#it's also probably because gifs are received often better than most of my works and it makes me wonder...y'all are really here... honestly..

[kaeddehara]

DIRTY PICTURES AT WORK — NSFW

[ tighnari + cyno + al haitham ]

♱ warnings — cursing + mild nsfw + bondage

♱ notes — minus kaveh :(( ; lowkey rushed because school is kicking my ass right now

| TIGHNARI |

tighnari is almost even on his phone even after working hours. he doesn’t see a need for it but nevertheless still keeps it on him. sometimes he’ll receive messages or emails and chooses to ignore them when he doesn’t even know who they’re from yet. but there are occasions when he does have a break and he’ll look to see if anything is urgent or needs his attention. but when he sees messages from you or specifically pictures, he can’t help but wonder what that could mean. he hastily opens up your messages only a reveal a couple pictures of you on his bed only covered with some very thin fabric he could only assume was a new set of lingerie you’d gotten to wear.

“i know you don’t check your phone much at work so we can have an even better time when you get home <3”

he’s more than happy he’s alone not only so he wouldn’t get caught, but also to cover the obvious blush lining his face. his long, pointed ears are probably flushed at the point too. his eyes scan the images you sent again and he can’t ignore the way his cock is hardening at the sight of your pretty body. he made sure to send you a message quickly complimenting you, already so anxious for your response. he made sure to save those pictures to his phone so he could go get rid of the problem you gave him in the restroom. trying to hard to keep his embarrassing, pathetic sounds to himself while stroking his pretty cock to the sight of you. all the while, he’s mumbling to himself about how he’s gonna treat you when he gets home <3.

| CYNO |

cyno actually doesn’t even use his phone. he won’t look at it unless you or someone else tells him to. chances are, he can’t even work it that well because of how often he’s not on it. so you when decide to send him some pictures of your cute tits only being cupped by a thin piece of fabric with a sweet message about how you miss him, he has no idea about it until you mention it. you’re all excited when he gets home and ask cyno how his day was and all those little questions you always do. it’s only until you ask if he saw the pictures you sent earlier that he gets confused and shakes his head no. you huff in annoyance but the second he goes to check right in front of you, you can’t help but smile at the shock on his face. he scans those pictures and message so hard you’d think he brain had stopped working for a minute or something. it isn’t too long before he throws his phone to the side and pushed you down against the nearest piece of furniture to have his way with you. making sure to cup your pretty tits while humming apologies and also some questions about why you’d send him that during work unless you’re just asking for it.

“you can’t even wait till i’m home is that it? you want me to get hard at work just so i can punish you?”

and you want nothing more than to being just a smile in that moment with cyno pressing his lips right against yours to keep you from responding so he can have you right now and make up for what he missed.

| AL-HAITHAM |

al haitham is always pretty tedious about how he goes about most things. work or just mundane acts he always does with precision and focus. when he does have some downtime however, most of it is actually spent messaging you or responding to emails that he may have gotten while on the job. hes very good about keeping his business personal and too himself and that makes no difference when you send him certain messages. at first, al haitham doesn’t know how to react whatsoever. he’s practically in awe of the dirty messages you sent along with those pictures of you freshly out of the shower in whatever sort of sensual position you want him to see you in.

“keep working hard and you’ll have a reward when you get home <3”

he deeply exhaled and tried to cover the blushing mess that was his face. it wasn’t long before his break was soon over and he had to get back to work. all the while, his mind would not stop thinking and imagining all the things he would do to you when he got home. maybe some punishment was due just because you thought sending him pictures like that when you knew he was working. he decided to respond to your message as to not leave you hanging, waiting for his answer.

“you’d look better with some rope wrapped around those wrists and thighs”

he knew he sounded so serious but also considered how much you enjoyed his serious tone he’d use when he meant something.

“why not show me when you get home kay?”

he had to turn his phone over at all the perverted thoughts filling his mind every second. all because you wanted to send him those pictures in the middle of his working ours WHILE there were others around. you were in for such a harsh punishment when he got home.

#kaeddehara #genshin smut #tighnari smut #cyno smut #al haitham smut #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #al haitham x reader #tighnari genshin #genshin cyno #al haitham genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #rumi writing ^•ﻌ•^ฅ #rumi thoughts ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ #☕️ #🗡️

[helluvabossrewrite45]

Hey. I've seen some of your rewrite of Helluva Boss scenes and I really like them. I enjoy how you fixed the issues with the writing and how incredibly spectacular your writing of the improved dialogue within the scenes are.

Honestly, I feel inspired by your work. I have an idea for my own Helluva Boss rewrite where I not only fix issues the show has (ex. tonal shifts, inconsistencies & plot holes, worldbuilding issues, etc), but also integrate my HB OCs into my rewrite (ex. my main HB OC Alice Lola (Ally for short), who is an assassin at I.M.P. and an aspiring writer).

I was wondering if I could ask you this: do you have any advice & tips you could give for who have an idea for starting an HB rewrite, or a rewrite in general? I ask out of curiosity as an aspiring writer myself.

Feel free to respond back when you get the chance. Thank you and have a wonderful day/afternoon/night. Keep up the great work! 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻 🤗💕❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💖💕🤗

Thank you, im glad you enjoy my rewrites and of course, I can offer up some advice for rewrites;

I think one of the best things in writing a rewrite is that you can use these minor details the piece your rewriting has and use them to you advantage. For example, I noticed that Octavia listens to music whenever she hears her parents arguing or at the dinner table where her parents would be and probably would have at least some awkward tension so from rewriting seeing stars, I use that minor detail to highlight her character and her arc of using music or the moon festival to ignore her problems even though it clearly doesn't help. It also contrast with Loona in my rewrite ignoring her problems that she later acknowledges and the two would open up, closing the character arcs in a nice neat bow. Another would be that Millie is often depicted as either moxxie's wife or a murder machine and from the little time we see with her and her family, I rewrote millie growing up having to be in her sisters shadow and just wanting to be her own person instead as inferior or someone's tool. This would establish why she has a rivalry with her sister while also giving her more character for her to be explored (which we should've gotten from harvest moon tbh), Any details you find in helluva can be a tool for you to explore whether it be for the characters, world etc...

Something that even I learned is that when rewriting, you gotta plan what your gonna do with the characters, with the worldbuilding you establish, with all of these plots/ideas your rewriting. Most of the problems helluva has is because vivziepop didnt plan the show out until season 2 rolled around and if we wanna rewrite the show to be better, we ourselves cant make the same mistakes. If you already started the rewrite however, i suggest you look back on the rewrite your already doing for as much as you can to remember in order to not fall into the same mistake the show itself has

When planning an oc into rewrites, I think the main thing is to ask what are they doing here, what purpose do they serve to the plot and what is their character overall (their motive, personality, character arc, likes, dislikes, relationship with the characters, how they bounce off to the other characters etc...)

As another aspiring writer who has a lot of original stories in the works (there's even an original story inspired by helluva boss and some of my rewrite ideas for it), I think its important to approach criticism as a helpful tool rather than an insult. Especially when its rewrites. I always want whatever I'm writing to at least be of decent quality and is regularly curious of how people would react to my original stories still in the works so receiving it and even given criticism for it can help, you know? Since you have an established audience and them offering criticism can be your tool that you can use to improve. It should be noted though that their is a difference between criticism and personal bias/subjectivity. For example, if someone wanted to point out a plot hole or a mistake in your work, that's criticism you can use. But if someone just tells you to go touch grass for your rewrite or something like that, then its not criticism, that's personal bias/opinion they have of rewrites in general so it offers nothing you can use to improve it.

That's all I got so far, I hope this helps!

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #helluva critique #helluva criticism #helluva boss rewrite #ask #anon

[that-lame-ghoul9000]

Maybe a shower smut with eddie ? 😗

April Showers 🌧

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Its the beginning of track season at Hawkins High. And while your boyfriend is super supportive(from under the bleachers) of your athletic choices, you can't deny practice has taken up way to much of your time. And Eddie intends to make up for lost time.

Word count: 3.3k 😳🥲

TW: SMUT 18+ MINORS GO TOUCH SOME GRASS, DONT INTERACT, established relationship, Shower sex, semi public sex (girls locker room), its a quicky that feels like forever because im a slut for getting carried away rambling. Im sorry. swearing, Unprotected sex it's not stated but reader is on birth control. Just pretend. (don't be silly, wrap your willy. A pregnancy test is one Etch-a-sketch that can't be undid homeskillet) -Oral- (m receiving) Spit. He spits in readers mouth. Pet names(baby or babe i can't remember, princess & sweetheart) probably forgot something. If I did please tell me.

This is so unedited. And written. Late at night.

A/n: 1.) Thank you so much for requesting this. I was so exited exited write it.  With that said:

This is my first published work containing smut. Use lube and go easy on me I'll get better I swear. Give me feedback. Give me all the feedback.

2.)I never ran track. I don't know track season. So I'm sorry if this isn't accurate. I Googled HS track season and it said (training began oct-nov, with actual season being feb-may) and I just REALLY liked the title I picked. So sue me 🤣 and let me live in my fantasy world where after i had a choice I stopped participating in sports. Okay love you byeeee 😘

I do not give permission to have this posted anywhere else. (You'll only find it here and on my AO3 which is the same username) Please don't take my work. Ive worked hard on it and I'd like to continue doing it.

You were a good student. Reliable. Trustworthy. Responsible. Just a few adjectives thrown around by the faculty at Hawkins High. Which is why your guidance counselor and track coach had absolutely no problem giving you a spare key to the school gym and locker room only asking you clean up after yourself and lock up when you're done. Something you've been doing since last school year. You had a tendency to practice in the early hours of the morning. It was cool out. Quiet, with no one there to bother you. No overly horny teenage boys with way to much time on their hands and nothing better to do than yell scandalous risqué remarks at their classmates of the opposite sex simply because their little under developed, sex riddled, cavemen brains couldn't comput farther than: "Girls" "Shorts=ass" and running in a tee shirt was the closest half of them would ever get to seeing boobs bounce. Give them a few years. They may grow out of it.

For that late reason alone you preferred morning runs on the track. Reserving the after school evenings for team practice. Where you'd still try hard. But not hard enough to elicit said comments.

It's almost the end of April and most, if not all, of your time has been spent on this track. You began as soon as the leaves started falling in mid October at the indoor gym at the request of your coach. But it was a drive. Which is what prompted you to ask to use the gym in the mornings last year once it got semi warm enough to begin using the outdoor track.

If you weren't on the track you had your nose shoved in some AP class workbook. Grades were very important to you. Just as important as sports. As they went hand in hand. This unfortunately meant skipping out on plans with your friends. Often.

Which also meant having to "rain check" dates with your boyfriend. Claiming

"Unless you're going to throw 'Study' in front of that 'date' word, we're going to have to give it a rain check."

Now you'd think most guys would love a good 'Study' date. Not your boyfriend. It's as if the word itself was dipped in holy water and burned him simply thinking about it. Which is funny considering who he is. That's right. Little Ms. Straight A's Sporty McSportsPants boyfriend was none other than the infamous Devil worshiping, master of the occult, every parents worst nightmare for their sweet baby, friendly neighborhood bad boy.

Eddie. Mother fucking. Munson.

And although his chocolate button, puppy dog eyes were so close to making you say "fuck it" and toss your books in the air. You had to be the level headed responsible one of you both. Easier said than done. You'd not hadn't had much time together in months. Aside from the half hour at lunch, Mrs. O'Donnell's class (which she conveniently had you both on separate ends of the classroom) the few minutes after practice you got before having to rush home for dinner, and a night filled with homework. Your time together was really few and far between. And while it made you both sad, Eddie would still find cute ways to keep you from getting discouraged. From cute notes of encouragement in your locker on days you'd have track meets. (Especially the ones you were nervous about) Throwing rocks at your window after your parents had gone to bed to get some time in with you till you fell asleep. Even if it was only 10 minutes. And sometimes if you looked real close you'd see him under the bleachers cheering you on. You really couldn't understand why everyone thought the awful things they did about him.

On this particular morning it was cool out. Slightly windy. And very overcast. The gray sky looking like it would give way to rain at a moments notice. You almost opted to not practice this morning. But you had a big meet coming up this Saturday and there was no way you were losing. You pulled your Hawkins High Tigers hoodie off exposing your skin to the cool air. Letting out a shiver you jogged to the track. Looking at your watch

5:30am (this should be illegal)

Setting your alarm for 6:30, giving yourself exactly one hour before you needed to head to the locker room and hit the shower. Kids would start arriving by 7:30. This would give you the perfect amount of time to Shower, dry your hair and drop your clothes in your locker before grabbing a muffin and heading to class.

You begin running your laps and time just runs away with you. Though you're not racing a physical person you feel a sense of competition. You're racing time. And time is racing you.

~~~~♤~~~~~♡~~~~~♤~~~~

You made it 30 minutes in before you heard it. The soft low rumble of the incoming thunder announcing the imminent approaching storm. The wind began to pick up as well. Not that you'd complained it helped keep you cool for the most part.

Deciding not to chance it you run off to the bleachers and grab your bookbag along with your duffle that had your change of clothes, shampoo, towel and all important keys that granted you access to the areas of the school you needed. And with that you jogged to the school building.

As you reach the girls locker room you head into the shower room and turn the water on allowing it enough time to heat up. You exit back to the locker room and begin to remove your shoes and socks. But just as you're getting to your shorts you hear the door open. Causing you to pause.

"Hello? This room is currently being used."

Nothing.

"If there's someone in here you have exactly 3 seconds to make yourself known or I'll borrow Bethany's softball bat. And ive been told I've got a pretty good swing." You yell out.

"I'd love to see you swing a bat. Bet it be hot as hell."

You jump, turning on a heel to face the intruder. He's smirking at you from under that beautiful mess of hair.

"Edward Alan Munson, I can and I will if ever do that again. What are you doing here?" you ask confused. Knowing this man isn't known for getting up early.

"Firstly, just because Wayne let it slip the one night he came home early and saw us making out on the couch, doesn't mean my middle name is available for public use. Even if it's from someone as cute as you. And it is super cute when you use it in your 'I'm so serious tone." he boops your nose.

"Secondly, I knew you'd be here even if a tornado threatened to rip the school down to its foundation because you have your meet against Greenwood on Saturday and, for reasons I'll never understand in the world of sports, you'd rather die than let them win this year."

You rolled your eyes with a smile at his comment. It was a true statement.

"And thirdly, I'll take any time I can get with you." He smirks dropping his jacket and vest all in one go. "You just say the word. It's always better to shower with a friend. Conserve water you know. Great for the planet. Wouldn't want you to slip in there." His brain thinking of more excuses. But he's cut off as soon as he sees you slowly walk backward toward the showers pulling your shirt off and winking at him before dropping your shorts, grabbing your shampoo & body wash and walking through the door. And he's so quick to shed the rest of what's in the way almost falling and breaking his neck trying to get his jeans off. With a final tug his shirt falls to the ground and he's running after you like a kid in a candy store to the showers.

You were already under the water, in an attempt to try and at least was your body before all hell broke loose, when you feel his hands slowly snake around your hips a he pulls you closer to him. Until you feel his skin against yours. And his very prominent hard on pressed against your back. A shiver of excitement pulses through you in every direction as he slowly sweeps his hands across your body. Agonizingly slow. You lean your head back against his chest and he let's out a chuckle.

"Someone seems a little stressed." He says into your ear in a breathy voice that has your legs turning to jello. His hands feather light skimming across your breasts. So light you might have missed it if weren't for him adding the slightest of weight to his hand as he circled your nipper.

You felt yourself begin to relax under his touch. A breathy moan as you say his name,

"Eddie."

The verbal action making his cock twitch against your back.

"Yes Princess." He teased.

"Touch me, please."

"I am touching you." He laughed.

What he'd give to take his time with you. He'd have you so relaxed to the point you'd forget your own name. Only remembering his because he'd have you screaming it repeatedly. But he knew you were both on borrowed time so he cut to the chase.

"Okay sweetheart but only because you asked so nicely." He kissed the side of you temple as his hands moved lower and lower. Till he was still semi teasing you by gently rubbing your legs.

"Edd-" you didn't even get his name out before he said

"Let's see just how excited you are for me" and dipping his middle and ring finger to swipe through your slick folds.

Eliciting a moan that could only be described by Eddie as what the heavens must sound like.

"Jesus baby, even you can't play this one off as shower water. You're absolutely soaked." He said softly biting your ear. You're a mess, as he slides his fingers up slowly till he finds your clit and begins running soft figure eights into the little nub. Not enough to do to much but enough to get you more worked up.  If it wasn't for Eddie holding you up right now you'd fall to the floor.

Which gives you an idea. Since you're kinda on a time crunch. You pull his hand away, even though it pained you to do it. Turn around, and grab his face before he can protest bridging the gap you've caused between you two for the most intense kiss to ever exist at 6:48 in the morning. A clashing of teeth and tongue but only for a brief moment.  Because before the boy in front of you could register the series of events unfolding in front of him you drop to your knees looking up at him through wet lashes (which he's now moved to the top of his list of 'hottest images of my girlfriend burned into my brain to date')

Giving a slight devilish smile before running your hands delicately over his things in almost the same slow, agonizing pace he was teasing you with not moments ago.

Throwing his head back you hear him mutter a "fuuuuuck me" to which you replied "oh trust me i plan to" as you grasp his length in your left hand and begin stroking a few times. Making sure to run your thumb over his aching tip that's beading with pre-cum to gather it and as he looks down you stick in your mouth to suck off. A sort of pre-warning. One that he can barely handle. And with a pop you remove your thumb replacing back on his aching cock, pumping once. Twice. Thrice before giving the prominent vein under his cock a lick from base to tip finally taking as much of him in as you possibly could. Thank God for the wall behind him because he throws his head back and becomes one with the wall thrusting his hand into your hair and gathering it to keep it out of your face.

"F-Fuckin hell. You are so damn good at that. God's baby who knew such a good girl could have such a bad mouth."

The moan you release sending sweet vibrations to parts of him he didn't know existed. Its all going to his head. And rather quickly. You begin pumping what you can't fit as you continue bobbing your head up and down at a pace Eddie has deemed 'fucking perfect'.

"God baby if you keep up like this I won't last much longer." He looks down.

You look up at him with doe eyes through lashes coated in tiny water droplets. He's died and gone to heaven. He feels his release nearing and he's quick to remove himself before he does. Lifting you up to your feet.

"As much as I'd love to cum down your throat. Let's I don't know rain check it," He jests, 'because right now I want to fuck you up against," He paused looking at the 3 available walls in this shower wall eliminating the one with the knobs and shower head, "that wall. But first open, since i know you were so looking forward to having my cum run down your throat. Here's a substitute." He quickly takes his middle and ring finger, swiping them up your soaking cunt, returning them to his mouth to quickly suck and savor how you taste on his tongue. He taps your jaw and your quick to open for him. As he spits a mixture of your slick and his spit into your mouth.

"Swollow." He doesn't have to ask twice. And because he can't help himself his mouth is quick to seek out yours in a passionate kiss filled with teeth, tongue and the fact this will be way faster than either of you want it to be. Suddenly he's tapping your thighs signaling you to jump and you do. Your back is met with the cool stall wall as Eddie is quick to line himself up with your center. There's no slowness anymore. You've all but run out of time, students would start arriving soon. And from previous moments with Eddie you both came to the realization, you weren't quiet. And you couldn't be even if you wanted to.

As he slides in you let out a pornagraphic moan and let your head fall back against the wall. Legs wrapping around his waist, one arm half hazardly drapped around his neck the other holding his shoulder. He stretches you out perfectly. And you fit him just as well.

"F-fuckin hell you're so goddamn tight. Just sucking my cock in. God I can feel you tightening around me."

You rock your hips a little to signal he's okay to move. And boy does he move. He slowly begins to piston in and out of you. Breathing heavy as the shower water falls down like the impending rain. It's probably raining right now. He begins kissing down your jaw to your neck getting to your collar bone where he begins sucking and biting, just a small mark. He likes looking at them later.

You're a moaning, swearing mess. Praying no one hears anything and decides to come looking to make sure a student isn't hurt. Which would be very awkward and extremely frustrating as you can feel that coil in you winding up, so close to snapping. And as if on cue Eddie snaps his hips up in such a way he hits that magic button and just like that his name tumbles out of your mouth. The only name you'll remember for the rest of the day.

Eddie.

RIGHT THERE

Eddie!

EDDIEEEEE

FUCK EDDIE DONT STOP

IM GONNA CU-

He continues his pistoning into that spot with everything he has in him. He's chasing his high and yours. His free hand snakes down to rub on your bundle of nerves in such a perfect way that he has you coming undone in seconds. Following behind you moments later. He slows his thrusting down as you ride out your highs. You rest your forehead on his as you both try to slow your eradicate breathing.

After a moment he pulls out of you slowly, trying his best not to make you uncomfortable. Still holding onto you because you currently have the legs and dexterity of a newborn deer. He kisses your nose as he reaches over and puts some shampoo in his hand returning to massage it into your hair.

"God he's perfect." You think to yourself with a small giggle.

"And whats, pray tell does the lady find funny." He smirks.

"You give me an mind altering orgasm. And now you're washing my hair. It's just cute is all."

"I'm making up for lost time. I believe you have at the very least 30 more coming your way in the near future. Not all at once. But I'm sure I can pull a few out of you with each of our upcoming 'Study' dates. I do need to pass Mrs. O'Donnell's class if i want to walk that stage with you. And I fully intend to." He winks. His statement making you're eyes widen and a blush fall across your cheeks.

"As long as we actually study first Edward Ala-" He cuts you off with quick kiss tilting your head back enough allow the water to wash the shampoo away without it getting into your eyes.

"I recall mentioning the ban of using my full name. But I'll excuse it this time as your brain is still probably a bit to fried." He smiles giving your forehead a quick kiss. And then you hear it. Your watch alerting you that it's 7:30. Fuck you'd have no time to dry your hair. Both mentally cursing the beeping noise, Eddie turns off the water.

"I'll go out first. And quickly get dressed. I'll set your clothes in here on the bench." You give him a kiss as he nods at your plan.

You grab your towel and quickly wrap yourself. Walking fast into the locker room. Pulling your clothes out. Sliding on all the articles. As quickly as you could without paying attention.

Trying to use the towel to dry your hair as best you could before running a brush through quickly and tossing it into a ponytail.

You run to gather all of Eddie's clothes and then set them on the bench.

"The towels a bit wet but it's here too. I'll see you in a minute." You smile as you hear the stall unlock.

Grabbing your bag you make sure the coast is clean before waiting outside the girls locker room door. A few moments later Eddie emerges.

"Hey sweetheart, come here often." He winks at you. Making you giggle.

"Occasionally. Do you?"

"I sure as hell might start coming more often." He grabs your backpack from your shoulder slinging it over his are before throwing his free arm around your shoulder.

"What do you say we go find our rowdie band of weirdos. They can't be left alone for too long. Especially not with Henderson.

"Okay let's go find your freshman children." You say, lacing your fingers in the hand draped around your shoulder. "I'd hate to think what weird heated conversation topic Dustin has Mike and Gareth. Kid gets a level over passionate about many things." Causing both of you you break out laughing.

"It's his tone. I swear it's his tone." Eddie breathes out. As you approach the cafeteria you look outside.

Just like you thought it's absolutely pouring out.

"Eddie." You whisper into his ear at a sudden realization before finding everyone at the table.

"Hmm" He looks at you puzzled.

"Eddie. We're both wet. They'll know why I am. But you never this awake this early. This," you look him up and down before finishing, "wet. They're going to know."

As he looks out the window.

He looks back at you with a smirk.

"I'd blame it on the rain. But I doubt they'd believe me."

April Showers is an understatement.

#eddie munson owns me #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #they knew exactly what they were doing #nah. team eddie munson can fuck me up any day that ends in y #shower smut with Eddie Munsons #its filth pure filth #izzy's asks #anon ask #anon submission

[lifmera]

hello! I saw you did Hazbin Hotel matchups and thought I’d request one! You’re my first request, and based off of what I’ve seen so far, I’m happy you are :) Take your time and get to me when you can!

I’m 19, my pronouns are She/Her and I’m lesbian. I haven’t been in one yet, but I’d be open to a Polyamorous relationship. I’m a Sagittarius (December 13). I have black, wavy hair that goes to my shoulders. I dress in a grunge style. I LOVE converse high tops, chains, chokers, and black cargo/sweat pants. Depending on how I feel, I wear chunky rings, always silver. I don’t wear much makeup, but if I do, it’s usually just eyeliner and mascara. Sometimes I do some more fancy eyeliner depending on the occasion. I’m 5’3.

I’m the therapist in my friend group. I tend to put their feelings and needs before my own. I don’t really care how I feel as long as I keep the peace. My emotions jump all over the place. Most of the time, I’m quiet and reserved. I can get easily irritated, though, if provoked. I also have severe anxiety. I tend to lean on the pessimistic side, but not always. I’m absolutely horrendous at comforting people in person, but over texts, I’m great at it. I have an extremely dirty mouth, and constantly use it around my friends. I have dark humor, which only some of my friends laugh with me at, so I don’t make jokes too often in case I get silence. I dislike people who judge others at first glance or because of rumors they hear. Honesty and loyalty is a big thing for me. I make jokes about things that bother me. I struggle with talking about my feelings. I can forget to take care of myself at times, especially when I have what I call my “down days”, which is the days I have when everything feels hopeless, and I can’t get out of bed.

My love languages are giving and receiving quality time, acts of service, and words of affirmation.

Music is my absolute best friend. It helps me to express my emotions without them coming out of my own mouth. I love watching and reading horror movies and books, I crochet, and I love sitting out in the rain or going out into the woods. I play both acoustic and electric guitar, and my favorite bands/singers are Mother Mother, Djerv, Ghost, Jack Stauber, and Penelope Scott. I love doing art, mainly rough sketches and traditional art. My favorite games are TLoU and RDR2. I love the shows Arcane League of Legends and Hazbin Hotel (obviously).

Thanks if you get around to me! I hope this is enough :) Have a nice day/night!!

Hi Hun!!

You aswell 🩷

I think Velvette works too.

I’ve decided to pair you up with …. LUTE!

I think when she first saw you she definitely questioned you. Like- “why are u in heaven when you dress like you belong in hell..”

Can she even talk though? Girl…..

Lute tends to keep her emotions under control. But its stressful. Adam can be so annoying…

Lute honestly is also pretty pessimistic- but if she sees her gf being pessimistic? She’d force you into anything you enjoy. She can’t stand seeing you upset. It hurts her heart!

I think she wouldn’t mind though. She never talks much about herself.

She definitely would not care about how much you curse. Adam has probably said worse.

She’d probably like dark jokes. She probably hasn’t heard one before- and snickered when she did.

Lute is HUGE ON HONESTY AND LOYALTY!!!! She will love you forever. 🩷

Honestly Lute would join you on down days. She needs a break. Away from her duties and just everything. She’d want to take care of you though! She cant have you upset!

I think Lute is also big on Quality time. She feels like she doesn’t get enough because she’s constantly working, so she tries to make up for it by buying you gifts!

She definitely loves music too. You would 100% drag her down with you into your music rabbit hole. She’d probably end up humming Ghost all day.

She LOVES when you play the electric guitar. In her head she’d think you are better than Adam- but won’t say it out loud.

She definitely loves that you crochet!! She’d wear whatever you made her. Or maybe any plushies??

I don’t think it rains in heaven, or hell for that matter- but if she went down to earth i think she’d love the patter of rain hitting against the top of the car!!! It’d relax her :)

~~~

I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY?!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin nifty #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin lucifer #hazbin art #hazbin vox #hazbin vees #hazbin spoilers #hazbin adam #hazbin lute #hazbin emily #hazbin sera #hazbin carmilla #hazbin rosie

[merkavahpartyvan]

Talking to scientist ghosts from the modern era

So, for the last... year and a half or so, I've been (largely unknowingly) exposed to enough methane gas to cause someone to have massive distress and very vivid, often anxiety-fueled hallucinations, many of which were beyond anything I've ever experienced in my life. And that goes for the other occupants of the house. This was like when a whole town gets mass hysteria without realizing it because their wheat got ergot in it. There were a lot of times that I couldn't really tell what normal was or couldn't realize that I wasn't having a sane life experience.

The thing is, while this was happening, I was also practicing a lot of magic and doing a lot of spirit work. So you know those initiations where you do a lot of some hallucinogenic herb and then receive visions of the cosmos and learn to talk to spirits and animals and connect with some sort of spirit companion or guide? Well I did a lot of that, because I was sort of stuck in the house with nowhere to go, a lot of magic books, a lot of art supplies, and the ability to predict when a specific nuclear scientist's estate went on auction on ebay. I now own basically his entire nuclear papers and library.

So like now I talk to a nuclear scientist's ghost on a regular basis. Now that I'm in the new house WITHOUT the magic stinky gas in it... I can hear him BETTER.

I don't really know how to talk about Jerry and the experience I've had communicating with him, but I do want to talk about it. Not to prove anything, but to share a kind of experience that I don't think a lot of people are able to openly share these days, for fear of stigma. Honestly, after all the weird crap I've said on this blog, sometimes under gaseous influence, I think you all can take me going on about protons for a bit.

Jerry likes to explain his favorite science to me a lot, so I hear him go on about newtonian physics, astrophysics, particle physics... and philosophy too, since he got his degrees back in the days when nuclear physics was in the philosophy department. It's part of why I keep watching so many science videos and talking so much about nuclear stuff on my blogs. He's really interesting and he's helped me do research much faster than I think I would have managed on my own. He used to design nuclear submarine propulsion systems and he also had a specialization in how crystals form on an atomic level, so in my opinion he was probably one of the most interesting people on the planet when he was alive.

Nowadays he's a very interesting ghost who wants to teach me (and anyone else who will listen) about how hard it is to hit a proton when you need/have to. Also he can rattle off quite a lot on nuclear policy and diplomacy and he keeps telling me which companies in the nuclear space are just hyping theoretical models instead of actually having a working prototype. Every time I look up what he says it's correct. (After research I personally wouldn't invest in NuScale. This is not financial advice. I am not a financial professional and Jerry was not either.)

The thing is, there should be a lot of ghosts out there like Jerry. Not just because nuclear stuff makes you psychically weird and therefore more likely to project a force ghost (or whatever astrals are), but because all manner of sciences came about in the turn of the 1900s and their degree programs solidified in the early decades of the 1900s. So there should be a lot of ghosts out there who know like, 'modern' science. And other people besides me must be talking to them.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

NSFW Headcanons~ Evil Ted

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous who is so so right for this)

(Not these headcanons being objectively better than my real Ted headcanons. Maybe I’ll revise them at some point, who knows.)

- I think it’s safe to say that Ted hasn’t been “alive” for very long and certainly hasn’t been spending his time having sex with different girls. But I also don’t think that he’s totally clueless: it’s pretty clear that he knows what sex is so I think we can assume that he’s been programmed to know what he’s doing. You might not be in good hands, but you certainly aren’t wasting your time.

- I don’t think it’s very controversial to say that he prefers receiving rather than giving and isn’t particularly concerned with your pleasure; at least when it doesn’t directly benefit him. He is evil after all. Don’t be surprised when he asks for head and asks for it often; usually in a very unceremonious and expectant way.

- That being said: he doesn’t refuse to pleasure you; especially if he really wants to get in your pants. He even finds himself enjoying it on occasion; particularly when you sit on his face or let him use his hands. He definitely prefers fingering you over anything else: usually before putting his fingers in your mouth or putting them in his own, sucking off the taste of you with a lustful grin before pulling you in for a kiss.

- Foreplay really isn’t common and when it is used, it’s typically very rushed. He just does whatever he can to get into your pants as quickly as possible; so here’s to hoping that you’re not particularly needy in that specific area.

- He’s definitely a dom; I think that’s pretty clear. He likes being in charge and dishing out whatever he feels like in the moment. Plus, he likes having you underneath him; he thinks it’s cute how pathetically human you are.

- All things considered, it’d be smart to stick to being enemies with benefits because nothing good can come from genuinely being with him. Being a good boyfriend isn’t in his vocabulary: he is, however, a pretty decent lay; especially if you like being treated a little rough.

- I have a feeling that he’d first come onto you when you’re going through a tough situation; like a breakup with your boyfriend, and play nice and genuine before making a move; kissing and convincing you that he can “help you during your most unfortunate situation”.

- You’ll probably nervously ask whether or not it’s even possible; given the fact that he’s not actually human, and he’ll insist that he’s fully programmed to do it and that he wants to do it; kissing your neck as he leads you to the couch/bedroom. After that, the rest is history.

- He definitely gets turned on when you tell him you hate him or otherwise insult him. You’ll be trying to make him angry or just be lashing out at his behavior and he’ll just grin and bite his lip at you; backing you into a corner before kissing the hell out of you. Not the reaction you were looking for or expecting but you suppose that that’s fine too.

- Speaking of: he backs you into corners fairly often; it’s one of his favorite moves. He likes getting you all nervous and caging you in with his body; actually managing to say things that are genuinely attractive and erotic rather than stupid for once.

- He moves fairly fast and rough; rushing into things and setting a brutal pace. He melts you into putty underneath him and feels a wave of pride flow through him the minute you arch your back and fall forward into your arms; to weak and distracted to hold yourself up.

- He might not be able to make love to you but there’s something fun about being ravaged too, isn’t there. The way he pounces on you and rips your clothes off, pawing at you like an animal before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you off to the bedroom. He might be a jerk, but god can he make a girl feel wanted.

- Doggy style is his favorite position but he also likes having you ride him: usually because he can make you do all the work while he sits and enjoys the show; all with a beer in his one hand and a handful of your ass in the other.

- Speaking of your ass: he is definitely an ass man. He’s constantly looking, grabbing, and smacking; regardless of where the two of you are. I hope you don’t plan on keeping your little get togethers a secret because there’s no way he’s keeping his hands and his flirtatious comments to himself.

- He’s a kinky little robot so ask and you shall receive. Slapping, spitting, spanking, choking; you name it and you’ll get it. He’s evil, remember? He doesn’t think twice about it and probably really enjoys it.

- Hair pulling/holding you by the back of your head. He usually grabs a handful of your hair so he can angle your head up to plant a rough kiss on your lips or make you look at his face; he likes the little pained gasps and grimaces you make.

- Degradation. He’s obviously a big fan of you slutting yourself out for him though so you obviously can’t take it to heart when he calls you a whore or growls out something akin to “that’s right, suck it bitch”. You can threaten to crush his aluminum chub though so keep that in mind when he starts getting on your nerves.

- I have a feeling that he’s sort of into dacryphilia and would like seeing you with makeup running down your face. Would probably say “god you’re hot” as you get up from your knees, refusing to let you brush away your tears and trying his hardest to make you cry more; in the best way possible, as he “gets to the good part”.

- Edging/orgasm denial. He likes seeing you get all frustrated and having you beg for him; getting you all worked up before ripping it away from you. Don’t worry about going against his wishes too much though, he likes getting to punish you afterwards.

- He can definitely go for hours; he’s not flesh and blood after all, so be prepared to sleep until noon and not be able to walk in the morning.

- He may or may not have made you squirt and I will stand by that. It’s probably because of his proclivity towards using toys and doing everything in his power to make you fall apart.

- Road head; though I don’t know why you’d want to be in a car with him.

- Exhibitionism. He especially likes when someone calls you; like a boy who has a crush on you or even your boyfriend, giving him the opportunity to answer the phone and let them hear you moan as he brags about what he’s doing to you. In the future; if you can stand to be in a relationship with him, you can blame it on a bit of the ol’ possessiveness, but it’s all just fun for him regardless.

- One can assume that everything’s the same between him and the real Ted so yeah, big dick.

- You’re gonna wanna go on birth control because I would not trust this robot to use a condom and one can safely assume that since he can spit, all his fluids are the same.

- Sorry, but there is little to no aftercare between the two of you. He probably asks you to get him a beer afterwards or asks if you can find the door yourself or something but sometimes he’ll be nice and let you stay the night. He might even find himself enjoying your sleeping company as he watches tv and relaxes for a while.

#evil ted imagine #evil ted headcanons #evil ted headcanon #evil ted imagines #80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon #80s movie imagines #bill and ted headcanon #bill and Ted imagines #bill and Ted imagine #bill and Ted headcanons

[broomsick]

Keeping an ear out for the High One (and other deities’) advice: a crash course!

Oðinn is known for his wisdom and knowledge, and often manifests himself in the form of omens. However, he is also famously deceiving: he will send you puzzle pieces and watch you try to put them together. His advice comes in handy in numerous predicaments, but it requires some sorting out. Understanding the High One’s messages often comes at a price, and I believe he will send you trials and setbacks if the lesson doesn’t sink in. Not because he is malevolent! In my opinion, he puts obstacles on our way so that we can learn by ourselves, just like he has. In order to help you guys figure out Oðinn’s messages, I’ve boiled down the basics to three major habits which I myself seek to develop. These apply to a lot of other deities, but I’ve chosen to illustrate them using Oðinn as an example because his messages are famously hard to decrypt! Now, everything in this post was written according to my personal beliefs and experiences with Oðinn and the Gods. The advice I give is that of a very humble polytheist, and in no way does it represent the absolute truth. Take away from it what you will, because I don’t claim to know the Gods more than any other.

Observation

Or catching any potential message

Learn about omens! I’m serious. Especially those that relate to the High One’s symbols, such as birds (crows, ravens) or wolves. If he talked to us directly, I believe he would encourage us to observe everything that surrounds us and to study it to the best of our capacities. May I add,

“The knowing guest who goes to the feast, in silent attention sits; With his ears he hears, with his eyes he watches, thus wary are wise men all.” Hávamál, stanza 7

Which is why I suggest to look at things: not only see them, but truly look at them. Observe the clouds’ movements, the grass under your feet and the feeling of the wind. Notice how people behave and try to guess why they behave so! Tune your ear in to sounds you’d never paid attention to before. Truly listen when people talk to you for sometimes, the High One will speak using their voices. Such exercises will accustom you to catch everything that goes on around you. Eventually, you will start to notice when something feels different, and identifying actual divine advice will become easier.

Discernment

Or identifying messages

I’ll go broader than just Oðinn for this step because I believe it applies to most deities. Now in my experience, divine advice often feels like its divine. You will know it in your bones. Physically, you may experience a chill or goosebumps. Time may feel like it stopped for half a second, just long enough for the actual message to sink it once you realize it is there. You might find yourself unconsciously mulling over whatever it is you have seen for the minutes or hours that follow. Yet as you’ve probably heard before, not everything is a divine sign. I think skepticism is a vital part of spirituality. People will see a bug outside and go ‘Loki’s telling me I should find work!’ or they’ll drive past a cat cafe and think ‘this is Freyja’s way of telling me I should break up with my boyfriend’. Now, I’m not saying we should constantly brush off signs as fake. My own way of looking at it is, does it really matter if they are? It isn’t necessary to try and interpret every possible sign. If a certain event reminded you of a deity and you think they might have sent you that message, then good! And if you’ve learned a valuable lesson thanks to it, then even better! Believing you’ve received a message from one of your deities, even if you’re not 100% certain of it, is harmless and even healthy. So long as you don’t take every potential message at face value. Same goes for the High One.

Application

Or interpreting the message

Time to reflect on the sign you’ve experienced! What lesson could you possibly learn from the event/the omen? If a particular message seems to arise, how can it be applied to your personal situation? Let me give an example. You’ve mysteriously lost your keys and are forced to go to your neighbor for help. They warmly invite you in their home, make you some tea and turn out a lot more pleasant than you thought they were. Thanks to this unexpected event, you could become more aware of the people around you, choose to commit yourself to your community, or simply try to not judge people with a single glance. Your eyes are drawn to a crow while you’re walking home from work, and you notice it take flight towards the sunset. The image feels strangely warm and comforting? This might be Oðinn’s way to make you notice the world around you, to tell you to breathe and enjoy a moment of tranquility. My personal opinion is that wether these were divine signs or not doesn’t matter, and there is no point trying to prove that they are either. If you learned something from them, them you can very well choose to believe they were sent by a deity because they just might be!

#sorry if there are any grammar mistakes i wrote this in one go #probably will correct it later #sorry if this post is long #norse paganism #paganism #polytheism #deities #deity work #odin #norse gods #spirituality #witchcraft #omens #divination

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

May I ask KNY Matchup? I'm an adult cis lady, Pansexual. I'm chubby, but that's purely because of my medication and my prettiest part are my green eyes with dark rings.

I have depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, and Asperger's Syndrome, so I'm pretty weird or I have weird habits.

I'm a kind person and all I want to do is to please people. I am extremely GREEDY when it comes to praise. I love it when people flatter me and I always get extremely happy when that happens.

I stress and worry very easily over people I care about, so much it can annoy people I care about, and then I tend to blame myself if anything even the most minor things.

I have this habit of apologizing for everything, even if I haven't done anything bad. It can be annoying to people but those who know me know I don't mean to annoy or be mean to anyone and I feel a little better knowing that they aren't mad at me because of my habit.

I cannot stand arguments. They make me so upset I need to leave the room and if things don't work out I blame myself for the stuff that leads to the moment of me losing control over my feelings and me ending up hurting myself.

My dream is to become a loving housewife like Okusan. I love spoiling people I love, like making them food, giving them massages (I give BEST massages), and making them feel good. Though, I do love being spoiled also very much.

I have never dated anyone before or even kissed anyone. I need my partner to take time to understand me and my feelings so they should probably have a long temper so they won't get mad if I apologize for something.

I, uh, am a Fujoshi and pretty perverted, writing naughty stuff and reading a lot but despite this, I'm shy and super nervous around potential lovers.

I am not a fan of receiving physical touch but if I get to know someone then I am not that detested by their attempts to hug me. Heck, I probably start hugging and nuzzling them if I really like them!

I think I would be so loving, and loyal to the person who takes their time to know and accept my weird quirks.

(Hello! This is my 2nd Match Up request so I hope you enjoy. Also my apologies that it took longer to do than expected and I hope you have a wonderful day/night)

I match you with:

🔥Kyojuro Rengoku🔥

- He is very patient whenever you’re doing your habits and he accepts you for who you are and will continue to be by your side no matter what habits or behaviors you have. When you apologize too much he patiently reassures you that you don’t need to apologize for something that isn’t your fault.

- He thinks your shyness and nervousness is cute but won’t tease you about it just in case you’re uncomfortable about being teased (he will mention it eventually though)

- He compliments you a lot, especially on your eyes he thinks your eyes look very beautiful. When he found out that you love praise he will praise you more often because he enjoys seeing your smile.

- He’s not a argumentative person so you don’t have to worry about him arguing with you but if you get in a argument with someone else then he’ll comfort and listen to you if you need to vent out your feelings.

- He never rushes things, he understands that you never dated anyone and that you like to take things slow in the relationship and he’s perfectly okay with that.

- If you give him a massage after a long and stressful mission he’ll really appreciate it and will make sure you know how much he appreciates you. He loves it when you cook for him, he thinks your food tastes amazing and is sure to compliment you on your amazing skills.

- Since you’re doing all of these nice and thoughtful things for him, he makes sure to surprise you and return the favor when you least expect it.

- He admires your kindness and your want to please others, but he makes sure no one uses you and that you don’t overwork yourself.

Masterlist

#kny matchups #kny x reader #kny x y/n #kny rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n

[realcube]

YOU GOT: KŌSHI SUGAWARA

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ matchup for @littlelilbun

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ if you would like a matchup, read this!

‘i’m a girl, aries, enfp’

𓆩♡𓆪 suga is a gemini 

𓆩♡𓆪 aries and gemini have very high compatibility overall 

𓆩♡𓆪 they are both considered upbeat signs, which seems to be very accurate to both of your characters, so you both have very similar communication styles and approaches to dealing with difficult situations 

𓆩♡𓆪 here are some quotes i found off of zodiac sign sites: 

𓆩♡𓆪 ‘The overall impression of this couple would be good, exciting and challenging, a relationship where both partners can learn a lot and be active in a healthy way.’

𓆩♡𓆪  ‘The spontaneity of the Aries native works well will the unpredictability of the Twins, which is the main reason for the vivacious nature of their relationship. This is a bond that will never be mundane or boring. Both of you will always have a trick up your sleeves to keep the relationship lively and more often than not, you will thoroughly enjoy the company of your partner even after you have been together for years.’

𓆩♡𓆪  ‘As per Aries and Gemini’s compatibility in love, they are a great match because they have so much in common. For instance, both of them value freedom and intellectualism way too much.’

𓆩♡𓆪 Suga is an INFJ , according to personality database

𓆩♡𓆪 the only differences is with him being an introvert (debatable , lol) and you being an extrovert, although i don’t think that would really matter in terms of your relationship. extraversion/introversion really determines how one interacts with others, the public, not each other since you are both going to be familiar with each other and we have all seen how suga is with his friends and teammates 👁👁 

𓆩♡𓆪  you are different in your last types too, however, i think that is probably better for your relationship. differences are really good sometimes, and since judging types to be neat and orderly, while perceiving types enjoy things that are flexible. so you being a perceiving type will definitely help his loosen up and become more spontaneous 

𓆩♡𓆪 it is good that you are both feeling types though, this means you make decisions mostly based on emotions, which means you’ll both be very considerate of each others feelings when making decisions and resolving issues in the relationship 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

‘my love language is physical touch!!!’

𓆩♡𓆪 i’m not sure if you mean giving or receiving so i am just going to assume you mean both !!

𓆩♡𓆪 i hc that his biggest love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation 

𓆩♡𓆪 he is a big supporter of random acts of affection, such as hugs from behind and kisses when you least expect it !!

𓆩♡𓆪 but he is also a traditionalist 🙏 cuddles on the couch and on the bed are also appreciated

𓆩♡𓆪 he’s a squeezer though, he suffers from a chronic cuteness aggression though 

𓆩♡𓆪 so if he sees you looking exceptionally cute, he need to fight every urge in his both to squeeze your cheeks with his whole strength 

𓆩♡𓆪  as for words of affirmation, i think that is like a secondary love language of his when he’s unable to express his feelings through physical touch 

𓆩♡𓆪 so instead of squeezing you half to death, he’ll just tell you how cute you are like a normal boyfriend

𓆩♡𓆪 (he also likes to hear how good of a setter you think he is too) 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

‘my ideal partner is someone tall and protective, who would take care of me and be attentive to me and my feelings’

𓆩♡𓆪 that is so suga !! 

𓆩♡𓆪 i mean he is 5ft9 before timeskip so you can imagine he will be pretty tall after timeskip too 

𓆩♡𓆪 as for protective, he is the epitome of protective

𓆩♡𓆪 maybe overprotective sometimes.. but mostly just because he cares about you a lot and he wants you to be safe !!

𓆩♡𓆪 especially after he gets a job as an elementary teacher lol, being protective is a second nature to him 

𓆩♡𓆪 i don’t know what you mean by take care of you but suga is definitely one of the most caring and giving people, so he would definitely be tending to making you sure you are as happy as you deserve to be; scheduling dates, ordering presents, writing love poems etc

𓆩♡𓆪 and as i said before , he’s an infj, hence a feeling type, so he will be very attentive and considerate towards your feelings and emotions in a relationship

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵    

for @littlelilbun​: it was basically between bokuto and sugawara when i was reading your request but as soon as you mentioned bunnies, immediately suga !! haha

#matchups #haikyu matchups

[emily-scstudyabroad]

Italy vs. the U.S.

I wanted to write a bit about how Italy differs from the US. Most of these are just small things that I have noticed and that you get used to quickly. If you have been to Europe before, you probably know all this, but it was new to me!

In the city center where I live and spend most of my time, the streets are one-way. This makes it easier to cross the street, since you only have to look one way, and there are not as many cars. Especially since the sidewalks are narrow, and you have to step into the street to pass people often. Most of the cars here are so tiny! I see a lot of Smart cars, Fiats, electric cars, and motorbikes parked along the streets. Even though Italy drives on the right side of the road, driving looks very complicated. The motorbikers will pass the bigger cars like the taxis and there are also people scootering and biking on the road. 

The street addresses are interesting too. If a street number is red or says 15 R, it is a business. If a number is blue or black, that means it is residential. That means there can be two fifteens on one street because they are different colors. 

The trash removal was new to me too! We have to sort our garbage by organic, recyclable, and cardboard. We walk to the next street where there are labeled bins where we throw out the trash. On Mondays before 7 pm is when we put our cardboard outside the door to be collected. 

Everything is measured in kilometers and celsius, which I need to convert if I check the thermostat. 

Celsius and they use a 24 hour clock!

At the train station, it costs one euro to use the restroom. In many public places that have bathrooms, there is a fee to use them, but it is usually less than a euro.

Exiting the bathroom in the train station. They even take Apple Pay if you don't have coins.

You always pay for water and should specify if you would like still or sparkling. I personally do not like sparkling water, but sometimes it has been the only water option. Unless it is tap water, then it is free.

Ari getting free water!

I think I am eating better here. I’m eating a lot of pasta and pizza and still have three meals a day with snacks and desserts, but I feel healthier. I think that the quality of ingredients is better than in the US. Also, eggs are not refrigerated, which I did not know was possible.

Creamy pesto pasta dish I had that was so fresh and delicious!

Often, you don’t receive your check at the table. Instead, you pay at the bar before you leave. This goes for cafes and sit-down restaurants. Sometimes they give you the bill and you bring it up to the bar, but usually, you get up when you are ready to pay. This always makes me feel weird because I don’t want them to think I am dining and ditching. In the US, we always pay before we eat at the counter or at the end of a meal when the waiter brings the bill. Cafes are also not what we think of in the US where you can sit and do work. In most places, you stand and drink your coffee at the bar, then pay and leave within a few minutes. They are very small and have limited seating.

It has been an adventure learning how to fit in to this new culture, and I am certain I will keep learning new things until the last day!

#study abroad #italy #florence italy #firenze

[coconutcordiale]

1 & 7 off the deep writers ask list for your 1k celebration!!

Congratulations!!!! 🎉🎉🥳💜💜🍾🍾🥂

thank you so much steph!!! 💜💜💜💜

1. what's the fic you're most proud of?

this is a hard one because i have beef with every single thing i've ever written, lol. i'm an eternal fixer/editor/tinkerer/lamenter that it could be better

so even though i have a lot of issues with the writing quality i'm going to go with steady & tailspin. together they're the longest cohesive thing i've written and one of the few where i think the story stands on its own without relying too much on top gun

2. how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

feedback & hearing what parts worked for readers is the thing that keeps me posting. i treat fanfic as a writing exercise so usually each fic has specific things i'm aiming to improve on and when comments touch on those goals it's like my birthday and christmas all at once :) feedback is inspiring and exciting and the reason i've finished more fics this year than i have in my entire life

not receiving feedback on something you poured your heart and soul into is tough and often super disheartening. i won't lie, when something isn't garnering feedback it takes me a few days to get over it. but lack of feedback can be feedback in itself - maybe characterizations didn't hit the way i thought they would, maybe the opening could've been stronger, maybe the pacing was off, etc. but it's also important to remember there are a lot of reasons - that have nothing to do with the fic - why things do & don't get feedback especially on a site like tumblr (for instance, post timing)

the other thing i try to remind myself of is that i've been writing since elementary school and this is the first time i've ever shared my fiction with other people. so for me writing is something that i'll be doing in some capacity no matter what - if no one reads my stuff, i'll probably still write because i can't stay away from it. while feedback is extremely impactful and motivating i try not to let lack of it discourage me from continuing

thanks so much for sending this in!!! i love discussing writing tools / goals / etc so this was really fun to think through and answer

join my 1k celly!

#mae's 1k #sorry i give such stupidly long answers

[ardathksheyna]

Being A Female Software Engineer

No, this isn't your typical "fuck them tech bros" feminazi rant. This is about how women need to do better towards each other in the workplace. I lightly hinted at this in my literary dog-out post earlier but I figured that I should expand upon that.

In my thirteen years of software development, I've noticed that a lot of the harping about needing more women in tech frequently came from women who didn't think twice about treating their female coworkers and subordinates like shit.

Almost always it was middle-management types—project managers, team leaders, or whatever. Women (like their male counterparts) that never touched code or had any experience coding.

That being said, I've gotten more support and praise for my skills from my male bosses than my female bosses. I know that the praise has nothing to do with my looks because I'm not pretty or conventionally attractive.

However, the times when I have had female bosses, things were different. I didn't receive the same level of support or praise from them. More often than not, the only thing I got was negative feedback—right down to and including I'm not "Minnesota Nice."

That feedback was so dumb that it's basically become my catch-phrase.

I was also told by my female bosses that I couldn't be a senior dev because I valued my work/life balance. Basically, they saw the seniors putting in 60+ hours per week while I tended to finish my work (even extra work) in less than 45 hours. So because I'm better at time-management, I can't be a senior dev. Got it.

Girl, whatever.

Anyway, the point here is that women keep blaming men for work-place hostility and lack of opportunity when in my experience, it's the women themselves create these situations. Not saying that I haven't been on the receiving end of shit-treatment by men because I have, but for the majority of my career, the road-blocks have been coming from women.

I'll also point out that it's never been female developers doing this. It's always middle management types. There's this kind of sisterhood amongst female devs—especially female poc devs. We don't work to cut each other down; like the wider dev community, we work to build each other up and learn from each other and that's how it should be.

It was always the middle management types that hopped on the "More Women in STEM" bandwagon, probably just to feel good about themselves more than anything.

So, below the cut is the most egregious example of having to deal with a bitchy woman boss.

I'm gonna start off with this: I have ADHD, with some possible markers of autism as well, so I don't pick up on social cues quickly. About the only thing I can recognize fast is hostility—and that is a trauma response from not only growing up in a bad neighborhood, but also an unstable household.

When I graduated back in 2010, I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. Female devs are rare—female backend devs even rarer. Female backend devs with the sort of hodge-podge random knowledge that I possessed were even rarer still. No, I don't consider myself a unicorn or a rockstar or whatever trendy bullshit rare-types are called nowadays. Fuck, when you get right down to it, I don't even consider myself a "rare-type" but whatevs.

My first job out of college, I worked at a start-up where the company was always changing the teams and type of management. In my second year there, my direct manager was a woman. She had project management experience but no software dev experience at all. I was also the only female on her team, and the problems in her management style became apparent early on.

What it boiled down to is that this woman did everything she possibly could to throw roadblocks in any career progress I was trying to make, while simultaneously boosting up my male colleges.

I found out later on from two friends that not only did this woman hate other women (she had openly bragged about it to both), but she had also had a reputation as the company bicycle.

There's a special place in hell for women who hate other women but I digress...

I'm not trying to slut-shame here—I don't care what you do on or off the job, just leave me out of it. But it explains why I had so many difficulties with this woman.

That's because despite the undercutting, I was making a reputation as a decent software dev who got shit done and would come up with solutions to crazy client requests (that has to be an AuADHD super-power).

I'm not gonna say my code-quality was great. No, it wasn't. I actually cringe at some of the code I put out back then, but then there's this old saying: the coder you hate the most is you six months ago.

Anyway, remember earlier about the inability to pick up on social cues? One of the men that she dated (which I didn't know this at the time) was particularly nice in his feedback about some of the problems that I was able to solve. What it came down to is that this woman felt threatened by me for no goddamned reason whatsoever.

She couldn't grasp that I had no interest in the men that I worked with—to me, they were only coworkers.

The lessons I learned earlier in life taught me this: I didn't come to work for a booty-call—I came to work for a paycheck. I clock in, do my work, clock out and promptly forget about the job once I get in my car.

Honestly, I don't understand this mentality and never will. What's so great about shitting where you eat? Which is basically what she did, and yes, it came back to bite her in the ass hard.

So yes, this is why I couldn't stand Maas' female lead. Because of women like the one I described above; because of women like my mother—who hated her daughters the minute we all hit puberty because in her sick mind, we were competition.

Mothers hating their daughters is another conversation topic I want to delve into at a later date.

And here is where personal growth comes into play, and why character development is so important. I looked at those examples in my life and I decided that I don't want to be that one. I don't want to be like that. That's not who I am and I don't want to live my life looking at other women as if they're competition or a threat to me.

So hopefully, that ends my long-winded rant about evil, hypocritical women :)

#software development #women in stem #hostile workplace

[harrysweasleys]

to hold you tight, live or die // d.w

summary: dean fears the worst after you get injured on a hunt and it causes panic to cloud his judgement 

warnings: blood, mentions of death, angst 

word count: 2.5k

a/n: hope you guys enjoy!! :) (gif credit to @becauseofthebowties )

[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other platform.]

To say the hunt had gone utterly wrong was likely the most accurate description of what had happened. It was a bit of an understatement, but it was accurate. 

You could tell by Dean’s furrowed brows and the fact that he was speeding down the small country road, no music on, barreling as fast as he could to get to the motel. The sound of the car’s engine was tearing through the silence between all of you, no words being spoken as the tensions rose through the roof.

You could also tell by the amount of blood that was currently pouring out of your abdomen and rendering the chevy’s leather seat increasingly sticky. 

You surprisingly didn’t feel nauseous, the large gash just below your belly button not yet having the toll that it should. You had no doubt that once you arrived at the motel, there would be a slim chance you’d even be able to pick yourself up to walk inside. But for now, you leaned back against the leather and felt the steady vibrations of the car under your seat, Dean’s flannel jacket bunched up and pressed forcefully against your open wound to try and prevent as much blood loss as possible.

The stupid vampire had caught you off guard, which didn’t happen very often. You had always been so aware of a room, always picked up on every possible threat because you wanted so badly to protect Sam and Dean. Which is why you were impossibly lucky that this time, Dean had scanned the room better than you had. 

As the vampire’s blade slashed across your lower belly, Dean had done the same to it. Only, his slice was across its neck. 

Sam had carried you to the car, gently placing you in the back seat while he crawled in after you, holding the flannel jacket against you as your strength began to wear thin. He didn’t speak either, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t think you could totally focus on a conversation at the moment anyways. 

What felt like hours later, the lights of the motel came into view and Dean quickly half-assed his parking in the first available spot he could find. He was lucky the motel was practically empty or he’d most likely receive a complaint. 

“I’ll carry you in,” Sam’s voice was clear now that the engine was off, Dean rushing over to the other side to give Sam a shove.

“No, move, I’ll do it,” he rushed, his little brother scooting out of the way and grabbing the keys to the motel door. 

Despite your head feeling a little fuzzy, you could fully feel Dean’s arms wrapping around your torso and lifting you up, holding you bridal style against his chest as he made his way to the now-unlocked motel door. He walked quickly but lightly; as if he feared his very steps could send you into shockwaves of pain.

“You’re treating me like a china doll, Dean,” you muttered as he laid you down on the motel bed, not even caring if your blood would stain the moth-eaten cotton sheets beneath you. No, that was really the least of anyone’s worries. 

He scoffed as Sam rushed next to him with the first-aid kit that the three of you had compiled over the years, “Not the time for your little jokes, sweetheart.” 

You wanted to argue, but found your energy wearing thin. It scared you, it really did, how one quick second and the slice of a blade could render you so helpless and vulnerable, so close to the darkness of death that you swore you could smell it. Not that you’d tell Dean that – of course not. To him, the old medical supplies he held in his hand – albeit stolen from hospitals, so probably pretty decent – would fix anything. 

You noticed the items he was pulling out; gauze, a tiny bottle of vodka (for disinfectant purposes, of course), scissors, stitches, and you felt a growing pit in your stomach. 

“Dean, don’t waste your supplies,” you coughed up, blinking rapidly to try and fix the fact that your eyes were becoming unfocused. You didn’t want Dean to see you die – you really didn’t. If you were to die, you always wanted it to be in some grand sacrificial way, not some stupid little half-second mistake, and especially not in a mouldy old motel room that smelled of foul sewage with Dean standing over you. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of having to watch Dean die. Honestly, the very thought made you feel even worse than your ripped open abdomen. If you lost him, you wouldn’t know what to do. He was your partner, your soulmate, your other half. He was everything to you. You truly couldn’t imagine losing him. And vise versa, you’d be damned if he had to live his life with the knowledge that he failed to save you.

“Dean, stop,” you pressed as he fumbled with the supplies, eyes dark and hands slightly shaky, “Dean, look at me.”

“What?” he asked, voice low, “It’s an easy fix. Just a bit of stitching. Not like we’ve never fixed anything like this before.” It sounded like he was convincing himself more than anything. You could tell he wasn’t going to listen to you, so you laid your head down and closed your eyes.

“Keep your eyes open, please,” his voice was desperate, his hand clutching yours and giving it a little shake, “Please.”

You lifted your head once more, your eyes meeting his, “I’m awake. I’m just letting you do your thing,” you barely noticed how weak your voice was, but Dean definitely did, “No use in arguing. You’re as stubborn as a mule, you are.”

“‘Course I am,” he let out an uneasy chuckle, “Not lettin’ my girl give out on me. Not today, not ever.”

His words, despite your condition, caused your heart to flutter, “Ever? Are you making me immortal?” You let out a cough, trying your best not to gag at the rising blood in your throat. The taste and scent of iron was overwhelming, but you tried your best to hide it. Dean was determined — you didn’t want to crush his hopes. 

“Absolutely,” he said, his words not doing their job of masking the sting of the alcohol he was now pouring over your lower belly. You didn’t even notice he had raised your shirt in the first place. 

You bit your lip, feeling like your entire body was on fire. God, it stung. Maybe even more than the actual cut itself.

You let out a small cry, squeezing your eyes tight as one of your hands curled into a fist around the bedsheets.

“Shh, sweetheart, it’s only temporary, I swear,” Dean muttered, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles on your rib cage as the other began to take out the stitches and needle. 

His words sounded so faint — so far away. But he couldn’t be far, could he? He was right there. You could feel him. His hand on your skin, the warmth of his chest as he leaned against your thigh to steady himself. He was right next to you. Why did he sound like he was still outside the room? 

“I believe you,” you coughed out once again, not even noticing that your eyes were still closed. The pain was a bright, blinding white. It didn’t feel natural. The light was everywhere, surrounding you in a cold glow. 

“Dean,” you breathed out, your own voice sounding far away now too, “The light. Turn off the light.”

He let out a noise, his hand dropping and landing against your skin, “The light isn't on, Y/N.” 

You didn’t reply, wincing against the chilling feeling that overcame your body. 

“Y/N? Baby, open your eyes. There’s no light.” Dean sounded frantic — hands now on your shoulders, “Please, god, sweetheart, open your eyes. I’m right here. We’re okay, yeah?”

The light was so bright — how could he say it wasn’t on? 

“The light,” you choked out, not daring to open your eyes in worries that it would actually blind you. 

“No, please,” Dean’s voice sounded like it echoed through the room, “Oh, my god. Open your eyes.” 

His hand was against your cheek now, and it was the last thing you felt before you let the light take over. 

Empty. Your lungs felt empty. You needed to breathe. Air. You needed air. 

Your whole body tensed as you sat upright, taking a massive gulp of air like you were a parched traveller who just found water weeks into a journey through the desert. 

Water. 

You also needed water. 

The stale air of the room stung your throat as you breathed in, coughing as your hand fumbled across the space to feel where you were. 

Your eyes felt glued shut, too heavy and too permanent to open. 

Was this heaven? Because if it was, this was a terrible way to be introduced to it. 

The coughing didn’t seize, your body laying back down on the bed. Or, at least, you assumed it was a bed. You felt a blanket and a pillow under your head, so it was the only thing you could think of.

You tried with all of your might to open your eyes, worried you’d be blinded by whatever light was calling to you just mere moments ago. 

Was it moments ago?  

How long had you been dead? 

The light in the room was dim, small streaks of sunlight peeking through dusty curtains and shining onto a wall — a wall that was covered in the same wallpaper as the motel that you had just been in, the one where Dean had tried to save you. 

Was this your heaven? A little centuries old motel with watery coffee and a sink that smelled like rotten eggs? This couldn’t be your heaven. You might not have been a saint, but for God’s sake, you deserved better than this. 

“W—,” you tried to say water, but nothing came out. Your throat was as dry as a bag of bones. 

The jingle of keys caused your heart to stutter in your chest — your heart. It was beating. Were you alive? 

Your hand travelled down to your abdomen, feeling thick padding and a twinge of pain. You lifted your shirt, arms struggling with the movement, to see a white bandage wrapped tightly where your cut had been.

The door opened slowly, shushed whispered voices coming in from outside. 

You panicked, turning your head to the night table behind you to see if maybe this little heaven of yours had given you a weapon. 

Of course, there was nothing. 

“Dean, there’s a — oh my god,” the voice was so familiar. Sam. 

His silhouette was obvious, shaggy hair and a figure so tall it nearly smacked the doorframe. The person next to him was unmistakable as well. Well built, shorter hair, a jawline so sharp you swore it could cut diamonds. 

Dean. 

“Oh, my god,” Dean dropped whatever he was holding and rushed to your side, bed dipping heavily as he threw himself down. Quite contrasted to how he had carried you in from the Impala, when he had been afraid any subtle movement would break you. 

“Water—,” you choked out. Of course, you were happy to see Dean. And you wanted to ask him what happened. You had been on the verge of death, no hope in sight. And now here you were, feeling fine. 

But you couldn’t say any of that with your throat feeling like sandpaper. 

Sam nearly dropped the paper bag he was holding, rushing to the motel’s shitty little kitchen and grabbing a glass, filling it with water as quickly as he could before bringing it back to you. Dean was sitting next to you, hand over yours as he watched you drink the water — probably worried you’d choke on it or something of the like. 

As you finished the glass, you felt like a little bit of life was back inside of you. Your throat felt normal, and the water in your body helped soothe your overly-warm body. 

“You’re okay,” Dean muttered next to you, turning his head to shoot Sam a quick ‘can you give us a moment’ look. The younger brother nodded his head, not even bothering to come up with an excuse before he grabbed the car keys and made his way out of the creaky room. 

“Dean —,” you breathed out, his hand coming to rest on your cheek, “I thought I was dying. How did you save me?” 

He let out a nervous laugh, “Sam called Cas. I was — I was too panicked, too worried, I didn’t even think of calling him.” He rubbed his hand down his face, the guilt written clearly in all of his features. This was eating him alive, you could just tell. 

You reached out to him, arm stiff, “It’s okay. I’m here. That’s what matters, yeah?” 

“No,” Dean shook his head, “I mean, of course I’m beyond happy that you’re okay and that you’re still here, but I should have been smarter. I just — the thought of losing you. Shit, it terrifies me.”

You sat silently, soaking up his words. You knew he had more to say, so you kept your mouth shut and scooted closer to him.

He took a deep breath and continued, “I thought I had failed you. I needed to save you. I had to save you. There was no other option, not for me. I needed to save you. I couldn’t sit still, I couldn’t… You were so cold.” 

It felt like your heart sunk down into the pit of your stomach. You truly couldn’t imagine how he must have felt. 

“I wasn’t even thinking about Cas, or Sam, or anything else. I was thinking about you, and how there was no way in hell that I was going to sit back on my ass and not do anything. I had to try.”

You reached out to put your hand on his face, and Dean nearly let out a strangled breath at the fact that your hand was warm. Warm. There was blood in your body, you were alive. 

“Dean,” you forced him to look at you, “This life isn’t easy. There’s no way any of us can think rationally twenty four seven. It’s nearly impossible for me to even think straight half the time when we’re on a hunt. It’s a lot, it really is. I’m not mad, I’m not disappointed. I’m here, and I’m with you, and we’re both okay.” 

The answer seemed to silence him, give him a bit of closure. That, or he just decided that he felt there was no use arguing with you since you were currently present, alive, and in his arms. And to the both of you, that was all you needed. 

But Dean swore, to himself and to you, that he’d never let you go through that again. 

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester one shots #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester reader insert

[wandaromanova]

Lost

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, cussing

A/N: hello! i’d like to put a disclaimer that i am not in any way knowledgeable of the medical field and all of the terminology and information used in this fic was found through research! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiiiii !! can i request like an angst into fluff natxfem!reader one shot where the reader has a really bad day and takes it out on nat and hurts her feelings and so they go to bed angry. but the reader realizes their mistake and the next morning just wakes her up by showering her with love and then takes the whole day to do cute little date things with her? like making her favorite meal or like dancing in the kitchen to their favorite song late at night or just super fluffy things? if not, that’s okay!! have a good day <3

Summary: The heavy weight of her profession gets to Y/N and she takes her anger out on her loving girlfriend; Natasha Romanoff.

Word Count: 3K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Becoming a doctor was no easy feat.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Once high school is completed, one must receive your bachelor’s degree before taking the MCAT exam and applying to medical school. After four years of medical school, you must endure a year as an intern before being promoted to a resident. 

Depending on what specialty one has selected, residency can span from three to seven years. Fellowships follow after but are typically an optional course that provides extra training. 

Yes, there are a lot of necessary steps to take in order to set foot into the medical world, but somehow, the years of foreplay could never compare to being a full-fledged physician; and you knew this all too well.

You are a pediatric oncologist and your job was to diagnose and provide treatment to children and teenagers who had cancer. You specialized in hematology; the treatment of blood disorders.

You were the head of pediatric oncology in a Manhattan hospital. You dealt with a lot of patients, but a two-year-old little girl named Sarah was secretly your favorite. 

Despite being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Sarah’s positivity and playful personality never faltered.

Even if she didn’t understand the circumstances because of her young age, you knew she was suffering. Regardless of it all, every session you had with her was endearing.

You met with the child once a week to administer chemotherapy. Her enthusiasm never failed to have you awestruck. Most of your patients were exhausted from the treatments, but not Sarah. 

She was a hyper child who would attempt to sing Frozen songs, performing as you tried to fight a smile from taking over your features. She had a stuffed Olaf doll that she brought with her to every visit and it was heartwarming to see her hug the doll close to her chest. 

Sarah would even bring you drawings every week that you would keep in your locker. You’d admire each and every one of the drawings, even if you couldn’t really tell what they were.

You’d grown fond of the little girl in the past two months you had been treating her. You were also relatively close to her parents, who were probably the kindest people you’ve ever encountered. It made sense that Sarah was the ball of sunshine she was, she obviously got it from her parents.

Most times, parents were on edge and extremely short-tempered. If parents saw you often, that meant that their child was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Understandably, they would be rather hostile whilst interacting with you, but you never took their behavior personally. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

If you were in their shoes, you were positive that you wouldn’t be very friendly either. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You had grown fond of the beaming child. You were aware that growing emotionally attached to patients was unprofessional, but how could you not? 

You adored children and for that very reason, you had chosen a specialty that allowed you to help kids as much as medicine would allow. You always had a soft spot for kids and you found joy in helping them as best as you possibly could.

Sarah had a very good chance at pulling through. With consistent treatment and her young age, her survival rate was around 68%. Those were considerably good odds in these circumstances. Not to mention, the chemotherapy seemed to be paying off. At the rate she was improving, she was predicted to be out of the woods soon enough.

However, the child had developed a bacterial infection. Since she had been receiving chemotherapy, the treatment had damaged her white blood cells which are responsible for fighting off infections. 

All you could do was provide antibiotics to try and fight off the infection. You had monitored her for some time in hopes of seeing any sign of improvement, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Her immune system was extremely vulnerable and there wasn’t any way to reverse the damage. 

Your heart was torn to pieces when you delivered the news to her parents. They broke down in the hallway outside of Sarah’s room as you informed them of Sarah’s rapidly shortened life expectancy. It was only a matter of time before the young child would pass and honestly, this was what you hated most about your job.

You hated that you couldn’t help every single patient. You hated how cruel the world could be to take away an innocent child from their loving parents. 

You allowed her parents to spend time by her bedside. They laid on either side of her bed, clinging onto her for dear life. What broke you the most was the paleness of Sarah’s once glowing skin. Her smile was still present but didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to. 

Her parents quietly sang ‘Love Is An Open Door’ to Sarah. You felt your heart clench in a bittersweet way as you silently watched. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to join in, but her lack of breath prevented her from doing so. All she could do was close her eyes and lightly nod her head along to their voices. 

Sarah passed hours later and it was an extremely somber experience. Hearing the cries of parents who lost their children wasn’t easy and it never would be. Your job had its pros and cons, and this was the biggest negative.

You fought back your own tears as you exited the room, giving the two mourning parents some privacy after you recorded Sarah’s time of death. You found the nearest restroom and allowed the tears to fall down your face. 

A pure soul had been ripped away from the world, never having the chance to experience the great things life had to offer.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

4 Hours Later

You trudged into your loft, immediately taking off your coat and hanging it up before tossing your keys on the small table by the front door. 

Your girlfriend, Natasha, had heard your arrival and quickly exited the bedroom to greet you, a wide smile on her face. However, her smile fell when she noticed your defeated state. 

Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched slightly and your eyes were dripping with sadness. 

“Honey? What’s wrong?” Natasha approached you while you stood frozen in front of the door. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as she stared at you in concern, her eyes scanning over your features. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I lost Sarah.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha’s eyes widened and her heart sunk at your words. She was aware of how much you adored the two-year-old. Once a week, you would rave about the child and how adorable she was at the dinner table. You would go on and on about how Sarah would sing to you, draw pictures for you, and bring along stickers to place onto your coat.

The redhead loved how happy you looked whenever you spoke about any of your patients, but most especially Sarah. It brought Natasha some joy of her own to see you speak animatedly about Sarah; your happiness was her happiness. 

So, the news hurt her almost as much as it hurt her. She knew how much you loved Sarah, despite never saying it straight out.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared about her. Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice was oozing with sympathy. You couldn’t help but feel irritated by her question. 

You tore her hands off of your cheeks and walked past her and into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water as the redhead watched you intently. 

“Am I okay? I’m fine! It’s not like I lost an extremely young patient today or anything. What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Natasha?” You took a sip of cold water to try and calm yourself damn, but your attempt was futile. 

The redhead made her way into the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the island as you took another sip of water, eyes burning a hole into her head over the rim of the glass. 

“I know, that was a dumb question. I just want to help you, Y/N/N.” Natasha remained calm and patient as she spoke to you. She was no stranger to the loss of a person she desperately tried to save and knew all too well the sadness and anger that accompanied the tragedy. She was an Avenger, after all. 

“I don’t want your help and I don’t need you!” You slammed your cup onto the counter as you raised your voice. Honestly, it was surprising that you hadn’t shattered the glass with the amount of force you exerted. 

Natasha felt an ache in her chest as you yelled at her. She knew that you weren’t in the right state of mind and didn’t take it personally, but that didn’t make your words hurt any less. 

“You save entire cities and I can’t even save a single fucking person!” You were turning red at this point, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The redhead hated seeing you cry, but she knew better than to approach you at this moment. 

“Babe, you save so many pe-” Natasha’s tried to speak, but you quickly interjected. 

“If you’re going to try and spew some philosophical bullshit to me right now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another god damn word from your mouth.”

The redhead looked down defeatedly. She had never seen you so upset, let alone direct your frustrations towards her. Her eyes fell down to the marble counter between you both before looking up at you. You were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. 

Without another word, Natasha retreated back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. You watched her until she was out of your view and let out a sigh. Your hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island, supporting your weight as you shut your eyes. 

You brought a hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. After a few minutes, you made your way into the living room, chucking off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch. You didn’t feel like interacting with Natasha anymore tonight, knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be able to control your temper. 

You were just so fed up with the painful losses you had to endure from your profession. 

You knew that being a doctor was more dark clouds and thunder, than sunshine and rainbows, but you just wished that for once, the weather forecast would work in your favor. 

The emotional day had finally caught up to you. Your body relaxed as you sunk further into the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you succumbed to a much-needed slumber. 

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was still awake. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. She was mad at you, as much as she didn’t want to be. Natasha had gone through the same thing and never lost her cool with you as you had with her. 

The redhead calmed down slowly, turning on her side and facing the empty space beside her which you normally occupied. She reached one arm out, her skin colliding with cool sheets, already missing the warmth of your body. 

Natasha hated sleeping without you by her side, She didn’t feel complete when you weren’t steadily sleeping next to her, your arms wrapped around her body. However, she hoped that things would improve in the morning.

And with that thought in mind, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clutching the sheets firmly in her hand. 

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

 The Next Morning

You awoke to a blinding light, the morning sun shining through the windows and landing directly onto your face. You let out a groan and slowly sat up, stretching out your limbs with a groan. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, you were aching everywhere. 

You sat there for a moment as the events of the day before caught up to you. Not only had you lost Sarah, but you upset Natasha. You immediately felt guilty as you recalled the harsh words you spat at her in a fit of rage. You felt like a complete asshole, and rightfully so. 

You quickly stood up and entered the kitchen, retrieving some bacon from the freezer and eggs from the refrigerator. You grabbed two separate pans and washed your hands, making sure to get the coffee pot running before you began cooking.

Your girlfriend absolutely loved bacon, eggs, and coffee. She described the combinations as a ‘party in her mouth.’ So, this was going to be an ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch last night’ apology breakfast. 

You got started on the meal and by the time you finished up and had the stove off, Natasha stalked out of the bedroom slowly. She eyed you carefully as she approached, you sent a soft smile her way.

“You made breakfast,” Natasha spoke and you shyly nodded your head. You moved away from the stove and rounded the counter. The redhead stood in her spot as you wrapped your arms around her waist, her arms reflexively going around your neck.

“I was an asshole last night.” You stated and your girlfriend nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you were a total pain in the ass, the absolute worst.” You rolled your eyes at Natasha’s teasing tone.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved. I was just so upset about… Sarah. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I feel for yelling at you when all you wanted to do was help me.”

Your voice was full of emotion, your eyes boring into her emerald irises as you poured your heart into every syllable you uttered. Natasha smile gently at you, her fingers lightly tugging on the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. 

“It’s okay. I know you weren’t mad at me.” You let out a sigh of relief as the redhead stared at you softly. She let out a small chuckle at your dramatics before continuing.

‘I understand how you feel. The team and I, we try our very best to save as many civilians as we can, but sometimes it’s completely out of our control. It’s the exact same situation.” 

One of Natasha’s hands found its way to your cheek, gently cupping the skin as you leaned into her touch. You were listening intently to her every word, mesmerized by the calming rasp of her voice.

“Don’t dwell on what you couldn’t do, but give yourself some credit for everything you did do. I may not know what happened, but what I do know is that you tried everything you could, no?”

Natasha questioned you and you nodded your head. “I gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, but it was too severe.” The redhead rubbed her thumb against your cheek. 

“All that matters is that you did your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.” Natasha ended her little speech as she placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. You couldn’t help but smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness taking over. 

“Thank you. I love you and your… what was it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration before your face lit up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Philosophical bullshit. That was the words.” The Russian let out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side at your antics. 

“Seriously though, I’m so grateful for you. You’re so amazing to me even when I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Natasha’s laughter died down as your tone turned serious. Your eyes were so full of love and adoration as you stared into her eyes deeply. 

“Well, let’s hope you never have to find out.” Natasha smiled once more and you couldn’t resist pressing your lips against her plump ones. Your mouths moved in tandem at a slow pace, enjoying the rawness and love that accompanied each movement. 

You broke the kiss when air became an issue. Nat’s eyes fluttered open as you wiggled your eyebrows at her playfully. 

“So, are you ready for some breakfast? Maybe after we eat, we can go on top of a rooftop and I’ll serenade you with a rendition of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber.”

Natasha’s head flew back as she laughed uncontrollably at your words. “What? Do you not like the Biebs? If you want, I could play ‘Baby Come Back’ by Player from a boombox and hold it over my head, instead.” The redhead continued to laugh profusely and you soon joined in. Your arms tightened around her waist as your giggles subsided. 

“I think cuddling on the couch and watching the Kardashians eating ridiculously large bowls of salad will do.” You nodded your head in agreement but didn’t make a move to release Natasha from your grip. She didn’t let go either. 

The two of you just stood there, basking in each other’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling over you both. 

Natasha never failed to say the right things to pull you out of the dark abyss that was your mind. She was completely right, as always. There would always be bad days, patients who were progressing one day and deteriorating the next. 

However, there were also good days, and you shouldn’t allow the bad to overshadow all the good you’ve done. Like with Natasha, she wasn’t always the superhero she is today. She took her dark past and turned it into a bright future. 

Nat didn’t let her bad days define her and neither should you.

Of course, you would always remember every single patient you had lost, but now, you would take the pain and turn it into motivation; motivation to improve yourself, not only in your professional life but in your personal life as well. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You would do right by the ones you’ve lost and the one who stuck by your side; Natasha Romanoff. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff angst #black widow x reader #black widow #request done

[donutloverxo]

NSFW alphabet | Chris Evans

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Note - This is written just for fun. I don't know Chris or what he likes lol. I also don't own the alphabet format.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Warnings - rpf, smut, daddy kink, d/s relationship, dom Chris, anal stuff, semi public sex, spanking, sex toys, praise kink.

Word count - 2.5k

A=Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Chris is clingy as fuck after sex. He’ll hold you close to his heart (you being the lil spoon of course) and not let go the entire night. With soft kisses on your face, hair and on any bruises he might have left on you. With some pillow talk about how his love for you can overwhelm him sometimes, that he can’t imagine not having you not that he gets to have a taste of you almost every night. Sometimes he likes to listen to you talk about your day, or share a deep secret you hadn’t told anyone else.

His clinginess is something you adore. Something which you would usually be fine with, how he just could not keep his hands off of you, but when you’re somewhere tropical and hot it becomes a bit of a problem.

You were visiting him while he was filming for red Sea diving resort, after seeing him in the beard and the longer hair you couldn’t help yourself and you just jumped on him. After some hot and sweaty sex, you had moved away from him a little, with your back to him you wiped the sheen off of your forehead with the back of your hand, trying to fan yourself with your own hand, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he had growled. Not wanting even an inch of distance between the two of you. You tried to protest because you needed to cool off but eventually gave in.

B=Body Part (Their favorite body part)

Everyone knows the answer to this. He likes your ass the most. It doesn’t matter if it’s a flat ass or a thick one he’ll love it the same because it’s a part of you. He likes to smack it, he likes looking at it, he may even like to fuck it. Some stretch marks would just be the cherry on top.

His next favorite would have to be your hips. He loves to see their silhouette through your yoga pants or jeans, or even a dress. After a night of some rough fucking they usually bear his handprints which he loves obviously because it’s almost like he branded you as his own.

C=Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I’m a disgusting person)

It’s always a battle with the two of you when it comes to cumming. Because Chris likes to see your body covered in his seed, particularly your face, ass and breasts, and you like to have him do it inside you, be it your pussy or your mouth.

Which he doesn’t mind obviously, he likes the idea of his spend being in your tummy, but he also likes taking pictures of your ass covered with his spunk. You just look so pretty when he comes on your face🥺

D=Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Chris has fucked you in more bathrooms than you can remember. It’s become a thing or almost a ritual now. Whenever he takes you to an event or a party, or just a casual dinner at his family or friends house, you’ll end up on your knees in the bathroom with his dick in your mouth, or he’ll worship you and eat you out till you literally can’t even walk straight.

It started when you accompanied him to an important event, he was extremely anxious. And you felt helpless because you didn’t know how to make him feel better. But you did know one thing that always lifts his mood up. So you dragged him to the men’s room and sucked him off. He was much relaxed the rest for the evening thanks to you.

E= Experience (How experienced are they?)

VERY. He’s extremely experienced. He has a lot of knowledge and puts it to good use on you. Which can be a little daunting if you’re more on the inexperienced side but don’t ne afraid. He’ll train you really well, you just have to be a good girl and listen.

F= Favorite Position

His favorite position would be doggy style. Where he’s doing from behind, with you on your hands and knees, or with your head down and ass perched up to him because you never can stay up right when he’s doing you so well. He has full access to your ass, if you’re okay with it he would use his fingers on you, spank your ass. He loves to grab your hips or your ass and your breasts.

He’s also a huge fan of missionary. Because he can’t see your pretty face, or look into your eyes from behind. Most days he wants intimacy and to show you how much he loves you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Depends on his mood. Sometimes he’s a bit goofy, like talking in a comically exaggerated Boston accent when you told him you liked the sound of his voice and how his accent becomes more prominent when he is horny.

But most of the times, he’s in control. He has to maintain some composure so you wouldn’t question who’s really in charge or think that you could get away with anything. Because you know how to make him laugh, and if he let’s you do that he couldn’t keep a straight face while punishing you.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Chris has dark Brown pubic hair, like that of his beard and the hair on his head.

Does anyone remember that term ‘manscaping'? Where dudes trim their pubic hair to make their dicks look bigger. Chris definitely does that. Although he doesn’t need to because like if he got any bigger he might split you in two.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Doesn’t matter if you’re making love, or fucking hard it will always be intimate and loving with Chris in one way or another.

If you feel needy, and like you want him to show you how much he loves you, you just have to sit on his lap, bat your lashes at him, show him your puppy eyes, and hump his leg a little. He’d get the sign and take you to bed, slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, drawing it out for the both of you, his fingers laced with yours, pinned above your head. He’d feast on your breasts and nipples the whole time just so you could feel his love and need for days.

If you’re feeling particularly frisky, or in a mood to piss him off just so he could be rough with you without you having to ask, you can just give him attitude or roll your eyes a lot. He’ll spank your ass raw, or edge you for hours, or make you climax till it literally hurts, depends on his mood really, to teach you some manners. But since you like the punishment you never learn.

Even while he’s got you over his knee, you not wearing anything but the diamond necklace he gave you, your cheeks wet from crying for the past fifteen minutes, your ass on fire but you still had to take more from him. He tsked, reprimanding you for ruining his expensive dress pants with your slick, playing with your intimate lips, he’d say while stroking your head, “It’s okay, baby, daddy still loves you. Even when you get on my nerves.”

Even while fucking you like he hated you, he made you felt loved and as if you were the most precious person in the world.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

When you started dating, Chris would often masturbate to the thought of you. But when you started sleeping together he never felt the need to, and you asked him not to do it anymore because you didn’t want him wasting his cummies.

Which might’ve been a huge mistake in hindsight because you revealed a weakness of yours. Now when he REALLY wants to punish you, he’d just tie you up jerk off his cock right before your eyes, “See this, sweetheart? I could be fucking your sweet pussy right now, and making you feel good too, but you had go and be a bad girl.” He’d come all over your face or breasts, and would of course make you come too if he feels you’ve learned your lesson.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Chris has a huge daddy kink. He doesn’t just like the title, he likes everything that comes along with it.

He likes that he has to take care of you, in and outside if the bedroom, being a daddy is a 24/7 job, he has to be considerate to you and grateful for all the trust and love you give him.

He also really likes pinning you down. Whether it be during play wrestling or during sex, it makes him feel strong, and it drives you crazy, absolutely feral for him.

L=Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Yeah you’ve had your share of sneaking off to do it during events but his favorite place to do it would be in the privacy of his own home, preferably his bed so that your dog won’t walk in on you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

If you simply say, “Screw me.” That would probably be more than enough to turn him on and fulfil your request.

But what grinds his gears is seeing you in tight clothing, or the kind of clothes that would show off your assets. If you’re a good mom to dodger, if you show an interest in the things he likes or do anything that would make his heart flutter and make him fall more in love with you.

N= NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never have proper public sex because that would probably interfere with his public image and work. Other than that he’s pretty open to most things.

He also wouldn’t like to invite anyone else to your bedroom or to share you. It is a nice fantasy for him but way too risky.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes both giving and receiving equally. He likes having you on your back where he can see your face while he explores your intimate walls with his tongue, but he also likes to have you ride his face. You were apprehensive to at first, but with some convincing you agreed.

Sixtynine is another one of his favorites. He never actually had to ask for it. You were sitting on his face, holding onto his stomach and screaming when you felt your orgasm approaching, he pushed your head just a little, you got the hint, and started working on his cock, which was painfully hard.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

It would usually depend on what kinda day it is and how you’re both feeling. But most of the time he is usually slow but at the same time rough. Where his thrusts are drawn out but also impactful.

Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Chris loves quickies. Bending you over the kitchen counter, a quick session in the afternoon on the couch when things got a little too heated while cuddling, in his trailor while he’s on a break, in the shower where he can make you dirty before cleaning you up. You made it.

But he wouldn’t prefer them over proper sex ever. Usually he likes to take his time with you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

He’s game to experiment to a certain extent. Even if he’s skeptical about something he’d keep an open mind and give it a shot for you.

S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

He’s a fit and motivated man so he can last for a long time and go for many rounds. It’s more likely for you to be tired and tapped out than for him.

If it was a long day on set, and if he’s a little exhausted then he may not be able to go more than once. But will make up for it when he can.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You both own a variety of butt plugs and vibrators, silky ties, blindfolds, handcuffs that Chris likes to use on you. You even bought a ball gag asking him to put it on you, which was the only time you ever used it because Chris liked to hear your voice and for you to call him daddy or say his name. You couldn’t do it with your mouth full.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chris teases you a lot, but he would be a MASSIVE tease if he was a little more patient. He knows the effect he has on you. How you can’t take your eyes off him when he wears a t-shirt that’s a bit too tight and shows off his arms, how you can’t help but grab his butt sometimes and feel him up. When you bite your lip or look away when he catches you staring. If you get caught, be prepared because he will only do it more just to egg you on.

His touches a bit too light, he’d bring you to the edge and leave you just there. But fortunately it won’t last long because usually he’s the one who ends up getting riled up.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s loud alright. And he isn’t ashamed of it. He would never try to hide how good you make him feel, or miss an opportunity to call you a good girl and praise your gorgeous body. There will be lots of grunting and groaning and moaning and you revel in every second of it.

X = X-Ray (Let s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s pretty big. Much bigger than average. He looked pretty average when he wasn’t hard, you let that fool you into thinking you could take him pretty easily, he wasn’t that much bigger than anyone else you’d had sex with right?

Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you saw him hard, his dick hard and thick and a blush pink, two thick running on the sides of it.

He assured you that he would make it fit and that you had nothing to be worried about.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty high. Higher than most people at least. You call him your horndog, but like in a nice way, because he always wants it. Even if you spent an entire night screaming his name and being used and stretched in ways that made your pussy as well as your body sore, he would still ask for more the very next morning. He’d respect you if you say no and back off immediately but he’s up for it whenever you want.

ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he has things on his mind, and if you fall asleep sooner than usual then he’d be up a while. But most of the times he falls asleep quickly after.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans alphabet #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #steve rogers x reader #chris evans headcanons

[fangirlings-things]

Rescheduled Lesson

❦ PART. II

Fandom: Enola Holmes

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x female reader

Word count: 3K

anon said: Can I request a Sherlock x reader where she visited Enola often when Sherlock left on long cases, so they became good friends? And when Enola runs away to find her mom, she goes to stay with the reader, which Sherlock deduces and tries to get her to let him find Enola and talk to her? -&

A/N: this request was amazing and I loved every bit of it!!! I put all my inspiration in this, tried to make the personality of the character good, so I hope you like this piece, love, I did my best!! (also I’m thinking about a part 2? if you guys like it let me know, I would be delighted to write it) (had to repost guys, I'm sorry!!)

also, the tag list for this fandom is open!!!

gif credit: @henrycavilledits

❧ You knew the Holmes family was nothing like the other families that lived in the countryside. The father had died many years before. The two oldest sons had already left home, to live their lives and follow the careers they desired. On that incredibly big house, where once lived a family, there was only a mother and her youngest child left. Perhaps the fact that you yourself was considered a little off by other people, was the fact that made you become friends with them.

You lived completely alone, surrounded by books in a small house. Your life was made of studying, researching and writing texts about science. You loved it, great authors of the matter being your inspiration. You tried to learn their teachings and with luck, wanted others to learn as well. You almost couldn’t believe when one day in the middle of a sunny afternoon, Eudoria Holmes had showed up at your door and invited you to her house, where she asked you to be Enola’s science teacher. She educated her daughter not for society, but for herself, so that she could find her own path when she came to grow up. That instantly made you respect that woman and accept her offer.

Twice a week you would go to the Holmes’s house and spend hours and more hours teaching the girl. Darwin, Copernicus, Newton, Galilei. She was eager to know and you were eager to teach her. She was the first student you had that actually wanted to learn and that was amazing. Made you proud and happy, more than you could say. At the evening, Eudoria would ask you to stay for dinner. You would put lessons aside and talk and laugh together. They were like your family, the one you didn’t had.

You were always excited for the days of teaching Enola to come soon. They were your absolute favorites of the week. In the beginning of the afternoon of one of those days, you had been incredibly surprised by a knock on your front door while you gathered the books you would make the girl read and study. Frowning, because you never had visitors or received letters, you went to attend the door.

And when you opened it, you saw that your visitor was Enola herself.

“Hi, Miss (Y/L/N)” the girl smiled at you, a little forced smile that instantly made your frown grow deeper. She was wearing boy’s clothes, even a hat, and her long brown hair had been hidden inside of it. “I’m afraid today’s lesson will have to be rescheduled”

“Enola, what…” you began, confused. You had seen her dressed in boy’s clothes before around her house, that wasn’t a big deal. She did find them more comfortable, she had told you before. But the fact that she concealed her hair as if she wanted to hide it and the expression on her face, something that you couldn’t quite identify but resembled urgency, was enough for you to get anxious.

“Please, Miss (Y/L/N), can I come in? I promise I’ll explain everything you want to know” she pleaded, eyes locked on yours as she did so. The tone on her voice made you nod and take a step to the side, locking the door once she was already inside. “I had never been here. Your house is really amazing” the girl seemed overwhelmed by all the books and unfinished texts you had around, laying on tables and shelves.

“Thank you” you said, mind still running fast as you tried to understand what was happening. You walked after the girl, that had advanced until she reached the next room of your house, one who only had two couches and a table. “Enola, what is going on?” her face instantly lost the admiration she was having for your belongings. Her eyes went to the floor, and she went silent. That made you sight. “Enola, you promise you would explain. And you know you can trust me”

That seemed to make her come around, because she sighted as you had just did and sat at one of your couches. Or better, she laid down on it, placing her head over a pillow and focusing her eyes on the roof. Her hands were joined over her chest. “I came here because I wanted to hide, Miss (Y/L/N). I’m running away”

Your eyes went wide at that declaration and you sat on the other couch, realizing that would probably be a long conversation. “Enola! Think about your mother! She loves you. Your disappearance will hurt her deeply”

“No, no, I’m not running away from my mother. I’m running away to find her” the girl sat straight on the couch, eyes meeting yours again like they had before at the door. She could see the confusion in your eyes grow by each word she spoke. “My mother went missing a few days ago, Miss (Y/L/N). She didn’t say goodbye or said where she was going. She only left me clues, here and there that I’ll have to use to find her”

Worry got a hold of you, the same worry you had recognized on Enola’s eyes. Eudoria. Where would she have gone? Was she fine? Not knowing you realized, was terrible. As you thought about what Enola had just said, another question got to your mind. “If your mother is missing, who are you running away from, Enola?”

“My brothers. Sherlock and Mycroft. Well, especially Mycroft, because he wants to send me to a finishing school, that prepares young women for society” the clear disgust in her voice would have made you laugh if you weren’t so worried.

“Where will you go to find your mother, Enola? What plans do you have? Do you want me to go with you?” all questions left your mouth in such a rush, that it seemed like you had just spit out the words one after the other.

The young girl smiled kindly and got up, going to sit right next to you on the couch you were on. She grabbed your hands in hers gently and squeezed them tightly. “Thank you for offering to go with me, to support me, Miss (Y/L/N). Is more than my own brothers have done. But this is something I have to do alone, I have to be the one to find her and know why she left. And I think that the less you know, the better it will be”

Oh, that girl. You smiled while you looked at her. Eudoria had raised her to be a force of nature and had achieved that goal, brilliantly. You squeezed her hands back in affection. “When will you leave?”

“At sundown today” she said, so quickly that you realized she had already thought about everything. At least, on that phase of that 'plan' to find her dear mother. “Will walk to the train station, not the closest one but the next, and get on the first train in the morning tomorrow. In this way, I’m quite sure my brothers won’t be able to understand my intentions soon enough as to catch me”

“Very well” you passed your arms around her and hugged her tight, sighting. “Let’s get you some food for your journey, then. If you find Eudoria and she finds out I let you almost starve I’ll get in trouble”

Enola laughed as she hugged you back.

════ •⊰❂⊱• ═══════ •⊰❂⊱• ════

Enola had left at sundown of the previous day, just like she had said she would. Carrying nothing more than money her mother had left her, a bag of food you had given her and her favorite book of yours, Origin of Species, you had watched her walk away into the night alone, as her name backwards spelled.

You had spent the whole night incapable of sleeping, wondering if she was fine and if she hadn’t encountered any dangers as she travelled on foot. You worried so much but all you could do, was hope that she would stay safe and find her mother. Soon.

On the next day, you had spent the morning and the beginning of the afternoon distracted. Tried to complete some of your works, but couldn’t. Your mind would always go back to the gone girl and her well being.

You had frustratedly been trying to read the same page of one of your books for fifteen minutes, without being capable of keeping any attention on it, when for the second time in a long time, you heard knocks at the front door.

You got up instantly, leaving the book forgotten upon the closest table as you rushed to the door, already smiling at the thought at Enola had came around on her idea of going alone and was back to ask you to go with her.

When you opened the door though, you realized that it wasn’t Enola who had knocked. It had been a man. A man you had never seen before.

He was tall, it was the first thing you noticed. The fact that he had no beard, was the second. And then, details of him came rushing into your mind through your eyes. He had short, curly hair, bright eyes and memorable features. He wore a white shirt, a brown vest with small white details in it and a brown suit as well as trousers of the same color. No tie which was insula for men that well dressed.

“May I help you?” you frowned at him, holding the wooden door firmly with one of your hands. To receive the visit of men, had always made you nervous. You lived alone, after all, and the world was becoming a more violent place day by day.

“I hope so” he said, which such confidence on his voice that it actually made you raise your eyebrows at him. His eyes were fixed in you, analyzing your face with much intensity. Far more than you thought it would be appropriate. “I’m Sherlock Holmes. And I suppose you are Miss (Y/L/N), my sister’s science teacher”

You took a moment to watch him again, trying to put into your mind that the man in front of you was the Sherlock Holmes, the detective who was making a name on England, solving the most incredible and difficult cases on his own. After long seconds of silence where you only stared at each other, you cleaned your throat. “I am in fact Enola’s teacher, Mr. Holmes. How did you know?”

“I found her works, studies on great science authors. They all had writings on the borders where she constantly mentioned a desire to please and make a 'Miss (Y/L/N)' proud. It only took me a visit to one of the closest houses to ask who it was and get pointed in your house’s direction” he explained, in an impersonal tone quite fitting to a detective. He saw the incisive tone look you were giving him, filled with suspicion, and smiled slightly as he looked at his feet, before focusing his eyes back on yours. “I came here because Enola ran away from home, Miss (Y/L/N). And I think she would come here to see you if she needed help”

You sighted, looking into his eyes. You remembered Enola’s words, where she had told you Mycroft was the one who wanted to send her to a finishing school, the one who had made her run away. If that had been Mycroft Holmes at your door, you would have denied being her teacher or even knowing the girl, wanting to cut the conversation short. But that was Sherlock Holmes. Enola hadn’t expressed much anger towards him and honestly, he would for sure find out the truth on his own. He was the best detective there was in the nowadays. You tell him, would just spin faster the process and you would be able to send him away sooner.

“Come in, Mr. Holmes” you took a step aside, motioning for him to come in. He did, in slow calculated steps and once he was inside you closed the door, sighting. You expected him to say something, but he didn’t. Not at first. Instead he walked around just like Enola had done, eyes floating through the uncountable books you had, all in a complete mess over the tables, piles and more piles of them . “She was indeed here, your sister”

He turned his head to look at you, a genuine smile on his lips. “I was already certain of that” then he walked towards one of the tables, fingers running through one of works. The paper was a bit kneaded, but he didn’t seem to care. “The works you did with Enola, the amount of things she learned… they were quite impressive”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to contain your surprise to know you had impressed the most impressive man of all, Sherlock Holmes. You waited for him to speak again, but he didn’t, just kept on walking through the room and inspecting your things with his perceptive eyes. “I don’t know where she is, Mr. Holmes. She left many hours ago”

He placed his hands on the pockets of his trousers, turning completely to you the resemblance of his previous smile on his lips. “And I believe she didn’t tell you what were her plans?”

“No and if she had, I wouldn’t tell you” you said and went to sit on a chair, at the table he had been studying with his eyes previously.

“Mind if I take off my suit?” he asked simply. You just nodded for him to go on, not giving it much thought. He took off his brown suit in gracious movements, then placed it in one of the other empty chairs close by. “May I ask why you wouldn’t tell me my sister’s plans, Miss (Y/L/N), if you knew them?”

“Enola said your brother wants to send her to a finishing school” you replied, watching as one after the other, he folded the sleeves of his white shirt until they got close to his elbow. Unconsciously, you noticed how his muscles could be seen from under his shirt. “To try to turn such a brilliant, incredibly smart young girl into a 'lady society' would be a terrible mistake. She shouldn’t be forced to do it” at the end of that sentence, Sherlock Holmes had grabbed two books in his hands and after reading the tiles, he went to the shelves and started placing them there. “Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I am organizing your books, Miss (Y/L/N). In alphabetical order, of course. Like I’ve noticed you do after a quick inspection” he smiled at you again, placing those two in place. Then, he went to the table and grabbed a few more. “I personally agree with you. I don’t think Enola should be sent to such a place, but she is my brother’s ward. It is out of my hands” he read the titles, then turned around to return to the shelves. “I suppose you weren’t raised as a lady of society also, for you live by yourself apparently and your academic interests”

“You’re wrong” you said with a little smile taking a hold of your lips, and that made him stop organizing the books and look at you with a frown. She shouldn’t be wrong often. “I was raised to be a lady, until the point where my parents died. After that, I started to live on my own, for I had no more relatives. It gave me a chance to become who I wanted to be, instead of whom I was being carved into”

“You chose your own path” he said with a bigger smile this time and when you nodded in agreement, he returned his look at the shelves. “How did your parents die?”

“They were murdered” you tried to swallow the knot on your throat. Even though they had been controlling parents to the most when regarding your future, they were still your parents, and you loved and missed them. “The police never found out by whom”

“The police can be quite… inefficient” he turned back around with his hands already empty. “I’m really sorry”

“Thank you” you said, squeezing your lips in a thin line as old memories came to surface. Things you hadn’t you thought about in a long, long time. “If there isn’t anything else, may I escort you to the door?”

Your polite way of sending him away made him smile.

He placed the books he had just gathered back on the table, grabbed his suit and accompanied you towards the door, not bothering to dress the piece again. You opened the door and he stepped out, turning to look at you once more. His eyes were curious, interesting. Full of something you couldn’t quite identify, so mysterious as his sister’s.

“If you find Enola, don’t stop her from trying to find your mother” you told him, trying to repress the emotion in your voice. “Not knowing what happened… can be quite disturbing”

“I promise, stop her, is not my intention” he looked down at his feet once again, as if he was thinking for a brief moment, before his eyes went back to yours. “I could try to find out what happened to your parents. Who was their murderer”

“I don’t have much money, Mr. Holmes” you told him, your turn now to look down at your feet.

“I never said you would have to pay” he replied and with that your gaze snapped back up to meet his, and that made him chuckle. You couldn’t deny he looked quite beautiful when doing that. “You were there for my sister through much time and when she needed help, when I wasn’t. That is enough paying for me. Think about it, Miss (Y/L/N). After I find my sister and discover where is my mother, I am willing to take over your case. If you want me to” he nodded his head in your direction in a silent appreciation for your reception in your house and began to turn to walk away, but stopped himself in the middle of such movement. “May I know your first name?”

You smiled softly at that. “It’s (Y/N), Mr. Holmes”

“Please, call me Sherlock”

And after that, he walked away.

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