#the flash 750

[stellasolaris]

[zukkaoru]

My ninth grade English teacher walks us through the prologue of Romeo & Juliet, explaining how it serves as a synopsis of the play, and how it spoils the ending. Here are our characters, here is where they live, here is why their love is forbidden. You will spend the next two hours learning to love them only for their blood to spill across the stage. This is the only ending they were ever meant for.

There is no universe in which Romeo & Juliet can survive.

jujutsu kaisen, gege akutami || a collection of tragedies, zukkaoru (march 15, 2023)

[id in alt text]

[randomingoftherandomness]

i JUST saw the spicy liyan fic!! this reminds me so much of the yuanyi moreg baby fic from earlier on. could we see liyan baby as well ?? 🥺

He tires far too easily and Li Lun can't help hovering a little more than is necessary. A hand on the small of Zhu Yan's back, a quiet and unwavering presence by his side while he is tucked up against him, sleeping. He does everything he can to be there next to him.

And between them, the swell of his belly is a constant reminder of the why.

They're immortal, ageless beings. There is much mysteries about their existence, much they themselves do not understand. It goes to reason that Li Lun has never thought about fatherhood or even siring a child. Sure, he has had his string of lovers, and so has Zhu Yan, but a child born in the Wilderness had never been on the forefront of his mind.

And so, as with most things in his life, when they discover that their recent coupling under the first full moon of the summer solstice had resulted in Li Lun's seed taking, he's distinctly reminded about why Zhu Yan is the reason for all the best things in his life.

"If you think any louder, I think you might just wake the baby."

Li Lun huffs, half amused and half offended that any child of theirs would be any less than pleased to hear his voice. He has already started amassing a collection of lullabies and stories for their baby to grow with. There's even a corner of their den that he has set aside for their little one.

"Worrying for no reason again?" Zhu Yan laughs, smoothing a hand over his belly. Suddenly, he pauses, eyes going big and round. Grabbing Li Lun by the wrist, he presses his hand over the underside of his belly, excited and grinning from ear to ear.

Li Lun cocks his head, curious but the answer to his unspoken query comes when he feels the push under his palm. A barely there distention that disappears just as quick. Li Lun holds his breath. And there it is again, now a rolling motion that he can track from the base of his palm up to his pointer finger.

"Is that..."

"Yeah!" Zhu Yan chuckles, a happy flush colouring his cheeks a pretty pink. "That's our little one."

Our little one. The words reverberate in Li Lun's skull. Just these words and their syllables is enough to bring a hot stinging to his nose and a prickle to his eyes. Our little one, their little one.

"Oh, you silly old tree..." Zhu Yan sighs, lips curling up in an endeared helplessness. Lifting his hands, he wipes away the stray tears that escape before Li Lun can hold it back in. "Whatever shall I do about you."

Thumb rubbing up against the skin of Zhu Yan's belly, Li Lun quietly thinks there's really nothing Zhu Yan can do. Not when he has made him happy beyond his wildest dreams. He tells him as much, croaking through the wetness in his voice.

Zhu Yan merely laughs, shaking his head before tucking himself back into Li Lun's embrace. "My silly old tree."

[eroticdemon]

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[jdfitzroy]

Writing Challenge | "Nyt Manifold"

A 750 word short story challenge taken from the centre of an imaginary novel.

by JD FitzRoy Write a 750 word fragment as if taken from the middle of a bigger story or novel. Science Fiction. ‘You got that, synth?’ the general asked. ‘Yes, sir,’ I replied. I’d seen the voikit in use, all the organics had one. It was as common among them as yawns and toilet breaks. He’d turned the cube over in his ancient, leathery hand. They got so old, so quickly, momentarily drifting.…

[donaldoo234]

CONGRATS Collect your Cash Gift $750 Voucher per person if you interested click here https://urlis.net/as3f4ign

[mywritersmind]

WINNING KISS - LN4

summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.

listen up : no warnings!!

word count : 750

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.

I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.

“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.

“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.

He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.

A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.

She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.

The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.

As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.

She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.

My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.

I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”

I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”

“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”

“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.

She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.

“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.

She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”

I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”

She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.

“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.

“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.

“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.

She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.

When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.

She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.

When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Deep in the Forest [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just a short, smutty, imagine. You and Loki in a tent having feelings. Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Mild angst. (w/c 750)

Loki’s lips brush down the delicate skin of your throat; kissing slowly in time with his thrusts. You can feel your pulse inside his breath, flooding the sliver of space between you as his mouth comes to rest on your shoulder with a whisper of praise.

Quiet. You have to be quiet.

The way he moves inside you, the muted whimpers he stifles with every drag of his cock to the tip—if you could absorb a moment, wrap yourself in it forever, it would be this one.

Moments ago, his fingers burst through the thin bottom of your tent. He was willing himself not to explode, or moan so loudly the foxes would begin to howl. Either way, it amounts to the same.

They curl deep in the earth as he roots himself: his digits in soil, his cock in your cunt. The other hand plays with your breast, thumbing the nipple, and his sighs grow heavy while the humidity rises. “Darling,” he murmurs, and you comb damp straggles of hair from his face. His sapphire eyes find yours in the gloom of smothered torchlight; hooded, fogged with a desire he can never name. But you can: ‘love’—and so will he…eventually. The others are in tents dotted around yours.

Cap said, explicitly, ‘no, late night shenanigans’ while looking directly at Loki. And Loki had smiled, innocence swelling in his eyes as he pressed a palm to his chest: wounded. But he came, like he always does, because he can’t resist what you are together. He never can. “Darling,” he chokes again, as another liquid rock of his hips makes you forget your own name. Your legs tighten around him, pushing him deeper, and the torch rolls from its forgotten nest in the sleeping bag. “Shit, Loki…” you hiss, fumbling a hand towards the traitorous torch. Cap'll be all over that like nettle burn. He snorts against your hair, and in a flash, the clunky object vanishes. And with it—the sniff of light. “Hush,” he soothes, making you clench around the root of his cock. For some fucking reason his voice is even more devastating when you can’t see his face. “You wouldn’t want me to be discovered, would you? Deep inside you; deep in the forest of a strange land.” A shiver wrenches down your spine and makes your hips jolt.

Loki groans, stifled by a well-timed kiss. His tongue nudges deeper, a contented sigh rumbling in his chest as you arch into him and his palm slides under your head. Slowly, slowly, he rolls upwards, tugging your clit with his pelvis. It’s inevitable, now.

Climax sparks and begins to blossom outwards, licking between your thighs, tightening every muscle beneath your waist with pure pleasure. It’s inevitable, you think—as he pants quietly in time with your quickening breaths, as he smothers the need to spur you on with loud, filthy commands. A short whine slips between his teeth, and his back muscles tense. “Cum with me, Loki,” you whisper, and his heartbeat hammers against your chest. Long curls pool in your collarbone as his lips find yours in the darkness and Loki of Asgard groans his orgasm deep into your throat.

It’s inevitable, you think again, as your hand slides down his damp back, over the curve of his unbearably hard ass, clutching the twisted sleeping bag in a fist. The two of your are right together, and the world makes sense. He kisses the side of your nose as your silent gasps of orgasm ebb; the tip of your cheekbone, the shell of your ear. Loki's nostrils puff quietly in the humid silence. A droplet from the tent fabric drips onto your leg as you unwind from his body and he shifts to the side. He slips from inside you, seed hot on your inner thigh, and you miss him immediately: a particular kind of emptiness. You wonder if he feels it, too.   “I should go,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t want to. Resistance strings through the syllables like dew on spiderweb. You wait, just in case there’s something else he wants to add to that statement. A confession of love, perhaps. But in the pitch black, the only thing that follows is the trail of a long finger down your cheek, and a brush of his thumb over your lips. And then, his breath hitches. “I…” he starts, and then the words are eaten by the darkness in which they find themselves.

“Go,” you whisper. He leans forward, catching your lips like he’ll never leave. But he does, leaving a gap in the tent flap so you can see the stars. The tent smells of him. “I love you,” you whisper into the pillow with a smile, imagining Loki doing the same four tents over. You’ll say it soon enough. And so will he. It’s inevitable.

Tags in comments❤️x

[stellasolaris]

I know who they are, but they don't care much about me. The King and Queen of Solaria, but Princess Stella brought up like a perfect stranger. 

[mocchii-writes]

could you do a thanos x reader fic (squid game), where the reader is dating thanos already but is apart of gi hun's group in the games and is really sweet and kind. so then when thanos approaches her the boys (especially dae ho and jung bae) get all protective ready to fight: only to be absolutely shocked when the reader reveals that's her boyfriend.

I hope nobody catch us (but I kind of hope they catch us)

Paring: Choi Su Bong (Thanos) x fem!reader Summary: Your boyfriend just wants to see you. Unfortunately, your friends aren't in the loop. Words: 750 Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death? lmk if there's something ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

A/n: pleaseeee send requests!! I have writer's block grr. Hope this is alright, anon! ♡

~🍡🍡

This place was terrifying. Obviously. Almost 100 people died. You're lucky, and you know that. Not just because you survived, but because you aren't alone. You met Su Bong, or as people call him, "Thanos" before the games, dating soon after. Neither of you had any idea the other was coming, but here you are. You noticed him easily; it's not like he's very inconspicuous. You didn't think he had seen you, and you were a little too busy at the moment to approach him.

See, the second reason you're so lucky is because of the people around you currently. You would like to call them your friends, but some seem a little friendlier than others. 456, or Gi Hun, seems to be the leader. To nobody's surprise, though, because he's apparently done this whole charade once before. After just barely scraping through Red Light, Green Light, you were approached during the team-making for game 2 by Dae Ho and thus migrated into this odd little family. They all seemed to like you, as you were very kind and lightened the group's mood.

The food didn't look the best, but you didn't have a lot of choices, so here you sat, listening to the light conversations. You had become a close-knit bunch after game 2, and you got along very well with Jung Bae and Dae Ho, joking around after brief introductions. You wanted to check in on Thanos after you saw him lose a fight before game 2, but your two groups seem to have some disputes, you thought it best to wait until you could briefly slip out of the group.

You hear the announcement of lights out soon, and some people in your group rise to clean up the litter around them from dinner. You join Jung Bae and laugh at something he says, walking over to dispose of the trash. You hear a voice behind you as Dae Ho's face unfamiliarly hardens.

"Hey, my flower, why didn't you tell me there was an angel right in this room?" Thanos calls to you. You smile and turn around, but Dae Ho's voice stops you from responding.

"Get out of here, she isn't interested." He calls. You can tell he isn't used to the confrontation, but he's soon backed up by Jung Bae, walking next to you.

"We don't want people like you around us, get lost." He demands, and you feel your confusion pouring out. Dae Ho nods and walks in front of you. Thanos is almost taken aback but is quickly calm again, shooting a response.

"Who do you think you are, bro?" He approaches Dae Ho, challenging him. "Stopping me from seeing my girl? You jealous? You don't stand a chance, man." Dae Ho laughs, but you can tell he's a little scared.

You can see Nam Su walking, at least you think that was his name. He promoted a club you had been to before and was fairly friendly. Unlike now, looking like he wants to murder something. You can also see Gi Hun approaching the situation with the rest of your group, and you finally snap out of your spectating haze, biting your lip.

"Guys, wait! wait!" You say, swerving around Dae Ho to intersect the confrontation, "Don't fight! This is just a misunderstanding." You flash your sweetest smile, and your friends look at you, confused. Dae Ho is still glaring at Thanos, but he's probably listening. "Thanos isn't creeping on me. We're dating."

There's a thick silence that ensues. Lots of glances between you and the boy behind you, until someone finally speaks.

"What...?" Jung Bae says, smiling. "You're dating this guy?" He laughs.

You smile, "That's not the point." You laugh as you look at Thanos, noticing his shoulders relaxing a bit more. "I'm sorry for not telling you guys sooner, I didn't think it would be very good news."

You press your lips together and then stifle a laugh as Dae Ho responds, "It's not. I just- never would have guessed." He smiles at you. You notice others in your group nodding as the tension dies down. You laugh and shrug, feeling a hand on your wrist and walking away with Thanos, mouthing a brief I'll be back! as you talk to Thanos, laughing.

"You could've warned me your friends were such bitches." He teases you, smiling.

"I'm sorry, baby. Don't call them that, at least in front of me." You hear him chuckle as your fingers interlace, him glancing back one more time before moving on.

Hope this works ♡ lmk if I misunderstood or there's any mistakes!

send requests!!

[muletia]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 — [𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏] ⊹₊⟡⋆

[tfp] yandere!soundwave x human!reader

summary: you were meant to be just a bargaining chip for the decepticons, someone who could be easily discarded. but soundwave has other plans for you. (consider this snippet as a base for further stories.)

cw: obsessed!soundwave, kidnapping, isolation, stockholm syndrome?? not really but reader does have a soft spot for him, reader's pov, soundwave is fucking terrifying, this is just an excuse to write about soundwave interacting with you lmao

word count: 750

[part 2]

The automatic doors hissed open, announcing the arrival of the owner of these small quarters. You lifted your head from the tablet, wanting to confirm that your routine remained unbroken — that you would survive one more day. Seeing the familiar silhouette, you exhaled in relief. The same titan as always had returned. You’d live to see tomorrow.

“Hi,” you greeted, well aware you’d never receive a verbal response. The titan was fiercely silent.

He nodded, and that was the end of your “conversation.”

Your interactions hadn’t always been like this. They weren’t always this warm. Going from trembling in fear at just the sight of him to saying “good morning” of your own free will had taken some time. Not that you had much choice in terms of social interactions, which the reptilian part of your brain still craved. You’d only seen other members of his species once, on the day of your abduction. Accepting that this was now your life, indefinitely, hadn’t been easy, but after many months, you’d adjusted. Humans were made to adapt to new conditions, and you were no exception. The will to live had won.

You returned to reading an e-book on your tablet (a reward for good behavior) but quickly paused, noticing the robot had stopped at the desk, right by the small corner arranged just for you. You looked up—he seemed to be looking straight at you. Even with the screen covering his face, you could feel his optics on you.

He was enormous, terrifying, and the lack of human-like facial features, which you’d noticed on others, only heightened the fear factor. He looked like a xenomorph. But your alien was real. And he wanted something from you.

“What’s up?” you asked, uncertainly.

He moved his hand, slowly, calculatedly, and pointed at the tablet as if he genuinely cared about what you were doing, as if he cared about your existence. By now, you understood perfectly what he meant, having gone through this countless times when he returned to you after a few, sometimes several, hours of absence. This was your little ritual, a remnant of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal.

“I didn’t manage to read much,” you sighed. He tilted his head slightly. It was almost cute. Almost. “I just can’t concentrate today. I’m having kind of a rough day.”

It would certainly be better if you were spending your time at home, with family and friends, rather than as the pet of your captor, but of course, you couldn’t say that to him. Not when you’d worked so hard for the privilege of a tablet and your own little human corner.

“But it’s nothing big,” you continued, fearing he’d decide it was his fault. “Humans sometimes have days like this. Tomorrow should be better.”

He shook his head.

Did he not believe you? That was a terrifying thought, one with unpleasant consequences, and it sparked a flash of fear. Fortunately, that spark faded as quickly as it had appeared when an image popped up on his face — a silly meme of a cat holding a rose with hearts around it. You stared at the absurd sight for a moment, trying— and failing —to understand where, why, or how. Finally, you gave up. Laughter escaped you for the first time in a very, very long time. You knew you shouldn’t be laughing; this creature should never be a source of comfort, shouldn’t make you feel better by doing the bare minimum of showing you a silly meme made by some grandma.

But, unfortunately, he succeeded. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so miserable, so pathetic and dull. You felt human.

“Okay, that was actually funny.”

The cat was replaced by a smiling face. His strange, flat hand moved toward you, but slowly, so as not to scare you. A slender finger stroked your head, gently, with silent affection, then slid down to your chin. It lingered there. The gesture was almost romantic as if performed by a lover rather than a giant, silent robot. The image on his face flickered, showing another picture—a heart.

There were so many things you didn’t know about this being. You didn’t know his motives or intentions, the reasons for his actions. You didn’t know what he was or what else he was capable of. But this intention was unmistakable.

Beneath his tenderness, beneath every gentle gesture, laid feelings for you. And that was more terrifying than unfamiliarity — because now you knew you’d never escape this place. You'd never escape him.

this is what he showed you btw:

[gloomwitchwrites]

Trick or Treat

John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): brief mention of alcohol, dad!Soap, married life, fluff, suggestive themes (at the end)

Word Count: 750

A/N: Requested by @glitterypirateduck for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Trick or Treat)

You and Johnny take the kids for their first American Halloween. Afterwards is for the adults.

ao3 // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist

"Are the kids ready?"

"Aye, love. Wee ones are ready."

"Costumes?"

"Yes, love."

"Makeup?"

Johnny slips his arms around, pulling you into him. He has a lazy, contented smile on his face. "We're all ready to go. Stop fussing."

Your lips part, ready to ask another round of questions, but Johnny silences you with a kiss that sends heat right down to your toes. You can’t help but return the kiss, draping your arms around his neck, leaning into the kiss.

"Mum! Da!"

Your children's voices float down the hall, their pounding feet accompanying them. Johnny retreats with a wink, grabbing his coat and yours off the bed, and offering yours to you as the children appear in the doorway.

Both of them are dressed as their characters. The choice was made last minute, as was the trip to the local Halloween store to procure everything necessary. They are eager. Excited. This is their first Halloween in the States and not Scotland.

"We're going to miss all the candy!" groans your son.

Johnny chuckles. "Goblins. The both of you," he teases, ushering the two of them out the bedroom door and into the living room.

You slide your coat on and follow them. The children grab their empty pillowcases, and Johnny herds the two of them toward the front door.

"What's that?" you ask, staring at the red wagon parked next to the coat rack.

"Survival," replies Johnny.

"For who? Us?"

Johnny grins and grabs the handle, the four of you exiting and heading into the neighborhood with all the other families.

From the wagon, he retrieves two thermoses. "Added something extra," he says as the children charge for the first house.

You open the lid and smell it. A warm, comforting aroma greets you. Taking a sip, you smile around the rim. There's an underlying burn.

"Naughty," you laugh.

Johnny flashes you his best smile.

As the children's pillowcases fill with candy, the burn of your drink becomes a warm tingle, leaving you light and a bit buzzed. Johnny keeps an eye on the children, monitoring their candy progress and touching up makeup instead of leaving you to do it all. You're able to enjoy yourself, and when the night becomes a bit colder, he wraps you up in a blanket.

"Show me," you say, and your children open up their pillowcases. They're full to the point of bursting. "Good haul."

Your son picks something out and starts to unwrap it.

"No. It's late. Bedtime." Johnny snatches it right out of the boy's hand before he can get it open.

"But Da!"

"You have school tomorrow. Costumes off. Shower. Brush your teeth. And then bed."

The children groan but they leave their pillowcases of candy on the kitchen counter, the two of them taking off to see who will get to the bathroom first. Johnny rinses out the thermoses and unpacks the wagon, taking it to the garage once it's empty. You start the dishwasher and hit the lights once the children are tucked in.

Both children crash the moment their heads hit the bed. Yawning, you head into the bedroom, removing your coat and getting ready for bed yourself. In the bathroom with your toothbrush in your mouth, you don't notice Johnny entering. You spit the minty toothpaste into the sink and glance up, only to jump in surprise.

"Johnny!"

He's wearing a mask that covers everything but his mouth. It's black. A skull face. Other than that, Johnny wears nothing else except black boxer briefs.

"You startled me," you laugh, rinsing the toothbrush and putting it back in its holder

He saunters forward, grabbing your hips, and pulling you close. "Looking for my own treat tonight."

"Are you?" you tease, offering your mouth.

Johnny leans in. The kiss is deep and demanding. His hands slide from your hips to the curve of your ass. He squeezes, and then descends further, slipping his hands under your nightdress to find his prize.

You gasp against his lips as his fingers part you, seeking your slickness.

"Will you go willingly? Or do I have to drag you?"

A little resistance is always fun.

"Is the door locked?" you ask.

"It is."

"Then no. I won't go willingly."

With an amused growl, Johnny's finger delves inside. You moan, head falling back slightly with pleasure. Johnny's lips skim the side of your neck. He nips. A tease. Then, a bite.

He inserts a second finger.

"Trick, then," murmurs Johnny. "Treat comes later."

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[jdfitzroy]

Writing Challenge | "Clockwork 1833"

Historical fiction. A writing challenge. Write a 750 word fragment as if taken from the middle of a bigger story or novel.

by JD FitzRoy Write a 750 word fragment as if taken from the middle of a bigger story or novel. Historical Fiction. ‘It is my pleasure.’ ‘Indeed, indeed. I must admit, I was surprised to find you so engaged. Especially for someone so… young,’ Charles said. Ada followed Charles up whispering stairs, into his study. Curtains drawn, the dark furnishings and thick drapes consumed the light.…

[glitchyrobo]

Ceres-class Missile Battleship

spaceship =>

(description & fiction under the break!)

Video Description

Several views of a large, long, and slightly bulky Terran warship in space. The ship has repeating triangle motifs in with various paneled textures throughout. Near the pointed front the nameplate of the ship is visible, reading 'CNS Temeraire'. The long front hull has a flat section on the top, covered in massive missile launch bays. Amidships, several armor plates, painted bright red with the Jovian Eagle in gold, protect the armored hab rings and a series of tubes. Aft, the radiators glow brightly as the engine burns hot. Embedded heat pipes run from the tip of the engine to the radiators

The first view is of the ship from above and in front, showing a dramatic angle. Several 'running lights' blink down the length as navigation lights flash

The second view is located to the side, looking forward, again showing the various lights

The third view is focused on the engine, showing it powering on to 100% thrust, then beyond. As it powers on the heat pipes glow in sequence

The fourth and final view repeats the engine power on sequence but from further, allowing the viewer to also see the coolant vents venting coolant

Excerpt from History of Pre-Domestication Terran Warships (3rd Revision), §685.8: Late Terran Accord & Pacification Program Era Battleships (Guided Projectile), Eltrin Yne, Forty-Seventh Bloom, xe/xem, Elly Yne, Twenty-Sixth Floret, et al.

Designed in 2521 CE (33 BT) by a consortium of Jovian shipbuilding corporations and first commissioned in 2526, the Ceres-class missile battleship was envisioned as a platform to launch massed missile strikes against enemy fleets while providing enhanced point defense and electronic warfare. At 750 meters in length and nearly 100 meters at its widest extent, this class represented one of the largest mass-produced spaceframes fielded by the Cosmic Navy.

Over the course of its service history, the class had numerous revisions. Most notably, the type-3 revision in 2539 (2521-CERES-III) which added coolant vents ahead of the hab rings, reducing their size in the process. The vents were positioned forward of the hab rings to expel hot coolant from over-driven point defense domes and electronic warfare equipment rather than the main engines, though they had a limited ability to expel engine coolant in extreme emergencies. These coolant vents essentially functioned as expendable liquid droplet radiators, which may have led to the development of more practical liquid radiators, had domestication been delayed. (See also §359, Speculation on Terran Shipcraft Development)

While there were no major engagements which featured a Ceres functioning in this intended role, classified TCN documents obtained after the fall of Terra stated that one of the primary goals of the class was to counter contemporary corporate navies, which largely consisted of small anti-piracy vessels, should a coalition of corporations ever come into direct conflict with the Accord.

However, the most significant hostile force that the Accord encountered prior to pacification were various pirate flotillas, which would generally consist of smaller, older, and less militarized vessels. While in a direct engagement a Ceres-class or other contemporary Accord capital ships would easily destroy such vessels, smaller ships were quite capable of outmaneuvering and escaping their would-be-predators.

At the start of the Terran Pacification program, there were 157 Ceres-class vessels active. After the signing of the treaty, only a handful of these ships refused armistice, as the amount of logistical support that the Ceres required to function effectively and the implausibility of that support without the Terran core sectors dissuaded overt feralism. Several dozen of the surviving vessels now serve as museum ships across Terran Protectorate space.

[fairsexynasty]

ˏ🔪ˋ°•*⁀➷･ DEEP BREATH

.｡🗡️*⋆⍋*🃏*｡ spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: the bau has a new foe: mr. scratch. he's been attacking those near and dear to the team, and now? he's in your home. but you have a morbid trick up your sleeve.

warnings: angst, hopeful ending, no fluff, anxiety, portrayal of an overdose and suicide, mentions of spencer's addiction, opioids, holding breath

a/n: yes this is inspired by pll AND doctor who what about it. also this might be part of a series if i don't finish the other one i was planning for october but never finished

word count: 750

She’d perfected this stunt when she was twelve years old.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, cautioning her to always stay a step ahead, to keep her wits sharp. Perhaps it was the universe’s grim way of keeping her alive. But the threat was real: Scratch was in her apartment. Her safe place, the home where her daughter slept, where they all ate, laughed, and breathed. Maybe he’d been looking for Spencer, but if he were thorough—and he always was—he’d find her here. Then, with whatever that gas was, he’d kill her, or worse: he’d twist her mind, make her believe Spencer was hurting her, drive her to the edge of reason, or haunt her with a vision of her late father.

Y/N’s gaze landed on the bathroom vanity, its soft light pooling across the floor. The faint glow leaked under the door, a telltale sign. Think, she urged herself, a silent chant. Think for Clem. Think for Spencer. Think for yourself.

Another look at the vanity showed the medicine cabinet hanging slightly open, left ajar when she’d reached for ibuprofen that morning. Tucked far back in the shadows was an old prescription bottle of hydrocodone, a remnant of a long-past injury she’d meant to discard. If she’d remembered, she would have tossed it long ago, kept it hidden from Spencer’s careful eyes. But there it sat, tucked away, waiting.

Act now.

With trembling fingers, she reached into the cabinet, pulling the bottle out slowly, careful not to make a sound. The cabinet stayed silent, no creaks to betray her. She twisted the cap, dumping the pills into her hand and scattering them out the cracked window above the sink, letting the wind carry them away. Then, without another second to think, she climbed into the bathtub, slumping back against the cold porcelain.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, a calculated, deliberate rhythm as Scratch approached. Her heart pounded against her ribs, but she kept her breaths shallow, her body limp, one hand resting over the edge of the tub, the empty bottle lying loose in her palm.

The bathroom door creaked open.

A low, satisfied chuckle drifted through the room, followed by silence as he took in the scene before him. She stilled, her lungs aching from the strain of barely drawing in air, forcing herself to go completely still, to become the very picture of lifelessness. She focused on the chill of the tub beneath her, on anything that kept her mind from the terror of moving too soon, of him realizing she was faking.

She felt him drawing closer, a menacing shadow towering above her. His breath, sharp and cold, brushed her face as he leaned in. And in that moment, her thoughts raced: grateful for the broken heater that kept the room cold, for every freezing second that helped her mask her pulse. Thoughts of Spencer flashed before her and Clem. Would Spencer be the one to come home and find her here, broken and empty because she’d failed the only thing she’d ever known how to do? Or worse, would he have to tell Clem?

Then, just as suddenly, the air shifted. Scratch’s footsteps receded, and he muttered, almost dismissively, “Lousy way out.”

The front door clicked shut.

Her whole body shuddered as she gasped, air rushing into her burning lungs. She climbed from the tub, her legs shaking as she fumbled to throw the empty bottle out the window, watching it disappear into the alley below. Only then did she reach for her phone, dialing Spencer’s number with hands that wouldn’t quite steady.

“Honey, hi!” he answered on the first ring, cheer in his voice.

“He was here,” she whispered, the words tumbling out. “Scratch. He was in here!”

“What? Where? Are you okay?” Spencer’s tone sharpened, and she could practically see him standing, ready to bolt out the door.

“I’m home. I—I got home early to check if they fixed the heater, and… he came in, maybe ten minutes ago, but he just left.” Her voice trembled, the relief and terror colliding.

“Shit.” He breathed out, voice lowering as he regained control. “We’re coming right now. How did he not find you?”

“I’ll tell you everything when you’re here. Can you—can you send someone to check on Clem?”

“Morgan’s already on his way to pick her up from school. She’ll be safe, I promise.”

The knot in her chest eased a little. “Okay. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too. Just hold on—we’ll be there soon.”

[fourmoony]

Just thinking about Sirius trusting reader enough to do his hair :,) or maybe she experiments with putting his hair in curlers/curling it. I could even imagine Sirius owning a Dyson airwrap to have the best blowouts 😭💀

Sirius would 100000% own the dyson air wrap!!! Thanks for requesting, babe!

cw: none

750 words, modern au

You're not sure where Sirius learned his money managing skills from (or if he even has any), but the pleased smile and child-like excitement over his brand new hair dryer is something you refuse to admonish. Though, you're sure even if you tried, you'd fail.

Your boyfriend bounces happily on the balls of his feet, hair sopping wet and plastered to his face. Water droplets seep into his grey shirt but Sirius doesn't seem to care. Not when he's too busy making bedroom eyes at the unopened box on the bathroom counter. He'd been so happy when John Lewis finally had the Dyson Air Wrap back in stock, had dragged you out of bed this morning to drop an easy five hundred quid on it. Your head had spun with the realisation of just how rich your boyfriend actually is.

He's not flashy with his money. Irresponsible, yes. But being there to witness a classic Sirius-Black-Irresponsible-Purchase had really solidified the knowledge that your boyfriend is filthy rich.

"Okay, I'll grab a stool and you set it up." He says, turning to make for the stool that sits under your dressing table.

"Wait, you want me to do it?" You yell after him.

Sirius makes noise everywhere he goes. He's loud and abrasive, jagged around the edges. He loves so loud that it only makes sense his entire personality is the same. There's thumps and grumbles as he bumps into things all the way along the hall, the tell tale sounds of the stool scraping along your freshly painted hallway. "Well who else would do it?" Sirius rounds the corner, flashes his teeth in a wide grin that he knows will make you fold.

"What makes you think I'm qualified?"

Sirius shrugs, "The fact that I'm one hundred percent not. You're good at everything, sweetness."

He knows flattery works like a charm, especially when he pairs it with his best flirty eyes. You sigh, reaching for the box and unravelling all of the corresponding pieces. It's high tech, incredibly high tech. Sirius fidgets on the stool as you watch a video on your phone, lips curled between your teeth in concentration.

It takes a while to get the hang of, and you're sure you'll get better in time. Sirius softens and relaxes as much as he ever allows himself to as your fingers work through his hair, as you brush and comb and dry it. He hums and sighs and even closes his eyes. It's peaceful and intimate and it allows you to come to a startling realisation that Sirius has never asked you to do his hair for him before.

He's not prissy about his hair. He'll let anyone touch it. He actually begs for people to play with his hair. But he's never outright asked you to fix it up for him, prefers to get it sitting perfect by himself because he believes it to be his best asset. You'd have to disagree with him on that. His eyes never fail to amaze you, nor his smile.

"All done." Your voice seems to pull him out of a daydream.

His eyes open and he smiles wide, turning in the stool in an instant until he can take your hands in his. "Bad news, sweetheart, you're going to have to do this every day." He informs you, standing until his hands can reach your hips.

He pulls you into him, a little roughly, but catches you with his own body, lips ducking down to press to your forehead. You resist the urge to tell him you'd be happy to do his hair every day, if only to feel the intimacy and pride of being the one person he trusts to style his hair.

"Such a travesty." You feign indifference, lips pressed to his collar bone where it peeks out of his shirt.

Sirius shivers at the contact. "Easy, sweetness. I know my hair is super hot and stuff, but we have dinner reservations with James and Remus. They'll get pissy if we cancel to have sex."

"Again." He adds after a second.

You scoff, pushing your boyfriend away whilst he barks with laughter. Heat creeps up your neck as you exit the bathroom, ignoring Sirius' shouts down the hallway that he could make an exception for a quickie.

"Thanks, baby!" He calls a moment later.

You can't fight the smile that toys at your lips as you pick out an outfit for dinner.