#//Might be that I caught something from that event I went to on Saturday

[yumichikah]

Exhausted peacock noises.

#ic for ooc #//I dunno why but I've been super exhausted for a few days now. #//Might be that I caught something from that event I went to on Saturday #//I feel tired constantly ugh. Today I haven't done much else than sleeps and drinking tea. Blehh. #//Hopefully you all are doing better than I am! Please take care of your health! <3

[girasollake]

Can you please write something for Mattheo Riddle with academic rivals and if we get caught I’m blaming you

Tyty <3

✧ mattheo riddle x fem!reader x academic rivals x "if we get caught I’m blaming you"✧

( this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

❁ i love all variations of enemies to lovers hihi, anyway this might have some mistakes which i’ll probably fix in the future

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

You stormed out of the class the moment it ended. You couldn’t stand his remarks and comments on every topic, often resulting in an argument where the teacher had to step in to end it. You huffed and went outside to get some fresh air, Pansy followed your steps and you both sat down on the cold pavement. She took a cigarette out of the box and placed it in between her soft lips. To her surprise, you looked at her and extended your hand flat so that she could share one with you. She saw you smoke like at best - three times, throughout all the years she’s known you. You hated that smell, because whenever you smelt it he was somewhere close.

‘You want-‘

‘Yes.’ You cut her off and she silently placed a cigarette in your hand. ‘Don’t question it.’ You muttered as put the thing between your lips as well.

‘I wont.’ She mumbled as she pulled out a lighter.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke, both the taste and the feeling of smoking made you cough a bit. Pansy kept her mouth shut, but her eyes never left your figure.

‘What?’ You turned to her, still clearly upset.

‘Nothing.’ She sighed and took a puff. “I just think you should pay less attention to him, he sees that this rivalry makes your blood boil and he uses that to get a rise out of you.’

You didn’t reply for a moment, thick smoke slowly escaping your lips.

‘But I can’t let him win.’

‘You have been fighting for the best grades since i can remember, why are you so obsessed about it anyway?’

‘I-.. I don’t know. I just dont want to give him the satisfaction of being better than me.’

She nodded slowly, ‘You comin’ to the party on tomorrow?’

You sighed, ‘Probably not. We have classes on Monday.’

‘And? You have the whole Sunday to study’ She replied. ‘Mattheo will be there, you both need to relax for one fucking night, right?’ She tilted her head and smirked.

‘I still won’t go.’ You replied and took another puff.

‘Ohh come on!’ Pansy whined and she grabbed your arm to shake it roughly. ‘Pleaseee… I dont remember the last time we went to a party together..’

You looked at her and sighed deeply while closing your eyes, ‘I’ll think about it.’

She chuckled, ‘Merlin, you are so easy to persuade.’

‘You want me to say no?’ You remarked and she raised her hands in defense, her lips in a thin line so that she wouldn’t say anything more.

During supper on Saturday the Slytherin party was everything anyone could talk about. The more things you heard about it the less you wanted to go, but the previous day you agreed to Pansy’s request, now regretting it fully. You moved your fork around your plate, sometimes taking a bite of the food but mostly playing with it. As soon as you could exit the Great Hall you hurried to your dorm. After what felt like four hours of looking through your closet, you finally found the most decent outfit for the party. It started at 9 p.m. but you arrived an hour and a half later. After all you said you’d come, not when. You spotted Pansy in the crowd easily, she was currently engaging in a possibly flirtatious conversation with Theo Nott. You liked him, unfortunately, because it meant wherever he was Mattheo fucking Riddle would be close by. This time wasn’t any different. You slowly squeezed your way through the crowd of drunk students and tapped Pansy on the shoulder after reaching her side.

‘Why are you so late?’

‘What do you mean? I thought the party started at 11?’ you replied sarcastically.

‘Yeah, sure you did.’ She jokingly rolled her eyes at you.

‘Hi Theo.’ You gave him a smile.

He gave you a nod and went back to slowly sipping his whiskey. A moment later you felt someone squeezing between you and Pansy to rest their arms on both your and her shoulders.

‘Hello ladies, can I get you anything?’ A chirpy voice asked.

You chuckled, ‘Hi Enzo, nice to see you too.’ You wanted to add you didn’t want anything but Pansy was quicker.

‘Yeah, we both want the strongest thing you have.’

‘Wha-‘ You tried to interfere.

‘Our friend here needs to take her busy mind off of things.’

And with that Enzo nodded in understanding and disappeared into the crowd with a smirk.

‘Pans, what the fuck?’ You raised your voice.

‘Relax, you need a night off.’

You scoffed.

‘If he is having fun then you should too.’ She replied and nodded towards something.

You turned around to see Mattheo on a couch, sloppily making out with some Ravenclaw girl.

‘I’m gonna puke.’ You turned to Pansy. ‘That is not my idea of fun.’

‘I’m not saying you have to hook up with anyone! All I want us to do today is to get completely plastered tonight!’ She pleaded. ‘Please?’

You wanted to reply but before you could Enzo had brought the drinks. Part of you knew this was gonna have consequences, but the other part of you was like fuck it. You sighed and with a smirk took the beverage from his hand, you listened to the second option.

The night was full of dancing and drinking, mostly the second one which led to you sitting in a circle at 1:45 am, playing truth or dare. You were laughing at Fred Weasley’s poor try to do a split when he suddenly gave up and drank his shot as punishment. Then the bottle landed on you.

“So, truth or dare?” He asked you with a cocky smirk.

“Dare.”

To be honest, you would have chosen truth if not the fact that you were already a bit drunk.

“I dare you to go in a closet for 7 minutes with Riddle.” He and George started sneering.

You locked eyes with Mattheo and without thinking replied.

“I’d rather take a shot than spend a second with him alone.”

He scoffed at you, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You picked up your glass and the liquid soon started burning your throat.

On Sunday morning you woke up in your bed, how you got there though - you had no idea. You slowly sat up and felt like your head was going to explode in any moment. Then you remembered why you don’t get drunk, but it was too late to change that. You spent the rest of the day in your bed, away from any noise that would make this pain worse. You tried opening some books to study, but with this hazy mind and eyes not focusing on any sentence you quickly gave up and threw them to the side. After all, not studying for once wouldn’t bite you in the ass, right?

Monday morning was much better, you did your routine and the pain was gone. You quickly hurried to class and sat down next to Pansy just before the clock struck 9:00.

Professor Binns entered the classroom and everyone expected another boring lesson, where he hopefully falls asleep. Instead, he cleared his throat and told everyone to only leave their quills and a piece of paper on their desks. The students started looking at eachother in confusion, Binns had never done any sort of test without announcing it before.

“Today, I want to see how much you lot remember from the last few classes, there will be three questions, answer them briefly. You’ll have 10 minutes.”

Your eyes widened so much you thought they would pop out from the eye sockets. You were screwed, not only you hated this subject because you couldn’t remember much from what Binns was saying but you also haven’t studied because of this stupid party.

Everyone started groaning and trying to bargain with the professor but he was persistent. You scribbled the questions quickly as he was saying each one of them and you realised you don’t know anything.

“Shit.” You whispered to yourself.

You saw Mattheo giggling across the room and writing on the paper. If only you could read his mind and copy the answers, but you couldn’t. You started writing anything that came to your mind, none of it was probably right, but maybe you’d get some points for trying. Unlike Berkshire and Nott who didn’t even write the questions down.

When the time was up all the papers flew directly into the professor’s hand. The rest of the class went by much quicker and as soon as it ended you stormed out of the class.

At the end of the day you found yourself in your dorm, studying whatever you learned that day in class. You picked up your History Of Magic book and started flipping through it in order to write down the correct answers to the questions which you luckily remembered. They turned out to be way complicated than you thought, you were officially screwed. Before reading them you at least had hope Binns would give you some points, now the hope has vanished.

Then, out of nowhere, a crazy idea popped into your mind. You turned to the side to see your roomate sleeping soundly and slowly got up from your bed and went over to the door. Holding your hand over the knob, unsure of your choice, you sighed deeply.

“Fuck it.” You whispered to yourself and exited the dorm.

This was not a good idea and you knew it. But it was better than being worse than Riddle. At least that’s what you were telling yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts Castle. At night it was even harder to find the correct classroom where the professor would’ve kept the tests.

It felt like you have missed the correct room at least 10 times already, this was too hard. You were about to give up when you heard shuffling in the classroom a few metres away from where you stood. The door was slightly agape and there was a soft blue light coming out, someone was surely using lumos. You took a few small steps and remained as quiet as possible, peeking your head through the door you saw someone going through the desk drawers as quietly as they could. The person stood up and when your eyes landed on those messy curls, you instantly recognised him.

“Riddle?” You whispered as you entered the room. “The hell are you doing here?”

He looked up in horror, but immediately relaxed his stance when he saw it was you.

“I could ask you the same question.” He placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Looks like we had the same idea. Didn’t think you were one to break the rules, though.”

“What do you mean?” You scoffed.

“You came here to replace your test with the correct answers, didn’t you?” He smirked at you and pointed to the piece of paper you were holding.

“Why are you here?” You avoided his question.

“For the exact same reason, love.” He waved his paper sheet.

“Don’t call me that.” You replied and came over to him. “I saw you giggling in class, surely you must’ve known the answers.”

He shrugged his arms, “I was giggling because I knew I was screwed.”

You rolled your eyes at him and took a look around the class.

“Have you found them, then?”

“I don’t think they are here.” He nodded towards the desk.

You went over to the cabinet on your right and opened the shelfs, finding your tests in the lowest one.

“You are so daft, Riddle.” You gave him a smirk and waved the papers in front of his face.

He scoffed at you and took them from your hand. He started looking for your names and you both successfully replaced your tests.

“I wanted to be better than you and now we are gonna be even.” You sighed.

“I’m always better than you, though.” He replied.

“No you are not.” You hissed.

“Mhm.”

“I’m going back to my dorm. I can’t stand another second with you.” You huffed and started walking away.

Mattheo didn’t respond, instead he smirked to himself, put the tests back in the drawer and started silently following after you.

“Fuck off Riddle.” You whisper-yelled at him when he caught up to you.

“Why do you want to be better than me so much?”

“Just because.”

You didn’t even know why, you just knew you couldn’t be worse than him. This unspoken rivalry had been going on for far too long and you never understood why it mattered to you so much. You stopped walking and looked up at him, even though it was dark you could see his soft features. You opened your mouth to say something when a soft meow echoed through the corridor. Mattheo instantly grabbed your hand and pulled you into the nearest room, which happened to be a small closet full of different jars containing various herbs. You felt his warm breath on your face.

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” You whispered.

“Can you shut up for one second?” He whispered back.

“I’m just-“ He stopped you by putting his hand over your mouth.

You heard someone walking next to the door behind which you were hiding. You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, but feeling Mattheo’s warm hand on your face made you even more nervous. You slowly reached up and took his hand away. Your eyes were flickering between the door and each other’s faces. The light from a lamp Filch was carrying shined through the bottom of the door. It lit up the room to the point that you saw your enemy almost clearly. He looked… pretty. Saying you didn’t find him attractive would be a complete lie. You realised how close you were to each other, his body heat making you get goosebumps. This is the closest you had ever been and for the first time you didn’t find him annoying. His eyes were glued to the bottom of the door, waiting for Filch to go past the room. Slowly the light started fading and so did his features you were studying, like the scar on his nose you never noticed. You wondered where it was from.

“I think he’s gone.” He whispered which got you out of the trance.

“Hm?”

“Filch.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” You whispered and turned your attention to the door.

Mattheo kept his eyes on you, little did you know he also felt nervous with being this close to you. He noticed you were still holding his hand, you didn’t let him go after taking it off of your mouth. He changed the position of your hands, interlocking your fingers. It took you by surprise, but you didn’t show any reaction, visibly. He led you through the corridors as you slowly made your ways to your dorms. You were about to let go of his hand and head off to your room when he tightened the grip.

“Guess you fulfilled the dare after all.” He beamed.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“The night of the party you said you’d not spend a second with me and now you’ve spent much more than that.” He smirked.

“Wow, you are so full of yourself.” You let out a breathy laugh and a soft smile grew on your face. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” He reciprocated the smile.

You both looked down at your intertwined hands and slowly let go, your hand going back to hanging at your side.

“I still hate you, though.” You said with a smirk and started slowly walking away.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He replied with the same sentence he did the night of the party and smirked at you as well.

“Night, Riddle.”

“Night, love.” He replied and you rolled your eyes at him, but smirked to yourself after you were out of his sight.

The next morning History of Magic was your last class, which meant Binns had probably already graded your tests. He shook his head and said he is disappointed, as only two students got a good grade. You and Mattheo looked at each other and he sent you a wink.

“Stupid bastard.” You whispered to yourself, hiding your smirk and trying to ignore the feeling in your stomach.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

© girasollake 2023

i feel like this is bad .. sorry for the wait guys i am TRYING ..

#🤍 - girasollake writing event ☾ ⋆* #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #mattheo riddle angst #enemies to lovers #x reader #imagine

[alwayschasingrainbows]

My new headcanon: Emily Starr and Teddy Kent's soulmate connection started even before they met. They believed that they saw each other for the first time in Sunday school; but neither of them was present there at this time. If they saw each other, it was only a dream or a vision.

Now, here is where this idea came from (all quotes are from the book - Emily of New Moon by L. M. Montgomery):

"Emily was secretly not averse. She had seen Teddy Kent but once, at Sunday School the day before he was taken seriously ill, and she had liked his looks. It had seemed that he liked hers, too, for she caught him staring shyly at her over the intervening pews several times."

But, it wouldn't be possible. From Emily of New Moon we know that Emily had been sent to the school almost immediately after moving into New Moon:

"THAT first Saturday and Sunday at New Moon always stood out in Emily’s memory as a very wonderful time [...] It had been decided in family conclave that Emily was not to go to church that day.

“She has nothing suitable to wear,” said Aunt Elizabeth. “By next Sunday we will have her white dress ready.”

One can argue that Sunday School does not equal mass and of course, that's right. So, it is not impossible (although, due to the lack of the proper clothing, very un-Murray-like) that Emily might have been sent to the Sunday school, while not attending the church service.

But... firstly, if that was the case, Montgomery would have described this Sunday event. It would have been Emily's first meeting with other Blair Water's children - even if they hadn't been unpleasant, there would be a lot of staring at ill-dressed little girl from New Moon. These glares would have probably pierced Emily's sensitive soul and make her a lot less excited over the perspect of attending a regular school.

Secondly, most children wore their best clothes for both church and Sunday school.

Thirdly, Aunt Elizabeth hadn't said a word about attending Sunday School, when she decided Emily wouldn't go to the church:

"No, you are not going to church to-day. You can wear the black dress to school to-morrow. We can cover it up with an apron.”

It seems that the only reason Aunt Elizabeth allowed Emily to wear her black, cheap dress to school was because it would have been completely covered by the apron - yet Emily hadn't seen that hideous item of clothing until Monday. So, I believe it's quite safe to assume she didn't attend either school, either church service this first Sunday.

Emily's first day of school takes place right after Sunday: "Aunt Elizabeth drove Emily to school the next morning."

There, again, it is Rhoda Stuart, who is a reason I believe Teddy couldn't have attended Sunday school as well. Rhoda tries to befriend Emily on that first day and tells her:

“Oh, everybody in our class has a beau. Mine is Teddy Kent. [...] Teddy wasn’t in school to-day—he’s been sick all June."

It is, of course, possible that Teddy might have attended the school (and Sunday school, for that matter), while sick. It might have been something quite insignificant at first; a cough, runny nose, other symptoms of cold. His illness might have gotten more serious only the Monday of Emily's first day of school.

But still, Rhoda's use of words suggests something else: that Teddy was unable to attend either school, either church, for the last few days (or weeks) of June.

Besides, Emily would have probably noticed that Teddy had looked a little under the weather (if Rhoda described him as being "sick" for at least the last few days), yet, when she remembers seeing him for the first time, he seems perfectly healthy and allert:

"He was very handsome, Emily decided. She liked his thick, dark-brown hair and his black-browed blue eyes, and for the first time it occurred to her that it might be rather nice to have a boy playmate, too."

Of course, one can argue that both Teddy and Emily went to Sunday school that day; she, in her cheap black dress, somehow not attracting attention to herself; he, with his runny nose or a fever, somehow still able to notice the new girl and smile shyly at her.

Emily might have thought Teddy was very handsome, even if he had looked a bit sickly; he might have noticed her even despite his illness.

But I like the idea of Teddy and Emily sharing their uncanny bond even before meeting each other. He might have dreamt of seeing her in the church, while he was laying feverish in a bed; she might have had a vision of attending the Sunday school while, in fact, she never went there, but spent her Sunday in Cousin Jimmy's company.

Neither of them ever asked others about it; they both believed that it had really happened.

In a way, it would have been another "I knew I loved you before I met you" moment. It might have also explained why, despite spending a decade away from each other, despite not talking or writing for years, their bond was still so strong.

Not to mention, there were other examples of their uncanny connection: Teddy hearing Emily's voice calling to him that night she was locked in a church, the Flavian, Emily's dreams of Teddy (not being able to find him, while chasing after his signal; the dream of Teddy of old times, just before learning about his engagement to Ilse).

Most probably: it was just LMM's small mistake... which I turned into a headcanon. I am aware of this. Well, what can I say.

#lm montgomery #emily of new moon #teddy kent #my headcanon #rereading emily of new moon as an adult

[14dyh]

hii can you write hange x reader where hange and r are best friends who are obsessed w spider man and they confess to each other after watching one of the movies on theaters?

Confession | H.Z.

Pairing: Hange Zoë x reader (2nd POV) Summary: You and your best friend, Hange, went to the cinema together to watch a Spider-Man movie. Is there a love confession waiting after? Word count: 1.1k A/N: not used to writing modern au and in 2nd pov but this ask hyped me up so thanksss anon :D

The hectic exam week stole the time you should be spending with your best friend. You still share the smallest yet sweetest forms of affection despite the rough week, sometimes leaning on each other's shoulder after lectures when you're both sleepy or walking each other home.

This semester has kept both of you busy. Hange is always up to something so you never question it. They always find time to plan cool devices and build them in their spare time.

Their ideas fascinate you to no end but you longed for the times when you both read Spider-Man comic books on the weekends, trading your copies with each other. You always look forward to the sticky notes pasted on their favorite pages. Most of them are addressed to you since you're the only one they trade these comic books with. This act exists as a special bond between the both of you.

On Saturday movie nights, you rewatch the Spider-Man movies and challenge each other by competing who can find the most references. It's always fun to be with someone who understands your interests and loves them with you.

You: Hey Hans, wanna go to the cinema after exams??

You texted them that morning. You didn't have to specify the movie because they already know what you're referring to.

Hange: Totally :D

You smiled to yourself. Going to the movies together to watch the latest Spiderman movie might be the best thing after a barrage of schoolwork.

That day, you both wore the matching Spider-Man shirts you bought at a convention once.

"You must have read my mind," they teased after you got to your seats. The movie will start in five minutes.

"I could accuse you of the same thing too," you chuckled, amused by how much your actions seemed to sync despite the minimal planning this event underwent. Being at the cinema with your best friend rekindled the spark this stressful week dimmed within you.

When the movie started, your eyes were glued on the screen, sometimes squealing out of excitement with Hange. You didn't even notice the way you clung to their arm or the way you held their hand throughout the movie. Hange noted how lovely your bright, smiling eyes looked whenever you were happy. It was a sight their eyes always yearned to see.

Your eyes caught their gaze and took time to observe their face, partly illuminated by the movie screen. Their eyes showed a hint of tiredness, but most importantly, enthusiasm... an excitement you couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was their newest project. You scooted closer and asked them what they were currently up to.

"New project, hm? By the looks of it, you seemed to be passionate about it. Not that it's new to me, of course," you smiled, handing them the popcorn bucket. Hange beamed in response, the familiar curl of their lips when they were trying to contain their excitement.

"Heh, you know me very well," they chuckled.

Hange didn't let out too much information as their special way to keep the both of you excited for something new to talk about. Something else entirely lingered on your mind though. A simple message or a wave from them would remind you of Hange, and your desire to tell them how you truly felt. There was always a love letter tucked in your pocket, sometimes you even plan to slip it in one of the comic books you share. There was never a perfect time.

You leaned back in your seat, a portion of you rested on their shoulder as the movie credits rolled.

Later after the movie, both of you went to the ice cream parlor, sitting across each other in the seat usually reserved for lovers. It was an unwritten rule among the regulars but you didn't protest as Hange ushered you there with a smile.

"I have something for you," Hange said, leaning closer across from you, their hand outstretched. "Can I have your hand?"

Something inside you stirred, excitement or nervousness interweaving. You gave your hand to them and waited. They brought something out of their jacket, a familiar material they carefully strapped to your wrist.

"I remember we've always wanted a Spider-Man web shooter like in the films," they smiled as they talked, securing the device around you. "But why not make a version of our own, right? I made this one for you."

You couldn't help but stare at the smile in their eyes, your own heart leaping with joy as you observed how intricately this web shooter is made— made by someone who truly knows you.

You almost squealed with excitement, eager to see how it works. You wanted to hug Hange so tightly as you tried to contain your excitement. But most of all, you can't wait for Hange to tell you how they made this, knowing this would make them incredibly happy. They told you it was their design, even the mechanism that makes it work. You didn't even notice how much you were squeezing their hand between yours.

So this is what they've been tending to the whole week?

"Please show me how it works!" you gushed. Hange then excitedly explained its mechanisms. You can activate it the same way in the movies.

"The web inside is magnetic, though," Hange explained. "I want you to shoot it at me first."

Hange requested with a grin, the same child-like enthusiasm sparkled in their eyes. A faint blush appeared on your cheeks, it was a simple request but it was enough to increase your affection towards them.

You obliged with their request. You positioned your hand and aimed. The web shot out of the cartridge, immediately attaching itself to the left breast pocket of their jacket to which they smirked.

"Ooh, seems like you caught my heart," Hange smiled, you couldn't help but giggle at how smoothly that went on your ears. They fished out a custom magnetic device from their jacket where the web landed.

"My, is this a love confession, Hange?" you laughed, the heat within your cheek betraying you. The love letter within your pocket nudging to be brought out.

"Let's just say that I want to be able to love more things with you," Hange said in a low, sincere voice. "That is, if you will allow me..."

"Well... How could I say no to my favorite dork?" You chuckled, taking their hands again.

From then on, the lovers' seat near the cinema was occupied, especially when a Spider-Man movie was showing in the theaters.

#hange zoë #hange zoe #hanji zoë #hanji #hanji zoe #hange snk #hange x y/n #hange x reader #hange x you #hange zoe x reader #hange zoe x you #hange zoe x y/n #hange aot #aot x you #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk fanfiction #snk #14dyh-writes

[aquadestinyswriting]

Storyteller Saturday

It's been a few weeks, and I apologise, but I'm back again. Onto this week's question

Does your main OC have a family still in their lives? If they do, what is that relationship like? If not, what happened?

As usual, anyone is free to answer, but tags are below

Tagging: @druidx, @asher-orion-writes, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds

My own answer is below the cut to save peoples' dashes.

Selene: she has been estranged from her family for a very long time even before the events that led to her going off adventuring. She went off with Yastromo to apprentice as a wizard at the age of 10 years old, and attempted to stay in contact for the first year or two through letters. Things were alright for the first few months, but then she stopped getting letters back for a few months before finally getting on on her 12th birthday asking her not to contact them again.

There was no reason given, though Selene suspects it might have had something to do with the activities of some necromancer or other in the area around where her family lived. Whether or not her family had been caught up in anything to do with it, she'll never know, but it's likely that at least one member of the family was killed, leading to the initial lack of communication, then the request to cut off contact.

Meredith: Amazingly, Merri's entire family survived the absolute BS that was thrown at Fangthane throughout the entire Destiny's New Servants campaign. The family is not without their losses, Merri lost two older brothers during the Demon War and her uncle, Snorri, was very lucky to have lived to be allowed to come back to the mountain once the war was over.

Throughout the latter half of the Destiny's New Servants campaign, Meredith expended a lot of time and energy to make sure she didn't lose anyone else to the renewed BS that was thrown at Fangthane, and made sure her family were among the first to leave the mountain at the first sign of the civil war kicking off. She actually requisitioned a group of about three Moradhir paladins and two clerics she trusted to accompany them to Vynheim because she knew that going with them would just put them in more danger and elected to stay behind for as long as possible to try and sort things out.

#storyteller saturday #writeblr community #writeblr open asks #sts #titan fighting fantasy #selene frigidwake #meredith gruksdottir

[maybebabyplease]

editing tips

ok i’m making this list because i’ve seen a lot of posts lately about how fanfiction doesn’t have to be “good”, and while i believe that’s true to an extent, i don’t think it captures the whole picture. personally, i believe that anything worth doing is worth doing well, and by well i mean to the best of my current abilities, whether other people think it’s “good” or not. i also know that a lot of us use fanfiction as a sort of practice session, and if you’re practicing writing, you might as well be practicing editing as well. this is not me saying that anything has to be perfect, or that beginners should shy away from this space. i just happen to be passionate about editing, a thing i know a lot of people hate, and i would like to take this opportunity to share that passion!

anyway, that’s me off my soapbox or whatever. here are some tips i like to use when i edit! take them, leave them, etc. 

1. look for moments where you can put in specifics. people find specific details relatable, even if you think they won’t. this is why taylor swift is so popular! her lyrics often use moments that are super specific to an experience, but many of us end up finding them relatable, either because we’ve had a similar specific experience or just felt similar emotions. specificity gets at the root of the emotion behind the story. 

2. the obvious “show don’t tell”. i feel like we’ve all heard this a million times. i still fuck it up and have to go back and look for it. even after a round or two of editing i still find “tells” i missed before. it’s hard! but it’s also really easy to fix once you’ve found it! see: point 1 about specifics.

3. sentence/word variation. a large part of reading is looking at the way the words physically look on the page. a bunch of repeated words, only using long/short sentences, too much dialogue in a row without any description, etc. all look a certain way on the page, and it’s not as attractive as it could be. i always paste my work into ao3 to preview and check if it looks nice on the screen.

4. plot v story -- think about the story of it all. this is one i fuck up too. don’t tell me “they always ate dinner together on saturdays and then they went to the horse races on sunday mornings and then they went to the park” give me the scenes! give me one particular saturday dinner where they ate the best spaghetti ever and the time they lost a bunch of money at the horse races and a day in the park where they argued about getting a dog. don’t just give me the sequence of events, give me the story – the settings, the characters, the ambiance, the themes, etc. we’re all just here for stories. see: point 2 about show and tell.

5. change the font before you re-read. this seems silly, but in my experience it’s really helpful for the piece to look different in some way. then you’re more likely to catch things you might not have caught before. i like an ugly font like comic sans or something, but you do you.

6. edit the piece as a whole. look, this is going to be controversial, bc a lot of people like to do the chapter-by-chapter thing. that is very cool for them and i am glad it works! it does not work for me, which is why you cannot find any long works (yet) on my ao3 page. gotta finish to edit to post. the pros to this: you can move scenes around, you can change plot points, you can flip the whole thing and tell your story backwards, you can cut an entire character, etc etc etc. the cons to this: you have to wait to post, which might lower your motivation to finish. ymmv with this tip, but i would suggest trying it on at least one long piece! you might like it!

7. read it til it makes you want to puke, and then read it again. when you hate every word, put it in the drawer for about 48 hours. take it back out and it should look a lot better. time heals all wounds or whatever.

ok i’ll leave it there for now (even though i could go on for years about this). editing can be so much more than just checking for grammar and spelling mistakes. you can have fun with it! the writing process is fun! 

also happy to hear anyone else’s favorite editing tips, as i am always looking to improve! this is a favorite topic of mine so i would be thrilled to discuss :)

#writing advice #editing tips #the writing process #em writes #if you're like is she qualified to give this advice? #the answer is no but also yes #obsession can take you a long way when it comes to learning #highly recommend taking an editing class as well #if you're really interested in learning more about it

[jimblejamblewritings]

little situation | part 5.

Summary: For years, HYDRA had been trying to use the samples of Steve’s DNA to make another super-soldier. They finally succeed and when S.H.I.E.L.D. breaks her out, Cap is forced to come face to face with his kid and figure out parenting on an Avengers’ lifestyle.

Warnings: maybe potential childhood trauma but nothing really

Pairing: Steve Rogers x blackdaughter!reader, avengers x child!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist) 

A series of events involving Sarah and Steve leading up to Winter Soldier:

“Sarah, come on we’re about to go,” Steve called towards the back of the store from where he was at the checkout counter.

He had taken the Saturday off to take you to the mall— something he read was a good bonding activity. You still were afraid of getting lots of things but Steve thought maybe he could at least see what caught your eye and maybe sneak them into the house slowly but surely. He kept the brim of his baseball cap low to avoid anyone that might recognize him, trying to only focus on you for the day. As well as keep your identity hidden as best as he could. Who knows what would happen if enemies knew Cap had a kid.

Before you could go to him, a couple approached you. The man watched over his shoulder for Steve while the woman got a bit closer.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“Yes?”

You took a step towards the rack and looked over to where Steve was paying, the woman following your line of sight.

“Do you know that man? Don’t be afraid, you can trust us.”

“That’s my dad.”

“We can get you help, you don’t have to lie. He won’t hurt you anymore.”

“He’s my dad,” you said with nervousness in your voice. You wanted the people to go away.  

Steve was over before you could even blink. “Is there a problem here?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you leave with that child.”

“With my child?”

“Your child? We can clearly see—”

“Yes. My child. Not that it matters but her mother is black.”

“May we see a picture?”

“You’re kidding…” Steve was attempting to keep his composure.

“We want to make sure you’re not kidnapping a child! If we don’t know she’s safe, she’s not leaving with you sir!”

Steve looked down when he heard your breathing get shallow. He immediately stopped his argument with the couple that had attracted more people concerned that a very large white man was seen with a child far from his skin complexion. He once again dropped to below you and turned you to face him. Steve turned off the hearing aids to try and help you find calm in the silence. He was speaking while signing but more for the other patrons’ benefit than yours.

“Hey, Sarah. Sarah. Look at me. You’re fine, they were just concerned. You’re fine. I’m not leaving you, okay? Breathe in. Okay, now out. Again.”

They’re going to take you away. They take everyone away.

Steve was in panic mode now. You weren’t in the same reality as everyone else, thinking this whole thing had been some cruel HYDRA set up. You were positive that in any minute guards would come drag you away and Steve would be killed in front of you or even worse be wearing a sick smile as he watched them haul you back to your cell.

“No, no. Sarah, no one’s taking me away. I’m right here. You won’t lose me. Sarah. I know they took your mom but we aren’t with those bad people. Right?… That means they won’t take me away either. Okay, so I’m right here.”

Steve waited as you tried to calm down.

“I hope her panic attack was proof enough she’s mine.”

“We’re sorry, but you have to understand why everyone was concerned. We just wanted to know, you two have a nice day.”

The customers scattered as if they were never there and went back to their shopping. Steve scoffed at the audacity they all had to act as if interrogating a child to tears was normal. He only thought about the problems from being a single dad and younger than he should be to take care of a twelve year old. He stupidly hadn’t accounted for the racial aspect and that was something he had to now take into consideration. This was your daily and he was finally witnessing it. Another thing he had to learn.

After your breathing slowed down, you reached up and turned the hearing aids back on.

“You promise, they won’t take you away?”

“Promise, Babydoll.”

Steve watched you sigh like you didn’t believe him. Because you didn’t. Lots of caretakers had promised you they wouldn’t get taken away or leave. But the barrel of a guard’s gun can make people do anything. And leaving you behind was easily one of those things.

~~

Steve knocked frantically on his neighbor’s door. Nat hadn’t picked up the phone and he hoped the neighbor would answer. She finally did and Steve started rambling.

“There’s blood and she’s cramping and—”

“She’s started her period. One second.”

Steve gladly showed the woman into the apartment where she helped you while he threw the sheets and bloody underwear in the washing machine. He thanked her once again now that you were out of the bathroom, still cramping but less so, and now on the couch. His face nearly paled when the blonde turned to him before leaving.

“She might want to start using tampons at some poi—”

“Bridge we’ll cross when we get there.”

~~

“Captain Rogers?”

Steve looked up from his desk to see you and your tutor at his office door.

“Sarah forgot her hearing aids, again. We’ll just have to call this session off.”

“Thank you, anyway.”

You walked into his office and sat down at the chair. Steve waited for the tutor to leave before looking at you.

You left them at home again. On purpose.

I don’t like her.

What’s wrong with your tutor?

I don’t like her.

Can you tell me what’s the problem?

I don’t like her.

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Your old tutor got a permanent teaching job two weeks ago and they had found you a new one. Only you’ve only had one lesson with this new teacher. He looked at you again and saw you scratch at your left ear. Another tell. It had been five months since you’d been living with Steve, he was slowly learning your tells. Including scratching at your left ear when you felt like you wanted to tell him something but couldn’t get it out for whatever reason. Steve knocked on the desk so you would look back at him.

Does your tutor make you uncomfortable?

Scared.

Scared?

She looks like my nurse.

We’ll find you a new one.

Steve didn’t need you to say more. You only spoke in fragments about HYDRA and every time you did, it gave him a better picture of what happened. This wasn’t the first time you had mentioned a nurse. He took out a pen and jotted down a note on his memo pad to find you a new tutor.

~~

You waited anxiously at your laptop for Steve’s face to appear. He was supposed to be gone for three days but now it was five and he hadn’t called yet. You didn’t eat much dinner, even with Clint and Laura’s prodding or reassurance. Fiddling with the alpaca doll, you almost fell asleep when the call appeared. You accepted it immediately.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, Sarah. We were in a zone where we couldn’t.”

“When do you come home?”

“Three more days, maybe four.”

“Maybe four?” your voice rose two octaves.

Steve cringed. You had separation issues, he learned that the last time a mission took longer than he had originally told you it would take. You were used to your handlers, tutors, guards, anyone you grew attached to being killed randomly. And when someone didn’t come back when they said they would, you started to assume the worst. The last time you trusted your favorite watcher, he was suddenly gone and not a single guard would tell you what happened. You didn’t need to talk to Steve for long, just see his face and be reassured that he was coming back.

“I’m in a place now where I can call you every night. Okay, Babydoll?”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Steve’s mission ended in two days so he booked a flight to Clint’s farm to surprise you. He heard you laughing with Clint’s kids as he approached the door. Clint walked in first announcing a surprise that made you turn. Relief washed over your face when you saw Steve’s imposing figure in the doorway. You ran over and hugged him to confirm he was actually there.

We have a surprise for you, you signed when you pulled away.

For me?

Name sign. S-T-E-V-E. Steve.

You showed him the name sign you and Clint came up with for him. The letter ‘S’ but you tapped it twice to the middle of your chest where the star on his uniform was located. Steve was touched, he kind of didn’t expect one. Especially since you very comfortably just signed the word ‘dad’ when addressing him. He had learned yours which, now that he thought about it, was very similar to his. It was the letters ‘S’ and ‘E’ in quick succession near the middle of your chest.

Thank you, doll.

Whenever he was signing, Steve usually omitted the baby part of your Babydoll nickname— going only with the single sign for the word ‘doll’.

~~

Why do they have the section labeled ‘Ethnic Hair’ behind glass doors? That was what Steve thought as you two finally found the hair care aisle of the general merchandise store. He waited for an employee to come by before finally giving up and going to search for one. He found a woman with shorter hair like you.

“I don’t know where to start,” he admitted.

The woman kindly placed her favorite products in the basket.

“If those don’t work, try another line until you find what works for you. And while it might work for her shorter curls now, it could be the wrong product once the hair gets longer. Honestly most products you can probably finesse if you’re willing to try that hard.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh and you’ll want those.” She pointed to the large row of bonnets and headscarves.

“Thank you again and um, is there a reason these are behind glass and not the Pantene stuff?”

“They think we steal,” the woman said with some spite while holding up a hand before pointing somewhere.

Steve looked over to see you, who had left the aisle to look at trinkets across the way. He saw what the woman was pointing to. There was a non-black employee watching you intently while acting as if they were folding the clothes in that section.

~~

They never let you watch Disney movies. Except for Snow White, played on repeat with subliminal messages. Steve caught that when he saw you having a Disney marathon on the living room TV he literally just bought. He wouldn’t say anything but if he had to hear ‘Friends on the Other Side’ one more time or hear the neighbors’ dog bark when ‘Let It Go’ played for the fifth time in a row, he would punch his head through a wall.

You finally switched to a new movie that hadn’t been played at all since the marathon started, Brother Bear. This was by far Steve’s favorite movie until they got to the song and you rewinded  it… four times.

~~

Steve should’ve known that Nat knew about Clint’s farm sooner. But he didn’t put the pieces together until you both saw her in the kitchen with Laura prepping for Thanksgiving dinner. The four adults as they cooked— Steve in charge of pumpkin pie— listened to you begin to lecture about Thanksgiving and the conflict in celebrating said holiday.

“Steve, stop letting her watch university lectures.”

Nat set down the mostly empty bowl that once held the brown sugar pie filling for you and Clint’s kids to eat the leftover. You guys didn’t even bother getting spoons but just stuck your fingers in the remnants of the bowl and licked them clean.

“Well you and I are in the clear,” Nat continued when you looked at her confused. “I’m Russian, you’re half black. We didn’t participate.”

“Really?” Steve and Clint asked at the same time, making you laugh.

Steve grabbed the bowl before you guys could finish it, not wanting you to ruin your appetites.

“Tell you what. We finish Thanksgiving dinner and talk about what we’re thankful for and then we find a bunch of Native American organizations to donate to. That sound good, kid?”

Steve watched your face and the next statement you made had the four adults doubled over in laughter in the middle of the kitchen while you, Cooper, and Lila looked at each other in confusion.

“Captain America celebrates Thanksgiving with reparations.”

The dinner looked like it was straight from a magazine or one of those cooking channel shows. The large dishes were passed around and everyone took a bit of each dish with the exception of the pies cooking on low in the oven. You guys started to say what you were thankful for.

“I’m thankful that we have a cool Aunty Nat,” Lila said. “Plus Sarah and Uncle Steve.”

You and Steve both looked in surprise. Laura grabbed both of your hands and offered a smile. The two of you didn’t realize that they had considered you family. It made you both feel warm inside— Steve more than you because you still felt like this was some elaborate HYDRA scheme to break you once and for all. It was joyful until it wasn’t and Lila who was sitting across from you was the first to notice when she tapped Clint on the arm and pointed to you. You had reached up and turned off your hearing aids and were now staring at your plate.

“Steve.” Clint nodded his head towards you.

Steve didn’t even have to knock on the table because you looked up when you saw him push your plate away so he would have space to knock. You turned the aids back on and flopped your head onto his arm, refusing to move it once the tears started. After lots of prodding and cooing, you finally looked up at him and then looked out the window. Everyone’s eyes followed but they saw nothing.

“Sarah? What’s the problem, Babydoll?”

“They killed her today,” you whispered. “Right after we ate dinner… I don’t want them to kill you too.”

The adults exchanged looks as Steve rubbed circles on your back. Dinner ended pretty quickly after that and, for you, dessert wasn’t much better. Laura brought out the duvet from Steve’s guest room and handed it to him as the two of you sat on the couch.

“Thank you, Laura.”

“No problem, it’ll all be fine in the morning. Okay, Sarah? Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Aunt Laura.”

The woman smiled as she left. She had been hoping you would warm up to them the same way Cooper and Lila warmed up to Steve. Everyone else was going to bed but you and Steve. You were now sat on the couch because you wouldn’t sleep until morning came and you could confirm that Steve was alive. He wasn’t going to sleep, even though you said he could, because he wasn’t going to let you stay up alone in dark thoughts.

~~

He looked like an idiot. All the agents in the office thought it was sweet how he was willing to make himself look like an idiot for you. Because the scene in front of them was quite a sight.

You had sent an email on Steve’s computer asking if anyone knew how to double dutch? Steve didn’t even know it until his inbox was flooded with actual responses. The agents gathered in the training room as agents Fraser and Cole began to spin the ropes. You jumped with ease and then turned your eyes to Steve who was watching with the others. You beckoned him over.

“I don’t know how to double dutch, Babydoll.”

“It’s like Jump In.”

“Jump In?”

“The Disney movie. We watched it last week, with Corbin Bleu and Keke Palmer.”

There were some snickers from other agents. It was funny to them that Steve was relegated to watching movies based on the wishes of a pre-teen. Steve sighed and moved over to where you were. You stepped out and everyone watched as Steve failed multiple times to even jump into the ropes. Fraser and Cole slowed down the ropes as much as they could and showed Steve the easiest jump. He almost failed when you jumped back in but picked up his feet before the ropes got stopped.

“Why the hell is everyone in here instead of the cafeteria where lunch is supposed to be eaten?” Fury yelled as he entered the training room.

He immediately shut up when the agents pointed to you jumping with ease and Steve concentrating with all his might. Fury gave a short laugh and then looked at everyone.

“Lunch ends in ten minutes. Make sure you do your damn job and get back to work on time.”

“Yes sir,” all the agents said, not sparing him a second glance.

~~

Clint called in a burst of laughter after he received the picture from Steve. Nat was soon to follow. The matching Christmas pajamas were already ridiculous enough. The matching bonnets you two were wearing was icing on the cake. It was a small Christmas celebration, just you and him, which reminded Steve a lot of him and his mom. The TV was playing Holiday reruns all day but the reruns were new to both you and Steve. You exchanged presents. You had bought yours when you asked Nat to sneak you out the office for it. Steve opened his present to find a new jacket. You opened yours to see the oil pastels you had been eyeing when you passed by the art store on your runs.

“Thanks, Dad.”

~~

You fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder before the New Year’s Countdown finished. He laughed because you were so determined to stay up to witness your first celebration. Maybe he should’ve woken you up but the thought was too late. The ball already dropped and there was no point in waking you up now for what? 12:01 am? Not nearly as interesting. Steve picked you up and carried you to your room, taking out the hearing aids to place them on your nightstand.

~~

“Where are you from?” you asked Steve during your lunch break with the tutor.

“New York. Brooklyn.”

“Has your family always lived in Brooklyn?”

“Unh-unh. My mom’s from Ireland. Immigrated over with her family.”

“So I’m half-Irish?”

“Yeah, kid. But it’s been years since I’ve celebrated anything even remotely Irish.”

“Why?”

Steve took a bite of his sandwich. He honestly couldn’t remember why. He used to keep it hidden and just to the apartment of him and his mom. Then after she died he slowly stopped because Bucky wasn’t Irish and it just reminded him of his mother. After he entered the war, he became Captain America and, maybe because of how anti-Irish he saw people behave towards his mom growing up, he felt that he couldn’t— that it would somehow make him not Captain America. Not American.

But now that didn’t matter. Except it did because the problem was just passed down to you. Second generation of marginalized group with a single parent.

“It’s never too late to start again,” you said. “March is Irish-American Heritage month, right after Black History.”

“Back to back celebrations. I like your thinking, Babydoll.”

The two of you clinked your bottles of water together.

“Did it surprise you?”

“Hmm?”

“I heard some of the agents talking about you.”

“About what?”

Steve still had to prod to get you to answer anything. Especially when it came to him or HYDRA. You didn’t know much about him past his actual birth and how he ended up in the modern day— both you and Steve weren’t really ready for you to take a deep dive into your father’s history. So you hadn’t seen any pictures or watched any videos but sometimes you still heard things.

“Coming from the 40s and suddenly seeing no segregation. How it must be weird having a mixed kid, that you probably never saw it coming.”

“Have you read much about Brooklyn from my time?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t looked much at Brooklyn at all in your history books.

“I wasn’t rich, Sarah. We lived in the DUMBO area. Historically queer and non-white, lots of different walks of life and people. I might not get it all but I’ve seen it all. The only surprise I got was that you existed, not what the existence looked like.”

You smiled at Steve and then left to go back to your tutor.

~~

The car rides to work now involved Steve learning a new figure in black history for the entire month of February. He wasn’t even sure when you read this information to give him a whole history class every single morning but without fail you had someone for him.

“And Reverend Adam Clayton Powell Jr. was el—”

“Elected to Congress in 1942. Got you on that one, Babydoll,” Steve said as he cut you off.

“How?”

“I’ve met him.”

Steve laughed as you ignored his comment and pulled up a different figure, not one to be outdone just because he happened to know who you were talking about. You made the decision that for the rest of the month, you weren’t mentioning any historical figures from before Steve landed in ice.    

~~

Steve turned the faucet of cold water when you said the hot water was too hot. You surprisingly found the sink relaxing despite Steve’s too big hands trying to be gentle with curls that led to a yelp from you and a curse from him every single time he got caught on a tangle.

Your hair was growing but the wash was still quick, the deep conditioning however was not. It really is a whole day Steve realized and picked up the phone to order Chinese food because he was not about to cook after this. He probably should’ve timed it better because his hands were soaked in conditioner when the knocking on his door started.

“Just a second.”

Steve gave the delivery man an apologetic smile as he handed him a slightly damp five dollar tip. Steve finished washing out the deep condition and you two went into the bathroom so he could finish doing your hair. The first part was easy, divide the front part of your hair into two and make two small buns. He was pretty sure he might have used too much gel when going through the free curls in the back to define them. Steve turned you to the side so he could actually see your face.

“The baby hairs,” you said as you pulled on the two buns to make them a little tighter.

“Yeah, the baby hairs. We totally got this.”

Steve stuck the toothbrush in the edge control and gently formed the baby hairs in swoops along your hairline. You moved your head from side to side while looking in the mirror before nodding in approval. You and Steve high-fived at his first real hairstyle done well and went to the dining room table for the food.

Steve was right. Baby hairs, totally got this. What he didn’t get was how dumb he was to buy a toothbrush for your baby hairs that resembled the toothbrush he used for his teeth. And then leave them both out next to each other after washing off the gel. If they were both clean then would it… no, it would bother Steve so he left to go buy a new toothbrush.

~~

Steve had a few hours before Clint dropped you home. He looked around his house that only a year ago was relatively empty and just for him. Now there were various trinkets from missions, drawings that got switched out for other ones every three days, more of those straw and ribbon polyhedrons, lots of books, and a basket that held blankets. The handwoven one was currently resting on top. Steve moved to his room to take off the suit and change, he tried not to wear the suit around you as much as possible— keep that identity separate. Even if he caught you looking at the shield more than once.

He checked his phone and groaned at the two texts. The one from Clint he welcomed considering it said that you would be home in forty minutes. The other one was from Nat who had decided that Steve had adjusted long enough to now having a child and was ready to get into the dating pool. So he was staring at a text with the attachment of one of the secretaries. He was just going to ignore the text and hoped that Nat got the memo even though he knew she probably wouldn’t, or she would and just didn’t care.

~~

Steve’s birthday rolled around and the headline you said last year was now a real one as the newspapers read: Captain America celebrates Independence Day with reparations. This was the second time actually. The first one was on Juneteenth to black organizations. Steve both times managed to keep you out of the paparazzi, thank goodness. His birthday was a quiet event inside the apartment after the donation fiasco. But it was also quiet because fireworks sounded a lot like gunshots and you were unprepared.

They were loud enough to be heard clearly even without your hearing aids in so Steve was now attempting to distract you with cake. The fireworks you could see were fine but the random ones that rang out and weren’t in the direction you were looking scared you, because you couldn’t connect the noise to something safe.

~~

So artistic abilities definitely ended with both of you when it came to pottery. You and Steve only had clay lumps that vaguely resemble mugs. Following the teacher’s advice, you both got off the pottery wheel and went to the canvases that you were good at. You two sat across from each other and started to sketch each other. The pencil sketches were finished when the class was over. You and Steve took the canvases home, wanting to work on them.

Nick came into the office for a mission report during Steve’s lunch break to see the two of you— lunch in one hand, the other using pastels to color in your drawings of each other. Steve interrupted your drawing to grab your hand and rub multiple pastels on it until finding which combo would create your shade. Nick didn’t want to interrupt and walked out. He would just ask for the report when you went back upstairs for tutoring.

~~

“Steve, sorry. I got called on a mission too and Sarah was freaking out about going with Laura and the kids to a new place—”

“Clint, it’s fine. Just where are you taking her?”

“We could only ask your neighbor. It’s not like people don’t know your face now, I mean we didn’t tell her in case she doesn’t but…”

“Don’t be surprised when I get home? Okay, thank you, man.”

When the mission ended, Steve felt like shit. He called his blonde neighbor and asked her to keep you at her place a little longer. He carefully snuck upstairs and almost made it into the house but he heard your foot shuffles and soon his neighbor’s front door opened. If Steve closed the door in your face, it would break all levels of trust but he was trying to avoid you seeing him busted up.

“Hey, Babydoll,” he said while keeping his head down as he entered the apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow.

His attempt was a short-lived success as you ran to his bathroom before he could close the door. You gasped when you saw the cuts and bruises.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise. I’m fine, Sarah, I was trying not to have you see.”

You pointed to the toilet and made him sit on it. Steve watched you pull the first aid kit from his cabinet drawer and pull out the hydrogen peroxide and cotton. He grabbed your hand to stop you.

“You don’t have to—”

“You fix my hair, I fix your face.”

Steve shut up and let you run the pad with hydrogen peroxide over his face. He opened his mouth to argue against the band-aids. Partly because they were unnecessary and partly because the band-aids were Frozen themed and not that he didn’t like the snowman but he didn’t exactly want Olaf on his face. But you shut him up before he could even tell you what he was going to argue with you about.

(Part 6)...

#steve rogers x teen!reader #steve rogers x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x black!reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers fic #marvel fic

[nocompromise-noregrets]

five good things

because I'm utterly exhausted after two bad nights' sleep and not getting the most out of my time off work, so let's remind myself of the good stuff...

I'm off work for two weeks, hooray! The plan is to study, write a lot for Barduil Month, write an assignment (project plan for end of module assessment comparing extracts from the script for FotR and the book), do some housework and generally chill out; so far I've only managed the chilling out bit (I spent 11.5 hours in bed on Sunday night and slept for 4.5 of those hours; it took me six hours to fall asleep >.< no apparent reason at all, and then last night I slept longer but kept waking up aargh). But hey, I didn't have to go to work!

I've written something for day 30 of Barduil Month and am currently working on day 28 :D Super excited for this event and super excited about the ideas I'm having! (check it out at @bi-widower-dads if you haven't already!)

I had a lovely birthday yesterday despite the exhaustion (special thank yous to @spiced-wine-fic for the card and book, I'm really looking forward to getting stuck into that!, and to @scary-grace for the fic omg!); we finished watching Endeavour in the evening (very entertained that the villain of the week seemed to be a massive dig at Laurence Fox XDDDD ), I have the very nice Franziskaner Royal in the beer machine and the missus got me some new bike gear because I was due a new helmet and my jeans and jacket don't fit properly since I spent two years sitting on my backside eating food, so I have some awesome new stuff. The brother and sisterinlaw sent me a stained glass/glass-painting kit, and despite my utter lack of artistic talent I think I might be able to do something with it (they like to use their imagination when selecting presents, which tends to be a bit hit-and-miss, but this might just be a hit); and my lovely German friends sent me the Känguru-Comics book of cartoons and also sent on the t-shirt that was supposed to be a Christmas present from the missus only the seller sent the wrong size so we had to get them to send the right one, and the complication of no longer being in the EU meant we had to send it to the girls and get them to send on because the seller no longer ships to the UK, sigh. Anyway, it's an awesome bike-gang-style design for the Riders of Rohan and I adore it.

I've been watching Expert Witness which is a daytime BBC show about forensic experts solving criminal cases, and finding it really interesting; there's a forensic linguist whose work has been a case study on my course and he's appeared twice on it, for starters. Plus I am morbidly interested in this sort of thing anyway; and the daytime BBC One shows always entertain me because the common thread is always 'there are bad people out there but you mustn't worry because they always get caught' (yes, it's an oversimplification, but trust me, it's always there in the narration) - catering for the anxious daytime audience, whether it's consumer affairs, wrong'uns caught on camera, traffic police catching people who drive like wankers, forensic experts catching wrong'uns...always couched in very reassuring terms XD

I'm planning a Hobbit/LotR rewatch although so far I've been too knackered for it, and tomorrow Ted Lasso is back! :D :D :D I need to catch up with Daisy Jones and the Six too, although...I dunno...it's all right, but the casting is super weird; Billy looks the right age in the 20-years-later documentary sequences but too old in the 1970s scenes, whereas everyone else looks the right age in the '70s and too young in the 20-years-later bits, and it's really throwing me out of it, especially Graham and Eddie. But it's enjoyable enough, and the songs are great, so... *shrugs*

We had a good afternoon/evening out on Saturday - went up to the outlet centre at the docks, got some excellent new makeup (I barely wear any, not having the opportunity for clubs or gigs much any more, but I've taken to wearing some to go to the pub every Friday because why the hell not, so I fancied some new stuff, including some more metallic eyeshadow and a fantastic metallic purple lipstain :D ), went to the Brewhouse, which was full of rugby lads and wasn't doing their usual seasonal witbier, so we went to a different pub for an hour or so and then went to our dinner reservation at the semi-fancy French bistro where lovely Tom from t'pub now works, and got to see him and have a chat and have some lovely food and free kir royales for signing up for the newsletter, and cocktails at the end of the night that didn't show up on the bill, which I suspect lovely Tom had something to do with, and generally had a great time. That's our going-out-out quota fulfilled for the year XDDDD

Think that's it for now. Back to day 28 of Barduil Month, it's getting angsty!

#five good things #my writing

[sheliesshattered]

Dragon Con 2023 Retrospective

We've been home from Dragon Con for two weeks as of today -- but we've spent most of that time recovering from a particularly nasty Con Crud™. I tested negative for covid, but Jack tested positive and we had the same symptoms, so eh I figure I finally actually caught it, after several rounds of head colds that tested negative.

I always get some level of Con Crud and/or spoonie post-event exhaustion, so I was prepared to feel pretty awful for a week or two at least. The fever and sinus headache was a bit novel this year, but as I'm getting over this infection I'm actually feeling okay-ish. Hopefully my energy will continue to return over the next few weeks (I've got a big day of walking planned for the end of October!) but otherwise I might actually be feeling better now than I have two weeks post Dragon Con (or post Wasteland Weekend) in previous years.

And unlike previous years, I got through the whole con and the trip home without feeling sick at all. A little dehydrated at times (the wait for airport security at ATL was the worst honestly), and my body taking the trouble to remind me how much stretching in the evening helps me, but nothing worse than that.

I've had Dragon Cons in past years when I was too wiped out to even leave the hotel room by Sunday evening, but this year I spent Sunday evening standing around and socializing at the Doctor Who Ball, and didn't hate myself for it later. A combination of being in better physical condition now in general, and pacing myself (and Jack needing to pace too), and staying on top of vitamins and electrolytes and water all really seemed to help.

We got home on the Monday of Labor Day weekend, and then Tuesday morning I was feeling well enough to go grocery shopping on my own and make corn chowder from scratch when I got back. I was tired, but not too bad, honestly. Buuut by that evening I had a sore throat, then by Wednesday morning both Jack and I woke up with a fever. The rest of the week continued more or less like that, with a lot of lying around on the couch and watching movies and tv shows, lol.

Despite feeling like death, we did spend some time talking about what went well at Dragon Con 2023, what we'd want to do again and what we'd want to do differently. I really enjoyed the House of the Dragon photo meetup on Saturday, and wearing my Rhaenyra cosplay in general. I even ended up wishing that I'd carved out time to go to the Game of Thrones/ASOIAF photo meetup in the same costume, just to have more time in that dress and hanging out with that fandom.

There's something that I really enjoy about working hard for months on end to make something screen-accurate from a fandom that is active but also fairly focused. I recognized every costume worn at the HotD meetup, knew which character wore it in which episode, etc. Everyone I talked with at that meetup knew exactly which dress I was wearing, which character I was, and noticed the details I spent so much time working on -- just as I did theirs. There's a wonderful camaraderie and bonding in appreciating each other's hard work to achieve screen accurate reproductions of well-known and visually compelling costumes.

Between that meetup and late night drinking shenanigans while wearing my Rhaenyra cosplay, I really felt like I achieved my peak Dragon Con experience this year while wearing that costume.

By contrast, while I did have fun wearing my Harley Quinn Taylor Swift mashup cosplay, I didn't have nearly as much fun as I did as Rhaenyra. I got some nice compliments from complete strangers who saw the shirt and got the mashup concept, and I had one funny in-character interaction with a Joker cosplayer, but by the evening I was ready to switch back to being Rhaenyra.

The Harley mashup was clever, but not people-stopping-to-take-pictures clever, and honestly there are just a lot of Harleys running around the con. And her canon is a lot more scattered than HotD/GoT canon, and costumes are much more commercially available, so there wasn't nearly the same level of bonding over hand-making the costumes.

The Swifties meetup was fun, and exchanging the beaded friendship bracelets I made was a good experience -- but honestly I had more fun handing out the few Rhaenyra ones I made than I did exchanging the Swiftie ones. I don't regret making the Harley Quinn Taylor Swift mashup, but it did really help clarify my priorities for future Dragon Cons.

So Harley Quinn was fun, but won't be repeated, I don't think. But because I'd worn Rhaenyra's red dress so late into the evening on Friday, I hadn't had a chance to wear my punk!Rhaenyra original concept yet, so on Saturday night when I wanted to switch back to Rhaenyra for awhile, I got to break that one out for late night parties and shenanigans (and also Dairy Queen).

Sunday was lower-key by comparison. Quite a few Doctor Who cosplayers looked right at my Oswin and didn't seem to recognize it, which seems to be par for the course for mainstream Whovians when it comes to Clara's era. That said, just when I was starting to get snarky about that (quietly, only to Jack), a Sixth Doctor cosplayer complimented my Oswin, which made the whole thing feel worth it.

And then when I switched to my MOTOE Clara cosplay for the evening hours, there were a few more people who clearly recognized the costume -- including one woman who gasped and yelled 'Clara!!' at me as we were passing each other in heavy Marriott crowds. I didn't get a chance to do more than gasp in surprise at her excitement, but the cycling of the Marriott crowd being what it is, we eventually passed each other again, and I ran off through the crowd to catch her that time. We chatted for a bit and I gave her the beaded bracelet reading 'Don't Stop Me Now' that I made for exactly that situation, lol. We ended up hanging out at the Doctor Who Ball, but her excitement over the MOTOE cosplay really made my night.

The Doctor Who Ball had a costume contest (that wasn't real well organized, but sounds like it will be a more official thing in future years, because it was such a popular event) that I entered on a lark. The announcement of the winners in particular wasn't well done, I missed it completely because I was talking with people, but I went and asked afterwards and found out that I'd done well and (according to the woman running the contest, who immediately asked to take a picture with me) apparently I only lost the Companion category to a Wilf cosplayer who was spot-on, and tugging on everyone's heartstrings. I don't know how close the vote really was, but her enthusiasm for my cosplay felt like such a gift.

I haven't felt like going to GallifreyOne in recent years, since I've felt so much on the outside of the Doctor Who fandom (between the hate focused on Clara's era and my own dislike of the most recent era), but the Doctor Who Ball was a great time to talk with like-minded Whovians, and to remember why I love this corner of the fandom in general.

I think MOTOE Clara will probably make an appearance at future Dragon Cons, and Oswin met the original purpose of being a comfortable easy-to-wear cosplay for during the day, so in all likelihood that one will come back too (after just a little bit of repair work on the belt).

The red silk Rhaenyra gown held up well, much better than I feared it would. I maaay need to handwash it, but I washed the fabric with shampoo before I sewed it, so theoretically it can be handwashed again, if it really needs it. I need to replace the shoes, but that's already in progress. At this point I'm planning to bring Rhaenyra's Red Dress back to Dragon Con 2024 (and maybe even to something else in between, like Wonder Con?). Quite possibly punk!Rhaenyra too.

I think season 2 of HotD will air before next Dragon Con, or at least start before the end of August. There's every possibility that there will be new costumes from s2 that I'll want to make -- but either way, I know now that I want to lean into cosplay from fandoms like HotD/GoT, and focus less on fandoms like Harley Quinn.

I've already started thinking about and planning cosplays for next year, but this is already way too long, so I'll post an update about that tomorrow...

#Dragon Con #Dragon Con 2023 #my cosplay #my sewing #RRD cosplay #Harley Quinn Swiftie cosplay #Oswin Oswald cosplay #Clara Oswald cosplay #House of the Dragon cosplay #Rhaenyra Targaryen cosplay #Harley Quinn cosplay #Doctor Who cosplay #long post #my costumes #2023 mood

[nancypullen]

The End of May

How’d that happen? Holy cow, June is knocking on the door and I feel like I just turned the calendar to May.  May is always a busy month though, lots of gardening, mulching, praying to the flower gods, and that sort of thing.  No surprise that it passes in a blur.

Since the last time that I posted on this space we’ve spent another day in D.C., gone to the Caroline County Pride Festival, and to the strawberry festival in Ridgley, just down the road.  We picked up the grandgirl Friday morning and she put mileage on all of the bouncy houses at the festivals.  That girl loves to bounce. D.C. was fun. It was a gorgeous day and we caught the Metro at the New Carrollton station...

just after the morning rush, so it was an easy breezy ride into the city.

We popped up a very short walk from the National Air & Space Museum and had timed entry tickets for opening at 10am. Perfect!  This is Mickey’s favorite museum, so I told him to  go play and I’d just wander.  There’s always something new and interesting.  You can follow the journey from first flight to space stations and rovers.  I was in the area devoted to the story of Orville and Wilbur Wright, the brothers who gave us all wings, when I learned something new. 

 Without Mother Wright we might not have flown, reached the moon, or explored space.

Thanks, Susan.  You can’t help but learn things in any Smithsonian building.  Even the bathrooms are educational.

After spending time in Air & Space ,we went to lunch in Chinatown - and ate at a Mexican restaurant.   That was my fault.  I wanted to go to a place that I remembered, a place I’d loved, and I knew exactly how to get there.  I told Mickey that when we exit the Chinatown Metro station we hang a left and it’s about half a block down.  And that’s exactly where it was...ten years ago.  Oops.  It has moved, we were hungry, and so we ate at a spot nearby.  It was adequate.  We wrapped up our day around 3 o’clock to beat the afternoon rush and hopped a nearly empty train back to New Carrollton where our car was parked. This is where we hang a right.

 It’s really an easy and fun way to swap our sleepy little town for D.C. for a few hours.  

Know what else was fun? The Pride Festival!  Denton is home to Caroline County’s Pride Festival and they do it right - games, food, music, vendors (I bought some yummy linen spray), and just a truly wonderful vibe.  The crowd was so kind, the spirit of the event was pure fun, and everywhere I looked there were messages of love, tolerance, and unity.  It was great.  A temporary wall was put up so that festival attendees could paint on it (kind of like the Lennon wall in Prague!) and it was fun to watch it fill in.  Little Miss tried her hand at dunk tanks, bubble wands, and much more.  If you asked her she’d probably say the best part was the snow cone.

Obviously not the best pics, but her face isn’t showing so I can share them here. She spent most of her time in a bouncy castle and had a ball.

On Sunday we traveled about ten minutes down the road to Ridgely’s strawberry festival.  I’d give it a pass next year.  They had a great kids’ area, numerous bounce houses and obstacle courses, but everything else was overpriced, long lines, and there was real Trumpy vibe to the whole thing.  Not the lighthearted and friendly crowd from Saturday. A lot of the booths were political (aren’t we all sick of that?) and kind of hateful, and there were surprisingly few strawberries.  There was a long line to pay $8 for a styrofoam bowl with strawberry shortcake in it. Nah. Little Miss did get some gorgeous, glittery face paint though.

  We stayed for the parade which was basically every fire truck on the Eastern Shore and some Shriners.  We came home and the grandgirl jumped in her pool and Mickey grilled burgers for dinner.  Good day.

Tomorrow we’ll drive to Rehobeth Beach to visit BrowseAbout Books and enjoy some readings and Q&A with David Sedaris.  All of this is more than we usually do in a month and I’m tired.  I’m not doing a darn thing today. I tossed in some laundry but that’s it.  I did wipe a couple baseboards, but that’s really it. I have resisted the urge to do anything else.  We have leftovers so I’m not even cooking dinner.  Well, I’ve got some Georgia sweetcorn that I’ll cook, but everything else is already in the frig.  Mickey picked out a great watermelon so I may just have corn and melon for dinner.  It’s enough. That’s all the news that is news from the Pullen homestead.  In June we have Tyler’s birthday and Father’s Day, in July we’ll celebrate our 39th wedding anniversary, I think we’re in the clear for August, in September I’ll turn 60 (omg!!), and in October we fly off to Ireland!  After that there won’t be much of 2023 left.  Seems to be whizzing by faster than usual.  Is that what getting old feels like?  I’m not a fan, so I’m just going to enjoy this day. I’m going to listen to the birds sing, read a good book, maybe work on a little craft ,and make the most of this handful of hours.  That’s all a life is, right, moments strung together? I’ll build a happy life one moment at a time. Wishing you all of the happy moments your heart can stand.  Little ones, big ones, even moments of sighing and thinking,“this is nice” - that can be a cool drink on a sunny patio or a long soak in a steamy bath.  It all adds up.  Sending out love, grab it if you need it.

Stay safe, stay well, enjoy the moments. XOXO - Nancy

[squeemcsquee]

PeoriaCon 2023: Saturday

This year was the fifth PeoriaCon, a small pop culture con at the Expo Gardens. It’s a con that really feels first like a marketplace, and second like a full-con experience. I really feel like part of that vibe is because of their location. The Expo Gardens admin/youth building has a snack bar and bathrooms and the exhibit space, so you’d think it would be perfect – and it is, if all you want is a marketplace. But if you’re trying to add in panels or game tournaments or anything else, well, then it’s just a wee bit cramped and noisy. Which I guess you can sort of tell from looking at the con map.

Still, the con is growing each year and is definitely popular. This year was the second year of the con being a two-day weekend. If you wanted to attend both days, you did have to pay each day -since they’re still relying on hand stamps as proof of admission for regular attendees, there’s no way to get a weekend pass yet.

In an effort to get people in right at the start, PeoriaCon offers limited edition posters each year. Sadly, we didn’t get one this year – there was already a decent line by the time @lechevaliermalfet and I arrived on Saturday morning.

We paid for admittance and did a quick loop of the dealers, just to get a feel for what we might be purchasing. A strength of PeoriaCon’s marketplace is the variety of vendors you’ll encounter.

There were two free-to-play arcade cabinets set up. Lines weren’t terribly long for either during the weekend, which was nice. We played a few rounds on the Ninja Turtles machine before stepping away to let others take a chance.

We then returned to the panel / cafeteria portion of the building. Here, we submitted entries to PeoriaCon’s sweepstakes – every hour, they announced two winners, who would receive something from one of the vendors on-site. We didn’t win any of these drawings either. Guess luck wasn’t with us this year.

I looked into the panel options for Saturday and the space of the panel area. There were topics that caught my eye, but as in years past, I ended up skipping the panels. The limited space and minimal barriers to the sounds coming from the exhibit space, the photographers set up in the cafeteria, and the bathrooms in the hallway next to the panel space just prove to be too distracting for me to easily relax and enjoy myself during the years I have attended panels.

There was also mock fighting going on, but we didn’t choose to do that, either.

With the sweepstakes entries taken care of, we returned to the marketplace to lighten our wallets a little. But I think we got a great haul, honestly – plenty of good artwork, some new books to read, new dice, and more.

We then had to re-up our hand stamps, as they were starting to fade, and then left for lunch. Nothing against the snack bar at the Expo Gardens – their prices are comparable to what you’d pay at other snack bars for events – but the line was long and the seating limited. So, we went to where we could take our time.

Seriously, how do they expect that stamp to last all day?

@el-draco-bizarro​ met us for lunch and then joined us when we returned to the con. This year, the guest of honor was Walter Jones, the original Black Power Ranger. He had arrived at the con while we were away at lunch and when we returned, we were surprised at the length of the line. After @lechevaliermalfet confirmed with con staff that Walter Jones would be back on Sunday, I opted to skip the line for Saturday. But I look in on the line from time to time. It took approximately 1.5-2 hours for attendees to get through the line on Saturday to get their autographs, photos, and videos.

I thought I had a photo of the line, since it was so impressive, but nope, I guess I don’t.

There was more shopping and people watching. And I played Pokemon Go all through the day, which probably doesn’t surprise anyone.

I ran into one of my cousins and got to hang out with her for a few minutes.

I also had a vendor recognize me from PeoriaCon’s first year, when I cosplayed my original build of the Glow Cloud. I told him I was working on a new build, due to how heavy the old one was. And because I’ve had some ideas on how to improve the smaller build that I made last year.

And then, at the end of the day, it was time for the cosplay contest.

PeoriaCon may be small, but they have a sizable cosplay contest. This could be in part due to their partnership with a photography studio – all contest participants are guaranteed to get their cosplay professionally photographed.

Seeing the cosplay that’s on display at PeoriaCon is impressive. But I do wish those watching the cosplay contest could see it better. The con doesn’t have any kind of stage or platform for participants to stand on to elevate them for audience viewing. Volume is also an issue – because of the acoustics of the room (the cosplay contest is held in the cafeteria area) and the limitations of the Expo Gardens audio equipment, it can be extremely difficult to understand the emcee.

I took photographs during the contest as best I could, but the angle was super, super shitty for most of them. So, I sadly don’t have many I think are worth sharing.

I did end up going on Sunday as well, so I’ll have that write-up soon. 

All PeoriaCon 2023 coverage:

Saturday (current post)

Sunday 

#peoriacon #peoriacon2023 #con review #con report #prose and cons

[wevelocityteampresents-blog]

SEPTEMBER 1ST

I started to work on another new art piece. This time, it was created digitally. I figured that if I can't complete any traditional artwork, I might as well focus on digital work instead.

I didn't have much reason to be sad. Today was the day I created a new poll for my website. This poll will help me decide the new character for MEOWCO. You can send your vote here!

SEPTEMBER 2ND

Saturday seemed a little uneventful. I finished that new artwork from yesterday. However, I won't be able to upload it to my website until tomorrow due to personal reasons.

When it came to Pokémon, Shelgon evolved today. It was a good thing I focused on his Speed before he evolved.

While in Sandgem Town, I decided to talk to Dawn to see if she had anything new to say to me. To my surprise, I unlocked the ability to fight her.

If you want to see this match for yourself, you can watch it here. Seeing her use Magmortar reminded me that I should train my own at some point.

You don't say?

I managed to find a Sneasel on Route 217 that held a Quick Claw. Naturally, I caught it.

Since I didn't need the Sneasel, I took her to the Global Wonder Station to start a chain of Wonder Trades.

I didn't get any new Pokémon. But the events that happened in the GWS were still pretty interesting.

I don't know who this Cog person is. But they must have teleportation powers if they can be in two places at once.

After my next Wonder Trade, I marked my 250th point.

I thought I wouldn't see this screen again until I marked 300 points. The Rare Candies will be of great use in the future.

SEPTEMBER 3RD

I finally finished my new art piece. (The first real piece of artwork I've drawn since July.) I based it on an official crossover between the Pokémon franchise and Hatsune Miku. (Yes, that is something that ACTUALLY exists) You can view it on my website.

SEPTEMBER 4TH

I visited the Jubilife TV Station to win my daily lottery prize. I was expecting something like a Lucky Egg or some PP Up. Instead, I got the first prize:

It's not a Master Ball. But it's still something handy. I knew visiting this place every day would pay off!

After another battle, I went back to Pokémon Violet to add more Pokémon to the Paldea Pokédex. One of the Pokémon I needed was a Primeape. And luckily, there was a shiny Primeape available for trade on Pokémon HOME's GTS. I got it in exchange for the Cresselia I caught last month.

I knew I'd be able to trade her for something someday.

SEPTEMBER 5TH

I struggled to complete some assignments because of the air quality. It was just as bad as the middle of the summer. Despite that, I still managed to get things done.

I thought about taking on the Wi-Fi Room in the Heartgold Battle Tower again. This time, I'll use a Ditto with Quick Powder to deal with the hacked Pokémon in the 7th round. Even though it sounds like a solid strategy, my current internet connection doesn't support non-DSi enhanced games. I'll find a way to connect it someday.

In Pokémon Violet, I was going to fly somewhere until I came across a wild Sliggoo. It was a roaming Tera Pokémon that was at a low level. Fortunately, Braixen was enough to lower its health so I could catch it.

In all honestly, that might have been one of my difficult catches in this game.

Speaking of catch, these Poké Ball descriptions are a little confusing.

Is the Dive Ball more effective than the Lure Ball? Is it the other way around? Someone should have written these in a way that explained the Ball functions more clearly.

While trying to find Flabébé, I decided to talk to one of the nearby picnickers. To my surprise, she gave me some new sandwich ingredients.

The interaction made me talk to other picnickers. Sure enough, they also gave me some things for sandwiches.

While the ingredients were cool, I was disappointed in the fact that I couldn't join in with the other people on the route. (Like with camps in the Sword and Shield versions.)

I used Pokémon HOME to transfer a few Pokémon I needed to complete the Paldea Pokédex. While I still had the game open, I converted some of my HOME Points into Battle Points for Pokémon Brilliant Diamond.

I spent some of the new BP on a Muscle Band for CHAIRMAN.

Back in Violet, I was looking around for a Masquerain. I stopped to fight this Poké Maniac just for his dialogue.

But Pokémon ARE like the monsters in movies. (At least most of them are...) I thought I had to reset the game because he had a Pokémon that could help raise the stats of my Pokémon. That was until I realized Bagon was the only one he had on hand.

This might be the first time I've heard Pokémon be referred to as "monsters" since 2005. (And outside of Japan, too.)

But Pokémon always win.

After I beat that guy, I went off to hatch a Slakoth. But not before witnessing a Magikarp aimlessly flop around, waiting to become dinner for some predator.

After racing around on Miraidon for a bit, the Slakoth finally hatched in one of the Ten Sights of Paldea.

Secluded, this is not.

With a nearby Crabrawler, the caught Pokémon total rose to 355. Now there's only 45 more Pokémon for me to deal with.

A task I'm sure I won't have any trouble with in the slightest.

AUGUST 6TH

I managed to speed up my schoolwork and completely embarrass someone by getting better grades than them in my classes. I wish most of my school days could be like that.

When I went to see the Pokémon I got through Wonder Trades in Pokémon HOME, I managed to get a Chatot.

It came from the DP series and belonged to someone named Concert. I was about to trade it. But stopped after I learned about this Pokémon's value.

This Chatot is actually an event Pokémon. Given away in honor of the 10th Anniversary Concert held for... ...Pokémon's 10th anniversary. This explains the name and why it came from the DP series. What makes things more special is that I obtained this little guy through a Wonder Trade as opposed to the GTS or regular trades.

#pokémon #Pokemon Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl #Pokemon Violet #Slowpoke #Magikarp #Primeape #shiny pokemon #Kanto #Chatot #event pokemon #Cresselia #legendary pokemon #Sliggoo #Kalos #Pokemon HOME #Dawn #screenshots #gameplay #Nintendo Switch #Nintendo #Game Freak #Creatures Inc. #Ilca #personal

[lifewithoutmeds]

august 13, 2023

sunday, august 13, 9:34 a.m.

it's been a relatively good week, that is, significantly better than i'd been feeling for some months. i was very productive all week, definitely more productive than i'd been in the last several weeks, but also just probably as productive or more productive than i'd ever been. i worked through some lunches and usually stayed a bit after to wrap up things and make sure things were getting completed. i was very on top of it. wednesday at work i barely had a chance to breathe, much less take my two break/walks, but i did get a lunch break where i had my favorite indian curry/rice lunch.

so yhea, nothing particularly eventful monday - friday. just worked, and as soon as work would be done i'd go lay down and stare at my phone. friday after work i was pretty bored and in need of something different, so i met up with lorena at tony's and we went to pizzanista, had a big slice of delicious pepperoni pizza, then to tony's for a couple beers and some ping pong, which was pretty fun. then we went our separate ways, but it was nice seeing her, and definitely nice just getting out. it felt good to sort of reward myself for a week's worth of productivity and staying at home and not spending money, etc.

saturday i didn't too much. had some coffee, looked at a lease for like 30 minutes, then met up my mom at 1pm to go look at a few open houses, condos nearby, none of which were fantastic, then we went to Bravo Cafe and got some kebab lunch plates which were quite good. she seemed glad to see me and seemed like she was having a good time and was grateful that i'd gone to see the condos with her. i guess she feels like she is seen and treated a bit differently, like we look more like serious buyers together but she gets treated like she just kind of wandered off the street and popped in.

at 6 i met up with grace to walk the rose bowl for the first time in YEARS. it was really great to be back there, like old times, and just walking and talking and working up a sweat. afterward we went to a local home state in pasadena where she got a few tacos and some tequila, while i was nursing a stomachache so just stuck to tequila-based drinks and an arnold palmer. again, it was nice hanging out, and just sharing our updates on life and feelings, etc. i went home feeling very satisfied.

today i got up around 6:30/7 and finally got off my stupid phone and went for a 47 minute walk while listening to The Read and caught myself kinda smiling a few times during their commentary. i then came home and took a FULL SHOWER, including the washing of my hair which i had neglected for possibly an entire week. i did take a quick rinse maybe yesterday or the day before but i hadn't been washing my hair, so today was a bit of a big deal.

today i'm meeting up with amy after she's done with church, about noonish, and we're supposed to go walking at this somewhat shady nature walk near JPL that i'd been to a few times before. then possibly eating, although if we finish walking around 2, i don't know what that would make it. a very early dinner? a late lunch? the tail end of brunch? i guess it doesn't matter particularly, but i have to sort of time if i have any breakfast so i don't get another stomachache from eating too much too soon.

i'm genuinely surprised at how much better i'm feeling this week than i have in weeks prior. it's genuinely shocking. today, one week ago, i was in bed, unable to move, just staring at my phone, reading weird true-crime stories off of facebook, and taking a total of 300 steps or so the entire day. i've already walked over 5,000 steps today and will definitely be adding at least 5,000 more after my walk today with amy. i feel like cleaning and sorting out my living environment. i fried some fish a few days ago and it still faintly smells like fish and it would be nice to get rid of that smell. mental health is a bizarre thing. i was completely convinced that i might never ever feel better, that i'd just feel like dying until the day i died, but i'm feeling just these gentle stirrings of .... life almost? i still don't really want to do anything, still can't think of things i'd actually like to do or have any real hopes or dreams or aspirations, but i feel okay about living today, which is HUUUUGE.

anyway, must remember that i can feel this way. that this is possible. this is again, just such a departure from how i was feeling even just one week ago. i can't believe a change could be this dramatic in such a short period.

hoping i can ride this bout of hopefulness for some time.

[noritoshiikamo]

tsukishima kei x reader cw mean kei, light brat taming, spanking and slapping, tying up wrists, breeding kink, unprotected sex

a part of my 3k milestone event request belongs to my girlboss @sookyshima <3 hope it makes your lockdown better

- breeding brat

“i told you we’ll talk about this later.”

“don’t bother coming home!”

kei has been staring at his phone for hours, no calls, no text, nothing from his sweetheart.

the angry phone call he had earlier with you lingered in his mind as he caught the last train of the night. he wasn’t even sure what the argument was about anymore as he leaned against the pole of the train, eyes drooping from exhaustion. something along the line of how late he has been coming home from the museum, something about ignoring you.

maybe he has been a little bit harsh on you, you had been taking care of him, yourself, the little pet cat you adopted together right after you moved in together and the small apartment in check.

kei made a point running to the nearby convenience store that opens 24/7, lucked out in getting a couple last slices of strawberry shortcake you both love. along with a couple more stuff he knew would make it up to his crappy behaviour, kei continued his walk a couple more blocks until he reached the apartment complex.

the light was still on when he unlocked the front door, something common on friday night with you staying up late sprawled on the sofa catching up on your shows. “hey buddy,” he greeted your cat, waiting on the doorstep. the cat purred underneath his heavy hand scratching its head before kei called for you. you huffed, rolling your eyes as you sank further into the heap of comforter wrapping you, ignoring his tall frame by the tv.

“you still mad at me?”

“i’m sorry, you’re talking to me?” you sneered, eyes focused on the flashing tv.

kei didn’t give up, sighing as he hung his bag and coat, before sitting in the small space between the table and the sofa, right in front of you. with his height, it obstructed your view forcing you to look down on him. the bag rustled as he pulled the box of dessert out, a small smile hung on the corner of his lips, “i’m sorry.” he sounded sincere, and the box of shortcake was tempting but you shook your head, scooting away from him to the end of the sofa.

he had been doing this for weeks, a simple shortcake and his pretty dumb face might had work before but you had enough.

“you could’ve been more understanding of me, you know,” kei sounded hurt, settling the dessert on the table. you bit on your nails, busied your mouth from spitting whatever bubbling angrily in your chest, he stood up, feet pitter pattered on the wooden floor as he walked to the kitchen. he was tired, he was starving and he was just ready to drag you to bed to pin you down in his arms, spooning you till saturday morning comes.

but there was nothing in the kitchen, nothing in the pans, under one of the food covers or the oven, nothing for him to eat. his stomach made pain noises from lack of food; his last meal was from lunch where he only had the cold sandwiches from the vending machine because you didn’t pack him lunch.

“are we getting take outs? should i call that place that opens late?” kei asked, walking out of the kitchen looking for the phone.

“i’ve eaten,” you said flatly.

“oh,” kei nodded, placing the phone down, “is there anything left for me. should i heat it up for us? we can share.”

he was trying so hard, despite losing a sliver of patience with you pushing him away with your nonchalant answers. kei was even willing to share his portion despite the burning pain in his belly. rolling his sleeves and undoing a couple few buttons, it was a sight you couldn’t stop yourself from ogling on. you pulled the comforter away from your face, his heart softened at the sight of your upset face. he could see the little hue of colour underneath your eyes and bridge of nose from crying. but all the sympathy he had, it all went away when you opened your mouth.

“i told you i already ate. i didn’t know if you were coming home or not, so i didn’t cook for you,” you closed the tv, finishing the last sip of your wine before gathering the comforter to retreat to the spare room.

“what made you think i wasn’t coming home?” his hand slammed on the wall, blocking your path to the hallway. gritting your teeth, you glanced at the blonde, long gone was that soft wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, it was just pure annoyance etched on his face. “i’m sorry, i should’ve not projected my anger on you like this. i did make something for you in the fridge let me heat it up and let’s talk like an adult,” was what you should’ve said but instead you’re stubborn. kei dated you because of your independence and your stubborn attitude. it’s the reason why your relationship has been going steady from college until now. but your stubbornness is finally gonna bite you in the ass as you snapped on your boyfriend.

“i don’t know, kei. my schedule is pretty busy, it is getting hard to accommodate you in my life. maybe you aren't that busy, you would've sort it yourself.”

his golden eyes widened

you were seeing stars when your body fell rough on the sofa. you didn’t had time to adjust to what was happening as kei climbed on you. he was kissing you, and you could feel his anger in every swipe of his tongue. your hand pressing against his chest, trying to push him off, you were out of breath but he pressed down on you further. “k-kei,” you whined, managed to break free of his kiss as he found solace in the crook of your neck, sucking and biting on your skin until it broke and tasted blood in his mouth. “shut up,” he hissed, clamping harder on your neck.

the fact that you moaned, riled him up further.

“you know,” he grunted, yanking on the white shirt off his sticky body, “i work so hard for you, for us. i would love for once that you would’ve given me some respect.” your mouth hung loose at how easy he ripped a long strip of cloth out of the shirt, the remainder scattered on the floor. you didn’t fight when he gathered your wrists together, lacing the cloth around your wrist neatly. it was tight, the knot eating on your skin as you tried to yank it apart. “don’t,” he warned, still straddling your body down as his fingers slipped underneath the elastic band of your shorts until he found your clit; throbbing and slick underneath his palm.

“look at you, soaking wet after just a kiss.” your breath hitched as he wrapped his fingers around the column of your neck, you couldn’t help the sudden gush you felt as he tightened the grip, “or do you get off on getting me angry, little girl?” he hissed, looking down at you through the narrowed slits. you wished you weren’t so reactive, but kei knew you so well as he flicked your clit rougher. his name echoed the small space as he continued to grind his pad down your clit. you hate the restriction around your wrists, it burned the more you tug it apart and you want him to stop, you think, because it’s embarrassing how close you are to cumming.

“kei, s-slow down,” you croaked, tensing up.

“did i tell you to open your mouth?”

the hand around your neck left to give your cheek a light, stinging slap. it only made your hip buck against his palm. you know what he’s thinking, you know how pathetic you look right now and with another slap to your face was all it took to make you come undone. you felt like burying your face in the sofa, panting like a bitch on heat as kei continued to rub you through the orgasm until your body limped underneath him. “did you just cum?” he chuckled, slapping his long palm along your sopping mess, “you’re making a whole fucking mess on my hand.” you were a flushing mess, eyes shut tight unable to string out even an apology out as he hoisted you up on his laps.

“look at me,” his breath fanned your skin, gripping tightly on your face. you shook your head, lips jutting slightly into a small pout. you’re too embarrassed to even look at him, not after all the things you yelled at him and how easily you caved in to his touch. your ego’s bruised. “no?” he cooed, your head shaking left to right as you pressed your hands to his chest. “you seemed to have a lot to say to me earlier huh? why don’t you say that to my face?” his voice softer than before, but you’re not that stupid. you know all of his façade.

“n-no,” you wanted to be firm, but the shakiness of your voice could only make the blonde smile. he kissed you again, gentler this time, hands on the side of your face. “you sure?” his hands slowly crept underneath your shirt, tracing his cold fingertips along your warm skin. he loves the way your body tensed up underneath his touch, your eyes twitching but still refusing to open up. “fine, if you want to be this stubborn, go ahead,” his lips pressed against your cheek, tracing along your jaw to your ear, brushing against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “keep your eyes close, but if you open it just a sliver, i’ll stop, i don’t care if you’re even so close to cumming,” he nipped the skin behind your ear softly, “i’ll stop. got it?”

“okay.”

“good girl,” he smirked against your skin.

he started slowly, undressing your lower half. it was satisfying to see the stringy mess pooling on your underwear, his favourite underwear. he knew just where to slip it, right between your puffy red lips. you could taste yourself through the material, something so lewd you didn’t think kei was into.

depraved of all your senses drove you insane, body shuddering from the littlest touch he gave you. his tongue didn’t stop worshipping your skin, lapping beads of sweat from your collarbone down to the valley of your breasts. frustration crinkled your eyes every time his tongue missed your nipples. your whines muffled through the cloth, jerking your chest forward against his tongue but kei held you down with his tight grip.

“don’t be greedy, you’ll get whatever i give to you,” his lips latched just inch from your aching bud, suckling on the skin until he tasted iron on his tongue. he repeated it more until your chest were fully marked by him but no attention given to what you really want.

fine, he won. you want to beg, you want to please, you want him to give more attention to you. you want to plead with your eyes, batting slowly until he gives you what you want, but kei is serious with his threat most of the time, you don’t want to piss him off. not after the whole tantrum you pulled. that’s why he was taking it slow, chipping your ego slowly until you’re exactly where he wants; babbling mess on his cock.

“you know the talk we had,” he asked, hands gently caressing your thighs, feeling the muscle tensing underneath his palm, spreading your legs further, “about where we see ourselves in 5 years years ago, how i told you i want to settle down with you, i want to see you swell with my child, it would just us perfect little family,” he knew what he was doing was sly, with you grinding against his cock, all he could think about breeding his little stubborn girlfriend.

“5 years from then is next year, i was thinking we could start early. s’many benefit, i could have flexible time, you don’t have to worry about me coming home late. i could be here taking care of you. i just can’t stop thinking about how big your breast would be, you think you’ll let me put a baby in you?” he cooed, you could see the pouty lips that came with his little request. he pulled out the soaked panties and you gasped, desperately gulping air with drools down the side of your face.

“come on, baby,” he kissed your dry lips, caressing your cheeks gently, hips grinding against your bare crotch, “all you have to do is say yes, and i’ll do all the works. you just have to make all those pretty noises for me while i feel you up okay?”

“yes, kei.”

“yes, what?” he smiled, fingers twirling on the end of your loose hair.

you opened your eyes, screw his stupid rules as it bored deep into his lustful eyes, you nodded again, “please put a baby in me.” his own breath hitched as you rested your palm on his bare chest, “i want to have your baby,” you repeat yourself firmly, no hesitation. with your comforter sprawled on the floor, it provided you a temporary comfort as he laid you down. he was quick to undress himself and you found your legs folded up to your chest as he towered over you, rubbing his cock slowly along your drenched slit.

with every stroke his tip caught deliciously on your puffy clit, eliciting more moans from you. he could only the whites of your eyes as his tip found your entrance, slowly slipping in and stretching your muscle to accommodate his length deep in you, clenching him deep. wet lips grazing your calf he grunted, pushing deep until he felt the resistance of your cervix against his tip. “f-fuck, how could you still be this tight,” he whined, ploughing deep in you. the sound of his thighs slamming against the back of yours echoed the room as he picked up his speed.

you were sucking him in, clenching on length only making him thrusts harder sending your back arching in pleasure. pushing your hands upward, he told you to stay still, bunching the shirt upward where your breasts could bounce freely. god you look pretty tied up like this, drools down your chin as you take his cock in well.

your fingers clawed on the sheet underneath, anchoring yourself as you couldn’t stop moaning. every little ah and pleas went straight to his cock and kei’s delirious. maybe it’s the hunger, maybe it’s you begging for baby in your belly, he couldn’t decide on the catalyst to his demise.

he just wants to fill you up.

he pulled your waist, pinning you down closer. blood rushing to your skin where his grip is too tight, you know they’ll be bruises. kei’s into that. he has no shame in marking what belongs to him. he loves visiting you in your office where he could see the bruises peeping from your collars or when you wear the sheer pantyhose in an attempt to hide his hickeys along your thighs. if you hide the one on your thighs, he’ll make sure to return you to the office with a new one on your neck, you couldn’t hide behind layers of clothes all the time.

there’s no reason with tsukishima kei when he said so.

which is why he enjoys your little tantrum. he enjoys putting you back in your place because your stubbornness is nothing to him. if you want to act like a brat, he’ll treat you like one. you can’t expect to be treated like a princess if you can’t even act like one. but today, you just caught him on his wrong side and for that you’ll be his perfect breeding brat.

“slowly, please, ah, kei!” you whined, feeling the new angle ripping you wider. your grip to the comforter was whitening, chest out of breath with every thrust knocking air out of your lung. his hand grabbed one of your breasts, finally rolling your neglected nubs between his rough fingers sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your veins. with another found itself home between your legs, rubbing on your sensitive clit, you couldn’t stand anymore.

“you wanna come again?” he cooed, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, chuckling as you nodded desperately, “nu’uh,” he slowed down, clicking his tongue to your horror, “where’s your manner?”

“please, kei, wanna cum, please,” you cried, jerking your hips upward to meet him halfway.

“beg like you mean it, y/n. you put more enthusiasm in screaming at me, i want to see the same energy,” he sneered, slapping lightly on your clit. your body jolted in pleasure, strangled moans came out of your throat, you weren’t sure what you were babbling about. but through your glassy, lidded eyes, you found his cold eyes matching his sneer that only made your face warmed up. you were a flushing mess, unsure from the humiliation or the sheer need to be fucked till tomorrow but you begged and begged.

“you sure said the prettiest thing when you’re desperate huh, baby.”

his thumb brushed against your trembling lips, you welcomed it on your tongue, sucking slowly eliciting a soft fuck from the blonde. he picked up his pace, with you mewling and sucking on his digit until you snapped, teeth clenching down on his fingers as your orgasm hit you. it broke the skin, beads of blood trickled through. “that feels good?” you nodded, head thrown back, riding through your orgasm as he continued to power through. with every thrust he could see his girth cover in white, glistening in your fluid. pussy still squelching and gushing echoing the small space.

“s’good, you’re such a good girl, i could fill you up for hours,” he pushed down further, face buried in the crooks of your neck as his hips snapped faster. the way he was just mewling and grunting deeply just went straight down your spine. his breath tickling, tongue tracing up until it slipped between your lips. his kiss was sloppy and needy, tongues massaging against another. you swallowed each other’s moans. you hooked your arms around his neck, whining down the aching in your arms.

“s’tired,” you pouted.

“so tired huh?” he chuckled, nuzzling his nose against yours, “i’m sorry, princess but i’m not done yet, nu’uh, no yet,” he rested his forehead against your sweaty head, eyes drooping in pleasure as he pushed deeper, “m’gonna fill you up, baby, so so close.” his fingers buried deep in your hair, gently tugging it as his thrusts became sloppier. your nails buried in the nape of his head, lips tracing along his sharp jaw.

“baby,” kei whined, brows knitted in pleasure as your lips latched right on his sweet spot underneath his jaw, “fu-fuck fuck, baby i want to cum in you. i want to fill you up so badly.”

it didn’t take long for the knot tensing in his belly to snap.

with your wall tensing up, tightening along his sensitive girth providing him a challenge to thrust forward, it was a couple more thrusts until he was shooting ropes after ropes of his thick warm seed deep in your cunt. he clutched desperately on you, heaving against your flushed ear, praises didn’t stop coming from his lips as he jerked slowly into you.

his nose brushed gently against your sweaty cheek, gently kissing you nudging you awake. kei didn’t dare to move out, leaving his dick buried deep inside you as he struggled to catch a breath. until he was sure he had emptied everything deep in your womb, he’s not budging.

“baby, hey,” he cooed, brushing hairs away from your face. your eyes fluttering opened, drowsy glinting in your eyes. you stayed there for awhile, until he was sure everything is nestled deep in you before pulling out.

kei took care of you, pressed close against his bare sweaty skin. he undid the makeshift knot around your wrist, apologizing heavily as he peppered your marked skin with his kisses. “no, i’m sorry. listen, kei, i should’ve been better and understanding,” you clenched your jaws worriedly, tracing patterns along his arms. he shook his head, pressing his lips on top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around your body.

“you’ve done so much, i should’ve been better to you. i promise i’ll be better. i’ll make time for you,” kei brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. a small smile dangled on the corner of his lips, a smile that sent shivers down your spine as he said the next sentences. you didn't miss the seriousness and excitement in his face, kei is serious with his words.

“especially if i’m going put a baby in you. you better not be sick of me being all over you.”

a promise he will keep, sealed with a kiss on your lips.

© all content belongs to noritoshiikamo. do not modify or repost. join the taglist or buy me a ko-fi!

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[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds fanfiction

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨4

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) only plot hehe

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m at my tipping point, I swear. I’m dealing with everything in our household, new bed (delayed delivery yay!), cleaning, cooking, dog walking, and working. My only escape are my fics and this weekend I’m telling everyone to fuck off so I can do the writeathon... but sorry for the rant, enjoy more Clark.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Wednesday trickled by like sand in a glass. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you typed away and a double espresso shot was the only thing that saw you through your hours at the gallery. Vanessa was excited for her next event and already asking after some new pieces from you. You promised her some from your storage unit to stave her off as you held in your yawns. 

You collapsed into bed that night beside Marcus. He complained about his day until he drifted off and you followed suit shortly after. You awoke with a decision, the echoes of your boyfriend’s gripes in your head and heart. You hated how miserable his job made him, how dull your own was. It felt like there was nothing else but the almighty dollar.

You called Clark after an email to Jim, your nerves alight in anticipation of the disgruntled reply. It didn’t matter. You were done. You didn’t need to worry about the all caps messages and curt zoom calls.

“Hey,” Clark picked up, he sounded out of breath.

“Oh, hey, sorry, it’s me,” you swiveled in your chair, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Nope, just getting in a work out,” he grunted, “you’re not bugging me if you have good news for me.”

“I think… I do,” you forced out, “I just sent in my resignation.”

“Mmm, you don’t sound… happy,” he hummed.

“I am, I think I’m just processing it,” you replied, “I said I’d let you know today so I’m letting you know.”

“Well, how soon can you be here?” he asked.

“Today?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I guess, I could leave as soon as you want me,” you said.

“I’ll send a car,” he intoned, “I’ll give the driver your number, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” your voice almost squeaked, “I can do that.”

“Alright, sweetheart, see ya soon.”

The line cut out and you lowered your phone slowly. You stared at Outlook and the new email icon along the taskbar. You closed the laptop and stood. You could worry about the fallout later, right now, you had to get ready for another day of painting.

🎨

It was starting to feel like deja vu every time you arrived at Clark’s house. You got out and thanked the drive, Jeremy, before he drove off. The doors opened before you got to the top of the steps and your host was already dressed in the same outfit he wore for each session. His hair was neat but his beard was even thicker than before.

“I think you can tell I’m a little antsy to start,” he chuckled, “how are you, sweetheart?”

That pet name caught in your mind again. It might just be a habit of his. Nothing more than an absent-minded word.

“Me too, honestly,” you smiled, “but I have a weird question for you.”

“Ask away,” he said as he walked with you through the foyer.

“The beard… you want that in the portrait or--”

“Oh, ha, yeah,” he ran his fingers along his jawline, “I guess I wasn’t thinking. You’re the artist, what do you think?”

“Well, erm, either way is fine,” you said, “I was just… wondering. I’m not even close to starting on, uh, you yet. I mean, right now I’m just working on the background and basic shapes.”

“I’ll let you make the call when you get there,” he said, “say the word and it’s gone.”

“Alright,” you came to the top of the stairs and he pointed you ahead of him.

He followed you as you entered and you went about filling the jar with water and resituating the set up. He sat as you mixed and chose your brush. You climbed the ladder and peered around the canvas at him. He took on the same pose as usual and you dipped the bristles into the pigment. You could make a happy life of this.

🎨

Clark shifted and cleared his throat. You rolled your wrist and glanced back over at him as you drew your hand back from the canvas. He braced the chair and pushed himself up.

“How about a break?” he asked as he shook out his arms, “back’s a bit stiff.”

“Sure,” you said, “I think I could sit down for a moment.”

You took a step down the rung of the ladder but your toe slipped and suddenly your palette was against your chest. You slid down backwards as Clark rushed over and barely kept you from toppling the entire thing over. You laughed at yourself as he righted you and looked down at your paint-streaked shirt.

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“You okay?” he asked as he kept his hand on your upper arm, “be careful.”

“Yeah, I’m-- clumsy, is all,” you carefully pulled away and set down your brush and palette.

“Come on, sit,” he pulled up the stool and planted it before you, “take a minute.”

As you sat, he stretched his arms over his head and then out to the sides. He paced around the other side of the table, long strides as he worked the cramps from his long legs. He stopped and came up to play with a brush as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“Well, I did have another offer for you,” he said, “I was thinking of waiting but might as well ask now.”

“Oh?” you raised your brows curiously.

He swished a slender brush in the air then lowered it and picked at the tip.

“I’m having a get together on Saturday, some business friends and the like,” he said as he set the brush back with the rest, “it won’t be work. You’ve earned some time off. You can even bring the boyfriend.”

“Saturday?” you pondered, “I’m usually at the gallery on Saturdays.”

“It would be great networking,” he said, “and I already told all my friends about you. They’re excited to see your work. It will almost be like a viewing and it’s only right the artist is there.”

“I could make it work,” you mulled, “Marcus would love to come back.” You snickered, “he loves this place.”

“It’s a nice house,” he said casually, “a bit big for one person… hence, the party.”

“I’ll put it in my calendar,” you stood and slid your palette closer and cleaned it off to remix the mess of paints.

“Great,” he said as he rounded the table and brushed close to you, “it’ll be nice to look at a mug besides mine, huh?”

You laughed as you squeezed out the dark paint and nodded, “ha, sure.”

🎨

The rest of your week was spent much the same. Jeremy drove you to Clark’s and you went up to the studio to continue your work between small talk and silences that grew so thick you had to break them with mindless comments. It wasn’t enough to focus on the path of your brush as the man tugged at your attention.

Marcus was excited when you told him about the party. He raved about how he needed to let loose, about how much expensive alcohol he was going to drink, and the awesome backflip he was gonna do into the pool. You reminded him, he hadn’t done anything like that since college but he swore he could still do it.

You didn’t share the sentiment. You were anxious. You were flattered to be invited but despite what Clark said, it still felt like work. His friends were going to be there and he apparently was trying to sell them on your art. 

You didn’t realise until after you hit send on your email, but you put your livelihood in this man’s hands. A man, you reminded yourself, who was little more than a stranger.

On Friday, a day you were thankfully not called to the mansion to teeter on the ladder and paint, the buzzer rang and drew you off the couch from amid your YouTube binge. The man on the speaker called back that he had a delivery and you let him up. You took the box from him, the thick silver ribbon giving away the sender even before you could read the tag.

Inside you found a black dress with little gemstones set into the fabric like stars in the sky. It was nicer than anything you’d ever owned before and a pair of silver shoes were tucked in beneath the outfit. You took the shoes from the tissue paper and something else shifted in the bottom.

You reached in and revealed a velvet box from the depths of overzealous stuffing. You opened the lid and found a simple chain of diamonds. You gaped in disbelief. They were real. The fake ones didn’t look so nice.

You phone chimed before you could even think to call Clark. It was as if he could see you. You answered and your voice warbled pathetically.

“Hi, I was just gonna call,” you touched your throat as it constricted.

“Yeah? I got the notification that it was delivered,” he said, “you like it?”

“It’s too much,” you gulped out, “really, I can’t--”

“I want you to look nice. I want you to feel good and have a good time,” he said, “I feel like you’ve been working so hard. You need a chance to just let it all go.”

“Look, I…” you were uncertain how to handle it. It was more than generosity but you felt wrong denying it as much as you did accepting it, “I’ve never had a boss buy me diamonds. At least let me give those back.”

“Boss?” he mused on the word, “I suppose, but you gotta dress the part now, sweetheart. You’re gonna rub shoulders with a lot of rich dicks like me. Pardon my language.”

“I didn’t realise it was such an upscale thing,” you put the velvet box down and turned to sit on the couch beside the large box. You played with the silver ribbon and chewed your lip.

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing, you got this,” he said, “trust me, if you can win me over, my friends will be child’s play.”

“Mhmmm,” you stared at the tv mindlessly, “Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing all this?”

There was silence and you heard him sigh then a subtle metallic click.

“Because I can. And you’re a talented artist. Didn’t all the big painters used to have patrons back in the day? You know, Da Vinci and all that.”

“Sure, I guess--”

“Look, sweetheart, I’m glad you like the dress, I gotta go.”

He hung up abruptly and you turned your phone to stare at it in confusion. You were starting to get a bad feeling and that little voice in that back of your head, that little sabotaging bitch, whispered in your ear. No, you wouldn’t let your self-doubt get the best of you this time. You either grabbed this chance or you spent the rest of your life doing menial work and painting the world as it passed you by.

🎨

Friday night, Marcus couldn’t stop rambling about the party the next day. You just couldn’t get over the tickle in your chest, the same one you got before job interviews and doctor’s appointments. You were on edge, even as you spent your stress on him, your body writhing against his as you panted and pouted. It had been a while since you fucked. All the work and the stress had just let things slip past you. Maybe with your new gig, you could get back to those early days when it was all you wanted to do.

You slept soundly. You blamed the sex and the momentous week. You got up, had a lazy brunch time meal, and beat Marcus at MarioKart several times over before he convinced you it was time to get ready. 

You pulled on the gifted outfit after fighting with your make-up and hair. You gave a little tada spin to Marcus and he lifted his brow as he tried to figure out his tie.

“Wow, where’d you get that?” he purred, “fuck, let’s be late.”

He ran his hands over your hips as you neared him and fixed his tie for him. You giggled and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Jeremy’s on his way,” you warned, “I don't wanna bite the hand that feeds.”

“Oh, and it feeds you well,” Marcus chirped, “you think he’ll let me have a spin in the McClaren?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t. I don’t need to scrape you off the side of the road,” you took your phone as the screen lit up, “come on, he’s here.”

“Fuck, babe, really, you’re gonna make me follow you out of here with your ass looking like that?”

“Stop,” you tittered, “you know, there might be more sellers tonight?”

“Oh yeah? I guess you’ll be paying a mortgage soon enough.”

“Me?” you scoffed.

“Sure, I’ll be your sugar baby,” he kidded.

“Well, baby is accurate,” you teased as you stepped onto the elevator, “please, just behave.”

🎨

You were surprised to see Vanessa at the party but reassured to see a familiar face. Clark had been distracted by his other guests and you did your best to mingle, letting Marcus take the lead until he was distracted by another guest’s Rolex and started asking too many questions. If you did start selling art to these kinds, you suspected you’d be paying for a lot of overpriced brands. That was a worry for another time.

You stood with Vanessa and a man she introduced you to. Bruce Wayne was tall and his dark-hair was combed back neatly as he spoke over the glass of wine in his hand. You were bored of the Monet-Manet argument, one you’d heard a million times from the stubborn gallery owner, and you were at your limit of socialisation.

You excused yourself and put down your unfinished drink on a table. You looked around but couldn’t see Marcus anywhere. The last you saw him, he was with Clark but you couldn’t find him either. You frowned and wandered between the pairs and trios gabbing around the room.

Just past the bar, you looked back and still no sign of either man. You huffed and your heels clicked into the foyer and to the stairs. You’d go to the studio and sit for a moment and collect yourself. You just needed to take a breath.

You climbed the stairs slowly, the din of the party floating up behind you. You came to the top but stopped as your eyes were drawn to a pair of open doors opposite the studio. You neared and stayed against the wall as you peeked inside. Marcus admired an old-six shooter and spun the barrel.

“You got everything, man, I swear,” you hid behind the door frame and listened.

“Eh, it’s all just things,” Clark replied, “I bought that from an auctioneer down in Texas. A verified antique but it just hangs here. Not good for much but looking at it.”

“Dude, what I wouldn’t do to live here? Have cool guns and even cooler cars? Shit, you know how fucked it is that my lady is making bank and I’m over here with my dick in my hands? I mean, I’m proud of her but… I mean, if I could get paid thousands for drawing, I would’ve tried to learn.”

“She’s good. Dedicated,” Clark remarked, “she’s special. Worth more than money.”

Marcus hummed and you heard the barrel click back into the place. Neither of the men spoke as you heard something shift and Clark cleared his throat. Subtle footsteps moved around the room and you pressed yourself to the wall. You should leave and let them talk but you couldn’t help but be curious.

“Isn’t she?” Clark prodded.

“Y-yeah, but… I don’t know. I just wish I had more,” Marcus said, “I probably sound like a chump, huh?”

“You can’t have it all,” Clark replied.

“Says the guy who can buy anything and everything,” Marcus moped.

“Oh?” Clark intoned, “so… how about it then? Fifty thousand.”

“For what?” Marcus chuckled nervously.

“Her,” Clark answered.

“Her-- I… my girlfriend?” he sputtered.

“If money can buy me anything, that’s what I want,” Clark said firmly, “it’s a one time offer… whether or not you agree to it, I’m gonna fuck her.”

You skin crawled at his words and you covered your mouth in disgust and shock. You inched closer to the door to hear better as you waited for the response.

“One hundred,” Marcus said.

“Seventy-five,” Clark countered.

“That’s my girlfriend, dude,” Marcus hissed.

“And yet you’re haggling with me over her. Eighty.”

You tore yourself from the wall before you could hear anymore. You felt hollow and heavy all at once. Your eyes were glossy as you scurried over to the studio doors and pushed the left one open. You unhooked the diamond necklace and tossed it onto the paint-stained palette and rolled up your brushes.

You stormed over blindly to the easel and pushed it over. It clattered to the floor loudly but you were already out the door and halfway down the stairs. You gripped your clutch and the bundle of paintbrushes tightly as you continued on outside and the blurred outlines of luxury cars passed you by. 

You stomped up the long drive in your heels as you flicked away tears and pulled out your phone. You knew it was too good to be true. Any of it; your art, Clark, Marcus. You weren’t good for anyone unless they could get something out of you.

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