracked with pleasure. "First come, first serve, Johnny - shoulda been faster if you wanted to play with her first."

Through teary eyes you can see that Johnny doesn't look all that upset as he leans on the wall next to you. He plants a hand in the center of your chest, pushing you back into Ghost to make just enough room for him to squeeze between him and the wall.

You're left using his body to hold yourself up, instinctually gripping his arms to keep from collapsing.

He nudges your chin up with one hand as Ghost starts to really pound into you, leaving you drooling onto his thumb.

"Don't worry, bonnie," he winks. "I don't mind sloppy seconds."

[nickfowlerrr]

call it what you want to

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. pet names. dirty thoughts. uhhhh that's all? also not sure what trope this is lol but when i nail it down, i'll add it. i'm thinking it's just friends to lovers? frenemies to lovers maybe? idk lol.

words: 3.1k

notes: this was my attempt at writing a stand alone, less than 1k drabble. it did not go well. there will definitely be more lmao. eventually. <3 hope you guys like this, and thank you in advance for reading. as always, feeback and reblogs are more than welcome and are so appreciated! let me know your thoughts :)

“Fuck!”

Your voice echoed in the hallway of the apartment complex as you stared down at your take out now spilled all over the floor.

“Stupid goddamn key,” you cursed again, the key to your apartment caught in the metal loop of your lanyard. Truthfully, you knew you had too many keychains and this happened every time you had to jingle your keys from your bag. You should’ve set the food down, but you were too impatient to get inside.

While you struggled with your keys, the door to the apartment down the hall opened, the sound of it catching your attention.

You looked over and then quickly away as you saw him. As if things couldn’t get any more embarrassing, of course he had to be a witness to the mess that was you for the second time this week.

“Locked out again?” the tall, built brunette asked as he walked down the hall, his brilliant blue eyes set on you.

“No,” you grumbled, avoiding his gaze as you tried to free your key from the lock of rings it had become stuck in.

He stopped right next to you and you took a deep breath as you felt him watching you intently, analyzing the predicament you'd found yourself in. His eyes were on you for too long, making you more flustered than you already were, before they fell to the food laying on the ground by your feet.

He raised a brow before looking back up at you, leaning against the wall beside him, crossing his arms as he examined you further but continuing to say absolutely nothing.

“Is there a reason you’re staring, Mr. Barnes?” you huffed, annoyed.

“Mr. Barnes?” he questioned. “I’m not 80.”

“Could've fooled me," you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes, "damn it," you whined, growing more and more frustrated at your lack of success in getting your key unstuck. You began shaking the set of keys from the base of the lanyard, hoping to get it free that way.

He grabbed the keys from your hand with a scoff and you watched as he easily pulled the key out of the rings it was caught in before dangling them in front of you.

You narrowed your eyes as you scowled at him and his obnoxiously smug face. Reaching to snatch the keys from him, he pulled them back right before you had them in your grasp. You could’ve growled with how irritated you were.

“I’m not in the mood, James. Give me my keys,” you demanded.

“James?” he repeated, sounding even more offended than before. "Christ, doll, let's go back to Barnes."

"I told you to stop calling me pet names not more than.. two days ago, did I not?" You shot him another sharp look as he smirked in response.

"Well, I believe your exact words were, 'Bucky, if you call me sweetheart one more time tonight, I'm going to file an official complaint against you with management for harassment'," he quoted you verbatim.

Your mouth parted as you furrowed your brows, you couldn't help how obviously taken aback you were at his apparent perfect memory and he smiled at the impressed look on your face.

"Huh, so you remember exactly what I said, and yet," you tittered humorlessly, "you're still doing it."

"You said nothing about being called 'doll' and your warning was clearly for that night only, so," he shrugged, blue eyes still on you while he simpered.

"Were you not on your way somewhere?"

"I was," he nodded before he pushed away from the wall, beginning to walk past you as you watched him, turning to follow his movements, dumbfounded at his dismissal. “I am,” he finished smoothly as he kept walking.

"The hell you are," you called after him, following him down the hall. "Give me my keys."

"Okay," he said, continuing to the stairwell. You scoffed in disbelief as you followed him through the doors and down the steps.

"Now," you specified as if he didn't know what you meant in the first place.

He seemed to fly down the stairs as he ignored you and you huffed in annoyance, resigning yourself to following him all the way down. When you reached the first floor, he was waiting for you with a boyish grin.

You shot daggers at him as you scowled, putting your hand out, palm up for him to drop your keys into. He looked at your hand quizzically, an eyebrow quirked before he took your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing them across your skin.

Your heart skipped a beat and you embarrassingly felt your breath catch in your throat the moment his eyes looked up to meet yours, the bright blues twinkling as his soft lips lingered on your hand.

It wasn't even a second before you pulled your hand away like he'd burned you.

You swallowed hard, standing straighter as you eyed him.

"Well, definitely gonna be making that harassment complaint now," you said, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his actions and the way his bright, easy smile had your heart fluttering.

"I don't think you'll have to go through the trouble. I'm thinking about moving out next month," he told you.

You felt your face drop slightly as you blinked at the news, a wave of disappointment and sadness running over you. "Oh," was all you breathed.

You both stood there for a moment, a charged silence between you and your neighbor begrudgingly turned, dare you say, friend...

Would he consider you a friend? Did he consider you at all? Of course he did. You'd been hanging out at least weekly for the past almost three months. You were friends. Right?

You forced the ridiculous thoughts away, not needing to dwell on them. It didn't matter.

"You just moved in a few months ago, you're trynna leaving already?" you asking trying to sound nonchalant.

He kept his eyes on you, and you could feel him keenly watching your every reaction. You just prayed he couldn't see too much. You didn't need to embarrass yourself anymore today.

His tongue jutted out past his pink lips before his ever-present smirk returned. "No, I'm not. Just wanted to see your reaction. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a little let down there, sweetheart."

You clicked your tongue, scoffing while you fought a smile as you eyed him challengingly. "Good thing you know better, then."

"Good thing," he nodded as he smiled wittingly at you.

"Can I have my keys back now?"

He took a deep breath in through his nose and out before turning around to continue out the gate and down the street.

"After we eat," he said over his shoulder, expecting you to follow him. "We're going to that Chinese place I was telling you about the other day." He held the gate for you and after a second, you walked out, waiting for him to lead the way. As easy as it would be for you to argue, you were starving.

"You're lucky I'm hungry, Barnes."

You were walking side by side as you felt him look over at you, simpering. You looked over to him in return and despite the brisk air hitting your face as you walked, your skin felt flushed - the look in his eyes causing warmth to rise under your cheeks as your own eyes flitted away, back to the street in front of you. You took a grounding breath.

“Lucky for a lot of reasons, doll. Guess good timing’s one of ‘em.”

"Joe's gonna have my ass if he sees the food I dropped on the floor," you laughed as you remembered the mess you’d left outside your apartment door. Bucky looked straight ahead then, too, unconsciously puffing out his chest as he brought his shoulders back and stood straighter. In that moment, you couldn’t help but admire how built he was, his tall stature and muscular frame. You wondered if he noticed the people who were avoiding him as they walked by, or the ones who ogled him as they passed. You certainly did.

"Ah, I wouldn't worry about it. Just take him up on that coffee date he keeps asking you for and he'll be cleaning it up himself." The normal levity his voice carried when he spoke to you was gone. He sounded...off, maybe a little huffy. You weren't sure why.

"How do you know about that?" you asked.

He took a second before he responded, a smirk gracing his face once again as he looked at you. "Thin walls," he answered, his eyes running up and down your figure as you faltered for just a moment, keeping your gaze ahead of you.

"Thin walls? Or super hearing?"

"A bit of both, maybe," he considered as he walked a bit closer to you. When he took another step near you, his arm brushing yours, you stopped walking, glancing over to him but not turning to face him head on. He leaned into you and spoke near your ear, his breath warm on your wind chilled skin, "You'd be surprised all the things I'm able to hear. Even the tiniest little squeaks in the middle of the night."

His voice was quiet and close and so damn suggestive. It made your stomach flip and sent a tingle through you as you took an unintentionally shaky breath at his proximity.

He leaned further past you and when your eyes followed his movements in front of and across your body, you realized you were standing in front of the restaurant, and he was pulling the door open for you.

When you finally managed to bring yourself to look at him, he was wearing a cocksure smile, while you worked hard to make sure you didn't let your mortification show, tried to play it cool like you had no idea what he could possibly be referring to. But with the way he was looking so sure and satisfied, you must have failed.

You cleared your throat as you turned sharply to walk past him into the restaurant, through the door he was holding for you. The second you stepped in, he was right behind you. You were halted in your path almost immediately after walking further inside as a man was leaving. There was a tight little hallway that led from the front entrance to the rest of the restaurant and you almost ran into him in the tight space, apologizing as you pressed yourself closer to the wall next to you so you didn’t touch him. There was a feeling of self consciousness threating to take over as you assessed the space you were taking up as opposed to that of the people trying to pass you. It was evident, at least in your mind, that you were the problem. You figured it'd be best to just back up out of the hallway and let them walk by without being so in the way. So caught up in your distance between you and the people in front of you, you hadn’t even recognized Bucky’s chest at your back, or your ass unintentionally flush against his crotch until his metal hand gripped your hip when you wiggled back to make room for the new people who were leaving.

You heard his sharp inhale as he held you still and wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you wouldn’t be able to keep embarrassing yourself. You weren't sure if you should mention it and apologize or just act like nothing happened…

“Sorry,” you breathed. Bucky didn’t respond, only squeezed your hip lightly again.

When the people who were leaving were past you, you turned your head to look at Bucky. “Go in front,” you ordered a bit snippy, not wanting to lead the way. You’d never been here and you didn’t know where to go and you were, understandably, already feeling flustered.

“Can't,” he responded, voice tight, urging you forward with his hand still on your hip. Your eyes widened though he couldn’t see before your brows furrowed in disbelief.

“Are you joking?”

“You were just wiggling your ass against me, doll, it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. I’m only human,”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose, either,” you hissed quietly. "I can't believe you,"

Truth be told, Bucky couldn't believe himself either. He had a lot more self control than most, and such a light touch from anyone would never have him this visibly worked up. But the second you grazed against him, he immediately felt his cock stirring. It certainly didn't help that he'd only just been replaying the sounds of your desperate little moans, the ones he hears in the middle of the night along with the soft rumbling of whatever toy it is you use. The sweet sounds float into his room and all he can do it groan and torture himself with the thoughts of you, with the thoughts of one day getting to hear those whimpers in his ear as you wrap yourself around him and not just through the painfully thin walls of your apartment all alone...

He likes to imagine it's a sleek black rabbit. Envisions you pumping the silicone length in and out of your slick cunt as your head is thrown back in ecstasy, your breasts on full display, pert nipples just begging to be lavished upon as you arch your back, your thick thigh parted to afford him the perfect view of your glistening sex. Your tight pussy taking the toy so nicely, he can only imagine how incredible your silky walls feel gripping the length and squeezing along it as you work it in and out of yourself. He can't help but imagine what you'd feel like on his thick cock...his cock that, fucking hell, at this moment, was only growing harder and if he wasn't careful, he'd make himself look like even more a perverted jackass than he already had.

He forced himself to stop thinking about it, but it was impossible to stop thinking about you. Even if you weren't right here with him now, he was sure you'd be on his mind. He'd been finding himself having thoughts of you more and more frequently, even about the most mundane things. It seemed like every little thing led back to you.

He'd only known you now for a few months, but you seemed to occupy enough space in his mind that he would've sworn he'd known you for years. It felt that way, too. Like he could easily be himself around you, his true self. He wasn't sure you knew what effect you had on him, how you effortlessly got his walls down without even trying. He had no idea what it was about you, but it was something.

He's always being told how he was short with people, cold, closed off, grumpy, blunt, etc., etc., and he knew he was. There weren't many people he wanted to get to know, not many he wanted to even have to speak to. But with you.. It was almost embarrassing how excited he'd get when he'd hear your voice in the hallway, bounding up from wherever he was inside and heading straight for the door, pulling his boots on as fast as he could and grabbing his keys, then taking a second to compose himself and regain his air of cool before walking out the door. It didn't matter he had no plans of going anywhere, he just wanted an excuse to see you, to talk to you even if only in passing. He had a system to it now, too. If you were just getting home from somewhere, he'd pretend he was on his way to check his mail and if you were leaving, he'd be leaving, too. Taking the elevator with you, or the stairs depending on your mood, and then begrudgingly parting ways so he didn't appear like such a pup.

Occasionally, normally if it was late when you were headed out, he'd invite himself to go with you wherever it was you were going. On the times he'd miss your leaving, or you seemed like you wanted to be alone, he'd just...very nonchalantly, super casually, stealthily... follow you around the city. Not in a creepy way, he told himself. Just in a, a friendly, watching out for you way. It hadn't happened more than a handful of times, so it wasn't like he was stalking you. He really just wanted to make sure you were okay.

"You okay?" your voice asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

"'M fine, doll,"

"Great, well are you gonna apologize?" you said expectantly, turning your eyes on him as you looked up over your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he breathed a smiled.

"Thank you," you stated simply before turning back around to look at the menu board. "And you can take your hand off of me now," you added, not wanting to say it while facing him, lest he catch the look in your eyes making it evident you wouldn't mind all that much if he kept his hands on your forever. And you wouldn't say it, but his touch was oddly comforting. You found yourself disappointed when he let his hand slip down from its place on your hip.

"Did I tell you my couch got delivered?"

"Oh yeah?" you laughed, grateful for the change in conversation.

"Mhm," he affirmed. "It could use some wearing in," he hinted.

"Not comfy?"

"Not just yet."

"Hm. I'm sure it'll get there."

"Come on, don't make me beg here,"

"Beg? For what?"

"You know what I'm getting at,"

"Do I?" you questioned, playing dumb. He sighed loudly as he stepped from behind you, moving instead to stand next to you again.

"Would you come over tonight? I'll even let you pick what we watch,"

You narrowed your eyes at the proposal. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

You pursed your lips, pretending to think on it, knowing full well your answer was a 'yes' the second he brought it up. "Okay," you agreed with a soft smile that you tried to hide.

He looked down at you next to him, admiring the way it felt so right to be near you, even as simply as this, as he smiled in return. "So you wanna eat here or take it back to my place?"

series masterlist

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

School-side Staycation - Staff Shenanigans

@ashipiko has a super fun 1k follower event going on that reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend a While ago!! I decided to turn it into a drabble, so I hope you guys enjoy some NRC Staff Shenanigans!! (Including my staff/greenhouse caretaker oc, Aspen Zoi - I apologize in advance for the stim word "like" OTL if you don't check out his profile, just know he speaks like your stereotypical surfer/hippie/stoner)

Also apologies OTL I have to write on my phone due to Technical Difficulties, RIP my formatting. Um just as a heads up, there is some food talk in regards to calories and dieting. It's not talked about a lot, but it is in there.

Also also this is my first time writing all the staff together so I hope it's at least entertaining!

---------------------------

"Turkey burgers, really Divus, I'd have thought better of you." Mozus scoffed lightheartedly over the younger man's shoulder, watching the black latex clad hands work in a mix of shredded vegetables into the meat.

Crewel raised a questioning brow to his senior, using his shoulder to push away hair from his face for the upteenth time that day. Even with his dark shades on, both the unamusement and the spark of competitiveness was felt to be fanned.

"Well, Mozus, if you cared to ever look past those dusty old history books of yours and indulge in the dietary world, you would know that ground turkey-"

"Sucks. It sucks." Vargas interrupted, shaking his head in disappointment. He was wearing near neon orange shorts and a white tank top, though clearly splattered with some stains from his preparation, shades sat nicely atop his lofty locks. His food was currently concealed in the two heaping platters he had under aluminum foil as he set them down on the table next to the barbeque. "It's got less protein, less iron, less zinc, and more sodium than ground beef. It has a little more 'healthy' fat," the air quotes were heavily emphasized by the gym teacher, "but for Sevens sake Divus, it's supposed to be a vacation sort of thing. Let the kids loose for a little while."

An audible "hmph" left the alchemy professor, moreso at Trein's smug grin than Ashton as he refocused on his work. His UV protectant, black, long sleeve shirt was rolled up to his elbows, a simple red short sleeve button up layered on top. "Not everyone can afford to give up their calorie intake over a vacation."

"Then you may as well have just made black bean patties and volunteered yourself to make the vegan option."

Trein sighed and shook his head at Ashton's apparent naivety as he opened his grill, throwing a few patties on. Perhaps his air of superiority would have been less humorous if not for the cargo shorts, white shirt, the blue, green, pink and yellow tropical overshirt, the matching, tropical bucket hat, and the apron that read "Grillmaster", but Trein continued anyways.

"He's using the leftovers of his dogs food that he thawed and forgot to use."

An awkward silence filled the air between the three of them, save for the soft sizzling of Treins burgers and the distant sounds of their beloved students having fun. Ashton spoke up in near disbelief.

"....Divus is that-"

The older of the two suppressed a scowl, trying to play it off best he could as he waved off his former underclassmans concern.

"Ground turkey is ground turkey, how I was going to use it is irrelevant! Really now Mozus was that necessary?!"

Vargas exchanged glances with Trein, before grinning a little more, willing to 'poke the bear'.

"I know you call them your pups but..."

Crewel felt his eye twitch slightly. Not much got to him, but the implication that 1. His dogs weren't incredibly dear to him, and 2. That his students weren't held to the same regard as his dogs in terms of how he cared for them, was not something he felt he could articulate well enough to get it through Ashton's thick, thick skull.

" It's still perfectly fine food, it's ought to be better than whatever Dire has!"

In an attempt to get the attention off of him for once, Crewel directed his, and his colleagues attention to the approaching headmage, ignoring the soft snickers behind him from Ashton for the sake of his sanity.

The headmage wore a huge grin under the stupid mask of his, dressed in his normal vacation attire. His arms were outstretched, as if anyone there would hug him as a greeting - none of them would, but especially not now that one was grilling, the other had his hands plunged into raw meat, and the third...well Vargas wasn't doing anything that would impede him from doing so, but he pretended to look busy as he fidgeted with the aluminum foil from one of his platters, careful to not lift it up.

Trein glanced at the headmage as he joined them under the white tents, his clawed gloves drawing most of his attention as Dire lowered his arms to his sides.

"Dire. What are you bringing to cook?"

The headmage looked at him blankly before smiling, chuckling a little awkwardly as he took his hat off and held it to his chest. As if he didn't already look pathetic, now he looked like he was going to apologize, and the staff in front of him already looked unamused.

"Ehe, well you see, I was generous enough to allow our students host this event-"

Knowing glances were exchanged between the three as Crowley continued.

"So neeever did I ever think my kindness would be taken advantage of like so! After all the budgeting and set up and organizing and ordering and nights laying awake and wondering how to make today the best success it could be, I didn't think I would be expected to cook too!"

The masked man rested the back of his hand against his head dramatically, trying and failing to gain the sympathy of the staff who all very well knew he had signed off on the event, and being a part of the catering. Hell, he had admitted it himself- he hadn't done any of that. That was all part of hosting, something that had very much not been on his shoulders, like many other responsibilities this year.

Vargas moved to the table across from Crewel, starting to make a protein-packed sauce to go with his still-mystery food, shooting Crowley a bit of a shit-eating grin.

"Well I guess you better go buy hotdogs or something from Sam's and be prepared to lose."

An indignant squawk left Dire, his dramatic display clearly not working in his favour, and he couldn't fathom why.

"Lose??"

"Hot stuff comin' through! And it ain't just me-"

Sam wheeled a tri-level service cart over the grass with ease, thanks to magic, each level with absolutely delicious smelling, but hidden food. Aspen followed close behind, Willow, his Pekin duck toddling after him.

Dire moved out of the way so as to let the trio through, Sam moving next to Vargas and starting to load tray after tray onto the serving table, a determined and slightly crazed expression on his face.

"Ain't nobody beatin' Mama's mac'n cheese recipe. Not even your fancy ass brisket Ashton, don't pretend like that ain't whatchyer tryna hide under there, I know you too damn well fo' you to try an' hide it."

Vargas and Same broke into easy conversation as Aspen hung back with Crowley, who was still visibly confused. He looked down at his hands, as if they held the answer to his questions.

"Lose?? Beating his mother's recipe??? What have I missed????"

Aspen's single, amused "haaah" was rather annoying to the headmage. Despite the sharp turn of his head and the glare he directed at Aspen, he just gave him his same old dopey grin.

"Aww man, you really didn't, like, read anything you signed, did ya? The teacher who like... looses the cook off gets pelted with water balloons by like...the whooole student body. It would really suck if one of us forgot to bring something. It'd be like...immediate disqualification or whatever."

The blond tilted his head a bit and giggled as he watched a few of the students play volleyball not far from them, oblivious to the rising panic on the headmage's face.

"But you haven't brought anything?! So what if two faculty members didn't bring anything?! The penalty is halved, right?!"

Aspen let out a small laugh.

"Hah. As if. Babygirl and I made seven layer salad, which is like, on Sam's cart, and a buncha desserts last night, isn't that right?" He bent down to pick up Willow, kissing her head as he cradled her. "I mean sure, baking isn't, like, COOKING but I don't think anybody is gonna complain about brownies 'nd, like, homemade ice cream, y'know? I just gotta wait to bring it out cuz..like....the ice cream...duh."

He waited a beat, the rising panic from the man beside him finally catching on. He was about to ask, but Crowley was on his knees next to Sam in a split second, holding his hand and groveling.

"PLEASE- no, actually, as your boss, I DEMAND you open your shop and sell me the best cuts of meat- no, actually, I want as many tube's of ground beef, ah, no, Trein is already- ground PORK-"

Sam shook his hand away from Crowley in mild disgust.

"Oh hell no, might I remind ya, I'm on vacation, as are the rest of us and the little imps. If you want to serve hot dogs, you'll have to go into town and move fast. Otherwise you're gonna have to embrace your fate of death by a thousand waterballoons." Sam swapped the position of one of his trays with Vargas' platter, so as to get his jerk chicken onto the grill after changing his glove out for an untouched one.

"With all due respect, your poor plannin' does NOT constitute an emergency on my part, Mr. Crowley, Sir."

Dire let out an undignified noise at Sam's facetiousness and lack of cooperation.

Trein looked down at the rather defeated looking headmage and sighed at the mess of a man, shaking his head again in disappointment.

"For Sevens sake, pull yourself together Dire. You could go ask the ghosts in the Cafeteria if they've got anything they'll lend you to cook."

Crowley looked like a kicked puppy at Trein for a moment before standing back up, beaming and near launching himself at him for a hug, which Trein avoided as if this was something that happened often. Despite not getting what he wanted, Crowley clearly had new vigor.

"Ah! You're right. Of course, if the ghosts are there I could- hm! Nevermind, nevermind, yes thank you my dear friend, I knew you wouldn't let me suffer! Unlike SOME people." He shot a fake dirty look at the rest of his beloved faculty, only to be met with snickers and mildly amused expressions. Yes, even with all their jests and disagreements, these were the people he felt most comfortable around. His expression softened for a half second before he clapped twice and smiled widely again.

"I'll be back with something delicious! I swear to defeat you all!" His voice lilted playfully, before he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

A shared sigh came from Trein and Crewel, amusing their younger colleagues with the similarity.

Crewel wiped at his head with his shoulder again, grinning knowingly at Trein.

"Mozus."

"Divus." Trein kept his focus trained on his burgers, though his voice had an air of amusement to it, and it was clear the corner of his mouth was kicked up in a small smile.

"Were you really trying to be of assistance?"

Crewel finished rolling the last of his turkey blend into disks, turning his full attention to his conniving collegue.

Trein hummed a bit in response.

"Yes. Not to him, to us, but his absence makes it much easier to concentrate."

Crewel shed his latex gloves, put some hand sanitizer on and walked over to 'supervise' Trein's grill, before grabbing a patty that was cooked and looking over it in mild disgust.

"Concentrate on what, perfecting a burn on your patties, oh 'grillmaster'" he mocked, breaking a piece off and eating it, hardly hiding his distaste.

"Ah, I see, you're trying to make up for your lack of seasoning using charcoal, well old man I can guarantee the turkey burgers you were so quick to dismiss will certainly be better than that piece of semi-edible Sahara."

Trein sighed, annoyed, plucking the rest of the patty from Crewel's fingers and throwing it out.

"I always burn my first one. It guarantees I won't burn the rest of them. If you used those astute powers of observation you're so proud of, you'd have seen the rest of the burgers are cooked beautifully."

He lifted the foil just enough to show Crewel the admittedly, mouth-wateringly delicious looking patties underneath, though Divus refused to show any indication that he was impressed.

"They're still bland. The students don't have a grandpa stomach like you."

Trein rolled his eyes internally, huffing, but even Sam and Aspen snickered at the comment.

"It will be fine once I make my sauce to go with them. My daughters love my cooking, I'm sure our students will as well. You have your dogs as reference for your tastes. I would be more worried if I was in your shoes."

Crewel moved towards Sam, who made room for him, moving his chicken to the top rack so Divus could use the main part of the grill to start cooking.

"You say that as if I don't cook for myself either. Really Mozus, I'm hurt by how lowly you think of me. Besides, I understand cooking as not only an art, but from the very chemical bases of it. I have every confidence that if no one else, I will be getting votes from Pomefiorians."

Aspen snorted from behind him, waving his hand dismissively.

"Nahh, Poms are gonna go for Sam's mac or, like, his chicken. They're like, tired of eating that Vil guys super bland food. Ya might, like, get Vil himself? Maybe? But I feel like he's prolly just gonna beeline it to my salad cuz of that new green diet thing one a his freshies said he's on. I only know cuz like, they were getting veggies from the greenhouse. If anything, I think ya might pull a few votes from Savanaclaw, but like, to be honest, even as a vegetarian, Ashton's brisket looks really good and prolly will come in after Sam's food."

Crewel let out a soft sigh, but Vargas was beaming, as Sam and Aspen exchanged finger guns and a wink. Trein squinted slightly at his watch.

"Lunch is meant to be in about 45 minutes. Aspen, Vargas, seeing as the two of you have nothing better to do, I suggest you start cutting up veggies for the burgers and fruit for after. Just make sure to use some hand sanitizer first."

The two exchanged a glance, both mouthing a mocking, lighthearted 'yes dad' behind Trein's back, making Sam snicker a bit.

"Dontchya worry Mozus, they got it covered."

-----------------

And that's where my brain stopped RIP

In case you're wondering, Crowley showed up like 3 hours late and got ambushed. It's okay though his "food" would have put him in last place anyways.

I'm not used to typing things like this out on my phone, and I'm even less used to reading them so this is not proofread or betaread or like. I'm not. Rereading it so here's to hoping it flows okay and it's as engaging as I think it is lol.

ANYWAYS thank you for such a fun event Ashi!!

Taglist: (ask to be added)

@fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 4

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer x Reader

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been receiving?

Warnings: Love Letters, mentions of stalking and cheating.

Word Count: ~1k

Masterlist Previous Next

x x x

“Though we face a perilous fight in the sky, I am most afflicted by you when my feet are on solid ground. Try as I might to evade your presence, I am only a man plagued by my jealousy and affections.”

His knuckles cramped as he gripped the pen, the words pouring onto the page, this time his printing was messy less concise. It obviously hadn’t worked the first time, writing a letter to relieve his thoughts, they still overwhelmed him. He was sure no one else had noticed you had been acting strange lately, maybe your friend but none of the men you interacted with. There was a curiosity in your gaze, as if you were always trying to decipher if they were him. He had left his last letter on your pillow, nearly getting trapped in the cabin as your group returned to base, being in there felt wrong, he would find other ways to leave any future letters. The letter he currently wrote would never be met by your eyes at all.

He knew he was being foolish, he could not feel such jealousy while he hid himself behind paper and ink. Yet, there you were in the window, simple but ever so captivating and unknowingly fuelling the growing fire. The letter he had tucked in his jacket pocket in a rush now felt like it was burning the skin underneath. You were distracted by the coffee, he tucked the paper beneath the ledge without you or anyone else around noticing.

Another party was in full swing, their mission had been successful- they had lost only one plane but they had made it to Scotland for Curt and his crew to land safely. You sat in an armchair in the corner, once again alone. Half of your job was to converse and boost morale so sometimes it was nice to have a little serenity; the girl wouldn’t let you stay alone in the billet, you had tried that. You had not noticed that Major Cleven was seated in the armchair beside you until you heard him chuckling along to the boisterous, out of tune ‘singing’ of John Egan.

“How does does a stoic man like you befriend someone like Major Egan?” You genuinely questioned, their difference more apparent than any similarities besides both men were talented pilots and great leaders.

Cleven glanced over to you, never really having an interaction unless he was getting a coffee in the morning. “He didn’t really give me the choice.”

“He is very social, especially with women yet you sit here alone. Are you married?” You knew that you were potentially overstepping but your curiosity had bested you.

“Not yet.”

The small longing smile and his tone told that he was thinking of someone back home fondly. “So there is a lucky lady awaiting you back home?”

“Marge.” He handed you the small photograph that he kept in his breast pocket. You studied her beauty, clear skin, perfect curls and joyous smile.

“She’s real pretty Major.” You returned the photograph, “And lucky to have someone so dedicated to her. I’m betting you that most of these men dancing around here tonight all have unsuspecting sweethearts waiting for them at home.”

The Major nodded, his eyes meeting those of his approaching friend, “I am not a betting man.”

Egan occupied the empty armchair on the other side of Cleven, wiping the sheen of sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, “Your bombardier is one of those men if I do recall.”

“Dougie and I are merely friends, sir.” You once again defended yourself, feeling less embarrassed and more adamant.

“No fella waiting at home?” Egan asked, having overheard your previous comments about the ever so lovely Marge.

“Not at home,” Suddenly the men’s gazes felt heavy on you, or maybe it was your heart in your chest that felt heavy. “I believe he’s across the continent now, and I am no longer his to consider.”

“Just means you can dance with any man here.” Egan shrugged it off, sensing the tenderness of the subject. “Say Brady, why don’t you take our girl for a spin around the floor?”

John Brady looked up with his wide eyes upon being volunteered.

“Oh, You don’t have to John, I am perfectly capable of finding my own dance partner.” You assured him but he was already tucking away his pipe but then you were interrupted by a frantic Douglass.

“Helen was telling me about some letters?” His voice was low but not quite a whisper, attracting the curiosity of the men around you.

“Please, excuse us.” You sent the group a tense smile before dragging the bombardier by his elbow into the quiet night air.

It seems like he’s trying to give you a stern look but it comes off more as concerned. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. “They are just letters of admiration.”

“Are you positive about that?”

“Dougie, they’re just from some harmless airman who had nothing better to do.” You simply brushed off his concern over the matter.

“They are clearly depraved, watching you like that, taunting you.” He insisted, his voice lowering to a whisper as a small group approached to enter the hall. You led him further away from the entrance to keep anymore of your conversation away from prying ears.

“And when you were gonna tell me that you have a sweetheart at home?”

It was his turn to sigh, fidgeting uncomfortably at the topic. “That is complicated.”

He was not expecting your heel to harshly slam against his booted toe, pain exploding throughout his foot. “Ouch. What the hell was that for?”

“Stop being an idiot.”

“This isn’t about me, it is about these letters.”

“Which everyone knows about now, thanks to you.” Your voiced raised louder than you had heard it in months, your frustration with the situation reaching its limit. “Good night, Dougie.”

You left no room for the conversation to continue as you wandered off into the darkness. Your night had been ruined and no one could stop you from your serenity now.

x x x

Tags: @canyousmelltheflowers @jointherebellion215 @gretagerwigsmuse

[forest-hashira]

A Little Swing

heeellllloooooo everyone! i'm back with another demon slayer fic for y'all, this time as yet another entry for @kentopedia's "Love Through the Ages" collab! i can't even definitively say this is my last entry bc my brain is still cooking up ideas whoops. make sure to check out that masterlist to see everyone else's entries, and to find my first two entries there as well (one for gojo, one for geto)!

also, i'm apparently making a game of it now, not writing more than one thing for any demon slayer character. i've got 3/9 hashira so far, who's next? kidding, kidding.... unless?

read on ao3 here | wc: ~1k | cw: gender neutral reader, reader is described as pretty & wears a dress, brief mentions/consumption of alcohol, the whole polycule is here but no names are exchanged

Parties weren’t really your scene, especially parties as big as this one; they never had been. But you always said yes when one friend or another asked you to go with them, insisting that you’d find someone to dance and have a good time with. You always hoped they were right, but so far that had never been the case. 

And now here you were, tucked into the corner of the bar, having long since lost track of your friends. The music from the live band was loud, far louder than you’d expected, so little effort was made to communicate with anyone but the bartender. So you stood there, leaning against the bar, sipping your gin and tonic, watching the rest of the partygoers dance and laugh and spill their drinks on one another. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone making their way towards you, and when you turned you were more than a little surprised to see a young woman, probably about your age. 

“Hi,” she greeted, a small smile on her lips. “I saw you over here all by yourself, and thought you looked kinda lonely, so I wanted to invite you to come dance with me and my friends. We all think you’re really pretty.”

You blinked in surprise at her words, not having expected her to be so forward. As you considered her offer, you took a moment to look her over: she wasn’t very tall, but she wasn’t particularly short, either, with dark hair a little past her shoulders and light colored eyes – maybe grey? It was hard to tell in the dim lighting by the bar. The dress she wore was blue, and even for a flapper style dress it seemed a little short to you, the neckline cut a little lower than most people wore, but it suited her well.

“Who are your friends?”

The girl glanced over her shoulder for a moment, then turned back to you. “The tall man with the white hair, and the two girls in dresses like mine.” She pointed in their direction, though really she didn’t need to; the three of them were impossible to miss.

The man in the group was a giant. You could tell he was well over six feet tall, even from this distance, and his broad shoulders filled out his shirt almost too well, especially since his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his forearms; every part of him was large, apparently, though you shoved that thought aside as quickly as it entered your mind, not wanting to allow yourself to drift down… less appropriate avenues. 

Before you were able to pull your eyes off the man, he caught you staring, and he grinned, shooting you a wink that had your face heating with surprise and embarrassment. Deciding that was your cue to look over the other two women, you quickly averted your gaze. The women appeared to be about the same height as the one who had approached you, with similarly dark hair, though one of them had striking yellow bangs that framed her face, and the other wore a high ponytail with hair that still reached the middle of her back. Their dresses matched, as well, both in the same style as the first woman; the one with yellow bangs wore red, the one with the ponytail wore purple. Even with the unreliable lighting in the room, you could tell they were beautiful.

“You know what?” you said, half to yourself, half to the woman still waiting for an answer. Downing the rest of your drink in one go, you set your glass back down on the bar with a small grin. “Yeah. Let’s go dance.”

Her eyes lit up at your words, and she was quick to grab your hand and pull you back to the dancefloor with her; you couldn’t help but laugh softly at her eagerness, and you hurried to keep up with her.

Pushing through the other partygoers proved easier than you expected, and it wasn’t long at all until you’d reached the rest of the group.

“Hi!” the woman in the red dress enthused, her cheeks flushed, though whether that was from exertion from dancing or from drinking, you couldn’t tell.

“You look really good in that dress!” added the woman in the purple dress, having to shout a little to be heard over the music and laughter.

“Thanks!” you replied with a grin, giving a little twirl to show off the full thing. It was a relatively simple piece, a deep green that accentuated the shape of your body in a very flattering way. The most interesting thing about the dress is the fact that it sparkles, light glinting off the material with every twist and turn you make as you settle into the rhythm of the music with your new companions.

“Glad you could join us!”

The sound of the man’s voice has you turning to face him; it’s a little higher than you would’ve expected from someone of his stature, but it suits him.

“I don’t usually get asked to dance with such good looking people!” Maybe the drink was making you braver than usual, or maybe you were just tired of being a wallflower at all the parties you got dragged to by friends who would eventually abandon you. Either way, you were ready to cut loose and enjoy yourself for once. 

“Hard not to want someone as flashy as you by our sides!” He winked at you again, his platinum hair and magenta eyes practically glowing in the colorful flashes of light that engulfed the dance floor. 

A pleasant warmth filled your chest at his words, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Conversation between the four of you was practically nonexistent after that, the music washing over you as you twisted and swayed spun to the beat, laughing so hard your ribs ached and the muscles in your cheeks hurt. 

For once, your friend had been right: you had found someone to dance and have a good time with.

feels a little weird posting something so short (especially since it took me so long to actually finish, rip) but hey! there's a first time for everything, lol. also ty leigh for looking this over for me!!! i hope you guys all enjoyed this little bite of sparkle daddy and Vibes 💜

tagging: @kentopedia @mitsuristoleme @kentohours @witchbybirth @marinnnnnnnnn @peachdues @ghost-1-y

divider by adornedwithlight

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: when ezra overhears sabine reciting a mandalorian custom, ezra regrets all the years he's missed out on. word count: 1K a/n: i came up with this fic during my mando'a studies. my goal is to someday write an entire fic in mando'a, complete with a work skin that'll include a mando'an font. that dream is still many years off though, but until then, here's a fic inspired by a little bit of manda-lore i've learned!   taglist:@laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

Here For You Now

 It took Ezra a moment to figure out why he'd fallen asleep on the floor, less than a foot away from his bed. He would've totally assumed that he'd fallen off the bed in his sleep again (it was less than a foot's drop; he'd slept through it before,) but the pile of blankets underneath him told him this was definitely intentional. He couldn't quite piece together why he would've done something like this though— until he heard a murmured whisper coming from the bed, a voice he almost thought he was just imagining again, until he remembered that yesterday was the day he'd spent over a decade waiting for.

 Sabine had found him.

 And, since his trailer offered little in the way of comfort, he'd let Sabine take the bed and offered to sleep on the floor instead. Good hospitality, he'd called it, something he'd learned well from the Noti, and also a way to say "thank you" for coming all this way just to bring him home. (And in actuality, he'd never make his favorite person in this [and any] galaxy sleep on the floor— and also he knew he'd irreversibly stumble over his words if he suggested they try to share the bed.)

 But despite being on the floor and definitely sore from it, it was one of the best wakeups he'd had in years— certainly the one that ushered in the most hope along with it. 

Though he'd never lost faith in Sabine, hope had been in short supply the past year or so— that is, until yesterday, when the Noti had told him that they found a girl ("your girl," their language put it, and he was too ecstatic to disagree) and she'd come to the camp looking for him. He'd never thought she'd looked more beautiful than she did when she saw him, and gave him a smile that conveyed the same genuine joy and total disbelief he was feeling.

 And now he woke up knowing she was here, and it wasn't another stupid dream about her return: she was on Perida, actually with him, quietly chanting something in Mando'a.

 "Ni su'cuyi gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum."

 Ezra wasn't sure what she was mumbling about, but it felt almost like some kind of meditation, or a prayer. His interest was piqued when he heard the next two words, and he looked up to see her sitting cross legged with her eyes closed.

 "Kanan Jarrus. Ursa Wren. Alrich Wren. Tristan Wren. Ahsoka Tano. Ni su'cuyi gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum."

 Sabine sighed, and there was a moment of silence.

 "What's that?" Ezra asked, once he was sure she'd finished.

 "Ah-wha?" Sabine started, apparently not having known Ezra was even awake "it's nothing. Just an old Mandalorian tradition. I didn't mean to wake you up. Did you sleep alright?"

 "What kind of old Mandalorian tradition?" Ezra asked, completely disregarding her attempts to divert the conversation.

 "Nothing," Sabine shook her head.

 "Didn't seem like nothing to you."

 "Well, it's nothing that matters to you," Sabine said.

 "Everything you…" Ezra stopped mid-sentence, knowing that if he said "everything you say maters to me," she might start to think he had feelings for her— which he did, but he was pretty sure she still didn't feel the same way, and he didn't want to run the risk of scaring off his only ride back home. So, he switched trains of thought.

 "You mentioned Kanan," Ezra shook his head.

 Sabine looked at him, and in her eyes he saw the softness and pain she was trying all too well to hide. He smiled slightly, nodded slightly, raised his eyebrows slightly, tried to remind her with merely a look that her secrets were safe with him.

 Sabine sighed.

 "It's a remembrance," she offered, "'I am alive, but you are dead.'" she shook her head as she choked out the words, "'I remember you, so you are eternal.'"

 Ezra smiled a little at the sentiment, at keeping the memory of someone alive long after they're gone— but then he realized that the names of her family were included in that list.

 "You mentioned your family too," Ezra said, quietly, "Are they…?"

 Sabine nodded, "they're gone."

 "And Ahsoka?"

 "I think so," she said, the words petering out as a single breath.

 Ezra thought he saw a tear trickle down her cheek as she looked away from him. He didn't fight the urge to climb up onto the bed next to her and wrap an arm around her for comfort. He realized after he did so that he'd taken a gamble, and she was likely to be annoyed by his attempt to comfort her, so he was surprised when, instead of twisting away from him, she actually leaned closer, accepting the shoulder he gave her to cry on.

 "I'm so sorry, Sabine," Ezra whispered, with no idea what other words he could even offer.

 "There's nothing you could've done," Sabine said, "there's nothing anyone could've done."

 Ezra remembered thinking the same thing when the empire took his parents, that there was nothing anyone could've done to help him— but that didn't mean he didn't want anyone to.

 "I could've been there for you," Ezra shook his head, "I should've been there for you. Kriff, I've missed out on so much."

 Sabine lifted her head off his shoulder and looked up at him.

 "But I am here for you now," Ezra said, letting go of her and resting his hand on the bed behind her, "if you wanna talk about it at all."

 Sabine shook her head and looked away.

 "I don't wanna talk about it."

 "Alright," Ezra nodded, "is there anything I can do?"

 "Could you just sit here with me?" Sabine asked.

 "Absolutely," Ezra smiled.

 They treasured a moment's silence, before Sabine leaned a little closer, resting her head on his arm again. She glanced up at him as a smile crossed his face, and he rested his head on top of hers.

 Maybe he hadn't been there for her for the last few years. Maybe there were a lot of moments she'd needed him that he missed out on.

 But this moment? It wasn't going to be one of them— he was here for her now, and that's what mattered.

 And he wasn't going to stop being there for her ever again.

[voidwhump]

Here Be Demons #1

Ok, so apparently at some point I wrote like 5k words of exorcism based whump and just. Never posted most of it. I’m going through and editing/rewriting to try and warm myself back up to writing regularly. Also lemme know if the formatting is fucked up I’m posting on mobile :)

Contains: implied religion, demonic possession, exorcisms, ~1k words

The blood was evaporating from the walls.

That was a good sign. Ariel finished packing his equipment into his canvas bag and stood, watching as the last of the bloody writing lifted from the rough wood planks. It left faint pink stains that luckily weren’t readable. His patient was slumped limp in the chair Ariel had bound him to, head lolled forward onto his chest. Ariel cautiously walked over, checking over the runes on the manacles for any deformities or changes to the script that would nullify the binding. None stood out. After another second of consideration he unlocked the cuffs, the risk of needing to rebind outweighed by the hope that waking up unrestrained would be less stressful to his client than the other way around.

As the manacles clunked against the hard wood chair the man groaned, eyelids fluttering. Ariel backed away a few steps, one hand on his pendant as the man raised his head.

“Hey, it’s Simon, right? How’re you feeling?”

The man looked up, eyes searching the empty barn before settling on Ariel. He had developed dark circles that could be mistaken for bruising, and his lips were dry enough to crack and bleed when he opened his mouth to respond.

“Yeah, better,” Simon’s voice sounded as dry as his lips looked.

Ariel offered him his water. The man gulped it down, wiping his mouth off as he handed the emptied skin back to Ariel.

“Thanks. Did anything happen? Is anyone hurt?”

Ariel shook his head at the common question. “No one got hurt. You’re lucky you have a wife that listens to her children, they’ll almost always notice before anyone else,”

Simon smiled and let Ariel help him to his feet. He was trembling, and leaned on him as they began to walk back to the house. Ariel would tell him to take it easy for a day or two if he could.

“Let’s go let everyone know you’re alright, and then I’ll give you some temporary wards so nothing can hit you when you’re down.”

They entered the house where Simon’s family was waiting. As the door closed behind them, Simon’s wife, Jess, peeked around the kitchen door frame. At her husband’s tired wave, she flew down the hall, coming close to knocking him off his feet with a hug. She took his face in her hands and inspected him, looking over to Ariel.

“No demons?”

“No demons,”

Jess kissed her husband and led him to their living room, Ariel following behind. Simon’s daughters were on the couch, waiting expectantly. They were soon clinging to his legs, causing Simon’s feet to drag as he stumbled to the couch to collapse. The children immediately took advantage of his prone position, climbing on top of him. A rapid series of questions followed:

“What do demons look like?”

“Was it scary?”

Ariel sat down with Jess and filled her in. Simon wouldn’t remember much, he should relax for a day or so, and they should be extra vigilant for a month or so. He handed the family some wooden charms that when activated would serve as a light repellent of the supernatural for around a week. He also mentioned that if anything ‘unlucky’ that happened regularly stopped happening while they had the charms, it might be due to an outside force and they should feel free to have him back for a more general cleanse.

Ariel waved goodbye to the family and walked home, taking his time to wander through the trees. He noted the life around him, juvenile birds perching nearby, how the leaves had matured from spring to now, early summer. It would be their off season soon. He made it home just as the sun was setting. He was greeted by Layli, who appeared from behind a tree as Ariel approached the outskirts of the town.

“Success I’d assume?” Layli smiled and looked at Ariel expectantly.

“It went well. He’s got an adorable family. I’m glad they caught it so early.” Ariel accepted Layli’s half hug and they walked together to Ariel’s house.

The town was beautiful in the sunset, the last rays of light streaming through the tree branches casting a warm orange glow on the houses tucked around trunks. It wasn’t good luck to clear large area around here.

Ariel invited Layli to sit down and have some tea and they accepted. He set up the kettle and got out the honey and tea leaves. The two went back and forth for a while, planning a day for a picnic or maybe just a walk sometime soon. The kettle boiled and Layli got down some mugs while Ariel poured the water through the tea leaves into the teapot. They waited for the tea to steep and lounged around. The conversation remained light. It was good for both of them to keep it that way, what with their line of work. The tea was finished and Layli had things to get done so they left, Ariel sitting down to finish his record of the exorcism.

The possession had been caught early, and he’d forced it into the second, more exposed stage so he could start the exorcism with minimal damage. He admitted that he’d rushed a bit and the demon remained unidentified but definitely minor. The client had to be restrained but the demon either didn’t know how to or couldn’t modify the restraints or holy symbol. No backup had been required. The family had been provided with charms and instructions.

Ariel left his notebook open on the desk, waiting for the ink to dry. He sat back in his chair. It had been a while since he’d had an actual break, sure, there had been gaps between jobs, but he was always on call and it was tiring. Maybe he’d take a real break. Go visit his parents or something. It had been a while. He closed the notebook and stretched. Time for bed. Ariel got up and changed into a more comfortable shirt, lying down on his bed, gazing out the window at the rising moon. He closed his eyes and let himself relax, imagining the tension of the exorcism dripping off him and soaking into the floor and dissipating into the dirt underneath it. He quickly drifted off.

[lady-phasma]

Hey! could i get prompts 1“Do I look like I’m messing around? Do I look like I won’t punish you?” and 49 “You’re going to come untouched, do you understand?” with Daemon x fem!reader please?

I wasn't at all sure how I was going to do this so I hope it turned out okay. It was a surprisingly difficult set of prompts, even for Daemon.

Obviously 18+ NSFW

Apparently I can’t write anything less than 1k words.

Daemon watched you hungrily while you removed your clothing. You knew you were in trouble by the way he had brought you back to his quarters with no ceremony, dragging you away from the library. You wondered absently if you had misbehaved on purpose, taunted him to react. 

He had instructed you to wait for him after dinner. You hadn’t consciously disobeyed at the time but the longer you had committed to the disobedience the more fun it seemed. 

“Do I look like I’m messing around? Do I look like I won’t punish you?” he asked as he walked toward you. Only your small clothes remained on. He tugged at the laces. 

“No, Ser,” you replied looking from his violet eyes to your feet. You shivered and gooseflesh broke out over your exposed flesh. 

“Good.”

He slid your small clothes off you. You were always tempted to cover yourself when he made you stand naked in front of him. You weren’t allowed to but the instinct had not yet gone away. He knew it bothered you immensely. His mouth crooked up at the corner as your hands twitched resisting that urge. He had noticed. 

Daemon ran his hand up the back of your neck and gripped your hair, pulling your head back. You tried not to groan from the tension. The tugging on the base of your hair tugged you deep in your core. You looked up at him. That was what he wanted. He needed to see your embarrassment. 

In all your time with him he had learned exactly what could embarrass you, what could cause just enough of that to make you immediately wet. And he was seldom wrong. He used his other hand to put your hand on his pants. He was as hard as you were wet. Now you did groan. It was a tiny sound but enough that you felt his dick twitch against your palm. 

“You want my cock?” he smiled now. “You need to be a good girl for that, don’t you?”

You tried to nod but couldn’t with his hand so tightly wound in your hair. His other hand pressed your palm more firmly against his hardness to emphasize his point. 

“Yes,” you swallowed. “Yes, Ser.” 

He pushed your hand off him. He slid his hand down from your hair and wrapped his it gently around your throat. Smiling in that mischievous way he had he briefly tightened his thumb on your neck. Then he let you go and motioned for you to move to the bed. You did as you were directed. 

You watched him watch you as you lay back on the pillow. Your thighs were pressed tightly together in anticipation. He eyed them with a deep desire that you craved. Your eyes travelled down to his hands, he was casually, almost absently rubbing the front of his pants. You unconsciously licked your lips. He had removed his shirt before he had told you to undress. You looked up to his bared chest. His scared flesh was dark pink in the dim light of the room. His silver hair lay over his shoulder, highlighted orange by the fire behind him.

Daemon began to unlace his pants, catching your eyes. He held your gaze, daring you to look away, to look at what you wanted to desperately. You wouldn’t. You loved this back and forth, giving him power and taking it back from him. It was easy for you to submit, give him the satisfaction but sometimes it was more fun for you both if you pushed back. Your defiance often left him more lustful than if he had gotten what he wanted from the beginning. 

You rubbed your thighs together feeling the wetness between them. His constant gaze made you ache. You finally glanced down, unable to resist watching him free himself from his pants. He slid them off and looked at you. He had challenged you not to look because he knew you couldn’t resist. Your mouth watered and your cunt ached. You wanted, needed what you knew he would give to you. 

He stepped toward the bed. Your eyes flitted up to his face and back down, trying not to show your eagerness. But you were eager. You watched him stroke himself. He prolonged your anticipation, enjoying it. You pressed your thighs together hoping for friction that he wouldn’t notice. He did, of course, and pulled your legs apart with his unoccupied hand. You gasped and blushed. 

Daemon licked his lips as he looked between your spread legs. You knew your cunt was soaked. You felt the cool air of the room on your lips. You shivered. You needed him to touch you or let you touch yourself and you knew that wouldn’t happen soon. His strokes sped up and you couldn’t stop your hips from moving slightly. He smirked. 

You weren’t sure if he wanted you to but you increased the movement just a bit. You ground against nothing. His eyes narrowed as he watched you. His stroking stopped and he squeezed his dick tightly at the base. You paused the movements of your hips momentarily and his brows furrowed. 

“Did I tell you to stop?” he growled.

“You didn’t tell me to begin, Ser.” You smiled up at him petulantly. His hand darted out and slapped the inside of your thigh. It stung but made your hips move again. You smiled and bit your lip. You whined and pushed your ass into the mattress. You hands twitched at your sides. 

“You’re going to come untouched, do you understand?” His smile grew and his eyes glinted. Your eyes widened at his words. You gripped the bedclothes in frustration. You weren’t sure how you could possibly do what he wanted. But at the thought you felt heat flare up from your core and, impossibly, more wetness leaked from your cunt. 

Daemon began long, languid strokes along his length. He spread your legs just a little wider, making any possibility of friction disappear completely. This time you whined loudly. You exaggerated rolling your hips, showing him how frustrated you already were. There was no pity in his eyes. You saw only the dark satisfaction looking back at you now. You knew this would not be easy but would be worth it. Any punishment he could think of that was this exciting would be worth the slight transgression. 

You writhed on the bed, aching for something, anything to grind against. You felt the walls of your cunt clench and release as your hips rolled. The look on Daemon’s face propelled you to try harder. He looked so pleased and entranced by your movements. You watched as he swiped his fingers over the tip of his cock, collecting the moisture that had collected there. He increased his speed, his lips parting slightly. 

You consciously clenched and released your muscles deep inside you, hoping for some kind of stimulation. This might just work but you needed something else. Daemon rarely let you down.

“Yes, fuck, that’s it,” he groaned. 

“Daemon please,” you began to beg. You didn’t know what you were begging for. He wanted to watch you suffer. You were suffering. Your cunt ached greedily. 

“Good girl,” he almost whispered, unable to take his eyes off you. “Such a good girl.”

His grip on his cock tightened and you watched his eyes close to narrow slits. Something in his face made you feel a heat begin to coil deep inside you. You listened to him murmur more encouragement as your hips slowed and you pressed your ass into the bed. You clutched at the sheets.

You squeezed your eyes closed. Your breaths came out in small pants. You heard Daemon groan and before you could open your eyes you felt his fingers slip inside you. It was fast and rough and you clenched around him. You ground against his hand. It sent a wave of chills over your body that he couldn’t resist, that he had to touch you, be inside you. 

“So fucking wet,” he sighed. “Come for me.”

You did. Your back arched and your head pressed into the pillow as you lifted your hips to take more of his fingers in you. He slid in a third finger and began to fuck you. You tried to look at him, to watch him like he was watching you. Your orgasm wracked through your body and your eyes closed against your will. 

The sounds of his hand on his cock and the wet, slick of his fingers working inside you sent you over the edge. You shook and bore down on his fingers until he could do no more than curl them inside you. Then he moaned your name as he came. You cried out when you felt his cum land hot on your belly.  

Your thighs quivered as you relaxed and he pulled out. You looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. That particular smile of his always made you feel a kind of pride. Pride of a job well done. 

“Thank you, Ser,” you said as you curled on your side and reached your hand out to him, inviting him to lay down with you. 

[kickassfu]

could you do 10 for the ask game please! :)

Thank you for the prompt lovely!!!!! I hope you enjoy this (not) mini fic. Because apparently my brain decided to write more than 1k words :)

Also on AO3.

10. i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything.

“First memory you have of me.”

“What?” Steve startles out of his slouch; he definitely hadn’t fallen asleep watching the movie. Definitely not.

“Come on, Harrington. Keep up. We’re playing twenty questions.”

It’s a little scary and a lot adorable the way Eddie is so excited about all of this, but mostly it’s just confusing. “We are? Since when?”

“Since right now.”

Maybe this is his punishment for falling asleep. Or maybe Eddie is just a hyper little shit that Steve loves too much to ever say no to, and they both know he’ll just go along with whatever Eddie comes up with on the spot for fun, or torture.

“And that’s your first question? I thought these started out with shit questions, like what’s your favorite color or whatever.”

“Ugh, fine. That can be your question then. And it’s black. I know, how original of me. My turn now, what’s the first memory of me that you can remember?”

“Dude.” He wants to ask why? Why that question? Why does it matter? But again, this is Eddie and Steve loves him. Is in love with him. It only takes one look at those dark brown eyes of his, shining and interested and fond, and Steve is a fucking goner. He’d give him anything if he asked. Carve his heart out of his chest to give it to him. Anything. Everything. “Ok then.”

Steve sits up, folding a leg underneath him so he can turn towards Eddie on the couch, realizing they’re way closer than he expected. It takes his breath away a bit and he has to clear his throat twice before he can control his wildly beating heart. Eddie looks so excited, expectant too, waiting for Steve to actually talk and just, “Right. Ok.”

The thing is, at surface level the story is silly and practically nothing; if you don’t look too deep into it Steve is fine. Free. Eddie is a hundred percent the type to look deeper, to find meaning in flippant words, to seek until he finds the blood he’s smelling in the shark infested waters that is Steve’s life.

And.

Steve is so gone on him he can hardly keep it inside on a good day just talking shit together, much less talking about the moment that rocked little baby him to his core.

He can totally do this.

Just. 

Keep it chill. He’ll never know it. Never remember it.

“Y’know, I think it was the first day of school.”

Eddie’s looking at him oddly right away and somehow Steve’s already messed it up. Great.

“Sadly, there were a lot of first days of school and then even more subsequent days after. So I’d appreciate a little more accuracy and details, please.” Eddie smiles maniacally, leaning his head on his fist, giving his full attention.

Steve kind of wants to bite him for it.

“Fuck. Fine. It was your first day of school. You had just moved in with your uncle and you were a surly little shit. Didn’t talk to anyone and you glared at everyone that even looked your way.”

What he doesn’t say is that he had a fuzzy head, the beautiful curls nowhere in sight yet, that Steve wanted to rub and pat (and bite). That he had noticed how tight Eddie held onto the straps of his backpack to the point it looked painful. His bright brown eyes shining in an attempt to keep his tears in. How he made himself look bigger, meaner so no one would fuck with him.

But-

“That’s not really a memory though. You’re just describing how I was acting the first day you saw me. You can do better, Stevie. Come on.”

“Do you even remember me from back then?”

“You can’t ask another question before answering mine.”

“Fuck you.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” Eddie whispers, wiggling his eyebrows and potentially trying to murder Steve.

Because what the fucking fuck.

He seriously hopes he isn’t blushing, even though his face feels so hot. Too hot not to be giving everything away, right then and there. Eddie and his unintentional cruel jokes will be the death of him. Ain’t that a thought, Eddie ever wanting him. That’s the biggest joke he’s ever heard, and sadly he’s the punchline.

“I have no idea why this is so important to you but here you have it. I kept following you around like a sad puppy, and you basically told me to fuck off. That’s my first memory of you. Happy now, dickhead?”

“Keep going,” Eddie says, scooching over even more towards Steve, their knees touching and he just feels like crying. No idea why, but his eyes burn from the effort not to start bawling in front of the man he loves.

“You realized what a little asshole you were being when I started sobbing right there in front of you. Which let me tell you, I didn’t do often or at all. Because by then I had already gone through the very hard lesson of men don’t cry, and especially not Harrington men, so man up and stop being a whiny child. But I was crying my little heart out because you didn’t-” want me, need me, like me, “You thought I was annoying. And you just grabbed my face, thumbed my tears away and apologized. It was so earnest too. I guess you were always soft-hearted and kind.”

Somewhere in that whole ramble of his, Eddie picked up Steve’s hand without him even noticing it, rubbing soft circles on his knuckles.

“Is that really all?”

“What’s your first memory of me?” Steve asks instead. He’s already cracked his ribs open for Eddie to see, he can’t- he just can’t say it if Eddie doesn’t remember it. His heart will be broken either way but he needs to know.

Eddie’s real smile is absolutely brilliant. Quiet and soft, capable of lighting up the whole world, and not something Steve is used to seeing often. It’s absolutely breathtaking, Steve has no idea how to react to it.

“A beautiful, crying, boy kissed me and then ran away blushing and stuttering up a storm. It was all very cute and innocent. I was on cloud nine the whole way home, touching my lips with my fingers over and over again.” Eddie sighs dreamily, bringing Steve’s hand to those very same lips, kissing it, “He was my first love, you know?”

Steve doesn’t even try to stop the tears, just lets them run their course until they tire of it. “Why are we playing twenty questions?”

“Hm. Well, we were watching a movie and you fell asleep.”

“Yeah?” Sometimes, Steve feels like Eddie thrives in confusing him. Gets some sick enjoyment out of it.

“And you just looked so cozy, so cute, so adorable. I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you. Always. Jesus H. Christ, so much, all the fucking time. But I couldn’t just do that. So, twenty questions. Except it was really one question that I was interested in asking.”

“Because you wanted to know if I remembered kissing you?”

“Because I wanted to know if you still wanted to kiss me.”

“And? Do I?”

“Who was your first love?” Eddie asks in between biting Steve’s fingers, instead of replying.

“Why not ask about my current love instead? Or who I want my last love to be? Stop obsessing over the past, you weirdo.”

“Aren’t those all the same thing?”

It’s the smirk that does it. The surety. The confidence, no hesitation in sight. Like he knows Steve so completely, understands him, sees him. It’s everything that makes Eddie who he is, that gets Steve to crawl onto his lap, to kiss him till neither one can breathe.

How many first kisses can you get with the same person, Steve wonders.

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

W o w

2 more stellar chapters!!!!! I can’t wait for our fav receptionist to try out being a ring girl! (Is the asshole guy gonna try something and we get to see Frankie/the guys jump in? Bc protective men is 😭😭)

Anyway I love love love how you wrote the guy’s relationships with each other!!!!

If and only if inspiration strikes, I would love a scene from a “guys night”

Either before our girls comes into their lives or after, just then having fun and being them 🥹 bc I feel a lot of fics over look the importance of their friendship esp in regard to Frankie like Frankie fics will sometimes act like he has had no support until the girl comes in his life but yours just shows how much they all love each other

Doesn’t gotta be long (or even at all!) maybe just a nice lil thing 🥰

Ily have a wonderful day!!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Best Friends, Beers, and Bets - Through the Scope Drabble

Rating: everyone (just the boys being silly and goofy together)

Word Count: 1K

Notes: hi everyone ! i know i have been gone for a hot minute and i am deeply sorry about that. there has been a lot of not so fabulous things going on in my life and in my mental state that has left with with little motivation to write. the worst part is? im 3/4 done with chapter 11 ... like girl plz just finish that hoe DAMN ! but i found the motivation today to write for this lovely ask i received a little bit ago (: i love the idea of getting to take a peak inside how the TF boys are before Estrella came into the picture. so a very big thank you to @romanarose for this !! chronologically, this takes place before chapter one.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Frankie, Will, and Santi sit together in the back of The Barrel at their usual table. The bar isn't particularly full this evening, but the comforting hum of conversations emitting from the regulars fill the empty chairs. They talk and laugh amongst each other as they wait for their last member to arrive: Benny. It had been only four days since his receptionist quit, but the hurt was apparent to everyone. Usually, she was the one to help him clean up after they close the gym down for the evening. Both of them managed to get it done relatively quickly too. Unfortunately, in her absence, Benny had to do it all himself. The other guys had repeatedly offered to give him a hand in the evenings, but Benny refused. He said that he had it covered and that they should just wait for him at the bar. Not wanting to press him further, the trio would retreat across the street. 

“Here he is! We all thought you fell into the washing machine and couldn’t get out.” Santi claps Benny on the shoulder as he makes his way to buy a round for everyone. 

“You were 15 minutes slower than yesterday.” Will says, tapping his watch while his brother takes a seat next to him. 

“Gee, that makes me feel great! Fish, do you want to rub salt in my wounds too?” 

“I’m just happy you’re finally here, man.” Frankie’s eyes convey sincerity. “But you’re going to run yourself ragged doing all that clean up by yourself. Why don’t you let us help?” 

“Yeah.” Santi rejoins the table and passes out the bottles. A few seconds of silence go by as each man takes a moment to wash away the stress of their day with deep gulps of chilled liquid. “We are offering to help you clean. It’s not like you’re forcing us.” 

Will nods in agreement and tips his bottle in both Frankie and Santi’s direction.

“I just hate the idea of y’all doin’ work I’m completely capable of.” 

“It doesn’t make you any less of a man if we help you clorox a few work benches, Benny.” Frankie says gingerly.

“I know, I know. To be honest with y’all?” Benny scoots closer into the table. “It’s kinda lonely there without someone to talk to in between clients.”

“My bed is going to be kinda lonely too if it makes you feel any better.” Santi offers. 

This manages to get a laugh out of the very tired looking Benny. “Oh is it now? Poor you.”

“Poor me is right! Your receptionist may have kept you company during the day but she kept me company during the night. Now that she's quit, that means I have to as well.”

“That’s not what that means at all, Pope.” Will says with a raised eyebrow. “You can still see her even if she doesn’t work at Brass Knuckles anymore.” 

“Well she also started talking about getting exclusive…”

“And there’s the real reason!” Will laughs. 

“Can we get back to my issue?” Benny begs. “What do I do? No one has answered the ads I’ve posted online. I don’t know how much longer I can handle juggling training clients and taking care of the in between tasks.”

“What about good old fashioned paper flyers? You could give some to me to hang at the auto shop. Will could take some to the VA?”

“Absolutely not.” Santi says with conviction. “I will not have a man take this job and ruin my chances of meeting another beautiful woman.” 

“Fine.” Frankie rolls his eyes. “What about a bookstore or a coffee shop? Does that sound better to you?”

“That’s not a bad idea, but do people even read those flyers? I know I don’t.” Benny shrugs.

“Well you’re not the one that's desperate for a job. I would just make sure you print out the ads on bright paper so it catches peoples eye.” 

“That’s not a bad idea either.” Benny says to his brother. “Still, who knows how long it's going to take before someone calls about it?” 

All four men are quiet as they brainstorm possible solutions to the problem that's currently plaguing them.

“I’ve got it!” Santi snaps his fingers. “I bet you that you can’t find another receptionist within a week of the last one leaving.” 

“Pope, what the fuck?” Benny looks shocked.

“Yeah, why are you actively saying he can’t do it?” Frankie questions. 

Santi only chuckles and Will shortly joins him when he puts the pieces together in his head. 

“You cabrons aren’t listening to me. I bet you that you can’t find another receptionist within a week of the last one leaving. You’ve never backed away from a bet as long as I’ve known you, Benny.” 

“He does love to prove you wrong, Pope.” Will has his arms crossed over his stomach and they rise and fall easily as he begins laughing again. 

A look of realization settles over the two other men.

“Alright, I’ll take you up on that.” Benny and Pope shake hands across the table. “You’re a dick though. She’s been gone for four days now. I only have three days to find someone else to hire.” 

“Damn.” Pope takes a sip of his drink. “I guess you better get your ass into the printer shop tomorrow and make some flyers. If you don’t, drinks are on you when the clock runs out.” 

Will and Frankie cheer knowing that no matter how this bet ends, they will be getting free beer. 

“What happens if a man calls before a woman does?” Benny looks smugly at Pope. “I’m not goin’ to tell him no if it’s in my three day window of search time.”

“Won’t happen. I can feel it in my bones.” 

“Even if, what did you say before, a beautiful woman calls about the job, that doesn’t mean she’ll want to immediately hop into your bed.” Frankie states playfully.

“You think she’s going to want to hop into yours, Fish?”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @mashomasho @lilmizmoz @angstylittlepascal @sofiparallel @selflcontrol @adriennemichelle98 @painitemoondust @pedritosgirl2000 @tpwkmera @romanarose @missbabyjay @missgurrl }

[asgodsfall-if]

As Gods Fall Chapter 3 Update

I have risen from the dead! Well more like dug myself out from under an unreasonable pile of stuff to do at once. But that is not important. What is however is that I'm back and once again able to write on a consistent schedule.

Chapter 3 of As Gods Fall serves primarily as a moment of respite after the rather frantic ending to Chapter 2 (unless you're a smooth infiltrator) that focuses on the more grounded part of detective work. Analyze evidence, interrogate suspects, make some new friends. Or enemies if you prefer.

It's a short update of roughly 9500 words bringing the current total to 88.5 words. (I've rebuilt some bloated technical systems which is why there's technically 1k less total words than it should.)

In the next few days I'll be posting a rough roadmap for where I want to take AGF in the next few months, so stay tuned. For now however enjoy the new update, which can be now found on Moody since Dashingdon apparently can't be updated anymore.

If there's any feedback you want to share feel free to join me on Discord below. I'd love to heat about what you loved and even more so what you think could use some improvement.

Obligatory Patreon and Ko-fi plugs:

https://www.patreon.com/cavusrex

https://ko-fi.com/cavusrex

[moccabunie]

things I've learned after a year writing fanfiction

This is a post from a non-writer who, apparently, now writes (❓) And this is a little crazy to me, considering that a year ago writing less than 1k decent words took a lot of effort. But this year I have completed a +100k project. (It's still difficult, though.)

I found out that the more I wrote, the easier it was to get into the story. So I think that being captivated by my own story has made a lot. I am an eager fanfiction reader, but I had yet to really try to write something on my own.

That was until I got hyper-fixated on three characters and wrote a small story about them sharing a room, and it was one of the funniest and most rewarding things I've done. So I was like "oh, maybe I can try to imagine stories I would like to read?"

(1) story one - a bird told me to wait

The first thing I considered was to make it completely self-indulging. The second was to make it as evocative as possible, not only telling what was happening. I like sensations and emotions, so I really wanted to write things I would like to feel as a reader. I wrote this story, and after that, I added a second longer part because I was enjoying it a lot. I used to doodle about the characters and make small annotations about their dynamics, but there wasn't really a lot of planning here.

(2) story two - beneath the moonlight

My second attempt was a three-chapter story (not so distant from the previous one that can be read as three parts too). But for this one, I wanted to challenge myself because I wanted to explore new themes and tropes, so I made a brief list of the things that should appear here. (but honestly, I just wanted to write a soft mating bite scene lmao, because I was super into a/b/o at that time.) I used keep notes app this time.

I barely showed explicit themes here but I got to enjoy the story anyway. This one wasn't difficult to write because I felt familiar with the characters. It's a light story but these 20k words gave me the courage to take a step further. I said to myself

"stop being a coward. you have enjoyed this. keep writing."

(3) story three - lucid dreams

This one was planned for four or five chapters, quite in the same line as beneath the moonlight. But, and the keyword is planned, it became a full 13 chapters as I developed the story and the characters. If I wanted it to be coherent then I needed to explain the things, build the context, and introduce the world. But it was also an experimental work. I took my notebook and listed the new things I wanted to try, such as - write in past tense - write first and edit later

my process was something like this • imagine random scenarios with pretty imagery as I listened to music • doodling the characters doing things so I didn't forget • open the notes app to write random sentences and dialogues in the middle of the night, I'll find a place for them later • dream about the story and daydream about the story

as for the physical notebook, I have scribbled A LOT there during the writing process.

(a little bit chaotic but functional enough)

One thing I wanted to keep in mind was the evolution of the characters, or in other words, how they were gonna be at the start and the end of the story. And this made things a lot simpler because it gave me an insight that was helpful whenever I had to decide what kind of decisions the characters would make along the story.

Parallelly, I was aware of my narrative flaws, as well as there was a lot of vocabulary and grammar that would escape me in a different language. So I used the notebook to do writing research. Some of my pages were like "how to write action scenes," or "tips for flat scenes." Whenever I felt blocked I read again these pages.

I'm going to copy down here some tips that were useful during the writing block days.

• read another book or fic you like, since sometimes, getting yourself caught by another writer's style can help you to flow through your own. • scroll on pinterest and try to find pictures that capture the vibe of your story, maybe try to describe them or setting a scene in a similar environment that you can see? • changing the setting (for example, day to night, or sun to rain) can add more variants and ambiental tools to play with. • or, changing the character's pov. maybe a scene feels flat because it's narrated by the wrong character. • use objects, not just the characters.

(4) finishing a story

To have an insight into the plot, I wrote the main scenes in really short sentences. That was useful for the first chapters, but suddenly I had 70K words of the story and a lot of details to track. Frequently I had to split chapters into two parts because the "short sentence" became a very long scene. See this comparison: the scenes' guide in the last chapters usually are fragmented into shorter scenes. That's how I avoided losing my mind as I wrote (?)

These are a few tips that were useful to me during this last part.

• write the important plot points as they are mentioned so you can come back to them later and don't forget about them. • keep a scrip to annotate significant things about the characters to make the story consistent. • notion pages is a great place to make inspo boards (usually I added 4 pictures for each scene). During the last chapter, I used the to-do list tool to keep track of the closed story points and the things that were yet to happen • list some of your favourite past scenes, those that have been nice to write, so you can pursue the same vibe again.

The last two months writing the fic I joined the nanowrimo to keep myself motivated but also to have an impulse. My only goal was getting the habit of writing everyday, not minding how many words (usually it was around 400-600 daily). I ended that month with 16k added on my wordcount (to me, that was a lot!). Since I enjoyed that little challenge, I did the same on the next month, resulting in finishing the fic :)

The most important thing during this time was remembering myself from time to time why I am doing this. Let me say I am an utter perfectionist, so I would easily get trapped in making-the-story-perfect, which would end in a writing block. So each time this happened I repeated to myself that I didn't want to write a good story. I just wanted to enjoy and have fun while writing a story, so I should write only things I enjoy. And this simple thing was incredibly helpful whenever I wasn't able to continue a scene.

I think that this is what most writers say, but now I have come to understand that it's true: just have fun. Write what you wanna read.

(5) the next story - requiem of the sleepless

This would be the third part of my first fic. I miss these unhinged boys and I have a little draft of (unholy) things I want to happen to them! Now I want to unlearn everything I know. I want this story to be zero planned, I just want to ~feel~ the characters and make a lot of random things happen. This is about not forgetting why I started, so here I am again.

Being a non-writer writing.

thank you for reading ♡