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whumperooni · 3 years

Note

Mr.Natsuo being your teacher and you purposely flirt with other boys as wear really short skirts in his class to make him ✨jealous ✨and horny , he asks to see you after class and you get fucked on his table 🥺🥺 Sorry I’m on my period and I’m going feral 😃

No, no- never apologize for this! It makes me feral too ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Natsuo Sensei, please come get this pussy ♡

tags/warnings: teacher/student relationship, teacher kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, manipulation, improvised gags

A/N: I wrote Natsuo a bit more rough than I normally do, but I think it turned out okay;;; I also abused the words professor, doctor, sensei, and teacher;;;;

But. Ya know.

Enjoy! ♡

You were fucked the moment you walked into his classroom. Introduction to Human Anatomy and Physiology. 2:30 pm, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Led by Doctor Natsuo Todoroki. An insert into your schedule that seemed harmless enough. Interesting, surely. Something you were a little worried about- what if you turned out squeamish despite your love for all things horror and gore?- and something that would just fill your first semester of college. Harmless. Routine for your major. Nothing to give you any sort of fuss or throw you into a flustered little mess. Or, so you thought. Honestly, you hadn’t given much thought to what your professor might be like. You were more worried over having to share a dorm room with a stranger, if you could handle your class load, how hard it might be to adjust being away from home and all you’ve ever known. You suppose your mind’s eye might have conjured a vague image of a wrinkled and wizened old man with a stern gaze and whitened hair. You suppose you might have faintly imagined Doctor Todoroki to be a tired geezer in a lab coat and faded sweater vest. You suppose you might have had the predetermined, unconscious notion that your professor would be intelligent, elderly, stern and, well, someone who you would only think about in terms of being someone to give you tests and homework and lectures. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to find a smiling, young man with a handsome face and thick thighs, big arms. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to lock eyes with your professor and immediately go weak in the knees under a stormy gaze and a sunshine smile. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to only have your breath snatched away, your cheeks flared with a flush, your heart forced into a thundering staccato. You didn’t think that Doctor Todoroki would be hot. But, oh god- oh god- he’s gorgeous. Doctor Todoroki- well, Doctor Natsuo or even professor; he seems to prefer those much more than his family name- is, honestly, a living, breathing wet dream. He’s hot. He’s kind. He’s friendly. He’s funny. He’s perfect. The class that you thought would be only mildly interesting turns out to be your favorite. How could it not be when you’re blessed with a full hour of delicious eye candy, a teacher that’s so generous with his praise and has your spine tingling whenever he says your name? He’s so friendly and he’s so polite, too. The way he calls you Miss is a little old fashioned, sure, but it sends your mind reeling and your cheeks flushing- quick fantasies zipping through your thoughts as your thighs involuntarily push together. Your crush springs up from the moment you see him and it only gets stronger with each passing day. Little accidental brushes against you, the smiles he sends your way, the scent of his cologne whenever he leans over your table to correct an answer, the way his praise rings in your ears late at night- it all sends you spiraling. You’ve never had a crush quite like this before. Certainly not on a teacher. You want him, though. Oh, god, do you want him. Your roommate is the unfortunate one that has to hear you whine and moan over him- you’re much too embarrassed to admit your crush to your friends back home or any of your family; they’d be sure to scold you, to call you foolish and chide that you’re a silly little girl. She understands it, at least. That helps, keeps you from being too ashamed. “I mean, it’s no surprise you’ve got a thing for him,” she muses. “He’s young. He’s hot. Anyone would get a little crush.” You don’t like that thought, really. You don’t want to think about others lusting after your sensei. “Why not try shooting your shot?” At your scandalized look, she huffs and shrugs, rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on,” she scoffs. “No need to be such a good girl. Professors hook up with their students all the time. You just gotta be discreet.” “I can’t,” you protest- shaking your head and pulling your knees up to your chest. “And it’s not like he- he doesn’t see me in that kind of way.” “You don’t know that,” she counters with a click of her tongue. Another huff leaves her and it’s easy to see that her patience with the situation is waning. “Either feel it out or get over it or find someone else to moon over. There’s no point in moping and stewing.” You’re not moping. You’re just- you’re just- Okay, you’re mooning over him like she said. But you’re not moping. It’s just- it’s such a new situation for you. You’ve always had crushes on your peers- never anyone older than you by more than a year or two, never anyone in a position of authority over you. A taboo situation like this has never been your cup of tea- you’ve always been a good, sensible girl. Crushes on teachers have never been something you thought to entertain. But now? Well, now... You bite your lip and eye your reflection, nervously touch up your makeup in the bathroom mirror. It’s light and simple but pretty and sweet. Stalking Professor Natsuo’s social medias helped you gain the insight that he seems to prefer his women more natural and cute, innocent looking- all glossy lips and doe eyed, fluttering lashes with just the barest hint of mascara and blush. The false lashes might be a bit too much, but they make you look even more doll like and, that too, is something he seems to like. Pretty. Simple. Doll like. Sweet. Young. You think you’ve managed to put that look together rather nicely. The pleated skirt- just shy of rising above your knees- and the soft cardigan help, too, and, really, you don’t think you’ve ever looked quite so innocent before- even when you were a wide eyed, straight A, pure and untouched student back in high school. ...god, what are you doing? A groan leaves you and you nearly scrub the makeup from your face, nearly rip off the skirt and switch it out for the leggings you have stuffed inside your backpack. Nearly. You don’t think that this is really going to work. You don’t think that this is really going to draw any sort of reaction from him. And, well, maybe that’s what you need? Maybe you need to truly see that it’s a fruitless desire- maybe then it’ll shrivel up and away and you’ll be free from your sinful fantasies, free from the desire that has your head spinning. And, well, it’s been a while since you’ve dressed up a little, too- the rigors of college have had you leaning more toward comfort than style, have kept you too tired and busy to give time to makeup and skirts and a polished appearance. It feels kind of nice being all cute and attractive instead of frumpy and disheveled. ...you’re not going to change. You deserve to feel nice and you’re dying- desperate- to see how your professor will react to you looking nicer than the tired lump you usually display. Just act normal, you tell yourself as you head toward the class- clutching your textbooks tight to your chest. Don’t be too hopeful. Don’t be too excited. Don’t get disappointed. Just- just think of it as an experiment. That’s all it is, right? Just an experiment! You’re just putting a hypothesis to a test! (What a load of crap. It does help to calm your fluttering, nervous heart, though) You swallow as you approach the room and take a deep breath to steady yourself, bite your lip as you eye the open door. You can hear him rustling around and you know that the others will be around soon- you can’t just keep standing there like a dumbstruck, coltish fool. Another swallow, another deep breath. You walk into the room and fix a nervous smile on your face, chirp out a nearly stuttered “Good afternoon, Professor.” He’s faced away from you- broad back greeting your vision as he scrawls something across the blackboard. His head turns, though, and you get to hear an absent “good afternoon” replied back, you get to watch his gaze fall on you. His hand pauses. His snowy lashes blink once, twice, three times. Surprise flickers over his face- evident enough that you can catch it without doubt. His eyes flick down and back up so quickly that you almost miss it, dart away whenever your smile shrugs off its nervousness and grows ever so sweetly. You sit yourself down front and center- right in front of your sensei’s desk. He doesn’t look back at you as you organize your books and gear. He doesn’t look back at you as you primly cross your ankles and rest them to the side, drag a curious, studious gaze along his back. You had hoped for a response, but you hadn’t really expected it- Professor Natsuo has been kinder and more friendly and open than your other teachers, yes, but he’s still been professional. He’s never crossed any boundaries and you’ve never see him give another student the once over. This is...promising. Your cheeks stay flushed as the other students file in, but your anxiousness is gone away. Sure, that little look doesn’t really mean anything but now you’re...well. Now you’re curious. Desperate and needy for some validation of your silly little fantasies, but curious too. Could you...would he...? You wet your lips, unthinking, and keep your eyes on Doctor Natsuo throughout the class- analyzing his behavior, absorbing his words, taking in how his gaze finds you a bit more often than it usually does. Interesting. Encouraging. The next day you wear a skirt that’s a little bit shorter, don sweet mary janes and ankle socks decorated in lacy frills. Steel grey eyes dart to your legs more than once during the class and you even catch your professor tracing his eyes over your hips when he thinks you’re not looking- his reflection in the shining convex mirror hanging above your dissection table showing guilt, an almost nervous tilt to his lips. Oh, you’ve got him. But how do you proceed...? Your worries and frets and protests over taboo desires are long gone- they got dashed away with the first blink of his long lashes, with the first glance over he had given you. Really, you should feel ashamed over discarding your morals so easily, but it’s an exciting situation, isn’t it? It’s nothing you would ever think to find yourself in. But college is all about new, exciting situations, right? It’s about taking chances. God, you hope this is really a chance for you- you’ve never had the opportunity to play a coy game like this before. It’s...fun. High school would have been a lot more interesting if you had known this kind of thrill. You come home smiling ear to ear after a successful attempt at making Doctor Natsuo blush. (A sway of your hips, a flit of your slowly shortening skirts, a coo of his name as you thanked him for such an interesting lesson, a sweet smile and your fingers daring to skim ever so lightly and quickly over his wrist as you walked out of the classroom) The smile on your face has your roommate’s brow quirking, but one look at your outfit has her lips pulling into a smirk- something near gloating on her face. “You shooting your shot?” she asks, already knowing the answer. “Something like that.” You plop down on your bed, smile waning but still present- content as you let yourself get comfortable. She doesn’t offer any more conversation and you’re okay with that- mind fixating instead on how you could possibly further things with your sought after teacher. Things are good, for now- much better than you had ever thought they would be. The little forays into flirtation have been fun, exciting and they’ve even helped boost your confidence- something you hadn’t realized was sorely needed. It’s been fun. And it stays fun- the short skirts, the girly lilt you find yourself injecting into your voice, the soft makeup and sweet perfume, the way you always leave the class with wet panties and a vibrating exciting buzzing through you, the way your teacher’s eyes can’t help but dart over you, the way he breathes in just a bit deep when you get a little too close, the way he swallows whenever you so lightly purr his name- it all stays fun. Fun, but...frustrating. After a while it gets frustrating. Because he doesn’t do anything, not really. He stays a proper, good teacher- something you give props to him for- and he never returns your gentle flirtations, the subtle and silent invitations you push his way. He’s so...professional. It’s kind of a turn on- kind of. It’s mostly just...frustrating. You find your lips dipping into a pout more and more, find yourself sulky and downtrodden. Sure, this has been fun and interesting but you...you want more. You want him. You need him. You’ve needed him for so long it seems. You find your muffled ministrations in the shower getting more and more frantic- your fingers pumping into your cunt relentlessly but giving you none of the relief you seek. When you are able to cum, it’s always with a whimper of sensei or doctor or professor- sometimes even a daring Natsuo. You get restless and impatient, desperate and a little hopeless. If your teacher senses or sees that, he doesn’t say anything- in fact, his gaze seems to avert from the feverish look in your eyes, he seems to pull away from your bold, reckless attempts to get closer to him. That hurts. That makes you angry. That makes you feel stupid. But he still wants you- or, at least, he still finds you tempting. You know he does- he can’t hide the way his eyes fall on you whenever you walk into the room, he can’t hide the quick glances he lays over you when he thinks no one else can see. You see his hesitance and want. You see it. ...if he’s not going to act on his desires, if he’s going to resist, then you’re going to kick things up a notch- someone has to; you can’t live with this stalemate any longer. It’s not a punishment, not really- it’s just throwing in his face what he’s missing out on. (My, whenever did you become so reckless and cruel? When did you become so desperate?) The ratio of boys to girls in the class is quite staggering- something one would think the university wouldn’t allow for fear of lawsuits. There are three boys for each girl- ambitious, studious, virginal, frantically horny things with expectations piled high on their shoulders and stress wracking their every thoughts. (It wouldn’t be unfair to say they you’re just like them- just sans the virginal part, double the stressed and horny part to make up for it) They’re good boys, for the most part- friendly and tired, nice but none of them quite to your taste or striking enough to jar your fixation from your sensei. Some of them are even handsome- which makes this a lot easier. “Oh, you brought me coffee? Thank you so much, Dai-chan! You’re so sweet!” The kiss you lay upon your classmate’s cheek makes him blush and fluster. It also makes your dear teacher stare- eyes wide and brow furrowed when you flick your gaze his way, his lips twitching as if he’s not sure if he wants to frown or not. The soft giggle you let out does bring a frown- something that deepens whenever one of the other boys comes over to grab your attention, try his hand. You should have thought of using them earlier on- they’ve been eager enough to try to flirt this whole time. Doctor Natsuo, for his part, doesn’t say or do anything- of course he doesn’t. But his usually happy temperament turns a bit tense, a little sour. He doesn’t lash out, not really, but you can see the way his teeth grit and his brow puckers whenever one of the boys dares to lay their hand on your arm, the small of your back. Good, you think- vicious and bitter, sour yourself. Get jealous. “What the fuck is up with Todoroki lately?” “Dude, did you hear how he snapped at Araka?” “Do you think something happened? He seems...stressed.” Your classmates trade hushed whispers as they flee the room, but you don’t think to join them- you stay quiet and soak in their quiet gossip, smile sharply without a look back to your grimacing, frustrated sensei. Just a little more. At this point, you’re not even sure what you want from him- an admittance of his own desires, him hurting and annoyed? You don’t know. You just want something to happen- you need something to break this little silent game apart. You think and think and think over what could raise the situation to the breaking point and, finally, you settle on something simple. The night before your Thursday class, you invite over one of your classmates- Eita; one of the more attractive ones, one of the less nervous ones. Your roommate is gracious enough to stay away (thanks to your offer of money for booze and weed and help with her homework) and you have the room all to yourself. Three beers and some easy flirtations, just a few small touches- that’s all it takes to get what you’re after. You don’t let him fuck you- he’s not worth it, nowhere near what you want- but you let him fumble his hands over you, are kind enough to wrap your hand around his cock while his lips frantically roam and suck over your neck. You don’t let him come until you’re absolutely sure that you have what you want. It reduces him to a whining mess- which, hey, is honestly kind of cute. You rebuff his sweet offers to “return the favor” and send him off with a kiss to the cheek, spend the rest of your night nursing a glass of wine and silently brooding- mind tired and body exhausted, your desires so restless. The next day you dress in a pleated, short skirt that just barely skims the middle of your thighs and fix your hair into a cute little updo, don your now signature mary janes and pull on a brand new pair of knee high socks. The sly comments you get throughout the day are annoying, but easily ignored. You’re impatient through the morning and it only gets worse as Doctor Natsuo’s class creeps closer. You spend the day jittering your leg and biting your lip, checking your phone every few moments and huffing to yourself, clutching at your arms and trying not to pace up and down the school’s halls. Finally- finally- it’s time for your favorite class. You have to force yourself to walk slowly toward it. You have to breathe in deep to quiet your pounding heart, to still your trembling hands. This has to spur something on. You walk into the classroom- skirt swaying, lips hiding your anticipation behind a smile. You ignore Professor Natsuo and make your way to Eita’s desk, plant your elbows on it and rest your chin in your hand, arch your hips up so your teacher can be teased by the sight of your soft thighs and curves, taunted by how just an inch or two of fabric prevents your panties from being flashed. (Is he looking? He has to be looking. He better be looking.) “Eita-kun,” you coo, sweet and loud enough for others to hear, “I had such a good time last night. We should do it again.” Eita’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush. You might enjoy it if you weren’t so distracted by the noise of a coffee cup slamming down and clattering on the desk behind you, if your breathing didn’t hitch so sharply at the fault in your sensei’s composure. Slowly, you straighten yourself to standing and turn around. Professor Natsuo’s face is red and flustered- jealous- when you look and his eyes are narrowed at you, his coffee spilled on the desk. You offer him a sweet blink and a sweeter smile, tilt your head so he can see the blossomed bruise tinting your throat pewter and mauve, a stormy and swirling blue. His eyes widen, his gaze darts behind you. Your smile grows. How do you like that, sensei? Your hands tremble just a little- from nerves, from excitement, from aching anticipation- and you clasp them behind your back to hide them from his gaze, lean forward and peer over his desk. “Are you okay, sir?” you ask him- chirping and so very sweet. “Do you need help cleaning that up?” He stares at you- disbelieving and still so evident in his shock, his envy. Some strangled noise chokes its way up and out of his throat whenever you flutter your lashes his way and smug amusement gathers in you as you watch his jaw tighten, his teeth grit as he tries to gather his composure once more. “No. Sit.” Oh. You’ve never heard him sound like that before. So authoritative, so stern. So hot. It’s your turn to let out a noise- something soft and almost curious, accompanied by flushed cheeks. You obey your teacher and sit down without a fuss- thighs pressing together and already growing damp, lip bitten and eyes half-shut as you watch him silently clean up the coffee. He doesn’t look at you throughout the whole lesson. He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t call on you. He doesn’t smile or laugh or joke around. He’s...cold throughout the class- words iced over and posture rigid, his face holding no warmth at all. You gulp as you listen to him lecture and squirm in your seat- nerves starting to gather and grow despite the way you’re still so very wet between your thighs. You had wanted something to happen. You were determined to force anything to happen. But maybe- maybe you miscalculated. Maybe you fucked up. It’s something of a relief when the class ends. Usually, you like to linger for a few moments, like to stay just a bit longer than necessary so you can grab your teacher’s attention with a question or some sort of compliment over the lesson. Today, though? Today you shoot up from your seat without delay, begin to gather all your supplies as quickly as you can. At least...at least until he says your name. It’s firm, just a little icy. You stiffen at the sound and gulp, look back at him with wide eyes and a nervous smile. Before hearing your name part from your teacher’s lips would send you flying high, but right now...right now your skin is tingling with a giddy apprehension, your fingertips are trembling as you search his face for any hint of what’s to come. “I need to have a word with you,” Doctor Natsuo tells you- eyes boring into yours and keeping you frozen where you stand. “I, um,” you try to weakly protest, “I have to get to my next class...” “It won’t take long.” If he catches your wince, he doesn’t react to it. Professor Natsuo simply leans against his desk as the rest of the students file out- arms folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to display thick forearms. And you? You stay rooted to the spot- heart pounding and eyes still wide, cheeks flushed and thighs damp. When the last student leaves, Professor Natsuo walks over to the door and closes it shut. Click. W-Wait- did he just- “D-Doctor Natsuo?” you squeak out. “What are you- what are you doing?” “I think I should be asking that question.” Oh, shit. Your teacher turns around slowly and the look he gives you takes your breath away. He looks angry and frustrated. He looks pissed. Pissed, but there’s- there’s something more- there’s- “What-” He takes a step toward you, you take a step back. “- do you think you’re doing, young lady?” The whimper that leaves you is equal parts anxious and needy- soft and unwanted. You probably shouldn’t find the growl in his words so hot. Your knees probably shouldn’t knock together and your pussy shouldn’t throb at the snap of young lady. But it’s- you didn’t expect him to be like this. But you- it’s- A tremble wracks through you and Professor Natsuo takes another step toward you. You bump against his desk whenever you stumble back and flinch at the wood that slams into your lower back, gasp and whimper once more when big hands fall to the table on both your sides, when your teacher brackets your trembling form and keeps you enclosed and captive. His eyes are narrowed. His cheeks are flushed. His cologne smells so nice up close, his height has your lashes fluttering and your breathing shuddering as you’re forced to tilt your head back to look up at him with wide eyes. “S- Sir?” “Don’t sir me,” he snaps, crowding closer to you. “I’ve lost my patience with you playing coy.” He’s lost his patience? Your mouth opens to shoot off something probably very stupid, but the words die as a big, cool hand finds your throat and forces your head to a tilt. The touch is beyond expected, has you crying out softly and gripping onto his shirt, almost hyperventilating. The pin prick retraction of your pupils is dramatic and so is your whimpering exhales but, god, this is not what you had expected. “You’ve been toying with me for weeks now,” Doctor Natsuo growls out, his fingers digging into the hickey on your neck. “All your short skirts and little touches, your shameless flirtations- you’ve been trying to drive me mad, haven’t you?” “Pr- Professor,” you whimper out, thighs rubbing together and a moan threatening to sound. “I just- I just wanted-” “You just wanted some attention,” he huffs out- his other hand gripping at your waist and his knee knocking your legs apart. “You wanted to see what would break me, right? That’s why you came in flaunting this today.” Your teacher’s thigh slots between yours and his fingers push deeper into your bruised flesh, his stormy eyes narrow and take in the way you shudder, how your cheeks flush even darker and your eyes start to turn just a bit glossy. A mewl leaves you- embarrassing and so needy, so helpless- and you whine softly after, try to turn your head away so he can’t see the way all your bravado and confidence is melting away into your selfish, needy, hopeless desires. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he demands- forcing your face back to him. He doesn’t look angry now- just frustrated- and your stuttered little gasp only makes his teeth grit, the way your thighs squeeze his makes his breath in sharp and deep. “Go on- tell me.” You- you can’t. You can’t deny him, can’t lie. Not now that things have finally boiled over, not now that he’s finally confronting you. Not now that you’re about to come just from the feeling of his thigh pressing against your soaked cunt. Not now that you’re so close to moaning and falling into a pleading, begging thing. “I- I had to,” you whine. “You weren’t- you wouldn’t-” “Tch.” The grip on your neck tightens and leaves you whimpering, leaves your fingers curling even tighter into your teacher’s shirt. “I was trying to be a good teacher,” Professor Natsuo grits out. “I was trying to keep from taking advantage of you.” Take advantage of you? You would laugh if it weren’t for your wettening lashes, the way your hips are aching and tightening from trying not to grind over your sensei’s thigh. “Sensei-” “Did you fuck him?” he interrupts- fingers dragging over your hickey and hand gripping your hip tighter, pulling you closer and making you whimper, tremble as your cunt is made to glide over his leg. “Don’t tell me after all this time you settled for a boy like that?” You shake your head the best you can- almost frantic with it, flushed and vaguely angry he would even insinuate that you would hook up with someone after you’ve put in so much effort toward him. “N- No! I wanted- I didn’t want- didn’t want him,” you whine, hips jerking despite yourself, a mewl leaving you whenever your teacher’s breath catches. “Sensei, please-” “Fuck.” The groan that leaves him has your lashes fluttering, your lips parting with a soft whine. The hand on your neck moves to your scalp and buries thick fingers in your hair, messes up your updo and sends your hairtie flying. He ignores the protesting noise that leaves you and looks down at you instead- eyes dark with a need that mirrors your own, nostrils flaring as his breathing turns heavy. “You are so naughty,” Doctor Natsuo growls- one hand curling his fingers into your hair, the other smoothing down your waist and to your spread legs. “Filthy little thing.” Filthy? You’re not- you’re not- The hand at your waist moves to loosen his tie and you whimper when he pops open his top button, when he shifts his hips forward and you feel his cock hard on your thigh. “Pl- please, sensei,” you breathe out in a beg- unplanned and so thoughtless, even overwhelmed. “I- I’ll be good! I won’t tell! I just want- I need-” You cut yourself off with a whine and rock against his thigh, look up at him with your wet lashes and flushed cheeks. He groans whenever you whimper and you clutch at him tighter, try to press against him. “I need you, sensei,” you plead- so soft and so desperate. “I need you. I- I promise I’ll be good. I just- I just-” You whimper once more and he groans, grips your waist and sits you on the table rough enough to make all his pens rattle and shake. He slots himself between your spread legs and buries his fingers back into your hair, presses his mouth against yours so fast and hard that it makes your whole world screech to a screaming halt. Your eyes widen and then slam shut, your body goes limp as you whimper and tremble from the way his tongue traces over your bottom lip. You allow your mouth to open and your teacher groans over it, slips his tongue inside and forces you to bend back as he presses closer toward you. Whenever he pulls his head back from yours, there’s a glistening of spit on his lips, a flush to his cheeks. You squirm under his gaze- suddenly so shy, suddenly so flustered- and whine as he stares down at you, arch your back and gasp whenever he forces your head to the side once more and presses his lips to your throat. It hurts when his teeth dig into the already tender, bruised flesh but it sends your mind reeling, has you mewling and reaching to scratch at his back. “Y- Yes! Please! Cover it! Make that mark yours!” The words fly out fast and without any thought, the begging comes from a place you didn’t realize existed within you. You don’t even realize that you mewled such a thing out until your teacher is groaning against your neck, until he’s muttering a, “Fuck- that’s a good girl” right against your throat. If you weren’t so swept up in the situation, you might feel embarrassed. But, you’re not- you’re just gasping and flushed and made even more needy from the praise, from the way your sensei’s hands drag down your sides to grip your waist. Tears blur your vision and a stuttered breath has you shaking, your nails digging deep into soft fabric and clawing over a broad back. “Doctor Natsuo please!” Another groan from your teacher and his hand slips under your skirt, his fingers push your soaked panties to the side and dip into your sopping cunt. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he growls, curling two thick digits and making you cry out. “Hey- shh, shh. Be good. You promised you were going to be good.” Be good? Oh, fuck, you wanna be good. You bite your lip as your teacher fucks his fingers deep inside you and try so, so, so hard to stay nice and quiet and good. He watches you as you try to muffle your whimper behind your hand and you shake from the way he licks his lips, from the way his lashes lower and his gaze turns approving. “That’s it, baby,” he mumbles. “Good girl. Fuck- turn over.” Professor Natsuo backs away and you can’t quite bite back your whine whenever his fingers leave, can’t quite inject any gracefulness in the way you scramble to comply. He yanks you back whenever you’re on your stomach- has your knees knocking against his desk and your hips arching up. There’s no warning when he grabs the plush flesh of your ass and spreads your cheeks wide. Your face flushes and a soft noise leaves you, your thighs press together as you squirm and whimper. “Cute,” he murmurs, squeezing your butt roughly. “Even better than I imagined.” Imagined? Oh- oh. He- he thought of you. He fantasized about you. Sensei- sensei got off to you. Your cunny clenches and your teacher groans- low and deep and accompanied by the sound of a zipper being pulled down. When you look back over your shoulder at him, his fingers are undoing his tie and you’re left blinking in confusion as he wraps each end around his palms. “Professor...?” “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation- lips falling open and fingers curling against the wood of the desk. Professor Natsuo slips his tie between your lips and you whine as it digs into your cheeks, shudder whenever he gives it a tight tug. “Now be a good student for your sensei,” he instructs, gathering the tie in one hand and pulling out his cock with the other. “Quiet and good.” You nod the best you can, but it’s a promise you can’t quite keep whenever his cock nestles between your cunt’s lips, whenever the tip eases into your hole and then slams fully in. You cry out- spit wetting your teacher’s silk tie and his hand laying heavy across your ass, your head getting yanked back whenever he jerks on the tie. “What did I say?” He said- he said to be quiet and good. You have to be quiet and good. A muffled whimper leaves you and you rock your hips back, squeeze around your sensei’s cock with the softest little whine. He groans and his hips pap against you, his dick drives in deep enough to have your toes curling and your lashes fluttering. He’s- he’s big. Bigger than you thought he’d be. Bigger than you dared to imagine. The stretch is- it’s so much. But you’re so wet. You’re so needy. Tiny, strangled whimpers leave you as your professor falls into a rhythm and you shudder, do your best to fuck your hips back against him. That stops whenever he grips your waist with a grunt and you whine softly, still and let your teacher fuck you how he pleases. You take it and you love it, get pushed close to orgasm faster than ever before. You almost collapse when you come on his cock and you hiccup out a whine of pleasure, a muffled mewl of his name. Doctor Natsuo groans as your gummy insides spasm around him and his grip becomes bruising, his rocks get faster- harder. Feels so good! Feels so good! Sensei’s dick feels so good! “Shen- shensay!” “Oh, fuck- god- you’re so tight, baby. Good girl- you like sensei’s cock deep inside you? Is this what you wanted?” You whimper and nod- cheek scrubbing against the desk, cunt gripping his cock like a vice. He grunts and grabs onto your hips, forces your head up and back as the tie drags you and forces your back to arch in a tight, painful angle. Still feels good, though. Still feels like everything you wanted. You want- need- so much more. “Shoulda done this sooner,” your teacher groans out. “Shoulda- fuck!” He slams in you deep enough to have your eyes rolling back, hard enough to have your whole body shaking and your nails clawing across his desk. “C’mon, c’mon- take it- take it! Sensei is- Sensei is gonna fill you up- gonna give that needy cunt what it needs!” He’s gonna- he’s gonna- oh, god! Doctor Natsuo fucks into you faster and faster- the movements jarring you against the desk and making it rock, the jab of his cock rushing you to the height of pleasure again. You cry out as he slams into you- the tie falling from your lips as he drops it and forces you back onto the desk, slides his arms under you and grips your shoulders, fucks into you rough and deep and so, so perfectly. Warmth floods inside your pussy and you whimper as you’re filled with your sensei’s seed, twitch and come on his cock again- lashes fluttering and teeth digging into your lip to muffle your whine, honeyed insides milking his dick as if you need more. You do need more- you do. How could you have ever imagined one time would be enough to satisfy your fantasies? Your teacher pants and grinds into you- hot breath fanning over your cheek and his cock sliding out with a wet pop whenever he draws his hips back. You whimper at the loss but mewl when his fingers draw up your slit, slide back and down onto your knees as exhaustion slips over you. Fuck...fuck, did that just happen? A touch to your cheek has you looking up and you blink hazily at your sensei’s flushed cheeks, the shining and wet cock that he stuffs inside his trousers. “Satisfied?” he asks, slightly breathless and a groan hiding in his voice. “Going to be a good girl now? No more teasing sensei?” You nod, not quite thinking over the action or processing the words, only close your eyes when the slightest smile flits across his lips, when his fingers brush over your cheek and his gaze goes heavy lidded. “Sensei...” His fingers glance over your jawline and down low, stroke over your new hickey and bring a mewl. With your eyes closed, you can’t see the way his expression ripples with something hesitant and something curious, something...greedy. Strong hands help you up from the floor and you shudder as your legs tremble, press against his chest and look up at him with heavy eyes, a yearning that you can’t quite hide. He strokes your hair and it’s...nice. Unexpected from the way he reacted before, so very welcome. “...I was harsh with you.” The apologetic tone is also unexpected. Your professor seems to almost fluster, hesitates as he strokes your hair again and allows his grey gaze to look over your flushed cheeks and parted lips, the desire that you can’t quite hide. “...you were a good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and making you flush even more. “...you gonna keep being good? Not tell?” Of course you’re not going to tell. Of course you’re not going to risk this. You nod without any hesitation and you’re graced with a smile, another kiss that has you wanting to melt against him. “Then in that case...” You blink and watch as he breathes in deep, tilt your head as your heart begins to flutter in your chest. “Come over tonight. I can give you what you want properly.” He wants...he wants you to come over? He wants to fuck you again? You could swear it’s almost a smirk that forms on his face whenever your eyes widen and your breath catches. “I- I...yes, please.” He hums and he steps away- leaving you to stumble slightly and look at him in wonder, an unending adoration that you had pretended wasn’t underneath all your lust for him. “Good. But for now...” Sensei takes a deep breath and then he smiles at you- this time a bit wry, a little amused. “You’re going to be late for your next class.” Next class? Oh- oh shit! A squeak escapes you and you hurry to gather up all your stuff, shove your books in your arms and race toward the door. “Hey.” You freeze as you grab onto the doorknob and nearly tumble into it, look back toward your sensei. “I want you to call me Natsuo when we’re alone.” He- he what? Oh. Oh. You open your mouth, but the trilling of the bell cuts you off and you’re left only with the time to nod and flush, mumble out a soft, “Yes, sir” before you have to rush out the room. You head toward your next class with weak legs and cheeks red from where your sensei’s tie pulled deep into your skin, hair a mess and your teacher’s- Natsuo’s- cum dripping down your thighs. You smile as you rush off to your next class- happy and fucked, eager to see what Natsuo has in store for you later that night.

#natsuo todoroki x reader #rooni's shit #tw breeding kink #Anonymous

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nanowrimo · 3 years

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5 Tips for Fast Drafting from a New York Times Bestselling Author

NaNoWriMo is basically an exercise in fast drafting: getting as much of the first draft of the story as you can on the page as quickly as possible. Today, bestselling author J. Elle is here to share some pro tips for fast drafting: My first middle grade novel took me nine days to write.

The first draft was about 40,000 words or so. And yes, it needed to be revised before it sold to a publisher. But the meat of the story was on the page in just over a week’s time. I’d never drafted anything quite that fast before. Within a single month I’d written an entire novel, revised it a couple times and readied it for sale. A few months later that novel sold at auction and will be on shelves May 2022.

I still look back on this feat with a bit of shock and awe. To date I’ve sold five novels to major publishers, two young adult, two middle grade and one non fiction and my experience fast drafting has forever altered the way I approach writing. I should mention, fast drafting isn’t for everyone. Writing is such a personal thing and each storyteller has their own process, but in the event getting the first draft out is the biggest hurdle for you, like it is for me, I’m going to share five tips for knocking out that first draft in record time.

1. Start with a SHORT story pitch.

Pitching a story in a few words is tough. But it’s a worthy effort and the best use of your time before you get any words on the page. Why? Because it helps you hone in on the core of your story and its hook. A good short pitch involves the character, their dilemma, and a hint of the stakes. In October of 2018 I pitched my YA debut novel in a tweet which then blew up. Not many words can fit in a tweet, but by choosing the right set of words, I was able to convey the heart of my story and it really resonated. (From that tweet, I signed with a literary agent and sold my debut novel to a Big 5 publisher in a six-figure-deal.) The biggest favor you can do for yourself is understand the story—its essence, its core—you’re trying to tell before you start drafting. And that’s hard. But the more you play around with creating a short pitch, you’ll begin to see a clear snapshot of what your book is going to be about. That’s your jumping off point.

2. Expand your pitch into tent pole beats.

From your short pitch, spend some time deciding on what your major beats are. Now, yes this is a bit like outlining. And for you pantsers out there, I empathize with you. I was a pantser and still am in many ways. But I still do this step because this step ultimately saves me time. The beauty of fast drafting is that you know what you need to do when you sit down to type. So a lot of these steps are about doing pre-work so that when you sit down to type you’re not spinning your wheels to figure out what to type. Instead you’ll have a clear goal and you’ll be ready to execute it. Also, note that the goal isn’t to perfect each of these steps, but instead to try to do each step, to the best of your ability, and in a way that makes sense.

I could write an entire piece on beat sheeting novels (which I love and do for all my books), but for the purposes here, I’ve organized the main things you want to know below in a series of questions. Simply answer each, make a chart if you like that sort of thing, and once you have each question filled out in a way that logically makes sense, move on to the next step. (NOTE: It’s a good idea to get feedback on this step if you have critique partners and fellow writers you trust.)

Opening Scene - Who is the character before the world changes?

Inciting Incident - What happens that forces them to make a choice, changing their lives forever? What are they choosing between?

“A” Plot - What is that choice they make? What are they pursuing or working toward? Finding information? Going on a quest? Uncovering the truth behind a murder?

Stakes - What are the stakes of the “A” plot? What’s at risk if they fail to accomplish whatever they’re pursuing? It should be something that personally affects them or someone / something they care about.

“B” Plot / Character - Who or what is the theme of the story? What character in your story is going to embody that theme and play a key role in helping the main character change?

Midpoint - what happens in the middle of the book to change the character’s direction. Usually it’s some bit of new information or they realize things are not as they seem.

Stakes Raise - How do the stakes (what’s at risk if they fail) raise after the middle of the book?

Character Arc - what does your character believe about the world in the beginning of the book that by the book’s end they will no longer believe? (An extension of this question is: what things can happen in this character’s life to facilitate them incrementally learning this big truth? If you don’t know this question right off, that’s okay. But this is a question you want to go back to every now and again, even after you finish the first draft, to ensure your character is actively involved in a plot that is resulting in their change.)

Failure - How will your character fail big? This happens at about the 75% point of the book and it's the final moment of failure, usually, before they pick themselves up off the ground (figuratively or literally) and learn the lesson they’ve needed to learn. There forward they act on their new belief to the end of the book, demonstrating how they’re changed.

If you’d like a more in depth look at how to beat sheet a novel, I strongly suggest reading Jessica Brody’s Save The Cat Writes A Novel.

3. Flesh out your beats into a detailed synopsis.

Now the fun part! This step is the most helpful thing you can do to enable yourself to fast draft.

Write a mini version of your story, also known as a detailed synopsis. The key to writing synopses is not to worry about the voice, but instead what happens. Try to convey what happens and its impact on the character to show how the story moves from tent pole moment to tent pole moment (per the step above). This takes some trial and error and you may get annoyed with yourself because it’s not as easy as it seems. But, I’ve seen that if you can write a compelling and cohesive synopsis, the draft that you execute will be far stronger and more efficiently executed.

Definitely get beta feedback on your synopsis from writing friends you trust. It’s worth going over this a few times to get it right. In terms of length, aim for 3-4 pages for a middle grade novel and 5-10 pages for a young adult or adult novel. These are just general guidelines. My latest YA novel required a fifteen page synopsis and I am very glad I did it because it conveys the tone, arc, and plot of the novel and the main plot threads quite well, which allowed me to draft the first 23,000 words of the story in five days.

4. Summarize each scene.

(Note: a chapter can have more than one scene.)

Okay, we’re getting really close to writing! Now that you have a mini version of your story, consider how you will break it up into scenes. This doesn't need to be perfect, but spend some time figuring how to stretch your synopsis into a full novel. Give each scene a short summary. Aim for a few sentences, no more than a paragraph, just so you know what needs to happen in that scene (or scenes). Do not skip this step. I repeat, do not skip this step. This step allows you to sit down and execute the scene without figuring out what to write. The “figuring out” part is where a lot of writers slow down. Do that in the summaries so when it’s time to draft you are ready to execute, not sort out details.

5. Write with a goal in mind.

Plan your writing days. I’m not talking anything extensive here. Just grab your phone calendar or a post-it note and write down which days you want to do which scenes. Then on writing day re-read that summary and execute it. If you’ve done all the pre-work the words will fly from your fingers. Don’t worry about grammar, typos, reading back what you did. Insert fillers such as, “TITLE” or “NAME” for details you haven’t worked out yet. Just get the scene that you’ve summarized out. The goal is to finish the draft. After that is when you make sure it all works together through revisions and fill in the details. Right now the goal is finishing the draft. It literally just needs to exist!

If you’ve done all five steps, pat yourself on the back because congrats, you’re ready to fast draft! Don’t hesitate to tag me on socials if you try this method out and it works for you. I’d love to hear how it goes!

J.Elle is the New York Times bestselling author of Wings of Ebony. Elle has a Bachelor’s of journalism and an MA in educational administration and human development. She grew up in Texas, but has lived all over, from coast to coast which she credits as inspiration for her writing. These days the former educator can be found mentoring aspiring authors, binging reality TV, loving on her three littles, or cooking up something true to her Louisiana roots.

Website: WingsOfEbony.com

Twitter: @AuthorJ_Elle

Instagram: @AuthorJ.Elle

TikTok: @authorjelle

#nanowrimo #writing #amwriting #writing advice #first draft #nano prep #camp nanowrimo #by nano guest #j. elle

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writing-in-lesbian · 3 years

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You wanted to sleep with a goddess but instead had to settle for a priestess

Pairing: Yelena / F!Reader

Tags: angst, fluff, happy ending, mentions of alcohol

Rating: PG-15 (I guess?)

Word count: 2.5k

Translation: Pridurok = jerk

Disclaimer: all the Marvel characters mentioned don’t belong to me (if they did, Nat would be alive and Wanda would be hugged and in therapy!)

Synopsis: Inspired on an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S “You and Yelena have been dating for almost 3 years and you plan on proposing on your anniversary, but the universe has other plans and after a game of true or dare game you have to confess who you were actually looking to hook up the night you and Yelena did it.”

AN2: English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistake. I’m also on AO3 as: writinginlesbian

~~~~~~~

The light coming through the windows is the first thing you notice, the warm sensation on your skin rousing you from your deep slumber. Groaning a little, you refuse to open your eyes, instead cuddling further into the cozy feel next to you. Now that sleeps is evasive, the second thing you notice is your bladder demanding you take a trip to the washroom.

Opening your eyes reluctantly, the third thing you notice is the mass of sand blond hair in front of you, tightening your hold on her you smile and hum contentedly, earning a little grunt from the body in front of you.

Chuckling, your lips place a kiss on her bare shoulder before you finally release her. Stretching your body, your neck and back crack a little making you moan softly at the relaxation.

“You better keep quiet y/l/n or I won’t be hold responsible if I keep you hostage in bed all day” a groggily raspy little voice informs you, her Russian accent thicker in the mornings.

Smiling and shaking your head, you get up from the bed and march to the in-suite bathroom, hearing Yelena mumble something similar to spoilsport before closing the door as quiet as possibly.

Yelena Belova. Your girlfriend.

A little angry ball on the outside but a total dorky cinnamon roll on the inside (although she would never admit this to anyone), came into your life like a hurricane. Her sarcastic side and dark humor was one of the things you noticed right away, followed by those musky green eyes, capable of grounding and keeping you in your toes with just one look. How you got her to agree to date you after hooking up one night, is still something you have troubles believing it but here you are, sharing an apartment with her, a dog named Fanny (which she got to name) and just a week away of your three year anniversary… the one where you plan on proposing.

You got the ring ready, specially custom made to your request, paid by Tony (as annoying he can be, he’s been more family to you than your blood family). He squealed (actually squealed) when you told him about your plan for proposing and insisted on being your “best man of honor”.

Finishing your business, you wash your hands and clean your face with cold water, staring at your reflection in the mirror and smiling at the sight of Yelena’s creams and her messy side compared to the organized one of yours. You can’t wait for Saturday to get here soon enough.

The sound of the alarm from your cellphone can be heard through the door, followed by a thud and then silence. You forgot to change it last night, so of course it ringed at 7am disturbing the dreams of the beauty in your bed.

“You better not have broken my phone again Yelena” you try to be serious while walking back to the bed.

“So it’s more important a phone than my sleep time? Okey, I see how it is, pridurok” she says covered in blankets, but you know she’s pouting.

You get back to bed, picking up your phone quickly inspecting it placing it on the nightstand, kneeling in front of her and slowly you take the covers off her face. She’s looking at you with and unreadable expression and you can’t think how it’s so similar to the one her sister often gives you during training sessions.

“No, you’re more important to me love… but this would be the third phone screen you break and I doubt Tony would be happy about it” you said while bopping her nose with your finger.

Yelena looks at you and cracks a tiny smile. You kiss her forehead, standing up you try to leave but her hand at your wrist stops you. You turn to her… only to find her middle finger directed at you.

“Still that damned thing woke me up and you weren’t here, so it deserves the fall” You chuckle as you see Yelena rolls off and pretends going back to sleep.

You go downstairs and start preparing breakfast after turning on the coffee machine. You know Yelena needs a little bit of a kick to fully wake up. While you wait, you open the “just add water pancake mixture” opting to add half milk and half water with a little bit of melted butter for extra fluffiness. After getting the pancakes ready, you go to the fridge to pick some fruit before placing it at the counter to be chopped.

Hearing soft padded steps nearing the kitchen, you grab a plate and put some pancakes on it, grabbing some strawberries and quickly cutting them in four, adding it to the plate along with some blueberries. The coffee pot indicates it’s ready so you grab a blue mug and fill it with the exquisite elixir, snatching some clutter, you place everything except the cup on the table just as Yelena enters the room.

Without a word she grabs the cup form your hands inhaling it before taking a sip. A hum and nod of approval is all you receive before a peck on your lips. Smiling you gather a plate for yourself and proceed to seat with her at the table. You both make small talk while eating before she asks your plans for the day.

“I’m supposed to meet with your sister in about an hour and then lunch with Wands and Bucky. Might get to see Tony in the afternoon though, depending on how my cellphone is” you try to be serious but the smirk on your face gives you away.

“Your phone is fine pridurok, I checked it before coming downstairs”

“Okey, then I shall be back around 6ish. Wanna do something babes? Get advantage of the weekend and that?”

“Maybe”

Before you can propose a plan, Yelena’s phone sounds. She looks at the display before answering.

“Hey mama”

You wave at her and she catches your intention, passing your regards to Melina before leaving the room. You decided to send a quick text to Natasha before texting Tony telling him you’ll meet him quick before heading to your lunch date to pick up the ring.

Cleaning up the table and putting the rest of the pancakes and fruit back on the fridge, you leave the kitchen and find Yelena still talking on the living room. You finish getting ready as you don’t wanna be late with Nat. This might be the most important coffee date you have with her, you know, since you’ll be asking for her little sister hand in marriage, so you don’t want to risk it by making her angry by being late.

Of all of Yelena’s family, Nat is the one you worry must about. She’s so fierce and protective when it comes to her baby sister. Despite being reluctant at first, (she’s your BFF so she knows all your dating history) she approved of you once she saw how happy you made Yelena, not before giving you the scariest shovel talk anyone can give. Melina and Alexei both agreed immediately, both of them giving you a slightly (emphasis on slightly) less frightening talk of “you hurt my baby daughter I won’t hesitate to kill you” talk than Natasha’s. You tried to joke by saying that if you ever hurt Yelena, she would be the first one to chop your head off before them. It didn’t make them laugh.

Grabbing the keys, you check your cellphone to see Tony’s reply consisting of only a thumbs up emoji. Making your way to the living room, you wave in front of Yelena, giving her a quick peck on her lips before whispering a “see ya later babes. Love you” before leaving.

// // //

You can’t help being nervous. In all your life you never imagined thinking of getting married. You liked your space and time alone, you weren’t afraid of intimacy or commitment, but you never quite connected with your past partners in the level you connected with Yelena. Strange thing honestly, considering how you started dating: hooking up after Steve and Peggy’s wedding. You both tried to keep it casual and secret, not wanting to make a huge deal about it. And you were fine with it until one day when you were having lunch with all your friends at Natasha’s place, you saw Yelena and your breath caught in your throat and you knew, you just knew you were in love with her.

“What has you smiling like an idiot?” A raspy voice brings you back to the present.

Noticing just now, Natasha is seated in front of you cup of coffee in her hands. You must have spaced out more than you thought since there is a refilled cup where your last empty one was.

“Yelena” you said it without a doubt, a smile on your lips.

Natasha smiled amused by it. In all of the years she has known you, she never saw you this smitten and happy with someone. And honestly she was happy it was with her baby sister. You both were a cute couple, with their ups and downs, but were still going strong and you both took care of each other.

“So where did you left her? It’s weird to see you without her attached to your side”

“She’s at home. I know she wouldn’t like to be up and out this early being Saturday”

“You asked me for coffee this early on purpose”

It’s meant to be said as a joke but giving the current topic you want to talk with her you don’t laugh.

“I did actually. I wanted to talk with you about something”

Natasha sees the seriousness on your face. She stares you for a little bit before her curiosity gets the best of her.

“Okey”

Your leg stars bouncing and Nat takes notice of it. Your hands grab the cup in front of you to avoid drumming the table with your fingers, a habit you do when your nervous.

“It’s about Yelena”

Nat’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion. You were smiling a few minutes ago so it shouldn’t be nothing bad, right?

“What about her?” You can’t help to flinch a little bit with the hardness of her tone.

Your fingers drum a little on the cup, you open your mouth but no words came out. You sigh.

Nat is silently observing you, giving the benefit of the doubt and actually waiting for you to speak, but since is her little sister you wanted to talk about, she can’t help but get impatient.

You heard her huff in annoyance after what seems seconds but it has been a few minutes, you got lost in your mind again.

“Iwanttoaskforyourpermissiontomarryher” you say in one breath, taking half of your coffee in one gulp and not looking at her.

Natasha blinks in surprise, trying to decipher what you just said. Her mouth opens slightly once she process what you just dropped on her.

“You… you want to marry her. My little sister, Yelena… you want to marry her?”

Finally looking up you see Natasha is a little bit speechless. Something you haven’t seen in like never. You try to gauge her reaction but she’s a master in hiding her emotions, so you opt to answer her honestly any question she might have.

“Yeah, I do”

“Have you proposed to her though?” a fair question.

“No. I wanted to talk with you first”

“Why?”

“You’re her big sister, your blessing is important to me Tasha. I know that we both think that this tradition of asking for someone’s hand in marriage is an archaic thing and that and Yelena would probably get angry if she knew I did this, but you mean a lot to her, she adores you and respects you a lot. I know I could work around your parents but if you were to oppose, I don’t think Yelena would be as happy. Plus you’re my best friend Nat, I care about you”

Natasha stays silent thinking in what you just said. Basically, you gave her a lot of power here, if she were to say no, would you really not propose? She has seen you grow by Yelena’s side and has seen the same with her sister. She knows you never would hurt her.

“So if I would to say no?”

Your stomach hurts at hearing that. You drop your eyes to the table before answering.

“I might postpone proposing but I would still do it”

“You really love her”

“More than anything, I’m in love with her Tasha” the smile on your face and the brightness of your eyes give her all the answers to the questions she might have.

When she found out you were hooking up with Yelena she was so mad and furious with you, more so when you denied it when she confronted you about it. She was on her way to forbid you to see her sister when she caught you both asleep on the couch. Yelena had her head on your chest while you hold her securely in your arms. Both your faces were peaceful and happy.

“When are you planning on doing it?”

You looked up surprised.

“Saturday at-”

“Your dinner anniversary”

“Yeah… how-”

“It’s all I’ve been hearing Lena talk about for the last week, this big dinner plan you have for it and how you won’t tell her what it is, so she doesn’t know what to wear and is a ball of nerves, is kinda annoying actually”

You can’t help but blush at hearing that. You know the Romanoff-Belova sisters are reserved so the fact that Yelena has been gushing about your relationship to her sister has your stomach doing flops and your heart beating harder.

Natasha studies your face and can’t help but smile with you.

“Alright y/l/n, you have my blessing to marry my sister. Don’t fuck it up okey? It’s my baby sister I’m trusting you with”

You are speechless for a moment. You know deep down that she would say yes, but hearing it saying it it’s another thing. You stand up and grab her in a bone crushing hug.

“O…key… need… to breath…”

“Sorry, sorry… thank you Nat, really, you don’t know what it means to me, truly”

“So you have a ring picked yet?”

“Yes. Actually, I’m meeting Tony before lunch to pick it up, wanna come?”

“Of course, I need to make sure my baby sister gets the best of the best”

You laugh and throw the napkin at her, she catches easily but laughs with you. You’re not nervous anymore, at least for the moment.

Now, you only need to ask Yelena… easy right?

#yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #first work for this fandom #au #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #cross posted on ao3

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onewhoturns · 2 years

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First line meme

I was tagged by @sarsaparillia

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

Ooooh fun fun fun. I’m betting they’re all quippy or quotes, cause that’s basically always how I get myself interested in a scene, but let’s find out! [also I’m including some unpublished or tumblr-only shared things, cause I haven’t written much lately O_O’] [also only including things where I wrote the opening lines, if it’s a collab] [okay there was a ton of rp stuff I skipped and some I included cause I’m just shrug on what to include tbh] [probably should’ve included the prompt fills I did on Sam’s blog but my system isn’t that organized]

Some are first sentence, some are first couple of sentences, depending how long the sentences were 😅

1. Purpose Interruptus (cute lil halloween witch/ghost story):: It was the last straw. Past the last straw.

2. <jam boarding school au> (au, sam/jed):: Sam tugged uncomfortably at the hem of her skirt.

3. <untitled YA romance collab> (original, nerd/punk ship):: New year, new Kel.

4. <that WereU project> (au, backstory):: There was no worse time than in the middle of class for it to happen.

5. Lucky in Love (oxenfree, alex/jonas bartender au -> reality tv au):: “What is this?”

6. Unwilling Survivor (dead by daylight, morreid (frank/oc)):: Sam woke up in an unfamiliar house.

7. Holy Spirits (oxenfree, alex/jonas bartender au):: It’s half past 1 on a Saturday night.

8. Cut Jaw, Green Jacket (oxenfree, alex/jonas michael lives au):: Jonas kicks his feet against the crossbar of his chair, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He is not a fan of school offices.

9. pretty (we know the devil, jupiter/neptune):: Neptune is a talker.

10. the first appointment (oxenfree, jonas & therapist):: An appointment. ‘Like a doctor’s visit.’ Yeah. Well, maybe.

Tagging @hirvitank @hoteggbabushka @kinda-spooky-ghosty @h4mm132l1c3 @sureinsunlight @artabria @artemis-crimson and anyone else that feels like it, no pressure ^^

#my writing #tag meme #oxenfree #wktd #dbd #jonalex #jupitune #morreid

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emma-nation · 3 years

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The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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Murder Is Not On The Schedule (Ron Speirs x Reader)

So this is loosely based on a prompt I found on Pinterest about murder not being on today’s schedule and immediately thought SPEIRS! I also wasn’t feeling great this week so I wanted to write something lighthearted...ya know? So this is what my brain came up with.

Warnings: some swearing, sexual tension (cuz i can’t seem to write Speirs without it...sorry?), my poor attempts at humor

Words:2500

Tag List: @happyveday @sydney-m @saritanotserena

The sound of mortars and 88s followed me as I walked into the room being used for Captain Speirs' office in Haguenau. Those same sounds should be terrifying but no one flinched anymore thanks to Bastogne. The office was in the back of Easy HQ, looking towards the river. All the walls and windows were still intact, even if the place was dreary and drafty, it fulfilled its purpose.

Speirs, who had been staring out the window in parade rest, turned around to lean back against the window and looked over at me. "Lip in bed?"

"Yeah. Finally convinced him that I could handle it." I dropped down onto one of the two chairs. Both chairs were placed at the table which occupied the center of the room.

Lipton was an admirable man, second only to Winters himself. But Christ Almighty, he had to be the worst patient with his perpetual refusal to rest. I did not envy any of the medics who were diligently trying to take care of him. It pretty much took both myself and Luz to drag him to one of the cots in the back and me swearing in blood that if I needed help, I would find him.

And if I threatened him a little, no one needs to know, right?

"Well, I appreciate you stepping up and taking over for Lipton while he is sick."

I shrugged, already looking at all the paperwork spread out on the table. "He kept us together while in Bastogne. It's the least I can do. Besides, I used to be a secretary before joining up. It's not a problem."

"Lucky us." He murmured, distractedly. One of his hands tapped a repetitive pattern on his thigh as he seemed to stare at nothing.

I knew there was to be a patrol tonight. A prisoner snatch. From what little I had overheard and observed, it weighed heavily on both Lipton and Speirs. My guess was all the names had not been chosen yet on who had to go. Glancing at Speirs, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, repetitive tapping, biting just the inside corner of his lip...he was working on the list in his head.

I could not help it as my eyes traced his jawline...his messy hair that looked so damn soft...those dark eyes that pierce your soul but also lit up like a beacon when amused. He looked like a rugged, dirty Greek god with an affinity for bloodlust. Even his hands looked perfect to hold my--

You are here to help. NOT OGLE YOUR CO!

Even if he is pretty.

Handsome?

Gorgeous?

Wet dream worthy?

Whoa! Too much. Pull up, you buffoon!

With all my willpower, I turned back to focus on organizing the reports on the table and checking to make sure we had enough paper. Who knew the army used so much paperwork? Everything had to be documented. I could see why it seemed Winters never left his office...or Nixon. Without Lipton's help, I doubted Speirs would ever see his men. I absent-mindedly wondered if I should offer to help out more often.

Obviously out of the goodness of my heart and not to ogle the handsome devil currently before me.

Nope.

Several minutes later, there was a knock on the door. After Speirs bid them enter, two replacements stepped into the room. Their ODs were clean, helmets practically sparkled in the sunlight, eagerness written all over their faces. They did not carry the weariness from the Ardennes on their shoulders. They still looked like boys wanting to play soldier with the other neighborhood kids. All I could figure was they had gotten dropped off with the other soldiers returning from the hospital.

Both rapidly saluted Speirs, who only lazily saluted in response, still leaning against the window.

"Captain, sir." The shorter of the two spoke first, practically bouncing on his toes. "We were wondering if we'd see some action soon."

The other one chimed in, a proud smile exaggerating his chubby cheeks. "Yeah, we heard a rumor there's a patrol. Sir, we're ready to get our rifles dirty by killing Krauts, sir."

Christ. These two are greener than the Jolly Green Giant.

I quickly muffled a snort by turning it into a cough. It must have not been as subtle as I hoped with the side-eye Speirs gave me.

Speirs sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Your platoon leader will let you know. I suggest you head back to your OP… and try not to get hit by mortars or snipers on your way there."

The two glanced at one another, seeming to remember that Nazis were just as likely to kill them. A necessary reminder. After another round of salutes, they hurried out and closed the door behind them.

"Jesus Christ! If I hear those two asking about killing Krauts again, I'll shoot them both…. And murder wasn't on my agenda today."

"Murder usually isn't on anyone's agenda." I murmured, making notes on a supply list. We definitely needed more ammo...and chocolate bars. There might be a mutiny if we did not receive more chocolate bars and cigarettes.

"No, it's on mine. Just not until Thursday."

Wait….

...What?

My head whipped up to stare at Speirs. I honestly was unsure if he was joking or serious. I mean, hell, we all knew the rumors about him. With his signature serious expression, he held my gaze, as if waiting for me to question him. I chose not to. Really, I believed him. He would be the one to throw a grenade near his men to get them to pay attention. Or get bored and sneak into the enemy's camp to steal their rifles or something just to mess with them.

Then I saw the twitch of his lips, forcing back a smile.

At that I laughed, shaking my head. "No offense, sir, but I think we need to find something better for you to do with your time."

"Oh?" He tipped his head slightly, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Like what?"

Me.

Shit. Don't say that aloud.

"Mmm…" I tapped my lip with my finger, pretending to think about it. "Preferably something other than terrorizing your men."

"Ah, but it's fun. You should join me."

I shook my head, not even trying to suppress the indulgent smile on my face. What had my life become? Here I was joking with CAPTAIN SPEIRS about committing murder…. for fun? Later I should question my sanity, but right now, I was more than amused to see him in this new lightheartedness. I had only ever seen him always stoic, poised, ready for anything in war. I found this new side of him only increased his attractiveness.

Damn it.

"What are you doing on Thursday?" He probed, still watching me with a hawk-like gaze.

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. If he was going to joke around, I felt I could return the favor. "Maybe I'm going on a date."

"With who?"

"Whoever can afford me, I guess."

He laughed, widening my own smile. I had never heard him laugh before, and if I could admit it to myself, the world was missing out without that sound. He shoved off the window, to come sit on the corner of the table, one leg dangling off the side, almost touching the chair I sat on. "And what would a date with you consist of?"

I thought back to before the war. Back before I was weighed down by pain and death. What my life had once entailed. "An elegant dinner at the best restaurant around. Pictures or dancing afterwards. I'm not picky. Then after all that, if I had a very good time, I might be tempted to bring him back to my apartment for some late-night drinks and, well, we'd see where it went from there. But don't tell my mother that last part."

"Sounds like you've got it all planned out."

"I'm a lady who knows what she wants."

"Mmm…" He ran a hand over the stubble growing on his jaw. "I need to change my schedule for Thursday now."

This information you are trying to process does not compute. Please try again.

"You taking me out on the date?" I teased back, leaning back slightly in my chair. Mentally, I prepared for him to make a joke about killing whomever was taking me out for the company's sake or something along those lines, since the idea of him having interest in me was preposterous.

In one swift move, he shifted over so his leg was between mine allowing him to lean forward and hover over me. The air between us suddenly felt hot compared to the rest of the room. Those dark eyes scanned me, as if slowly undressing me with both the utmost care but also unbridled passion. "Yes. Though we might have to skip with the elegant dinner. I'll share the better parts of the K rations. We also might need to skip the pictures or dancing. But I am positive I can steal some of Nixon's Vat 69 and we can go straight to the late-night drinks. Of course, I'll be a gentleman and let the lady decide what happens after." He finished with a cocky wink at me.

Holy mother of-

I was not ready for that.

I could only stare at him for a long moment. My body practically throbbed for him with the image he painted in my mind. The way his voice became so smooth and sensual. The peak of his tongue as he quickly licked his lips before speaking. Now he sat there, his leg dangling between mine, keeping me glued to my seat. Subtly, I tried to press my thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure building. Not that it helped with his intense gaze making my heart beat faster and his lazy smile telling me he KNEW the effect he was having on me.

Act cool.

Act cool!

Play it off!

I leaned forward, smirking. "Do you always offer to take your executive officers out on a date? If so, I can see why Lipton likes you so much."

He chuckled, eyes alluring and heated. "No, not all of them. Just the ones that I've been admiring for some time."

Well shit.

Abort.

Abort!

Don't you dare, you've dreamed about this man before. Ride it out, you coward!

I blinked in surprise but before I could respond, he had already made his move. He leaned forward and braced his hands on the arms of my chair, hovering over me. His face now was only inches from mine. I was positive he could hear how fast my heart was beating. My lips parted, trying to encourage breath into my lungs that were struggling to send oxygen to my brain. His eyes drifted down to my lips and lingered there. As if in compliance, my own eyes glanced at his lips, how soft they looked, even slightly chapped still from our time in Bastogne. His hands slid ever so slowly further up the arms of the chair, stopping just next to my elbows. Now I could see the faint lines around his eyes. His hair slipped forward, calling my eyes upward. I struggled to not reach forward and touch it. To see how it felt with my fingers running through it. A soft chuckle had my eyes snapped back to his, as he watched me with an intensity that border-lined frightening and lascivious.

I gulped. "Captain Speirs…"

"No," he just barely ran the tip of his nose over the shell of my ear. His hot breath caressed my skin. My eyes fluttered closed on their own accord; my body unable to handle the pleasurable sensation. He whispered into my ear, voice fully commanding and salacious. "No, you call me Ron when we're alone."

Mission control. We are going down. I repeat we are going down in flames!

My underwear was not prepared for this!

"Ron." I liked the way his name rolled off my lips. If the quiet, sharp inhale from him said anyway, he liked the way it sounded too. Tilting my head just the slightest, I could look up into those dark, smoldering eyes. Our lips though...I could taste his breath on my tongue. I could feel the warmth from his skin radiating onto mine, turning me into a puddle of desire.

Oh God, he smelled like everything that is beautifully masculine. Not the nasty, sweaty teenage boy but the pheromones that make your ovaries take notice and your uterus demands for something to be done with it. How was that possible?

"I'll...um, I'll make sure to add this to your schedule on Thursday." I whispered, almost able to feel his lips ghost over mine as my lips formed each word.

"Excellent."

His hand trailed up my arm, setting fire to my nerves. Gently, he wrapped it around the base of my throat, his thumb rubbing a pattern into my skin. The whole time our eyes remained locked. His pupils dilated, desire coloring them and I wondered if mine looked the same. The small amount of air between us was thick with tension and salacity. My body screamed for me to drag him down and crash our lips together. To see if he tasted as good as he looked. My hands were stuck in my lap though. It felt like we were in a stalemate, unable to move forward, to take that next step.

If something does not happen, I swear I will spontaneously combust!

Then someone knocked on the closed door.

Dear universe. That was NOT what I meant!

With a sigh, he slipped his hand up to rub his thumb along my bottom lip for the briefest of seconds. I swear the regret coursing through my veins, I could see mirrored in his eyes. Ever so slowly he retracted his hand and leaned back, but stayed on the edge of his desk, his leg still between mine.

"Enter." He called out, only turning his heavy gaze from mine when the person stepped through.

First Sergeant Talbert walked in, opening his mouth then hesitated for a second as his eyes seemed to take in but not fully comprehend the scene before him. "Um, sir, there's a couple of replacements asking about a patrol…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

I laughed at Speirs' pained expression. Quickly, I jumped to my feet and brazenly patted his chest, my hand lingering on the feel under my palm. "I'll take care of it before murder happens."

"That's not till Thursday." He looked at me with a wry grin. His hand subtly reached forward to skim my hip before grabbing the edge of the table.

"Remember, you're busy now. Murder has to wait."

"Fine. Friday it is then."

"If you have the energy after." I winked at him. I only caught a glimpse of the hunger that flooded his eyes before I turned on my heels and headed out the door. The whole way out I could feel his heated gaze on my back, like his fingers were trailing down my spine. I shivered in anticipation for what it would really feel like.

I'll make sure he doesn't have the energy to terrorize Easy… I'm definitely doing this for their sakes… completely self-sacrificing… yep, I won't enjoy this at all.

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #ronald speirs #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #ww2 #world war 2 #mzwrites

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depressedhatakekakashi · 3 years

Text

My Entry for the @konoblog-simps College Au event. I had to write this after moving to my new place with little to no actual wifi and most of it was done on my phone so...ya, that was fun lol.

Characters: Hatake Kakashi, Anko, Maito Gai, Uchiha Obito, Nohara Rin, Genma.

AO3

Tags: College au

Word count: 2791

Summary: Hatake Kakashi is a genius. Top of his class in every subject, he rarely ever has to put effort into his assignments, and as a rule he doesn't. Except when it comes to Photography.

Special thanks: @saudade-mayari and @punk-pandame for help me out by Betaing the fic i had to write on my phone mostly.

Biology had never been one of Kakashi’s favourite subjects. It was tedious, boring and had little to offer that challenged him in a meaningful way. Of course, that could be said about most of the classes that he took, but today’s problem was biology.

He’d deal with the other classes when he had to sit in them listening to the professor drone on about a boring lab that involved little to no actual skill and could just as easily be done on a computer. There were so many more interesting things he could be doing with this time.

Things he could be learning without having to cut open a frog just to get a good look at its insides.

“Alright!” Hearing Anko’s cheerful voice, Kakashi directed his gaze towards her. The only thing that could be expected when Anko was happy about something, was danger. It was what Anko lived for. The thing that gave her life, and today was no exception judging by the gleeful look in her eyes. “Let’s see what’s hidden inside of you.”

How she could have so much fun with something as simple as a dissection, Kakashi would never know. Though, at least she could find some enjoyment in a class that offered nothing but boredom for him and many others. So much fun that even when she started to cut into the poor frog’s exposed belly, there was still a giant grin on her face. An expression that made her look a little mad, in his opinion.

One that he couldn’t help but feel the urge to photograph.

Forgetting about the task at hand, he reached down to grab the messenger bag that he had set down beside his stool upon taking his seat and quickly dug out his digital camera. A small, simple camera that he had bought specifically for his photography class. Not a purchase that he had been expecting to make when he decided what subjects he wanted to take this semester, but easily the best purchase he had made. No 30,000 Yen textbook could ever hope to compare to the beauty of this camera.

Switching the camera on, he peered through the viewfinder and waited for the lens to come into focus. Just as he pressed the shutter button, successfully capturing a photo, Anko threw her head back and cackled. Even without looking at the LCD Display to see the picture that he had captured, Kakashi could already tell that it was perfect. With a look of maniacal glee on her face, Anko painted a delightful picture of the perfect Biology student. Someone who could find excitement in even the most mundane task set in front of them.

If anyone ever asked Kakashi to choose one picture to show people what a mad scientist would look like in real life, he would have to choose this one. There wasn’t a soul in the world who had ‘mad scientist’ down quite as perfectly as Anko, and if Biology class was good for anything it was showing just how much joy the woman got from things that would disgust or bore any other human.

“Mr. Hatake,” dragging his eyes off of his camera, Kakashi cringed when he saw Professor Orochimaru standing there glaring at him with that same unimpressed look he always had when he was speaking to Kakashi. “I think it would be best if you paid attention to the task at hand, rather than sneaking photographs of your classmates. Don’t you?”

Biting his tongue, Kakashi tucked the camera away in his bag and set it down beside his chair once more. It was best not to get into an argument that he was unlikely to win, even if returning his gaze to the poor frog laying on the table in front of him did drain all of the excitement he had been feeling just a second ago while holding his camera.

“Hey,” lifting his eyes, he watched as Anko leaned over the desk. That same joyful smile that she had been wearing while dissecting her frog was still plastered on her face. “You’ll show me the picture after class, right? I want to make sure I look perfectly terrifying in whatever picture you’re about to print off of me.”

Terrifying. That was certainly one way to describe her.

“I’ll show you after class,” he promised, giving her a playful wink. “Just try not to make a mess while you’re having fun.”

His comment was met with a laugh. “No promises.”

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

After a long day of classes, it was always nice to head out to his favorite café and get a nice cup of hot chocolate. An hour to relax before he started working on assignments, or headed to his part-time job at the university's campus bar.

Just some time to recharge after a long day of being bored out of his mind from monotone professors and lessons they always swore would require everyone's full attention to be understood, but never really did.

Today, he was not getting that time alone he usually needed so badly. Instead, he was sitting at a table with his three best friends, and the three loudest people in all of Konoha University.

Nohara Rin, beautiful and kind but with a voice that could not be missed by anyone. A trait she had picked up from spending so much time with Obito, no doubt.

Speaking of whom: Uchiha Obito. The second loudest student in all of Konoha University and possibly the world. Brash, knuckle-headed and dumber than a sack of rocks some days.

Ok, most days but Kakashi liked to give him the benefit of the doubt sometimes.

And then there was Maito Gai. Sweet, handsome, and always bursting with energy. The only person who was louder than Obito, and he made sure to leave no questions about that fact whenever he spoke.

How Kakashi had ended up with these three as friends he would never know, but he also wouldn't change it for the world. Even if his ears were ringing after five minutes with all three of them.

"How can you even say that?" Obito threw a hand over his heart in one of the most dramatic displays of horror Kakashi had ever seen. "Nutritional science? Better than theatre? Lies! Utter lies!"

"Maybe in your mind," Rin responded with a roll of her eyes. “Not everyone thinks Theater is the best thing ever invented since Dango.”

Gai wasn't so calm about Obito's response though. Not one to be outdone, he threw his hands down on the table and stood up in his spot so that he was staring Obito down. "At least Nutritional sciences can be used to help people," he defended his class with the same fiery passion that he showed with everything he did. “You're just learning to put on a show, which I'm convinced is a blood trait already for the Uchiha."

Kakashi couldn't find it in him to argue with that. Obito may be one of the most dramatic people he knew, but when it came to the Uchiha he was hardly the only one. Most days Shisui could give Obito a run for his money when it came to dramatic flare.

A fact Obito always got upset with him for pointing out.

"Kakashi, back me up here," Gai turned to look at him with soft black eyes that Kakashi would happily get lost in for the rest of the day. "His major is just...it doesn't serve a purpose."

"Someone has to be entertaining in this world, beast face," Obito protested. "And what's Kakashi going to say? His major is so boring he looks like he's going to fall asleep in class all the time."

"That's not wrong," glancing towards Rin, Kakashi jutted out his bottom lip to form the most pathetic pout that he could. "What? It's true! Today in biology you took a picture of Anko instead of doing the assignment."

Sometimes he forgot that he shared classes with Rin, but she always found a way to remind him, which wouldn't be nearly as bad if she didn't call him out on being a lazy shit like that in front of Gai.

"Kakashi, are you ignoring class again for photography?"

There was a disappointment in Gai's voice that he couldn’t stand hearing. As if he was about to be scolded for his life choices when he would much rather listen to Gai talk about how amazing he was.

But since he was now clearly upset with him thanks to Rin, there was only one option left to get him off of his back.

“I believe you were talking about how Obito's major isn't nearly as useful as yours," he offered, sticking his tongue out towards Obito when he immediately started to scold Kakashi for turning the conversation away from his own inability to focus in class.

"Well, yes-" watching as Gai turned his attention back to the conversation, immediately picking up where he had left off as if there had been no interruption, Kakashi couldn't help but reach into his backpack and pull out his camera.

Did he really need a picture of the moment that Obito stuck a finger out and poked Gai in the nose while desperately defending his major?

Yes. He did. Not only would it go well with the project, but the look of annoyance on Gai's face was priceless.

Definitely a picture worth putting in his personal photo album.

"I told you," turning his camera towards Rin, Kakashi snapped another picture just as she stuck her tongue out at him. "Tell me I look pretty in it."

Peering down at the image display, Kakashi smiled softly. "Absolutely stunning."

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

There was a process that Kakashi had when it came to choosing the perfect pictures for his project. First, he would go through his camera roll and make a mental note of all of the best pictures he could find. Next, he would transfer everything onto his laptop and then move the pictures he wanted into a folder for printing.

After getting the selected pictures printed, he would sit down at the small desk in his dorm room and organize them into the perfect design for his project. Whatever pictures ended up not fitting, would ultimately go into the small photo album that he kept under his desk. A book of personal favorites that he would look at on those really bad mental health days where he just needed something to make him smile. Even just for a moment.

It was a long process, but there was a reason he had never gotten anything less than a ninety on any of his photography projects.

Not that he really ever did poorly on any of his assignments. He actually did quite well on all of his lab assignments for biology and chemistry, even if he had a bad habit of not paying attention. It was probably the main reason his professors didn’t like him all that much.

“Still working on that, huh?” Glaring over at his roommate’s bed, he watched as the brunette stared back at him from over top his business textbook. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you put even half of this amount of effort into any of your other assignments, and I’m pretty sure those ones actually matter for your major.”

It was a true fact, just not one he wanted to hear.

He caught enough shit from Rin and Gai about his less than enthusiastic approach to his major.

“Don’t you have a small business to start up?” He huffed, turning his attention back down to the assignment in front of him. “Or did it go bankrupt already?”

“My business going bankrupt is as likely to happen as you actually telling Gai you have a crush on him,” Turning in his spot once again, Kakashi opened his mouth to argue against Genma’s frankly insulting assumption, only to find himself facing down a glare that could rival Rin’s angry look. “Don’t you dare try to lie to me, Hatake. Anyone can tell you have a crush on Gai.”

It wasn’t fair.

He wasn’t that obvious about it, was he?

“But that’s not what we’re talking about here, is it?” Genma continued. “We’re talking about your work ethic when it comes to assignments, and the fact that you’d rather put all of your efforts into the assignments for the one class that holds no value to your major.”

It was rather rude, Kakashi thought. First Genma called him out on his little crush, and then he turned around and scolded him for wanting to work on his photography assignment. Just because it didn’t hold any weight for his degree didn’t mean he shouldn’t put effort into it.

“Science is…” ‘Boring’ lingered on the tip of his tongue, but it wasn’t quite the word he was looking for. He actually loved Science, and had chosen the major hoping to explore a few different options after getting his degree. “Well, I love Science. Biology is interesting, Chemistry is a blast,” sometimes literally, if Anko was in the class with him. “And don’t get me started on Environmental sciences. I love it to bits. It’s just…the professors.”

There it was. The explanation he had been searching for.

The classes weren’t boring if they were being taught by the right people. Professor Uzumaki always made Astronomy interesting with her grand explanations and detailed outlines that drew his attention in. She never had any complaints about Kakashi not being focused in class. In fact, she had told him on multiple occasions that he was one of her most engaged students.

“Professor Orochimaru make’s biology seem like a chore, and the only thing interesting about Chemistry is watching Anko test the limits of just what can be mixed together without blowing the classroom up.” He was actually surprised she had managed to avoid doing that to date, given just how often she liked to experiment with chemicals. “But Photography is interesting. Professor Namekaze lets us explore things that we like, and the only restriction we have is the assignments due date and the basic premise of what the assignment is.”

This assignment for example.

His professor's words had been on repeat in his mind since monday when they received the assignment, and every picture he had taken since then had been carefully thought out to fit the assignment.

Though, now that he thought a bit more about it, he was missing one picture. Something that would tie the project together perfectly.

“Hey! Are you listening to me, Kakashi?” Picking his camera up off of the desk, he turned in his spot to face Gemma and brought the camera up so that he could peer through the viewfinder just as Genma tossed his book off to the side and started to crawl out of his bed. “Don’t you date-”

It was too late though. As soon as Genma started to reach out towards him in a poor attempt to snatch the camera away, he snapped the picture. The final piece to make the perfect assignment.

There was no way he would get anything less than a ninety-five on this one. The pictures were too perfect.

“Maybe I'll print you out a copy,” he teased, lowering his camera so that he could smile at Gemma. “You could use it for your tinder profile picture. Then at least all the people you bring over would know what they’re getting themselves into.”

The look on Genma’s face spelled trouble. As if Kakashi had just opened Pandora's box and released all of the worst plaques onto the world.

“You know, I have plans to hang out with Gai tomorrow,” Yep, that was definitely the worst punishment for his transgressions. There was no way this could possibly- “I think I’ll tell him about your little crush. How you can never shut up about him, and that dorky smile you get on your face whenever someone mentions him.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he recalled a lecture from his father when he was young. A long explanation for why murder was wrong, and not a solution to all of lifes worst problems.

Surely this was an exception.

No one could possibly prosecute him for Genma’s murder when they found out what a cruel, horrible man he was.

And even if they could, they’d have to find the body first.

#Hatake Kakashi #Maito Gai #anko mitarashi #genma shiranui #Nohara Rin #College Au #Collab #sorry XD

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seri-studies · 3 years

Text

Introduction:

Hey everyone! My name is Serebii/Serenity, you can call me Seri for short if you want to!

This is my studyblr that I decided to make one on the get-go because I’ve been in the Studyblr community for a long time before deciding to create my own for the sake of sharing study tips to help out others just like how several other blogs helped me!

Here’s just a few things you should know about me while I’m on this blog!

Personal Info:

I’m a Chinese-American upcoming junior!

I’m Oriented Aroace, and uses several microlabels (I’m planning on creating a carrd soon with all my personal info so stay tuned to my Personal Notes ;))

I use the pronouns Fae/Faem/Faer/Faers/Faeself and She/Her. Please respect that I use these pronouns. :)

I’m an INFJ, Slytherin Capricorn

English is my third language (even though Arabic is my second language, I legit barely know any of the basics, if at all, so take it as you will lol), so if I make any grammatical and/or spelling errors, please feel free to correct me!

Interests:

Reading - I particularly love reading essays (I know weird, but hey, I love analyzing stuff), historical fiction, fantasy, just anything in general to be honest. I grab my hands at anything lol.

Analyzing - For me, I love analyzing story lores, characters and their flaws and traits, scientific papers, I just love researching and analyzing!

Writing - Actually I’ve been meaning to create a Writeblr for a while since I love to write mainly about my fictional and nonfictional works, but I think I’ll stick to this instead first lol.

Dancing - I especially love contemporary dance, can’t get enough of the movement and rush of it all.

Sing/songwriting - I love music, a lot more than I should, but hey, I sing and make songs whenever and wherever I can!

Goals:

I want to be able to improve my concentration in my school work with the several helpful tips from other studyblrs!

I want to share out any and all study tips that worked for me that may not be as common to others, or are in other places (ahem, maybe Pinterest) that aren’t as accessible to people.

And I want to manage both my school work and bullet journals!

Masterlist:

This is my list of content that I’ll compiled into here for the sake of time in case you wanna look over my stuff!

Not to mention, my Tags List that will show what tags I’ll be using for my purposes here!

Masterlist

Tags List

Special Mentions:

With everything said and done, I just wanna give a couple of shout outs to a few individuals who really inspired me to create a studyblr and say that they’re amazingly good at what they do in their blogs!

@studyquill

@myhoneststudyblr

@lara-studies

@studyblrmasterposts

@studydiaryofamedstudent

@obliviatestudies

@emmastudies

Personal Notes:

This area is mainly for announcements regarding my personal life, just in case something happens and I’m not here for several days ya know?

Either ways, I love this community! I cannot wait to be further involved!

(Edit: 8-11-21)

Hey everyone! So now that I’m starting school, imma get straight to work!

Which also means that I’ll also be doing an overhaul over the next few weeks or months cleaning up on this blog for both my organization style and for you guys to just navigate my blog easier. Meaning I’ll probably be adding onto the Tags List and creating the Masterlist for you all!

For now, that’s about it, I hope this school year goes well for everyone who may have had struggled last year (I know I did sadly)!

#new studyblr #i finally did the thing #Seri’s-Post #Personal Notes Updates

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seokiloquy · 3 years

Text

Coffee Diet - Kozume Kenma

AU: Tokyo Ghoul

Requested

Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, Gore, some angst (Though both aren’t too heavy or graphic I think), probably a poor representation of the manga/anime cause I haven’t actually read/watched it all the way through despite wanting to

Word Count: 3.3k+

Kozume grunted. His kagune, the source of his inhuman power, made strikes at his cannibal attacker, forming a bone-like needle that stabbed down at the unknown ghoul. The concrete shattered like thick glass upon impact as the ghoul continued to dodge.

Tokyo (especially its many outskirt neighbourhoods) had a ghoul problem.

“You’re in the wrong territory if you think you can get away with that.”

The other ghoul only laughed, continuing his fast steps. The laugh itself was painful, scratchy and high pitched. It made Kozume wince.

The people of Kozume’s neighbourhood knew of the danger that lay waiting outside their doors, and thus an unspoken rule had been made among them. Don’t be outside past sunset. Those that did take a nightly venture typically were found mangled and half-eaten by morning. Broken bones peaking through bloodstained flesh, large bites taken out of their thighs, and torsos ripped open; delectable looking meal for a ghoul gone rouge. Kenma wouldn’t agree.

The dark alley that the ghoul had run into was walled off.

His opponent's black greasy hair hung over most of his face like a curtain, only letting a single black and red eye, and a sharp-toothed smirk poke through the strands. His hair swayed as he spun around.

“What does territory matter if there’s food to be had?” The ghoul screeched before his powered ghoul organ seeped out of his body and shot toward Kozume. It scratched his cheekbone, barely missing his eye, thankfully, but would take time to heal unlike any normal would.

Kozume hissed at the cut, willing his own kagune to slash at the ghoul who began climbing up the sides of the brick walls. The sharpened bone just missed the man’s food as he scurried over the ledge.

“See you later!”

The false blond stood there, yawning and rubbing his black and red eyes that were pinned to the building’s top. Heat from the rising sun began to warm his back. With the new light and extra heat, the tired ghoul raised his arms, stretching, as he took in his familiar surroundings. The port, or at least near it. Kozume stepped out of the alley to see the broken concrete that was left in his chase.

Another yawn escaped him before he tucked his hand in his red sweater’s pockets and walked the other way. He needed coffee.

Kuroo’s shop, as lovely of an atmosphere as it created, was in the middle of a garbage dump. It didn’t help that some of that outside aesthetic carried into the cafe itself. The bell pierced into Kozume’s ear canal as he opened the front door to the dingy sight. Stained counters, chipped porcelain, yellow lights that were so off-putting that they stayed off all the time. It’s always been dark and gloomy, until today.

“Welcome! Take a seat, I’ll be right with you.”

That’s new.

Kozume stood in the doorway, watching your form dance and sway behind the bar. He noticed the music playing, soft and completely unnatural for the cafe. Your uniform, definitely not assigned by Kuroo, was crisp and clean, black shirt sitting on your form nicely. It was modest and professional. Maybe not assigned, but definitely Kuroo’s style.

He watched as you placed a small cake at another regular’s table, patting the old man’s signature plaid jacket on the shoulder. Whatever you said made the man laugh and twirl his fork happily.

His golden eyes, now settled after his too-early walk from the destroyed park, were trained on you as he sidestepped over to his usual seat in the corner next to the window. He sat, and took his eyes off your bobbing head as you turned around. His brow furrowed. The table was clean. Kozume looked around the cafe, noticing the lack of dust and stains.

He didn’t see you drop off a cup of coffee at a table, or walk his way until you were right in front of him.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

He jumped in his seat, causing his bobbed hair to billow out for a moment. Oh no, the look in your eyes immediately told him that you could see his rosy cheeks. He coughed. “Black coffee, please.”

Your smile was perfect.

“Hey, Kenma!” An unlikely saviour with black spikey hair appeared from the doorway. Kuroo strode over and waved you down as he slid into the seat across from Kozume. “Ah you got a scratch,” he hissed, immediately putting pieces together in his head. His head turned your way. “Do you mind getting me a coffee too, (L/N)?”

Kozume’s eyes followed you as you placed your pen and notepad back into your pocket and walked toward the counter.

“(L/N)’s new, just started yesterday and all the regulars love the new energy already. So tell me, what happened?”

Kozume sighed, looking down at his hands. “More keep coming. One disappears and another shows up. I’m too tired for this.”

Despite his vague tone, Kuroo knew what Kozume was talking about and sighed immediately. He leaned back in his chair. “I’ll be able to help you out soon enough, (L/N) has gotten a good hand on things, but I don’t want to leave them alone in the shop too suddenly. You understand.”

Kozume did understand. You, the human behind the counter, were a breath of fresh air in the musty town. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have. The demeanour of someone in the know in this neighbourhood wasn’t that positive. He knew that he wouldn’t get any help until you knew of the cafe’s main purpose.

“Take your time, I can handle it for how.” Kozume yawned and gestured to his marred cheek. “This guy might be a pain to deal with though.”

Just as he finished speaking the TV that hung above his head began to rattle on about destruction occurring at their neighbourhood’s port.

Kuroo winced. “That’s a pain, all right.”

Two white cups of black coffee hit the table's surface. Kuroo thanked you as you stood straight and reached into your apron’s pocket. Next to Kozume’s mug, you placed a large band-aid as you ripped open a disinfectant wipe. “May I?”

He nodded and let your fingers gently turn his chin in your direction. The wipe glided smoothly over his cheek but stung. He hissed and pulled his head back.

“Sorry, it’ll be over in a second, I’ll be quick. Can I finish?”

Kuroo stayed silent as he watched Kozume get cared for by his employee, only speaking when the barista left the younger ghoul’s side with a kind smile. “You’re blushing.”

“I will kick your ass,” Kozume sneered before lifting his mug up to his lips for a quick sip. “Why’d you hire a human anyway?”

Kuroo mirrored his friend’s actions and drank some of his well-brewed coffee. “They don’t hold any ill will toward Ghouls if that’s what you’re wondering, maybe a bit scared. But (L/N) is very kind.”

Kosume continued to yawn through their conversation, occasionally looking your way, only to immediately turn his head as soon as there was a chance of you catching his stare. He didn’t realize how long it went on until he heard your footsteps heading for the exit.

Kuroo twisted, resting his arm over the back of the chair to face you putting on your coat. “Walk home safe!”

“Will do!” Your smile glittered before you pushed the door open and walked through.

Kozume’s eyes continued to follow you through the glass until you turned out of sight.

“Do they live far from here?” he asked Kuroo, questioning his warning.

Kuroo slapped his hand on the table twice, gathering the energy to rise to his feet. He grabbed the long since empty mugs, whose stray coffee had begun to dry on the sides. “Only a 5-minute walk. But (L/N) has to walk through alleyways to save time, and well, even during the day, you can’t be too concerned for one’s safety.”

“Ah, Kozume! Black coffee again? Would you like some food with that?”

Kozume’s stomach churned at the thought of putting something other than coffee into his system. “I’m alright, just the coffee is fine. Thanks.” Hands stuffed in his pockets, he walked to his corner. “And Kenma is fine.”

“Then, please, call me (Y/N).”

The cafe smelled cleaner than the weeks prior. Cleaning solution seems to sit right under Kozume’s nose and punch him every time he breathed. Taking his seat, he immediately noticed the lack of smudges on the window.

Kozume tried to give you a kind smile as you set his cup of coffee on the freshly cleaned table. He could feel heat crawl up his neck and settle underneath the skin of his cheeks. He gulped, readying himself to separate his lips and speak.

“You seem drained, has work been alright?” You beat him to the punch.

“Ah ya, work.” He didn’t have a job. “It’s been alright, just a bit draining because of the night shift. How has school been?”

Kuroo was quick to get you both well acquainted after your first meeting. He carried conversations until Kozume was willing enough to speak for himself. The blond was thankful for that, knowing that if he had been left alone by your side no familiarity would have been built.

“Oh, the usual. I have a few assignments to finish but nothing too overbearing. I did read an interesting article about social relations and hierarchy of ghouls in society. It was a bit depressing but educational.”

Kozume choked on his coffee, hunching over the table as he lifted a fist to his mouth. Just as the ragged coughs began to subside he felt your hand gently rub his back, sending him into another fit of coughs.

“What’s the assignment about?” he asked, settling down.

He noticed the concerned look on your face as you pulled napkins out of your pocket and set them on the table. “Ah well, I’m studying public health and humanities, and my prof told us to choose a disadvantaged group to write about. Yada yada, so on so forth. I chose ghouls.”

He gestured for you to sit with one hand, waving at Kuroo with the other as he wiped down the main counter. You smiled and took the seat across from him.

“You believe ghouls are disadvantaged?”

Your brow furrowed, pondering. “Well ya, in some ways. Maybe not in strength and power, but ghouls are rather hated in society don’t you think?”

Once again, while preparing to speak, he was cut off by the overhead TV switching audio. Listening to the graphic words coming out of the reporter's mouth, Kozume sighed and raised a hand to push against his temple.

The distressed look on your face made him pause. A pit grew in his stomach as your concerned face turned to Kuroo, who was calling you back to your station. You were quick to bring back your smile. “Enjoy the coffee, and rest when you can.”

Kozume returned your smile meekly but was focused on the grotesque details the reporter listed, unable to stop himself from imagining you, defenceless, in that sort of danger. He couldn’t stomach the coffee.

“(Y/N), I really don’t think I should leave you here alone after dark.”

You sighed, looking to your boss with an unimpressed smirk. Kuroo squinted, lips pursing as he watched your knowing smirk turn humorous.

“Testu, don’t you have work to do at night? My walk home may be a lot safer, if you get to that, no?”

Kuroo cursed, punching the wooden counter with a dull bumping sound. He groaned. “How did you know?”

You laughed, shifting the position of your hands on the wooden poll and continuing to sweep the floor of the empty cafe. “I study! It may not be so obvious but don’t you think I’d pick up on you being a ghoul after a few weeks?”

“I mean maybe, but I was hoping you didn’t know!”

A light scoff shot off your tongue and through your teeth. “I would think you’d be relieved, now you don’t have to be so cautious around me.”

Kuroo picked up the washcloth he had been holding earlier off the counter and began to wipe the wooden surface down again. “No harm in caution. Even if you do know.”

“Ya, ya, just don’t show me a severed limb. I can’t do gore.”

Kuroo laughed and tossed the damp towel onto the edge of the metal sink. His arms shifted to his back to aunty the black apron around his waist. “Are you sure you’re okay here alone?”

The TV’s sound changed to the news’ intro tune as you grabbed the remote and turned it off. You gave the ghoul a warm smile. “I can handle it. Go go.”

The sun was already over the horizon by the time you were ready to leave. You stood on the inside of the door, punching in the pin code to the security lock. It beeped, giving you the warning to leave and lock the door. Once done, you pulled your sweater a little tighter on your shoulders and shoved your hands in the pockets.

You focused on the sound of your rubber souls stepping on the concrete and the occasional tick of a pebble getting kicked. Street lights flickered, or at least the ones that were working did. Walking upon a burnt out light, you took the marker to turn down the neighbouring alleyway.

Two steps in was all it took before you lifted the collar of your weather over your nose. The putrid smell wafted your way from the dumpster. “Ugh, it’s not garbage day tomorrow is it?” Setting closer towards the opposite wall, you help your breath and face forward. Until the burnt-out light flickered on.

You halted, head frozen forward as you looked out of the corner of your eye. Immediately your stomach churned and your throat began to pulse uncomfortably.

First, you noticed the pool of dark red blood that was slowly growing, nearing your shoes. Then it was pieces of loose skin and grey hair, stained as they floated in their puddle. Your heart seized at the sight of a ragged plaid jacket that was recklessly torn. You searched higher.

A single red iris surrounded by a black gloss stared at your profile. The rest was obscured by pin-straight greasy hair except for a large, inhuman smirk that showed off shark-like teeth covered in blood.

You cautiously removed your hands from your pockets, watching the poorly dressed skeletal like figure’s hunch move up and down as he breathed.

One beat.

You saw his claw-like fingers hold the wrinkly hand of the severed arm like a possessed lover. Your foot shifted.

Two beats.

The ghoul’s head tilted, revealing a tube-like pound of pink flesh hanging from his fangs. You gulped.

Three beats.

You ran.

Pulse already off the hertz, you sprinted with all your might to the flickering light at the other end of the alley. A stupid move, but taking the time to turn around wasn’t an option. Each step sent a jolt into your stomach. Your footsteps were much louder than before, but your blood was drowning it out. The lamp was so much slower now.

You froze suddenly. Stopped by a tug on your arm. Vertigo suddenly hit and the lamp was pulled further away. Then you recalled the tug, and noticed the increased pulsing in your arm, then felt your sweater become sticky and heavy. You looked to the side and down.

Were bones supposed to stick out like that?

You hardly registered it’s presence before the spike-like bone was torn from your limb, sending you into another fit of screams.

The light at the end of the alley flickered again, before going completely dark.

His heart raced, blood pumping through his ears like crazy.

“Calm down Kenma! You can’t go crazy like this!”

“I have every right! You heard that scream, didn’t you? It was (Y/N)!”

The blonde’s kagune went wild, thrashing about and nearly knocking Kuroo over in the process. Said ghoul didn’t flinch, only brushing away the agitated organ with a push of his own.

“I know, but you have to—”

He was off, launching into the air and onto the rooftops, following the smell of your spilt blood before Kuroo could finish his sentence. The black-haired man swore, quickly following suit.

The sight was expected, horrifying, but not surprising.

Whoever’s intestines were falling out of the ghoul’s mouth, Kozume couldn’t tell, but he wasn’t gonna let the ghoul he had been hunting get another chance to make a meal out of your body if he could help it.

“GET OFF!”

Something cracked as the long-haired ghoul’s body flew off yours, smashing against the brick wall of the alley. Kozumes sharp-pointed kagune pinned him through the stomach to the cracking brick.

He only gave you a glance. The sight made his stomach churn as if he were trying to eat a regular meal. Torn skin, visible bone, and blood everywhere. He wanted to vomit.

Behind him he could hear Kuroo’s feet land in the massive pool of blood, making it splash slightly. Their clothes would have to be trashed later.

Kozume gritted his teeth. Despite his boiling rage at you being injured, he managed to hold off his brutal assault against the bloodied ghoul until he heard Kuroo zip away with you in his arms.

Even in your current state, you’d be safer away from the scene.

“I don’t think (Y/N) is going to be able to work for a while.”

“Some of the regulars are spooked, but relieved.”

Whatever was holding your arm like a boa constrictor was making sleep really hard. You groaned. Why did your stomach hurt?

“Ah, look who’s up.” Kuroo’s voice was as teasing as always.

Your sight was blurry when you finally came to. The first thing you noticed was the aggressive pulsing in your arm and stomach followed by a warm hand on your shoulder. You tried to shift.

“Ah stupid, don’t do that.” Kozume’s voice, despite a slight rasp, was as gentle as ever.

You sighed and squinted towards Kuroo who stood at the end of — what you were quick to realize— was your hospital bed. His arms were crossed and the smirk he wore was humorous. “Kuroo, if you say a single word, I will gladly risk further injury to fight you.”

Kenma shut his eyes and rubbed your shoulder before reaching for a hot mug from your bedside table. Kuroo walked around to the opposite side to help you sit up. You watch a thick red sweater fall off your shoulders and onto your lap, in front of your bandaged stomach.

Kenma spoke quietly, “Your sweater was torn to pieces.”

“Like my body?” you joked, only to get a sour look from the man in return. “Sorry.”

He sighed again and handed you the steaming mug. “Here, drink this. You need food.”

Kuroo walked back to the end of the bed, letting Kozume take care of you from then on.

“Coffee is considered a food now?”

Kuroo let out a short chuckle, making you tilt your brow in his direction. Kozume coughed, placing the mug down quickly to lift his red sweater off of your lap. He draped it back onto your chest, tucking it between your shoulders and pillow, then slowly guiding your arms through the sleeves.

You rubbed your hands together for warmth as Kozume offered you the hot mug again. You took it, thanking him with a shining smile. You once again failed to notice the rosiness of his cheeks, even if Kuroo didn’t.

“You won’t be able to stomach anything else, sorry.”

Why did this take me so long to write…. Oh well. -Bacon

Posted: 14/02/2021

#kenma x reader #Kenma Kozume #Kozume Kenma #kenma kozume x reader #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #haikyu x reader #anime x reader #anime

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thepettymachine · 4 years

Photo

Zodiac Legacy Challenge for the Sims 3

If you’re like me, I like a good legacy challenge with nice themes/aesthetics to place/plan out with each heir with enough wiggle room for creative interpretations. No. Well I’ve always wanted to do a zodiac legacy challenge but could never find the rules for TS3 or most of them were made for TS4. So I guess I thought I would just make one then.

This was all made on a whim but it’s a strong whim. So enjoy the whim. “@” me if you use the rules since I didn’t come up with a tag for this.

Credit:

I like to credit @tainoodles‘s TS4 Astrology Legacy as an inspiration/base for this, as well as many others I’ve found online.

A buttload of astrology sites

@starplumbob and @bravetrait for feedback. Thank you alot!

Without further ado

General Rules:

Finish the goals provided for each sign

You can move onto the next generation when all goals are met or you maintain them until the heir has aged up or both. Up to you.

You can start on any sign but you must go in order afterwards.

If I were to start on Leo, I would have to do Virgo next.

You can select any of the careers provided for the generation.

You don’t have to use all the traits assigned to a sign, but 1-2 are required.

You can use colors for aesthetic purposes/berry purposes, but they are not required.

Generation Aries: The Ram

♈︎ - Is everything a game to you? Well of course it is, you’re an Aries. First sign in the zodiac that also might be banned from playing simopoly. We admire a courageous spirit that knows what it wants, is driven, and is bluntly honest with us but can you let some of us, you know….win?! Not everything has to be a competition. Geez

Aesthetic Color(s): Red Traits: Workaholic, Ambitious, Brave, Hot-Headed Careers: Firefighter, Athlete, Military, Sports Agent

Goals:

Excel and reach the top of their career.

Fall In love and marry their first love fast

Has to do something athletic once a week

Master the athletic and handiness traits

Have them battle someone once a week

Generation Taurus: The Bull

♉︎ - What’s wrong with a little luxury in life. Food, art, sex, and your favorite snuggle blanket made of some high cotton that was not cheap is the lap of luxury for you. You can be really stubborn sometimes but once you set your mind on something, you aren’t changing it. It’s all because you know what’s best for you and nothing else matters. Aesthetic is key but you can also be a little bit greedy with your stuff. Sharing is caring Taurus

Aesthetic Color(s): Earth Tones, Pink Traits: Natural Cook, Loves the Outdoors, Frugal, Hopeless Romantic Careers: Gardner, Cook, Nectar Owner

Goals:

Master the cooking and gardening skills

Be best friends with their future spouse before dating

Learn at least 20 new recipes

Must have twins (can have more children than that)

Have very expensive/luxury items worth more than $500 in your home (it’s all about that aesthetic)

Woohoo with your spouse once a day

Generation Gemini: The Twins

♊︎ - Wow, how does it feel to be a twin. You look every bit like each other except for your dual personalities. Charming and youthful, you both are ahead of the curve as your quick wit and curiosity keeps you moving forward in life. You have alot of skills and talents and love communicating your ideas with others. Just remember where the brakes are at , as some of us can’t keep up. Tough luck you say.

Aesthetic Color(s): Yellow, mint green, Orange, neons Traits: Charismatic, Childish, Genius, Schmoozer Careers: Teacher, Writer, Private Investigator, Magician

Goals:

Both twins have to be heir

Have a very close relationship with your twin

Master 5 skills, including charisma

Spend most of their YA dabbling in different careers before deciding on one in their adult years.

Have multiple lovers before choosing/finding the one

Have to teach their children all of their skills and help them with their homework

Generation Cancer: The Crab

♋︎ - Why so crabby? I’m sorry had to throw that one in there. You tend to be a loyal compassionate creative person who wears their heart on their sleeve. Sometimes that sleeve might be drenched in your tears as you can be considered a little bit moody but we love you Cancer. You sense what a person is feeling and you help them through it. What a great lover and friend you are!

Aesthetic Color(s): Light Blue, Gray, Orange Traits: Nurturing, Family-Oriented, Over-Emotional, Brooding Careers: Sculptor, Daycare Profession, Resort Owner/Bed&Breakfast

Goals:

Sim must have a full relationship bar with their significant other before proposing

Have a lot of handmade items in your home

Have 5 children

Master the sculpting skill

Be best friends with all their children.

Get out of the house once a week

Generation Leo: The Lion

♌︎ - Royalty must be in your blood cause obviously you are the Queen/King and we are all just your royal subjects. With a mighty roar, you demand your spotlight and capture our attention with your spontaneous passionate heart. We follow your lead, my liege. For you will not make us forget it!

Aesthetic Color(s): Gold, Purple Traits: Snob, Brave, Dramatic, Star Quality Careers: CEO, Actor, Singer

Goals:

Live in a mansion/large house with more than 4 bedrooms

Become a five star celebrity

Marry a big time celebrity

Go on a big dates with your lover/spouse at least once a week

New Me each week - go to the spa and change your boring outfit at least once a week

Master the social networking skill

Generation Virgo: The Virgin

♍︎ - The modest stylish Virgo is always the hardest worker that delivers the best because they expect the best. You love to serve others and always pay attention to details with such an organized perfection towards the things you do. But sometimes that perfection creates high expectations of yourself and let’s just say judgement and criticism is not your color.

Aesthetic Color(s): Green, Brown, White Traits: Perfectionist, Perceptive, Neurotic, Neat Careers: Doctor, Journalist, Bookstore clerk

Goals:

Have a part-time job, make straight A’s, and join a club as a teenager

Have a college degree

Spouse must be compatible and must share at least 2-3 traits with them.

Can only have woohoo after marriage

House must be clean all the times (no outside help is allowed)

Must learn something new every week

New Recipe, read a new book, learn a new skill, take a class

Generation Libra: The Scales

♎︎ - You’re a giant balancing act, trying to keep everything fair and just. You love being around all kinds of people and also trying to make the world a better place. As much as you are a great mediator and friend, you’re also a great people pleaser. Please take time out of your day not to be around people and just focus on you.

Aesthetic Color: Green, White Traits: Friendly, Good, Social Butterfly, Party Animal Careers: Architect, Stylist, Musician

Goals:

Get Married to a sim that is complete opposite of you, then divorce them

Remarry a more compatible sim

Have 10 best friends

Host a party once a week

Complete 3 social opportunities each week

Master the guitar, bass, drums, and piano skills

Generation Scorpio: The Scorpion

♏︎ - Ah the mystery of the Scorpio. You have an intimidating front but behind that is an emotional side only certain people are allowed to see. You’re kinda into some dark occultist stuff and you’re also secretive about things. But you’re a passionate lover that can see love as a game of trials. Just a couple of tests to make sure that this is the right person for who you can finally put your guard down around.

Aesthetic Color: Black, Gray, Red Traits: Loner, Daredevil, Irresistible, Inappropriate Careers: Ghost Hunter, Law Enforcement (Forensics/Super Spy), Cemetery,

Goals:

You have a 3 dates policy before asking a sim to be in a relationship with you

Has at least 3 enemies (stop holding grudges)

Become an supernatural/occult sim

Master the martial arts and alchemy skills

Woohoo in 5 different places with your spouse

Do something inappropriate once a week

Generation Sagittarius: The Archer

♐︎ - Sagittarius you love your freedom and the adventures that come with it. You keep choosing the nontraditional path of life because you love to move past your horizons and set your own tradition. You’re brutally honest with everything and can tend to put your own desires above your own needs. As you constantly strive to be independent, you may grow distant from those who care about you the most.

Aesthetic Color: Red, Purple, Blue Traits: Adventurous, Easily-Impressed, Flirty, Animal Lover Careers: Adventurer, Equestrian, Photographer,

Goals:

Max out a visa in one country (if WA is applicable)

Have 20 friends

Have multiple partners throughout their life but only commit once as an adult

Have multiple kids from different partners (one has to be from another country if WA is applicable)

Have a horse, dog, cat, and/or other small animals in the house.

Be apart of all 3 social groups (nerd, jock, rebel)

Generation Capricorn: The Goat

♑︎ - Baaahh, you’re a goat. Smart and hardworking, Capricorn, you have a “get stuff done at the expense of your health and other things for the sake of achievement and financial gain” -breathes in- kind of motto. You’re so focused on reaching the top, you forget about the other things in life. But your disciplined perseverance and patience will reward you later in life.

Aesthetic Color: Black, Gray, White Traits: Workaholic, Unflirty, Computer Whiz, Bot Fan Careers: Inventor, Bot Arena/Bot Builder, Politician

Goals:

You don’t date until you’re an adult

You don’t get married until you reached the highest point in your career

Master the logic skill and a tech skill (inventing, bot building, or advanced technology)

Have more than 25,000 in savings (without cheating)

Have your children be straight A students throughout the childhood/teen years

Generation Aquarius: The Water Bearer

♒︎ - Individualistic Aquarius runs on it’s own beat. You have a strong desire for change and evolution to come to the world which is why you have a strong sense for social justice in order to make the world a better place. You care for others and that care might cause you to create a system of prioritizing them above all other things. While love is always a nice thing, you just don’t like the idea of being dependent on each other, so it would be nice if you don’t have to commit.

Aesthetic Color: Electric/Light Blue, White, Violet, Traits: Rebellious, Eco-Friendly, Avante garde, Commitment Issues Careers: Astronomer, Game Designer, Scientist

Goals:

Master the Street Art skill

Create a Utopia for the future and get a statue in Legacy park.

Have a friends with benefits relationship with your closest friend that results with a child

You never marry

Must live an eco-friendly lifestyle. (no dryer, bikes > cars, salvage everything, grow everything)

Generation Pisces: The Fish

♓︎ - You’re a fish out of water and the last constellation of the zodiac. You’re a dreamer, creative and very intuitive which makes you empathetic and open to other’s feelings. Your symbol is two fish because you tend to constantly swim back and forth between conflicting desires and have a bit of escapism problem . You can’t help it sometimes, it just how it makes you feel.

Aesthetic Color(s): Aquamarine, Sea Green, Lavender Traits: Artistic, Sailor, Supernatural Fan, Loves to Swim Careers: Fortune Teller, Lifeguard, Scuba Diver

Goals:

Become a mermaid/master the scuba diving skill

Marry a supernatural sim

Master the painting and writing skills

Have 2 childhood friends and keep in touch with them throughout your lives

Thank you for trying out this challenge. Feedback is always welcomed thing on this challenge.

#this took me 2 days to do #im tired now #will try it out later #sims #sims 3 #ts3 #ts3 challenge #ts3 legacy #ts3 legacy challenge #zodiac legacy challenge #anime scenery background for the win

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Note

That post about "I'll keep reading a fic that mischaracterizes Dick even if it angers me because the plot is interesting" but with Scott McCall. I'll come across genuinely interesting concepts and plots and power through for that even when Scott is portrayed negatively in the story, he's there at least and it's either that or wading through 99% of fic which centers Stiles/Sterek and the most common Scott tag being "Scott's a bad friend" ya know?

Honestly, what is it about Scott McCall and Dick Grayson that gets them (mis)treated so similarly by their respective fandoms?

Oh yeah, definitely. Tbh, part of why I’m so loud and obnoxious in Batfandom is because in TW fandom it eventually got to the point where I just had to stop reading fic completely, because I wasn’t finding anything that was Scott-friendly outside of the handful of writers I was already friends with and I just got fed up. And I’m too stubborn to do the same thing twice in two separate fandoms so I just....refuse to give up on DG fic by way of a rousing morning “Not today Satan” pep talk. fhslakhfkal

But honestly, the parallels, there are more than a few:

1) Obviously I do think the racism element has plenty to do with it. Especially in the way “is Scott really even Latino on the show though, I mean did they ever actually SAY it” arguments could be swapped out almost word for word with the “is Dick really even Romani in the comics though, I mean it was just a retcon” arguments. With the primary aim of arguments against this being a factor focusing on just invalidating the idea that either are characters of color in the first place, rather than examining the way people engage with these characters for signs of racism. Instead of trying to refute that there’s anything wrong with certain ways people interact with these characters, people jump right into “well there can’t be racism if the character in question isn’t even REALLY a character of color, y’know not like, a board-certified one with proper accreditation and everything.”

But its definitely interesting when you look at how Dick Grayson’s been perceived by fandom overall, like, in terms of looking back over the years. As someone who’s been in and out of DC fandoms to various degrees since the late 90s, as in before Dick was retconned as being Romani in the first place, and as I’ve said before, he used to be a LOT more popular and forgiven for stuff in the past in fandom.....like, I maintain that if you look back at the early 2000s-2010, aka when that retcon was not just written, but gradually and more fully spread into the fandom’s overall awareness and perception of the character....you can almost like, SEE the empathy gap suddenly click into place once he was more fully solidified as a character of color in a lot of fans’ minds. Even if they won’t admit it because that would require admitting to the racism that then began to seep into how they interacted with this character now, compared to how they’d interacted with this character in the past.

And I think the empathy gap - and the complete refusal to admit that’s even a thing, because its not like these are REALLY characters of color so why would it even apply - like, I think that goes a long way to explaining the way both Scott and Dick consistently have their traumas invalidated and ignored by large parts of their fandoms, with the focus always being shifted to how bad things that happen to them are really MORE bad for how they affect the people around them, etc.

2) It also I think has a lot to do with their personalities and the archetypes they both embody as empathetic caregiver types. I think I described it pretty well here in my BUABS fic:

“What do you know about Impostor Syndrome?"

"It's a term sometimes used to describe over-achievers who have trouble internalizing their accomplishments. Perfectionists who think they're frauds because they don't know how to take credit for their own achievements and say its because of luck or timing or something other people did," Dick frowned, puzzling through both the question and the aim of it. He raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't sound like something that applies to someone as arrogant as me."

"Don't be a little shit, Dick," Dinah said with small smirk. "And you're right, I don't think any of that applies to you. However, it's also used in another capacity, to describe trauma survivors who are unable to internalize their own trauma. Who deflect from it, or mitigate it, treat it as less than it is on the basis that it wasn't as bad as what's happened to someone else. It's especially common in trauma survivors who are noted for being especially empathetic or who have caregiver personality types. People who are so used to self-identifying as someone whose role or purpose is in helping others, that they find themselves unable to identify as traumatized because it might shift the focus to themselves instead of people they feel need it more. Does that behavior sound a little more familiar?"

(For the record, that fic is set in the YJ universe, not the comics, and I go with the approach that Dick and Bruce have a much better relationship there than they do in the comics, and thus overall Dick’s mental health and self-esteem are better than in the comics, generally speaking. I only mention this as a tangent, but like....I think Impostor Syndrome as an issue for perfectionists and over-achievers with low self-esteem DOES pertain to comic book Dick Grayson as well as its trauma interpretation. But anyway).

But point is, I think that describes both Dick and Scott, and their respective approaches to dealing (or not dealing) with their personal traumas. This isn’t a problem in and of itself, as its a valid survivor reaction and issue plenty of people deal with....the problem lies in the willingness of fans to capitalize on the OPPORTUNITIES this presents, as fans of other characters, to keep the focus trained on the characters around these two, and THEIR issues, even at the expense of these two.

Basically, its not in either of their natures to ASK for help and forcefully DRAG focus and awareness to themselves and their issues, for a number of reasons including the fact that I don’t think either character feels they ‘deserve’ that focus or need that help more than other people need theirs.

And because these characters are the empathetic caregiver archetypes in their respective ensembles, ie the ones who usually take the lead in reaching out to even characters who don’t normally ask for help themselves....there’s often no one else immediately popping up in reader awareness as like, a likely candidate to extend that same awareness and offer of aid to Dick and Scott even without them actually asking for it.

(Which, is a large part of my commitment to the theme “Stop assembling your ensembles with just ONE of each archetype, mix and match more, or like....use more hybrid archetypes so you don’t HAVE this problem, and also, stop limiting characters to JUST their archetypes, three-dimensional people aren’t confined to only acting upon a limited menu of actions and impulses, and neither should three-dimensional characters be.”)

And then of course there’s the additional component, linked to point #1, that a lot of people refuse to write other characters seeing their need for help or support or offering it even when they do see it, simply because like....they don’t WANT these characters to HAVE help or support.

3) The Intelligence Factor - as in, do they really have it? Both Scott McCall and Dick Grayson are repeatedly and consistently established in their respective canons as being extremely intelligent, and no, not JUST in emotional intelligence. I don’t like sounding like I’m undervaluing that particular form of intelligence, I’m just really irritated by the way people go about saying “oh I do admit they have very high emotional intelligence” like they’re throwing them some kind of a bone. LMAO. No. They both have high emotional intelligence, true, but they’re also extremely intelligent across the board in all other ways. Both are excellent strategists, quick-thinking and repeatedly out-maneuvering even other noted strategists, both display a quick grasp of new information and an ability to see how and where and when to PUT that information to use in practical applications, etc. These are not dumb characters, at ALL.

But fandoms have this weird committment to the idea that only the Smartest Person In The Room REALLY matters, and like, there can only be one of those per room, or like, at most two, so that they can be a matched pair and make kissing noises and then very smart babies, or like, they can be the doting (smart) father and his adored (smartest) son, all others can go home now.

Like, no, that’s not how that works. A room full of geniuses does not suddenly become a room full of ONE genius and a bunch of random and irrelevant cuz they’re dumb non-geniuses the second someone deemed King of the Smarties enters the room. That’s not a thing. Stop acting like that’s a thing, fandoms. Nobody’s intelligence is actually threatened by the presence of more than one character with notable intelligence. Also fuck off with the adoration of notable intelligence like people have more value the more decimal points of pi they can recite off the top of their head. That’s not a more evolved human being, that’s just a nerd. Nerds have value but no more than people who like, chose other life pursuits aside from nerddom.

(Not actually intended as a slight against nerds, just for the record. I say that as both a self-described nerd and also a self-loathing nerd and also lol I’m not a nerd. Look, I’m a very nuanced person okay. I put the complex in complex organism).

But the point here is not just that people are weird about there only being one true genius allowed per ensemble, its that people are WEIRD about how in order to ACTUALLY be smart, you need to like.....accurately match the factory specs for “this is how a smart person looks and behaves.”

And Scott and Dick do not look and behave that way. The sheer number of times - and similar ways - people try to completely discredit the idea they have more than one brain cell by pointing to times they’re being INTENTIONALLY goofy and being like “oh yeah, would a smart person do THAT, hmmmm”.....

Its like...yes? LOL. There is no law that says that a smart person can not be a goofball, or that they are no longer smart if they fulfill a certain quota of actions deemed ‘dopey’ by the official arbiters of smartness.

Similarly the way people like to point at stuff like “my mom buys the groceries” when the writers BEHIND the characters were intentionally trying to play up a comedic moment rather than make a sealed declaration of IQ, and be like, “see, would a smart person be THAT dumb, hmmm?”

First of all, yes, even going off the same canon people try and cite as proof Scott and Dick are too dumb to actually be smart.....you can literally find similarly ‘dumb’ moments for every other TW character....the Sheriff expressed incredulity that Stiles didn’t know what a pendant was, and Lydia was like wtf how are you this dumb at Stiles when he asked if she read the movie the Little Mermaid because he didn’t know there was also a book.....Allison made the same mistake about bestiary as Scott did because the writers were so impressed by that joke they literally had to do it twice....and do not get me STARTED on the number of moments I can point to in comics AND movies AND cartoons where everyone from Bruce to Tim to Jason to Damian and more, like, make utter bonehead moves or utter completely bonehead sentences.

Despite what rumors of my being an ancient eldritch being might have some believe, I did not actually know Albert Einstein personally, but I can still with complete confidence say I GUARANTEE that at more than one point in his life, even he did things that might have been pointed at by time-travelers on vacay as evidence that geez, old-timey smart people were really dumb, huh.

And I think we would all agree that Albert Einstein was actually a very smart man.

But yeah, point is, both Scott and Dick are very smart characters who for a lot of reasons - including personal choice, as in, they don’t really see the appeal in conforming to standards of what a smart person is SUPPOSED to be like (especially when those standards have a weird amount in common with tendencies often described as elitist or condescending or like, having or pertaining to the qualities of an asshole) - like, they just don’t typically behave or conduct themselves in ways that match up with a lot of the assumptions people have for what ‘makes’ a genius or what that’s supposed to look or sound like.

And because they don’t SEEM like they’re that smart, a lot of effort then gets put into insisting that they’re definitely not, and they can’t be, because see look how dumb here and here and here.....which then leeches over into other aspects of the characters and their stories and dynamics, and then combines with the issues resulting from Point 1 and Point 2 and probably two more I’m not thinking of at the moment but are definitely there so that by their powers combined.....fandom summons Captain Dumbass to take over most interactions with these particular characters. And thus repeatedly and insistently engages with these two and their stories only in very dumb, very limited, and VERY annoying ways.

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x0401x · 4 years

Text

Jeweler Richard Cobalt Short Story

The Checkered Half of Edward Baxter’s Life

Feel free to message me about possible corrections, and please consider supporting the creators by purchasing digital copies of the official releases: Novel || Manga || Fanbook. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

Raw || Index

He met him for the first time when attending a boarding school in Switzerland.

He had no plans for homecoming even as summer vacation came about. It was better to stay in Switzerland as things were noisy at home, his father had told him on the phone, and he was not a fourteen-year-old innocent enough not to catch onto the meaning of “I’ll have to look after you if you come back and this would reduce the time I have for my research” that lay underneath.

There was no helping it, so he secluded himself in the library. However, the library was full of children like him, with no place to return to. He gradually started feeling depressed.

Switzerland, which Queen Elizabeth also loved, had many picturesque tourist attractions. There was no lack of places to have a fun time from dawn to dusk and a pipe organ concert was being held at a church in town, which was quite close to the school, so he imprudently thought that it would be safe even at night.

Since he had an unnecessarily exemplary daily conduct, it was easy to earn permission for exiting the campus. The question of where he was going was disregarded, and it was hard for him when a nuance drifted about, saying that he should go play around a little, if anything. He already knew by then that he was most likely a child who did not specialize much at behaving like a child.

The summer city was brimming with sightseers. Made of brown bricks, the cityscape that looked like those from fairy tales was decorated everywhere with pink and white potted flowers. The city seemed to have many watersides, with restaurants lined up by the river shores, a big black dog that was probably someone’s pet dragging its leash around and waggling, looking like it wanted him to play with it. Just when he thought of playing a little, its owner apparently called for it from afar, so the dog turned its body around and rushed away.

The city was fun at night. Being able to get the feeling that he was with someone even without being accompanied was just what he needed.

He only realized that he was lost long after he had started losing his way. He was certain there was a church in that area where a concert was taking place, but while roaming around, what came into his field of vision was nothing but apartment complexes, garbage dumps and tunnels with no signs of life. He had apparently entered a residential area where the public order was not too good, but did not know how to get out. As he decided to just go back the way he had come from, there were people standing behind him once he turned on his heels.

“Yo.”

He was able to tell right away that they were around seventeen to eighteen years old because the boys were wearing parkas and baseball caps. With such looks that one would not see so often in a waterside of bustling terrace cafés, they spoke while chewing gums. Just as an earl would sometimes do, he pretended not to have heard them.

“Shortie, what’cha doin’ out here? Where yer papa and mama?”

“They not around? You alone?”

“Then don’tcha have a wallet with ya?”

“You’re as pretty as a doll, huh. Can’t talk?”

“Young Master, could you please spare us a blessing?”

Cold sweat beaded on his back as he wondered what would happen if he refused. He had begun having boxing lessons, but the classes were strictly separated by age and body weight, so he could not think of it as training for fighting opponents who were clearly older than him.

Just when unpleasant memories started whirling in his head as he pondered what he should do, what he had to do, what he was supposed to do to cut his way through a time like this all by himself, someone most certainly grabbed his arm from the side.

“Hey, Edward! Edward, isn’t that you?”

For a second, he did not know who the owner of that familiar voice was.

Brownish blond hair and light blue eyes, a knit vest and black slacks. Shiny leather shoes and an armor-like smile.

“Je... Jay!”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s me, Jay. I’m happy you remembered.”

The one who went around the boy from behind and hugged him from the shoulder was his cousin, Jeffrey, who was two years older than him. Even as the boy stared at him with eyes that asked why he was in a place like this and how he had gotten here, Jeffrey maintained the same-old theatrical face that he pulled off so well and hid behind his back the one who had the status of a younger brother to him.

“What’re you doing in this place? You’ll be late for the meeting if you don’t hurry. Won’t your uncle be mad if you make him wait any longer? He’s a really scary person.”

“I-I’m sorry. I will be going right away.”

“That’s it, so bye!”

Tightly hugging the shoulder of the one that he was supposed to protect, Jeffrey left the scene. Perhaps due to him handling the matter with such a lighthearted and loud voice, there were no signs of the two chasing after them.

“That was terrifying.”

“We’re leaving this place.”

“All right.”

Jeffrey walked in long strides from the semi-darkness where a fishy smell drifted about to the main street lined with the glow of light poles. The boy walked keeping his body close to Jeffrey’s, as it did not seem like the latter intended to let go of the shoulder that he was firmly holding onto otherwise.

“Honestly, good thing I was around.”

“How...?”

“‘How’, you ask? I’m your super hero, so isn’t it obvious that I’d rush to you when you’re in trouble?”

“Not that; what is the truth?”

“I meant it as the truth, though... Kidding. It was just a coincidence. If I’m not wrong, today’s the day that summer vacation started for you, right? My school was a bit faster to give us leisure time, so I planned to ambush you and make a surprise. But when I visited your school, they said you’d gone out all by yourself, so I was the surprised one,” the older cousin said cheerfully.

He was a man with a big heart, the kind that constantly changed his voice tone and facial expression as he spoke, who was always smiling and accepted first-thing the evaluation that he was charismatic yet shady. Moreover, he continuously took his little brother, who had been born to free-spirited parents and was younger than him, under his feathers. For the boy, his existence was much more than that of an older brother.

At the words “I’m the only one here”, the boy realized that he was relieved. The earl and the even older cousin from whom he would have to conceal this were not there.

“You okay?”

“Yes, but the earl and Brother Henry are not here.”

“Father was in Cannes, I guess. Henry is following him to make appearances. Looks like it’s a busy season for the high society.”

“How awful.”

“I wonder if they’re getting caught up with playing around. Aah, but Henry is a serious guy. Piano practice might be more fun to him than a casino.”

“I think I understand how he feels.”

“That’s right. Let’s go to Cannes with him someday too. Let’s live it up in a casino or something.”

“If I become penniless from buying too many books by then, what will we do?”

“Leave it to me. I might be like this, but I’m hoping to enter the financial business. I’ll lend you as much money as you want. With damn high interest.”

“You little—”

They shoved each other around as if to hug one another, and by the time they had all but arrived at the main street, filled as it was with human presence, the boy finally released a sigh. That was dreadful. He was not very used to being threatened. At school, he had already grown somewhat used to having his appearance mocked or people using the words “I’ll throw the trash away for you” as an excuse to touch his body, and had come up with countermeasures to some extent, but troubles outside the school were always beyond hypothesis.

As he gave an abrupt shudder upon recalling being sandwiched from front and back by two older boys, something landed on top of his head with a tap. It was Jeffrey’s hand.

Patting his golden-haired head in light rolls with the palm of his hand, the boy who was two years older grinned at him. “Well, first things first, you should start with not getting lost.”

“You were watching me?”

“I wasn’t. I ran around here and there because of that. It had me out of breath, but I was a prize-worthy elite actor for not letting it show, huh? I want a trophy.”

“Then how did you know I was lost?”

“You’re not the kind of kid who’d go to a place like that on purpose, Ricky.”

At that moment, the boy had the sudden realization that his cousin was a child merely two years above him, and so he was supposed to be protected, not to be protecting someone else. Fearing kidnappings, everyone in the earl’s estate had an enormous amount of money on insurance payouts. The fact that he would rather be someone who had next to no worries in going outside of school than have the presence of the bodyguards who would be tagging along with him in normal circumstances made the boy shiver again.

“Hum... Jeff, is everything all right for you? My apologies for that. Your guards—”

“You’re still on about that? Y’know, you could just leave it as ‘that was terrifying’. I lost my guards. I mean, it’s no fun with them. I think I’ll get a call from Father lecturing me again, but isn’t it kinda disturbing to have two old men in suits clinging to my back even when I go see my dear little brother’s face?”

He had probably taken that measure due to foreseeing that the bodyguards would scary his cousin, the boy realized. Before he sank into an apologetic sea once more, Jeffrey found a random shop at the side of the road and took a seat in the quiet interior. He ordered two lemonades. As he was striking a lighthearted talk about how they were perfect for Switzerland in the summer...

“Hum.”

“What?”

“Who was that Edward from just now?”

“Uh? Aah, no one. I let it out of my mouth without much thought.”

Jeffrey did not say, “It’s because they might memorize your name if I were so stupidly honest to call you Richard”. His consideration from not wanting to say it and expressly scare his cousin, as well as his carefreeness of not deeming it necessary to be said, were comfortable for the boy.

Edward, Edward, he repeated in his heart the unfamiliar name, and after drinking just a little bit of the lemonade, the boy whispered intermittently, “It’d be good if you had a name like that too.”

“Uh?”

As he said, “Like Edward”, Jeffrey laughed.

“Isn’t that ‘Jay’?”

“That was just because I didn’t manage to say ‘Jeffrey’...”

“Hmm,” Jeffrey interjected with an indifferent attitude, sucking onto the straw of his lemonade.

Aah, it’s the face of someone who’s planning something fun, the boy noted, and as he laughed a little, his older cousin showed a smile three times happier than that.

“Then give me one.”

“Uh?”

“You can give me a name like that too. Let’s make them secret names between us.”

“For Brother Henry too?”

“Keep it a secret from Henry.”

The smile of his cousin, who laughed without any maliciousness, was as sweet as nectar. The boy displayed a facial expression of sincere reassurance, then began turning over the name dictionary inside his head with “not this, not that either”. No matter what, his favorite names either were related to individuals from classic literature or leaned towards Japanese people, but none of them suited Jeffrey’s face.

The boy made up his mind about the fact that a basic name would be best and raised his head, peeking at his cousin’s eyes. “James.”

“‘James’?”

“James.”

“Huhu, roger that, Edward. I’m James, yeah? Aah, what’s my family name? Anything but ‘Bones’, ‘kay? I don’t like martini that much.”

“Jeff, you already drink?”

“We’re talking about James now and Jeff has nothing to do with it.”

While he jokingly raised the lemonade’s straw, spinning it in twirls like a magic wand, the boy observed him as if looking at a gemstone that emanated a dazzling shine. He was a wonderful person who could do anything and who showed concern for the boy – more than that, the boy considered him someone special and could not come home to anyone else in the world, no matter where he searched. He was a treasure that the boy most definitely could not exchange for anything, not even if an ancient king came up to him with an elephant loaded to the brim with pearls, rubies and emeralds on its back, and whenever the boy was in bad health, he would always think that, if they were ever pulled apart to places where they could never see each other again, he would cry profusely.

He was the one who promptly contacted the boy whenever anything happened in general, driving away the latter’s nightmares, so the honor of granting a name to someone like that gradual and silently filled the boy’s heart, turned into a word and overflowed, “Ya’aburnee.”

“Hm?”

As Jeffrey had apparently not heard it well, the boy repeated the word for him, “Ya’aburnee. The word is cut between the ‘ya’ and the ‘aburnee’. The accent is on the first vowel.”

“‘Ya’aburnee’, huh? It’s pretty yet has a mysterious ring to it.”

“It is Arabic.”

“Learned a new word again, huh, you damn prodigy?”

“I am no prodigy.”

“I meant an ‘effort prodigy’. ‘Cause you’re a hardworker. Okay, my secret name is James Ya’aburnee. Edward, what about you?”

“Uh?”

“What’s Edward’s family name?”

Taken aback, the boy hung his head after a moment of indecision, looking depressed. When Jeffrey asked what happened, the boy timidly raised his face. “Hum... The two are real brothers, so they have the same family name.”

As he said so with a voice that sounded like it was fading, Jeffrey’s eyes widened just slightly, and after nodding with a “hun-hun”, he grinned. That smile of Jeffrey’s was even now said to be difficult for his parents to distinguish whether it was fake or not, but the boy was able to tell the difference. If a dimple appeared on his left cheek, it was not a fake smile. Jeffrey himself had told him that.

There was a dimple on his elder cousin’s left cheek.

“Heeh~! That so?”

“It is so.”

“Then James and Edward are really just like us.”

“Uh?”

“I mean, we’re real brothers, right? That’s how I think.”

As Jeffrey ill-manneredly drank the remaining part of his lemonade in slurps, the clerk made a disgusted face at him. The headline on the magazine that she had in hands read, “How to Date Rich Men”, and so the boy felt like saying something rude to her, such as, “I think the person you just glared at is probably richer than the ones in that magazine”. It felt like he could do anything that the boy usually was unable to. He was cheerful, bright and warm at heart.

As he sat quietly without saying anything, Jeffrey smiled subtly and gently rested his hand on the boy’s golden-haired head. “Wanna go back to school? Or not?”

“I want to be together for a bit longer.”

“Okay. Then let’s do that.”

Holding hands with his “little brother” of two years bellow him, Jeffrey escorted him to a hotel near his dormitory, converting into a parent and calling the boy’s school to request permission for him to spend the night out, and after checking into one of those cheap inns that was would be crammed with skiers in the winter, the two immersed themselves in conversation on their bed the all night long.

Jeffrey talked about their homes and families. About his friends. About financing, which he was studying. About drama theory. About how he felt like throwing up from agony when preparing for an assignment where he completely slipped into the role of a prime minister who had only managed to rescue 150 civilians alive out of 300 that had been taken hostage by terrorists. About how he cracked up when he was told, “Everyone will stop trusting you” after he showed off too much the chameleon acting that he had mastered in drama class.

Jeffrey’s talks were not tiring – all topics were interesting, adding gemstones of lustrous gleam to the boy’s heart one after another. In return, the boy talked about the satisfying life he led in at the Swiss lodging house. About the bright sunlight, the climate that was warmer than England’s, the ever-white snowy peaks overlooked in the distance, the lively teachers who were like sportsmen. About how he not have many friends, but believed that it was due to him not conducting himself like a child, so there was no helping it, and how he would not mind it much if he did not have anyone, as long as he had Jeffrey.

As he was sprawled on the bed while resting his cheek on one hand, Jeffrey tipped Richard’s head back down. “You shouldn’t please me so much. Or else we won’t be able to stay away from each other.”

“What is so bad about that?”

“When you start hating me, I don’t want you to think, ‘I hate him but I can’t let go of him’.”

“I believe something like that will never happen. So that is okay.”

“There you go again saying something that makes me happy... Y’know, Ricky, people have this thing called a ‘rebellious phase’.”

“It seems I do not.”

“Plus, it’s pretty scary afterwards; I read a paper that said reactions also happen.”

“I do not have that, but thanks.”

After rubbing each other’s heads into a mess, they resumed the talk about Edward and James. Where the two of them lived, if their relationship was a favorable one, if they had any other acquaintances and what they usually did to pass the time. Dreams and jokes mixed up with the human drama built up amidst their sleepiness, and so they became yakuza, lived in Japan and fought over whether or not to put wasabi on sushi, but were the good-natured kind of duo that would always make up immediately. They did not endeavor illegal activities and instead were yakuza who respected the old-fashioned thinking of “humanity and justice”, of lending a helping hand to people in trouble, and did not bear tattoos as they were a little scary. Amongst the yakuza, there was a pledge called sworn siblinghood, but since they were blood-related siblings, so there was no need for such a thing.

By the time they had started to doze off, the boy woke up with a start. Jeffrey was not making a drowsy face. His bottomless eyes, which appeared to be looking into somewhere far away, even so maintained their focus immersed on Richard’s face.

“Hey, Ricky, what’s the continuation to that story?”

“Hueh?”

“What happens to Edward and James in the distant future?”

Amidst the sensation that he seemed to be airily drifting towards the world of dreams, the boy tilted his neck. He had no idea why Jeffrey was asking something so obvious. His mouth moved in a natural manner, “They continue getting along forever.”

“I see. Go rest already,” Jeffrey said, getting up from the single-person bed, giving him a pillow and putting a blanket over him, then tucked himself into his own bed and attempted to sleep.

He did try to fall into slumber, but upon noticing his small cousin staring at him with eyes that seemed to be imploring for something, he took his pillow and went back to the boy’s side. Like two hatchlings huddling their feathers onto each other, the two children slept while dreaming about the future.

The next morning, Jeffrey took a still sleepy-looking Richard back to school, scattering an amiable “I’m leaving him in your care” all over the place, shaking people’s hands here and there and returning to his angry-faced bodyguards’ side. Gossip ran about like gale amongst students with time to spare, saying that the second son of an earldom – a brilliant honors student even within a famous public school from England – had apparently come to see a sibling of his who was in this school, which became a rumor in the whole school at one point, but said rumor, like a mirage faintly surfacing over a lake in the summer, was gone before autumn came around.

“Let’s decide on your name.”

“Eh?”

“Calling you ‘Seigi’ would have a bad effect in a situation where there are only enemies. If I call you by a completely different name, there is the possibility that you would not be able to react, so I believe a name somewhat similar to your own is safer.”

“Then, ‘Seigi’, ‘Seigi’, ‘Seigi’... Make it ‘Seiji’.”

“Too close. Some people might mishear it as ‘Seigi’ instead. Think of a surname. I will call you by that.”

Richard had started saying odd things about perhaps having to throw fists at an accessories shop that was disseminating fake turquoises. For me to come up with a fake name. Indeed, revealing our true names even if by accident could be a dangerous situation.

I squeezed up a knowledge that I didn’t have, deep in thought. Something that sounded kind of similar to my real name. Yet was a different name. Hmm.

“‘Nakata’, ‘Nakata’, ‘Nakata’... ‘Yamada’, Yamada? No, ‘Tanaka’ is also... Ah~, I wonder which. Yamada or Tanaka?”

“Then let’s make it Yamada. Yamada Seiji-san. I will be counting on you. I am Edward Baxter.”

“Where’s ‘Richard’ as the base for that?”

“I will be in your care.”

“My pleasu~re.”

Wearing a red open-necked shirt that looked like it could show up in contests for rare clothing articles, I sat on the Jaguar’s passenger seat. However, in terms of outfit eccentricity, I didn’t feel like I could beat the man sitting next to me. White, white, white. It was thoroughly white from top to bottom, the hairstyle pulled all the way back. It was a bit of an underground person look.

“I’m checking just in case, but what kind of setting is this Edward Baxter-sensei from?”

“A messenger from the Great Universe who miraculously predicts fortunes and foresees the fate of gems.”

“Uh. Got it. I’ll do my best not to laugh.”

“Obviously. Laughing at a messenger of the Great Universe is insolence.”

“Hahaa~”

The Jaguar sped up like always. If this car had a voice, it felt like it would frantically cause a stir, asking, “Mister, aren’t you too different from usual?” but the Jaguar was reticent and loyal.

As the vehicle kept running, my nervousness increased a little. I wanted to say something, but Richard’s profile was rock-hard. It would feel awkward if I discussed about tea and snacks that had nothing to do with it here and now. But I wanted to talk. I was able to come up with just one thing when wondering what I should say.

“Is there... a family in the setting of that Baxter-sensei? Or does he not have any, since he’s a messenger of the Great Universe? Sorry. You didn’t think that far, did you?”

When I asked that, Richard briefly made a strange face. Unlike his usual refreshing smile, that expression could only be described as a “suggestive grin”, with a gaze that didn’t appear to be looking at me but at something in the distance.

Then he stated, “He has no relatives whosoever.”

“Roger that.”

And so, the two of us headed to the shop of shady history. Edward Baxter-shi, who claimed to have not a single relative, seemed to be making a just slightly sad-looking face within the glass of the windshield. However, Yamada Seiji courteously pretended that he was not at all seeing the weakness of a messenger of the Great Universe.

He had no idea what Nakata Seigi made of it, though.

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #the case files of jeweler richard #jeweler richard #richard ranashinha de vulpian #nakata seigi #tsujimura nanako #jeffrey claremont #novel #web short stories #richard #WOW THIS HURT #THANKS I HATE IT #my translation

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faustonastring · 4 years

Note

Okay but how about the main six taking care of mcs and their kids

Thank the both of you for requesting! I’m gonna try to make everything about the kid(s?) as vague as possible, so it could fit better with your apprentice, so this is going to be mainly focused on the main six. (Tagging you so you can see it @firstshoeweaselmaker )

Main six taking care of their kids

Asra

He wants to give his kid(s) a much better life than he had. He grew up on the streets thinking his parents had died, he does not want his kid(s) to even have that cross their mind(s) he wants to be there for his kid(s) to make up for his parents not being there for him if that makes any sense.

His parents are also very involved in helping him raise his kid(s) kind of as a way to make it up him, ya know,,,,disappearing when he was a very young child giving him a lot of mental health issues, but both you and asra, reassure them nothing was their fault, and they owe him nothing.

He’s also a very involved parent, he takes his kid(s) on a lot of adventures with him, to the woods, the palace, nopal, anywhere he can think of, and he shows them a lot of magick tricks, and helps them learn when the time is right. He’s the cool parent. Like Regina George’s mom. (Who he quotes in a modern au)

It’s safe to say that muriel is also very involved and will watch your kid(s) when ever the two of you need,, some alone time. But when your kid(s) get older,,, ahhh things don’t work out the best,,, it’s not that they hate asra it’s just that their teenagers! And Asra lacks personal boundaries and has and will continue to accidentally walk in on your kid masturbating and he never recovers from it. (I’m sorry some one had to say it)

Nadia

I’ve mentioned this before, but she’s very reluctant to ask her family for help. She’s stubborn okay, so instead she reads up on it herself, and only reluctantly lets her family help when they finally find out.

Her family pretty much takes over your kid(s), they even make a schedule so the can organize taking care of your kid so they all get to have a turn. Nadia doesn’t mind, she enjoys their company, but every time they visit she gets annoyed because she hasn’t got to spend time with her kid(s) in like days.

The parenting is very balanced between the two of you, you end up just falling into a schedule, where you both can evenly spend time with your kid(s). She likes to take your kid(s) on walks through the gardens, and as soon as their old enough she teaches them how to ride horses, and if they aren’t really grasping it,or if she doesn’t have the time she’ll hire them a personal trainer

When he kid(s) get older she tries to give them as much space and responsibility as she can, but is still kind of mother henish around them. She grew up with six (?) sisters, so don’t worry she understand boundaries, and will never break them. Atleast not purposely. But she is very stern and won’t hesitate to punish your kid(s) if they’re out past curfew.

Julian

He’s panicked all over as soon as the two of you decide you want a kid. He’s reading up on all his medical studies he has on children, reading books, newspapers, and asking every parent he knows for advice because he doesn’t want to mess this up. You trust him enough to want to raise a kid(s) with him, so he’s not going to break your trust. He promises.

Portia and Mazelinka will fatten your kid(s) up a little don’t worry. Julian freaks out about your kid(s) gaining too much weight too fast, but Mazelinka and Portia are quick to say “it’s just baby fat Ilya they’ll grow out of it in no time!” He still worries a little (trust me he’s over reacting)

He’s very all over the place, but he’s a great dad. He can be very stern and strict if he has to be, and he doesn’t let his kids run around like wild (I’m looking at you asra) but he does make sure they have fun, and he brings them on lots of voyages across the sea, and makes sure that you all take a yearly trip back to Nevivon

When his kid(s) get(s) older he keeps the authoritative parenting style he developed, and makes sure he gives them a lot of freedom. He knows how teenagers are, even though he’s not the best at boundaries he’s trying. Just don’t break his trust. He’s also the type of parent to wait in the pitch black living room for his kid(s) to get home from sneaking out and say “so where were you last night” making his kid(s) jump out of their skin

Portia

She would be the sweetest mom ever. She’s already looking into good school districts (or the vesuvian equivalent) and making cookies for the vesuvian equivalent of a PTA that she’s not a part of yet but will be sooner or later

Julian would be such a fun uncle. Like something about him reminds me of one of those goofy uncles that make short appearances in like ninety’s sitcoms, if that makes any sense to anyone else. Also every one goes out to mazelinkas for dinner every Friday. It’s kinda like an unspoken rule now

She’s very comforting and loving- well they all are but espically Portia. Her house is always the go to place for play dates, and she makes the best pillow forts (out of the main six asra is second and Muriel is third, the rest of them equally suck) she’s also great at playing pretend, and when her and Julian get together to play pretend with you’re kid(s)? They’re at it for hours.

When her kid(s) start to grow up she gets very emotional, and starts to ask you for another baby, (you either get another kid somehow, or adopt another cat, either way she’s happy) she respects the boundaries of her kids, but let’s her kids walk over her if they start to break her trust because she has a hard time saying no to them.

Muriel

He double checks like a million times just to make sure you want to have a kid(s) with him.Like there’s no one else you’ve been seeing right? That will make a better farther than him? Are you sure? But once he’s over the initial shock he’s thrilled.

Asra is all over your kid(s) within days baby talking them no matter how old they are, pinching their cheeks, he also brings them back cool toys from his journeys. Nadia also showers your kid(s) in expensive gifts. Behind muriels back of course because she already knows he’s way to humble to let his kid accept anything like this.

He’s a very loving and stern dad. The only reason he’s so stern sometimes is because he cares about your kid(s) and he doesn’t want them getting hurt, or doing anything stupid. But he makes the best toys out of wood, and tries to sew little stuffed animals for them, no matter how old they are. He also brings them out on a lot of hikes and teaches them about nature and how to survive off the grid.

When your kid(s) starts to get older, it does upset him a little bit but isn’t too phased by it, he’s getting older too, it would be wrong to have another kid right now.....unless. But all jokes aside he like Julian is the type of dad to wait for his kids to come home from sneaking out in the dark, but instead of trying to talk to them about it he sends them to their room and grounds them until further notice

Lucio

Please pray for this man,, he does not have the paitence for kids, teenagers, babies, quite frankly he thinks babies are gross and slimy and wet, that it until the both of you adopt or have a baby (if that’s what you choose to do in your time line you don’t have too, of course)

Dude pray for morga too, she can’t afford to make the same mistake again, she really can’t. She visits every now and then, to see how things are going, and is putting her full trust in you too make sure your kid(s) don’t turn out anything like lucio.

He’s ahhh,,,I’m gonna be honest, not a good dad at all, I even think the devs ranked him, worst or second worst with kid(s) so :) have fun! He’s trying he really is, but morga was kind of an abusive parent, and lucio is,,,,well lucio. He’ll spoil your kid(s) rotten, and is really trying his best but aghhhhh he’s just no bueno. And morga isn’t any help either.

When your kid(s) are teenagers have fun, because not only are you dealing with how ever many bratty spoiled teenagers you have, but you’re also dealing with lucio who is just as bad. He can be stern if he has too, but Lucios version of ‘stern’ is just yelling back twice as loud. He also lets his kid(s) host parties at his house, and has crashed one of his kid(s) parties more than once.

Thanks for reading! If you liked what you read you can find my masterlist here, which I’ll be updating soon!

Next headcanon: the main six playing the arcana and getting an upright ending!

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