#(looking at this site specifically; saying this is an understatement)

[thatonecrookedsmile]

Through 2023, I've been sketching and conceptualizing my designs for the human cast of BATDR. Giving shape to some ideas, testing new ones, you know the deal.

And December of last year, I wanted to make some slightly more elaborate drawings ("elaborate" in comparison to the previous sketches in this case), with some of these designs. To sort of solidify these ideas better.

The result turned out quite nice, despite a few things. (why are noses so complicated from a head-on perspective) Last month I decided to bring these drawings + 3 small doodles to color. To also solidify how they look in color.

Obviously, this isn't the entire DR cast. There are only 8 designs here, it's a little less than half of the entire cast, I still have to show a lot lol. These above are what I chose to draw in recent times. For the rest of the characters, it's a matter of 1. fleshing out the designs (e.g. Angus Newman, Kitty Thompson) or 2. I still have to think of a design for them (e.g. Muncie Dunn, Telly Wester). When I have a better vision for them, I'll do something similar to what I did here. Make some more elaborate drawings for them, color them digitally and post them here eventually.

I don't know if the text I put is too big or too small, so here are the characters in each image, left to right: -Jane Todd, Kay Lee. -Grace Conway -Bill Danton, Lance Derby -Sally Newt, Hudson Doyle and Carl (one could argue that Carl might not be a real in-universe person, but I still wanted to do a design for him) There are still some details that have yet to be really set in stone, but even so, what we have above is practically the main vision for these designs solidified, so to speak,which I'm happy with.

At first I was only going to color the first three images, but I liked the other 3 mini drawings that I made at the time so I decided to put them here too. Eventually I'll make some better drawings with them, so the next time I show other BATDR designs, I'll post them together. Maybe in the future, when all the designs are finalized, I will make a digital drawing with all the designs, in one place. I tried to do something similar in the past with my BATIM designs, so it would be interesting to do something like this again with the Dark Revival cast.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #batdr #bendy and the dark revival #jane todd #kay lee #grace conway #bill danton #lance derby #sally newt #hudson doyle #carl batdr #crookedsmileart #happy with these designs #especially Bill and Hudson's #It's been interesting to work on my DR human designs #I know that the new guys introduced into the game aren't talked about that much by the community #(looking at this site specifically; saying this is an understatement) #and I understand and I think I even know why of this #but;idk;I want to give them some appreciation;yk #draw some things with them; make them interact with other characters from the franchise #you know; I want to do something for them #give them some attention; #plus;knowing me; #I would still make myself learn to remember the names of all the characters introduced via audio logs; #regardless of whether or not these new guys have the same impact as the IM cast #so it was inevitable lol #(can I offer you some fan-designs in these strange times)

[dev1lm4n]

familiar face

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: you're wicked fantasies' number one fan, who would've guessed that he'd be a part of your host family.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, masturbation, internet porn, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned

notes: this is set on 2013 like the game, but characters are potrayed like how they did in the series. send me a req or chat me!

To say you’re obsessed would be an understatement to the severity of your addiction. 

Enslaved to this certain habit of yours, your mind was wrapped around it like a wrapper to a gas station lollipop. Tacky and overzealous. A constant revolting urge that needed relieving, tension that made guts throb and lungs squeaking out for dear life when not pleased. This addiction of yours wasn’t as customary as slender rolls of cigarettes and weed brownies, it was a little odd and shameful to admit to. Still, it was a part of you. Even when you’d rather shuffle it into a dark corner than be confronted by it.

You couldn’t remember how it all started, but it seems to have taken on a life of its own. Would it be shameless if you openly admit that you always open up a schedule for it? It became a routine. Perhaps the unfinished papers, the impossibly low marks, and the frequent suffering was what drove you to it. It served as an easy release. No hassle. No awkward ha-ha-has and faking ah-ah-ahs. No mindless chattering over football or the current state of the government to earn what you truly want: a good fucking orgasm.

This addiction comes in the form of a man. 

A man who exists within the confines of your 13-inch laptop. More precisely, within a specific site that begins with the abbreviation for pornography and ends with hub.

Your eyes cruised over the edge of your lousy laptop, which still continues to emit a weird helicopter noise despite your latest visit to a technician, to find the time. To your pleasure, it marked precisely 11 PM, the exact time in which you promised yourself to put an end to your essay despite how unmethodical it looked. A silent smile made its way to your lips as your cursor quickly pressed the x button, before surely making its way to create a new tab.

“P”

Just the single letter quickly brought up your most frequent website. A simple website predominantly black with splashes of yellow accents, though what was exceptionally appealing was the instant stimuli given from the front page. Your eyes twinkled like a starved pervert. What greeted your eyes first was a lady facing your way. Preppy rounded glasses with a shade of mauve lipstick you’re quite fond of, dressed in what you could only assume to be a dollar tree medical gown. She looked like she’s in pure bliss, like the curved cock stuffing her cunt was enough to leave her boneless. “Creepy Doctor Convinces Young Asian Medical Intern to Fuck to Get Ahead” - what an odd title you remark internally.

You scrolled lower with two fingers on the track pad as if it’d get interesting - you knew it wouldn’t, but you couldn’t help feeling curious at what other people jerk off to. “Amateur FOURSOME have FUN. Rough, wet, & sloppy” was what caught your eyes next by the sheer visual it played out as a preview. Two girls were slobbering on two separate weeping cocks. Blinding porn lighting harsh against their faces as they forced their heads down it with overdone expressions. You knew it didn’t feel good. Not when he’s rubbing her labia like a DJ. Not when he’s pistoning in her like he’s a horse in heat with no tempo whatsoever. Were you being way too tough on porn production? Unreasonably so.

Just like you’re programmed in your line of codes, you typed out his channel next.

“Wicked Fantasies”

His channel popped up on top with 150K subscribers, 4.1K friends, and 50.7M video views. For a minute, your mind raced to imagine if you’d stood out to him compared to the rest of his 149.999 subscribers. If he'd like you. If you're pretty enough to join his selected pick of co-stars. It’s stupid, you’re painfully aware, to fantasize about getting personal with a porn actor. You shook the silly thought away immediately as you slowly glided your fingers across your touchpad to admire his works. He was just so.. breathtaking in every single video despite the lack of face in some. A diverse line of co-stars - pale, tanned, dark - did nothing but help put his devilish charms forth.

You let your fingers stroke the inside of your thigh, the part that’s lightly exposed. It’s shameful to admit that you’ve watched all his videos, but you did. Each and every one of them with no fail. Despite the familiarity, every footage presented on his page does nothing but rile you up, sending you to a frenzied madness. You let out a small longing sigh. Your gentle fingers slowly brush over the thin material of your panties, over your throbbing hole, feeling the moisture grow there.

“20 year old Babysitter takes a rough fucking for extra cash Watch her face when it goes in!” appealed to you more than anything. Partially because you’d wish you could babysit his children if it meant you’d be able to get that kind of method of transaction, you practically salivate at the thought alone. The preview played. Short clips compiled together to compel watchers and god damn was it working. Your breath grew shallow as if the oxygen surrounding you was as good as solid matter. Still, you worked your way down the page to evaluate all your options thoroughly.

“Please cum in my pussy. Sweet May earns a huge creampie after a deep sensual fucking” was what you settled with. His promise was what drew you in, to cum in her pussy and show his masterpiece. The way you clicked onto the title was feverish, even more when you had it on full screen. Your laptop was cushioned on a haphazard of pillows, allowing you to get into a more accommodating position. You laid on your side, before shuffling off your shorts from the waist band. A nervous puff of air barely escaped your lips as you clicked play.

The video ran.

Your throat bobbed nervously.

His videos were always edited in a way that shows his age. Cursive letters noting down his and his co-star’s name - with a font you knew only people over the age of thirty would use - entered your screen for a split second before it quickly cuts off to another scene. What you could only describe as a reassuring grunt seeped through your cable earphones and onto your nerve receptors, causing your hole to twitch impatiently.

You could see him clearly now.

Well, not all that clear, but you could see his half hard cock prodding the girl’s soft lips. Her dirty blonde hair framed her face prettily as she took him in with such expertise. He molded her mouth to the shape of his cock - slow but sure - right to the very hilt, before pulling her back out. A sloppy wet trail left behind to gleam under the dim lights. It’s incredibly sensual, none of the obviously fake porny moans in motion, and it left you wondering if he’d morph your chaste mouth to the size of his as well. Would he like that? 

Another scene cuts through the view. This time he was gently running his calloused fingers down her core, barely over the thick stripe of hair, then it went over her hip bone and back to her thighs. May, who you knew by heart from all the videos she had with him, didn’t say a word. Not even a small hitch in her breath. If you were there, you’d sure to be a whimpering mess just by him touching. Just by that throaty chuckle he lets out when he's amused.

You’re five minutes into the video when he finally relieved you of your suffering. He was on his knees, bending her pliant body down on her fours. His large hands gripped over the skin on May’s hip for support as he sheathed himself in one go. It went deep, you know that for sure from the way she let out a satisfied moan. Her face contorted when he pulled back and thrusted all the way in once more. You could feel it now; the way your pelvis spasmed at the sight even when you’re barely hovering your palm over your clothed center. She was the one getting fucked, but you could feel his phantom thrust pounding slowly. Over and over again.

He was cut off right by the shoulder, but he made an appearance when he slightly leaned down to gather her hair into a loose bundle and he was a dream. Dark hair with light speckles of grays you could barely make out from the quality of the video. His brown eyes pierced into the camera - as if he’s watching your needy expression, making fun of the way you couldn’t help but rub your fingers over your sensitive nub because God does it feel good. It sent shivers right down your spine,  

You were entirely sure he was trying to edge you, because the next scene had you bucking your knees forward to add that extra pressure. He had May down on her back with his camera hovering over her, capturing the way in which he forced his way in. His ruddy tip nudged her hole as if it was a gentle knock to a neighbor’s door. It wasn’t enough anymore, you had to pull your panties to the side. With your bare cunt exposed, you gently tapped your clit with the tip of your finger, feeling the sensitivity start to build at the directness.

Your unoccupied hand slowly slipped under your shirt, tracing over your oversensitive skin before it nestled around your nipple, squeezing and running your fingers right on the center of the hardened lump. May didn’t even resemble you, but you could fantasize yourself in her position. He abandoned the camera spotlighting his close-ups to bend her in a nicer position. With her legs up together facing the ceiling above them, in order to create a nice tightness for him to make use of. May bit her thumb in exchange. A chorus of soft, feather-light feminine moans followed his every move. You could hear him now, breathing terribly unstable as he found a way to insert himself deeper.

“Such a smart girl,” he whispered.

He had her in a mating press. His large forearm supported the rock of his hips and you obsessed over it, how it’d perhaps feel when he held her by the thighs. How it’d feel if it found its way around your neck to constrict it, to choke you as he bullied his cock in your leaking pussy. You let your pointer finger spread the slickness down your heat, making its rounds around your clit, before probing it right inside. Just one because that's all you managed to get confident in. The cushy feeling was way too familiar for you and you wished it was someone else’s finger - maybe a larger one like Wicked Fantasies’ - but you’re well grateful with yours.

“Yeah. You like it deep?”

He asked with that Texan twang of his. The teasing lilt of his voice does well to compliment the skillful way in which he stretched May’s hole. You could barely see him in frame, but you’d catch glimpses of his boyish grin each time. It drove you to pump your finger faster, In and out, in and out, steady to the way he moved his hips.

“You feel it in your tummy?”

He attempted once again, but the helpless girl could only moan out a barely there response. You were reacting frantically though. So turned on by the sight alone that you had to dig your canines onto the tender skin of your hand. You wanted him so badly, it’s making you spill all over. Slick ran down your thighs to your unmade bed, drool spread across your hand as you continued to muffle out your pathetic noises.

“Please cum in my pussy,” May could hardly whimper. The desperation in her voice made you grind your pelvis onto your palm in an equally desperate manner.

“You want me to cum in your pussy? Want me to fill you up?”

Yes, please, please fill me up, plagued your mind. You curled your fingers inside, a pathetic attempt to stroke that sweet spot inside. 

Over and over again as the man in the video groaned lowly. When he let out an almost animalistic growl to end his rodeo, you faltered quickly. Your leg twitched as your orgasm began to taper. Quickly like a full sweep on a bowling course, knocking down all that’s left of your dignity. You managed to keep your voice low, but you couldn’t say the same about the absurd amount of wetness soiling your bed sheets. The scene cut off to him showing off his pearlescent load deep inside of her and it almost made you cum a second time.

Wicked Fantasies had 149.999 other subscribers, but you’re sure you were the filthiest out of all of them.

Austin was nothing like you’d expect. The vibrant blue van you’ve rode in for an entire day or so slowly rolled to a stop in front of a classic suburban home. Empty roads and loud calls of cockerels audible even from within the confines of metal walls. The van’s engine hummed softly as it idled, tinted windows reflecting the honeyed rays of the morning sun. This was your stop. A house of character with an eye-catching letter eleven hammered sloppily down the porch, a lone pick-up truck parked right down the center, and a red mailbox that was stuffed to the very brim with spam.

As you stepped out, you were quickly enveloped by warm air, causing beads to form evidently on your forehead. The humid climate was a good reminder that you’ve stepped into another realm, a new page to your life which held Texas’ scorching sun and faint whiffs of leather. You looked rather.. constipated standing on the very end of the driveway. Like a knock-off salesman with a large tote slung over your left shoulder and a suitcase tight against your right. The look on your face didn’t help either, a concoction of sleep deprived and nervous.

You willed yourself to march towards the front porch.

That went well.

What came next was to knock and you swore you get entirely weak in the knees when the realization came sweeping in.

After a series of pacing back-and-forth and tugging at both ends of your lips to train a polite smile on, you knocked on the large front door. Once. Twice. Then, one last time. Wooden doors always sound incredibly heavy and imposing, you cringed at the mere sound.

A few hurried thuds echoed to where you’re standing and you’ve never felt more desperate to make a run for it before someone made it to the front door. What if they’re a sleazy nasty couple who’d want to traffic you into some weird foot-fetish chain? What if they’re a pair of delusional flat earth believers that unironically declined the existence of climate change? What if-

The door swung open in one grand motion. 

You had always been a pessimist - the world always seems to fuck you up in the most creative way possible - but what met your gaze was a young girl. Her hair was like coils of pure earth, softly reflecting the light of the sun; each curl trembled subtly in a humid breeze, a compliment to her doe eyes. She greeted you with a gentle smile. One that speaks language the two of you understood without fail. In return, you tilted your head in a friendly manner as you adorned a sheepish look.

“Hey. You’re the exchange student, right? Come inside!” She invited you in with an astonishing amount of energy considering it’s barely past six. “I’ve been waiting for you all morning, y’know.”

You nodded surely as you awkwardly shimmied your way around her lithe figure. It’s taking all of you to not do a full head-to-toe scan of what she looks like out of sheer curiosity, but you thrive in the short glances you could catch of her. Was she the daughter in this family? It’d be nice to have someone you could relate to, maybe.. maybe you could even paint your nails together and relish in fun girly activities.

“Sorry. Our van broke down on the highway,” you gave your lousy excuse.

“No need. My dad’s not even up yet,” she spoke with a small sigh. Her long fingers massaged circles on her knotted temple as if emphasizing her irritation. “Just put your bags down here. I’ll sort ‘em out for you this afternoon.”

With her confirmation in mind, you pushed your suitcase over to one side of the hallway, along with the tote which weighed more than you do. Without the accessories you’ve been holding onto from the very start of your trip, you felt naked and exposed. Unsure of how to position your arms and legs. It wasn’t a good look, but you stood entirely still like a Barbie display. Both of your eyes stared down at the younger girl as she swayed her hips to the light music, cooking up something skillfully with the flip of her hand.

“What’s your name?”

“Sarah. Sarah Miller. I know what yours is from my dad,” she looked over her shoulder cheekily.

“Sarah’s a nice name.”

“Is it? I think it sounds aggressively Texan. Like I’d go yeehaw, howdy young lady with cowboy boots and a good plaid shirt on,” she chuckled. “Oh and then I’d lasso you real good.”

Her remarks were as refreshing as a summer breeze even when they’re a tad bit snarky. You already knew that she’s going to get along incredibly well with you. Witnessing her shimmy her shoulders carelessly made you unaware of the heavy thump steadily making its way down the stairs.

“There’s the genius who landed me the name,” Sarah whistled out, pulling you out of your hazy daze.

You turned your head in a one-eighty motion, every last inch of self-control being betrayed at the motion of being finally able to see the man who’d house you. The head of the house who’d you continue to see for the rest of the year. There was a lot of expectation you bore on your shoulders, but what fell beneath your eyes exceeded everything. You weren’t even doing a good job in pretending you’re not entirely taken aback, wide-eyes bulged out of your sockets and you looked more like a cartoon sheep more than anything.

He was beautiful. 

“Hey, babygirl,” he greeted Sarah with that rugged voice of his. You could hear the weight of his step as he made his way over to his daughter. Every move that he made, even the part where he hastily tucked his shirt in his worn-out jeans, made your blood drain. At his arrival, he wrapped his large forearm around her shoulders before landing a sweet kiss on top of her head.

“Our guest has arrived, hm?”

“Yes. You were rude not to greet her in front of our door,” Sarah protested openly as she took hold of the plates she cooked up. She made a double trip from the kitchen to the dining table for the first time in forever since they’re finally upgrading to a three person party.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he offered her a gentle apology before taking a seat in front of the piping hot plates. His legs spread out enough to occupy two leg spaces, though he was left in a masculine position that was charming enough to have you forgive the action. Sarah placed a carton of orange juice on the table aggressively. Some of the containings spurted out and left a pooling mess right by his plate.

“No coffee for you today, dad,” she huffed. Sarah was impatient in starting her breakfast, cutleries already in hand as she dug into the charred sausages.

That was until she realized that you were still standing there on the edge of the room, as out-of-place as ever, looking down at the two as if you’re watching a live sitcom show.

“You’re invited to breakfast too, y’know,” she laughed good-naturedly.

“Oh yeah. Sorry,” you muttered out a brief apology at that before making your way over to the empty seat between the two Millers.

For once, you hoped Sarah wasn’t observant enough to notice the way in which you had your eyes stuck to Mr. Miller’s face with every step that you took. He had the kind of face that stopped people in their tracks. You guessed he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a weak, embarrassed smile. It didn't help that he wasn’t so modest with it. You weren’t sure if you’re imagining things, but you swore his every movement held intention. What his intention was you couldn’t figure out just yet.

“So you’re in your third year of college?” He attempted small talk. You knew it was small talk, but the way he looked in your eyes with such grave intensity had you faltering.

“Yeah. I am.”

“Thought I’d bring a college gal in to bring good influence to this naughty daughter of mine,” he grinned. “She’s been slackin’ off as of lately.”

Sarah beamed him a petulant pout, in which he responded with a handsome smile. His dark brown hair bounced around seamlessly and for a second, just for a split second, he looked rather.. familiar. Was he an old neighbor of yours by chance?

“What d’ya major in?”

“Computer science. I know. Real nerdy, but I swear I’m not a nerd,” you explained before stuffing your mouth with a generous amount of scrambled eggs.

“I don’t know. You’re not all that believable,” Sarah teased. “Bet you read weird comic books for a hobby.”

You jutted out your lips playfully at her response, which earned a hearty set of snickers from your side. Mr. Miller was thoroughly amused by the banter you’ve played out in front of him and in response, blessed you with an array of gruff chuckles. One in which you swore you’ve heard before. The memory was right there on the back of your head, but you could barely reach out for it at the moment.

“Such a smart girl,” he spoke mindlessly.

It was the exact phrase that made your mind slot in the last piece of puzzle to what you’ve been searching for, a reason of why you think he was oddly familiar when you knew for a fact that he lived miles away from you. You weren’t hallucinating, nor were you delusional. 

You knew him.

Far better than you knew anyone else.

He was the man you’ve been watching every day of the week, whether in the depth of the evening or the early mornings. He was the exact man you’ve fantasized for years on end, stuffing your pussy with your fingers or even your toothbrush if you’re feeling adventurous to the thought of him ravaging you. You knew every part of his body, every beauty mark and calluses. You knew which things he liked the most, how he enjoyed being licked on his tip or how he enjoyed plunging into the very hilt. You knew the noises and praises he’d let out.

You knew him in the foulest manner possible.

“Are you okay?” Sarah’s voice brought you back into the real world. The world in which you’re sitting across your porn star crush, eating a good plate of breakfast as if everything is normal. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out the palpable tension.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

pls reblog n comment if u enjoyed this!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader

[meadowscarlet]

swimming pools ━━━ steve harrington.

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader.

summary: being alone in the swimming pool with steve harrington in the serene, dark night brought up intense feelings that blossomed into a steamy and passionate night.

warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, nipple play, praise kink, cursing, brief teasing, dirty talk if you squint, innocence kink, heavy making out, pet names like “baby” and “angel”, no specific timeline in st, mentions of sex, drinking and smoking.

author’s note: don’t judge me, this is my first time writing these kinds of fics and honestly it was a scary experience 😭 do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

With the exception of the moonlight reflected off the pool, the night was peaceful and tranquil and wholly empty. Teenagers were partying, drinking, making out, and swimming in the pool only a moment ago, creating a wild and amusing atmosphere that smelled of booze, smoke, and sex and setting the scene for a fierce night that went very smoothly.

Steve was currently having a euphoric high. The taste of alcohol still lingered on his tongue, reminding him of the ecstasy he had only a moment earlier, and he felt elated and fucking wasted from all the beers he had recently consumed. It had been awhile since he had great times with everything going on. He thought the crazy party was worth it, but he had a bleary feeling that the night hadn't ended yet.

When he turned around and looked, he found that you were the only person left in the area. Steve's mouth started to become dry. He remembered not letting his attention stray from you and your body while he was drinking and having a good time at the party because you were so distracting: your dress was tight, perfectly fitting to your curves as you moved your hips to the music with your friends. It would be an understatement to say that Steve was drooling at that.

You had always been the beloved and well-known pretty girl in Hawkins who was popular among the guys. There was one rumor where you were vindictive and spoiled and all the nasty shit people would throw at a girl living her teenage life but Steve knew it was all nonsense. Despite your notoriety as being popular, rich, and attractive, you were truly an actual angel and something sweet that made Steve eager to devour you. You were the one dream girl that everyone desired.

One thing he was pleased with, was that while you two were not close, you were also not complete strangers. Steve would reminisce how you'd pass by him in the school hallway with a delicate and divine grin that made him weak in the knees. Since you were always with your friends, your conversations together were short and simple. If not by your friends, Steve would observe how guys would approach you and ask you out on dates. To his greatest surprise, but mostly amusement, you never went out with any of them.

Steve had it bad, to put it mildly, with those ephemeral interactions and his eyes following you everywhere. Like everyone else, Steve Harrington was attracted to you, but he also felt a rush of feelings when your eyes, not for the first time in the night, locked with his. The night suddenly felt overbearingly dark, but when you smiled at him, fuck, he knew he was done for.

“Hi, Steve,” you giggled as you saw him openly staring at you.

Your eyes were bright and wide as you watched him. Steve knew he didn’t have to hide it anymore; so he let his gaze wandered around you, from your goddess of a face to your breathtaking body which was barely covered with the hot two piece you wore; your body completely exposed and Steve realized that it was only then you removed your cover up, when there was many people, you wore that dress and didn’t swim but now, you and him just alone, his gaze trailing every inch of you and you just let him.

You were studying him with bright, wide eyes. Steve realized he didn't need to hide it anymore, so he let his gaze observe you as it moved from your goddess-like face to your stunning body, which was barely covered by the two-piece bikini you were wearing. Steve realised that it was only then that you took off your cover-up dress; earlier, when there were many people present, you wore the dress and resisted to swim, but now, with just the two of you, he let his gaze follow every inch of you and you just let him.

Steve was going insane.

“Hey, angel,” he replied, voice husky. Then he suddenly frowned. “You’re not going home yet?” not that he wanted you to leave, it was just odd how all your friends went home and you were here.

Your eyes glinted with amusement. “You're not gonna let me join you?”

When Steve looked down, water was there to greet him. He didn't realize how long he had been in the pool until he was going on about you and staring at you. The words coming from your mouth were seductive and sweet, luring him. Before he could ponder how he managed to forget that he was actually in a pool, he instead concentrated on what you said. The night was cold and perhaps you could provide him some warmth.

After feeling a desire emerge within him, Steve didn't hesitate. “C’mere then,”

As you approached him, you sat on the edge of the pool and dipped your flawlessly gorgeous legs into the water rather than joining him in the pool as he had anticipated. Steve approached you when you were playing in the water with your legs, swimming so close that his chest was only an inch over your knees and he looked hypnotized. His pulse began to race as soon as he heard you take a tense breath since this was the closest he had ever been near you and you smelt like something he never wanted to forget.

“I thought you’re gonna join me,” Steve said almost breathlessly.

“Is it deep?”

“Wait, what?“

You laughed shakily. “The water. Is it deep?”

Steve placed a wet hand on your leg without thinking about it, and he nearly groaned as he felt you shiver, either from the water or his hand, but your chest was rising quickly, which can be very distracting.

“No, no, it’s not deep,” he responded, trailing his fingers along your legs, and you shuddered even more. Steve could see how your eyes were clouded by a phantom of want and he has no doubt his eyes darkened it too. “Enjoyed the party, did we, angel?”

When Steve's fingertips traced the insides of your thighs, you whimpered quietly, but your response was breathy and heavenly. “Kinda… my friends ditched me for their boyfriends.”

“People who would ditch you are out of their minds,” Steve muttered. “I can’t even imagine doing that.”

“Well, it’s just us,” you said quietly.

“Us,” Steve said, tasting the word in his mouth and it felt good saying it. “What do you think your friends and their boyfriends are doing now?”

You suddenly looked bashful; god you were adorable. “Having their own… fun.”

“And you’re not?” Steve murmured, now fiddling with the straps of your bikini underwear. “Seems unfair, doesn’t it, angel?”

You stuttered, “S–steve,”

“You like that, yeah?” Steve fought the impulse to totally grasp you and bring you close to him in the water. “Calling you angel?”

“I do,” you gasped.

“Well, what about, baby?” Steve’s eyes darkened with lust once he saw how you clamped your thighs together.

“God, Steve,” you breathed, Steve could practically hear your heart racing, mirroring his own.

Steve has both of his hands on your supple thighs at this point. “I haven’t even touched you properly, baby,” he whispered, he adored the way you shuddered with the name he called you. “A fun you deserve.”

You’re breathing hard now. “Then touch me, Steve.”

“Are you sure?”

You only nodded.

“Words, angel.” he whispered.

“Yes.” you replied breathlessly and that was all it took for Steve to finally taste you.

He kisses your lips hungrily, and his cock hardens hearing your muffled moan in his mouth. This was it; your taste was more divine than anything else, your lips were soft, and you fulfilled all of his fantasies. Your lower lip was bit by his teeth as he enjoyed how your chest crushed against his, sending both of your hearts racing.

Steve wanted to taste your lips more but your neck was beckoning for him so he moved to kiss your neck, placing his hands on your waist, pulling you to him as you automatically wrapped your legs around his waist. His tongue was licking your earlobe, whispering praises and assurances in your ear while you grow suddenly needy, moving against him, pressing your body impossibly closer together.

You clenched your teeth and whimpered softly as he bit and sucked the sweet spot on your neck. He pulled you deeper into the water, making you tighten your legs around his waist. “Steve!” you cried. “I'm wet.”

“Are you really?” he teased and suddenly his hand was cupping your clothed pussy, trailing his fingers on the clothed slit, his eyes never left your closed eyes and your pretty face.

“God, Steve,” you moaned, wanting him to end his teasing already.

“God’s not here, baby,” When his fingers finally made it to your clit, Steve sighed, pushing your bikini underwear down onto your thighs while still his finger trailed the slit, loving the way you moaned heavenly. “It’s just you and me, remember?”

“Have you ever done this?” he then asked as he paused before inserting a finger into your cunt.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, holding onto him tightly. “Not t—to anyone.”

“So, this hasn't been touched yet?” Steve groaned and swirled his finger deeper into your clit. You began to follow the insert of his finger and grind against it.

You moaned as he inserted another finger. “I have,”

Steve gave you a vociferous kiss on the neck and throat, leaving lovebites on your immaculate skin as the moonlight shone on you, leaving him speechless at your beauty. “Fuck, baby,” he said breathlessly. “I’m the first and I will be the last.”

Steve didn't even realize as his other hand, which wasn't inside you, moved to your back to untie your bra, which promptly fell into the water and left you now bare before him. Fuck, you were so exquisite. You grinded on his fingers in desperation, whimpering when he added a third one, and his back was scratched by your nails.

His lips moved to kiss your chest right away, then he licked his way to your right nipple; sucking and licking before doing the same with your left nipple. He was having a wonderful time with you as his fingers worked inside of you, and he was loving the way you were clenching against him.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Steve said, gently biting your nipple as his pace with his fingers inside your pussy was moving quick. “So good baby… you feel so good.”

As your climax approached, Steve paced his finger in and out of your pussy while you began to whine from your lovely lips, that tasted incredibly wonderful. Steve imagined how his dick would be instead of his fingers inside you, imagining it made him scorchingly desire you, but this isn't about pleasing him; it's about you, and he wasn't going to rush you. He felt like he was on cloud nine as he felt you tighten and clench all around his finger, urging you to come with just his fingers.

As soon as you came on his fingers, you shuddered, but the moan you let out was smothered when Steve gave you a full mouth kiss while his other finger pinched and stroked your nipples. You pulled him in closer with your arms around his neck and a passionate kiss that ignited your combined passion.

Steve slightly pivoted and gave you a look that was filled with admiration as he kissed you again on the forehead, the nose, and then the lips then moved the stray wet hairs away from your face. “Did you have fun, angel?” he whispered against your lips.

You responded, panting and beaming, “I did,” and when you added, “Only with I'm with you,” Steve's heart flipped.

#♡ — ani’s works. #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic

[riptozier]

hey everyone, happy (almost) 2024!! even though this blog hasn't existed for the entirety of 2023, this blog has still given me the opportunity to meet and get to know a lot of really amazing people in and outside of this fandom! we're small but we support each other, which i think is really important and meaningful in a community like this. before the new year hits, allow me to express my sincere thanks to all of those that have made my time on this blog so meaningful and fun! i'll be speaking for both this blog and for @ripkaspbrak since i don't wanna be redundant. although i've mentioned specific people here, i want to state i've enjoyed every interaction i've had with everyone i've ever gotten to interact with here this year!! thank you all so much for a great 2023, and i hope for so much more in 2024!!! ❤️❤️

@scribedhorror. skye, your bill is truly an honor to write with! he is very well-developed and honestly one of the best-written bills i've ever seen on this site. i've had a ton of fun discussing and building our muses' relationships and i can't wait for them all to have even more fun together in this new year!!

@eddiethekaspbrak. CARE you truly are the GOAT!!! your eddie really is everything that my richie has ever wanted and more, i've enjoyed literally each and every single one of our ic and ooc interactions, my richie truly fucking adores your eddie and would die for him. you truly are the sweetest and i can't wait for what 2024 has in store for us!!

@tczier. the og richie!!!! at least that's how i see you, merrick. you've truly been an inspiration to me in joining this fandom and every second my eddie spends with your richie the more attached to him he becomes. you've always made me laugh and seemingly know exactly what to say to make your richie ... richie. it's really inspiring to see your characterization of him and i hope we can have more of these wonderful shared moments in the next year!!

@diedbrave. if there's an eddie on this site that i love, it's strode's. i love how you take inspiration from all the canon material at once and manage to make the perfect characterization of eddie that the movies just don't do him justice with. it would be an understatement for me to say that my richie is fucking smitten with your eddie. i'm looking forward to them developing their relationship even more in 2024, and for more moments where richie can tease the hell out of eddie ;)

@spider-self. now THIS is truly one well-written IT. not only is IT's terrifying nature captured in your highly descriptive writing, but this interesting little relationship that IT has started to develop with richie ... it certainly is interesting, isn't it? i'd be lying if i said i didn't highly enjoy every second of that, though. everyone needs a bit of (sometimes hidden) toxicity in the things they write if they're open to it, i think. i look forward to developing them and doing even more creative things with them this new year!!

@myheartburnsthere. carrie!! your ben is honestly so ... ben?? like in the most perfect, yet most original way. so fucking lovely. he's still incredibly sweet, still kinda shy, exactly what richie likes in a man, if i must say so myself ;) i love how on and off they are with one another, in a sense that they're so open in an almost romantic fashion one moment yet so platonic in the next. and i fucking love it, but richie is starting to feel teased!!! as fun as it is, i look forward to seeing where they may or may not go with this in 2024!!

@rayofsunshinc. while i haven't had the opportunity to write with all of sara's muses, the ones i have written with (only richie & ben so far iirc) have been incredible and wonderfully entertaining!! richie honestly needs someone to just chill with, and in terms of my eddie ... he's really falling head over heels for your richie, if i'm being perfectly honest. it's been so fun and rewarding getting to write with you, and i hope to continue doing so in the new year!!!

HONORABLE MENTIONS . @painofhumanity @infernalrampage @gazebobullshit @multivcrsity @witchoflegends

#「 ✘ 」 » OUT OF CHARACTER. ⋮ ━━ ˗ˏˋ NOAH RAMBLES. ˎˊ˗

[keyboard-mang0]

Ok, I don't know where this idea came from, but I want it out of my head so now I'm making it everyone else's problem. Yall know the anime Zombieland Saga? To give a brief summary it is about an idol group made up entirely of the undead, specifically they are zombies, who disguise themselves as human in order to perform music. Its an amazing show and I truly cannot recommend it more highly, but that isn't the point right now!

What the point is is what if ya did something similar with a SAGAU? Could go either way of cult or imposter, but either is still funny.

• You have been living pretty comfortably in Mondstadt for some time, brought in by the allure of all that is entailed by the name "City of Freedom"

• The city already being home to one mysterious bard you decided on a differing route, the Adventure's Guild, to keep the mora coming in.

• While perhaps they found it odd how staunchly you refused to have anyone accompany you EVER, they couldn't argue that you clearly knew what you were doing since you would always get the job done and without a scratch on you!

• It was happenstance that started the decline, you were out doing your thing when I Mitachurl managed the blind-side you. Assuming you were alone you only groaned in annoyance as a massive axe neatly cleaved your head off of your shoulders.

• It wasn't until the shrill scream of Amber watching the incident that you realized you've been caught. So naturally, you let your body flop down as if you had died, waited for Amber to focus on the Hilichurls, and slowly crawled your way towards where your head landed and made your escape.

• Later sitting at Good Hunter with fresh stitches and a new layer of makeup to cover it, you were just enjoying your meal when Amber came stumbling back through the gates, looking more then just mildly traumatized. And then you made eye contact with eachother.

• Again she shrieked at the site of you, because she KNOWS she saw you get decapitated, and yet here you sit perfectly unharmed. This time she fients before she can properly convey that you are the reason why.

• Hiding away in your home you debate whether or not to consider the jig as up, and just start packing now. In that debate you praised any Archon that could hear you that when there came knocking on your door, you still had your make-up on.

• To say finding Eula glaring at you from beyond your door was frightening would be an understatement.

• You all but got dragged to the Knights of Favonius headquarters for questioning. Bwing met at the door with Kaeya's smirk, a visibly exhausted Jean, a barely conscious Lisa, and of course a terrified looking Amber.

• Apparently Amber had reported that you had died a grizzly death at the hands of Hilichurls, and yet there are dozens of accounts that you were perfectly fine less then an hour after Amber's reported time of death.

• You gave a silent apology to Amber as you pushed that it would be impossible for you to be able to sit here and answer these questions if you were dead. A point that they had no argument against.

• And so, a couple hours of questions and rewriting a report, and they let you go, but now a new problem arises, its started raining.

• In your tired daze, you didn't notice, not as your hair got soaked, and makeup began to drip and peel off of your skin.

• It was Lisa's alarmed noise that got your attention, and when you whirled around to look at her, the damage was done.

• The gathered knights watched in varying degrees of horror as what had appeared to be your skin suddenly flung off of your features in a goo-y mass. Leaving behind the palid grey-blue and green of your dead flesh.

• Amber even through her fear immediately saw the thick and messy sutchers that now held your head in place. As well as many other tracks of stitching that you've had to use in order to keep yourself in as few pieces as possible.

• Seconds are all you have to turn and run, that moment of hesitation upon seeing your true colors, literally, and the plethora of evidence that point to injures that by every account should have been fatal.

• A mad dash home, bar the door, lock the windows, and take these few precious seconds to try and pack as much as you can physically carry for your escape.

• In your panic you foolishly didn't listen that closely to what was happening outside of the rain. And so as you slung your heavy pack over your shoulder and ran out your door, you did so straight into the Acting Grandmaster's sword.

• And well... That's unfortunate.

• Jean had the closest view as you stared down at her sword buried in your chest, a drawn out quiet moment of the both of you staring at the impalment. And before she has the chance to pull it back out again, you've raised your hands up in exasperation, cause just COME ON, AS IF YOU DIDN'T ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH PROBLEMS!

• The shock of the situation was the main thing that stopped any of the multiple Knights and vision-barers from going near you as you began to pace back and forth in front of your house, Jean's sword still neatly secured inside your chest, as you shout into the rain about how you couldn't get a break anymore, how today has just been fiasco after fiasco.

• And by the end they all just had to wonder. What do you even DO with a person that can shrug off a beheading and treats being impaled as nothing more then an annoyance?

• And so you were permitted to stay in Mondstadt, under the circumstances that you have not been anything less then helpful since you arrived, and as long as you are careful about your disguise. The report of your death and the little show of your undead annoyance would be swept under the rug.

• Ahh, but if only there was a way to subtly silence that damned Bard that won't shut up about how he witnessed a Mondstadt citizen die a dozen deaths and yet still continues to live amongst them.

Ok, this was a stupid idea, poorly written on my phone in a rush to just write it down, thus the weird layout. But I hope yall enjoyed it anyway! I've not written in the headcannons format before, so this has certainly been interesting.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin sagau #zombie au #all mondstadt character's referenced

[thebardisabird]

I would like to thank @karamatsusquirrel for commissioning me and allowing me to bring such a very lovely prompt to life for her. She was sweet enough to allow me to post it here for you all to read. Researcher!Erin x Naga!Karamatsu, under the cut:

To say she had been counting down the days until this next trip was an understatement. Originally she was meant to only explore the area once; gathering photos of the local wildlife and a few carefully collected samples of plants to return back to her homebase site. It was referred to as the Akatsuka Wilds - an uninhabited, unexplored section of rainforest that many explorers knew little to nothing about. Rumor had it that each expedition there had left the active crew completely frightened and unable to finish the tasks at hand…and when questioned about it, refused to even speak on the matter. As a result, the Akatsuka Wilds remained an enigma to all. Erin had been researching with Professor Dekapan and his team for only a couple of years, a true asset in her willingness to assist in projects and her keen eye for spotting details undetectable to even some of her seniors. However, there was more she wanted to learn - and with her knowledge and experience thus far, she offered to take on a project no one else would: exploring the Akatsuka Wilds. There was heavy reluctance in Professor Dekapan at her request, but seeing her bright eyes and excitement for a challenge, he couldn’t say no. 

That’s how she began traversing the depths of the rainforest. She was properly armed with a flare gun, an emergency radio, and a machete as she made her way through the greenery on her own. Recollecting her first visit, the foliage seemed typical of what was expected: plenty of orchids, bromeliads, and even a few trees with pitcher plants. The animals nearby weren’t uncommon either: a flock of toucans, a tapir (with which Erin safely kept her distance), and quite a few red tree frogs. She had notes from previous trips that the area always seemed to bustle with life, sounds and smells captivating her senses at each expedition. A feeling she swore she would never get tired of. The young researcher smiled to herself, rereading some of her older entries in her logbook. When she returned from her very first voyage, there were questions galore: “What happened to you?” “Did you find anything new?” “Did you see the unspoken horrors that befell the other crews?”

Erin remembered the excitement in her voice, “Even better! I made contact with a Naga tribe!” 

It took Professor Dekapan a multitude of meetings to convince her cohorts to allow her to continue this expedition alone. Their curiosities were piqued - but seeing as how Erin had all of the proficiency and clear capability to hold her own in uncharted territory, she was made the sole researcher for the area. In her logs she’d made mention of accidentally running into a ‘large yellow snake-man hybrid’, a subdivision of mythical serpentine creatures that she would later find out were referred to as nagas. This specific naga had caught her off guard one day as she was uprooting a specimen of flora never seen before. Its movements were sudden, the noise of its slithering only catching her ears at the very last second. Erin remembered letting out a startled scream and ducking for cover upon sight of it, but nothing wound up actually happening. When she felt it safe to look up, she was face to face with the beast. An obtusely wide grin that held sharp fangs and large yellow eyes greeted her. “Ha…you didn’t run away or try to hurt me like the rest of them, you’re brave!” it exclaimed, pulling back from her slowly. She blinked, stunned by its sudden speech. Upon closer inspection, this creature not only had a long canary colored tail, but held the musculature and frame of a man from the navel and up. Seeing as how it distanced itself, Erin took this opportunity to spill the first question biting at her, “What…are you?” The snake-man tilted its head in thought before perking up with a more cheerful grin, “I’m Jyushimatsu! I’m a naga!” And thus was her first contact with the Nagamatsu tribe of the Akatsuka Wilds. Detailed in her logs were several instances of her visiting him since. She’d made a pact with her new naga friend - he would bring her plants or show her signs of wildlife specific only to the region, and she would bring artifacts, teach him skill sets, or bring him goods from the world outside. Under this agreement, Erin found herself learning so much about the tribe solely through Jyushimatsu - a relationship that allowed for her to expound her comprehension on a once mysterious terrain. She came to find the more she absorbed, the more she wanted to know if there were others like Jyushimatsu. When the question arose, she was met with, “Of course! Next time you come visit, I’ll introduce you to my nii-sans!” 

So here she was, back once more on a new expedition with the promise of new meetings. Jyushimatsu led Erin deeper than she’d scouted before, through moss covered grounds and low hanging leaves until finally they came to a halt in front of a large mass of mixed foliage. A simple, “ho!” and Jyushimatu’s tail had taken hold of a large branch, moving it out of his way and holding it at bay. He gestured for her to step through the pathway first; what sight befell her was breathtaking. Large reeded huts, each adorned with a specific splotch of color! There were several trees, molded and shaped almost like lounge chairs. The sheer craftsmanship of all of the surrounding homegoods was so spellbinding that she failed to see the other five nagas staring directly at her. “Oi! Everyone! Meet my friend, Erin! She’s a human!” he waved giddily, hurrying her along to approach them. It made sense why the huts were color-coded - so was each brother! “Oh! She’s cute! Good job, Jyushimatsu, you think she’ll let me kiss-” said the crimson naga, before promptly being smacked by the jade one. “Idiot! That’s not how you introduce yourself to anybody, let alone a human!” He turned to Erin, “Forgive Osomatsu-niisan, he’s incredibly stupid,” his hand came to his chest, “I’m Choromatsu, the one behind me is Ichimatsu” as he pointed to a violet colored naga that was carefully observing you at a distance. Popping up suddenly came a naga in a more fuschia tone, “I’m Todomatsu! You’re really pretty! And your hair reminds me of oatmeal,” he giggled (she would put a pin in that to ask him how he knew what oatmeal was later). Finally, the last brother, shaded a deep cerulean, slid up to her, taking her tinier hand in his clawed one, “Heh, not everyday a bipedal princess makes her way to our humble abode” he leaned forward to brush his lips against her knuckles, “You can call me Karamatsu.” His overly flirtatious greeting had her blushing, but she held her composure enough to return the pleasantry. Erin would find that they were actually a rather socialized bunch - aware of the world outside while also remaining untethered from it. Questions of her past, what she did ‘to survive’ and how she met Jyushimatsu of course all arose. She was thankful to be able to ask as much about them as she wanted in return. Nagas had the capability to hypnotize prey, could shapeshift, and even once had regular contact with human society before industrialism destroyed a mass amount of the forest. Erin felt her heart sink at that last bit, taking note of their saddened expressions and reminding herself to speak to Professor Dekapan about a possible conservationist/restorationist effort. She was given the opportunity to capture a few photos of the native avifauna with the help of the brothers, and even collected a few petals and stems of a new bioluminescent flower that grew nearby. In exchange, she brought them sweet rice cakes that she made herself as well as some colorful, ethically sourced geodes from her past geology trips. Before she knew it, sundown would come. “Ah, I promise I’ll be back real soon to visit again, okay?” she waved goodbye to the brothers. It would be Karamatsu this time that would lead her out. He was cautious of wildlife that awoke at dusk, and though she didn’t see it - his tail would form a loose surrounding barrier around her. She felt oddly safe around the second son, and he made her more relaxed through his pleasant conversation about his parents and the things he’s seen in his lifetime (nagas also had an impressively long lifespan!). When the time came for them to part ways, Erin found Karamatsu shielding his eyes. “Oh the goddess that is the sun…she truly pains me around this time of day.” The analyst reacted as if a lightbulb had gone off, reaching suddenly into her knapsack. “Here,” she offered, pressing an object into Karamatsu’s hand. He studied the thing, black and shaped angularly, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. There were questions swimming in his expression. “They’re called sunglasses,” she said through a bubbly smile, “They help dim sunlight so you can see better, you just have to put them on over your eyes.” Karamatsu seemed unsure of what to do despite her description, though this allowed Erin to gently take the sunglasses from him and carefully placed them on his face. He blinked once. Twice. Even a third time, until it finally dawned on him that she was right - the sun was a lot less harsh in his peripheral vision! “A marvel!” he exclaimed, hands holding onto the temples in curiosity, “I never knew my eyes could be shielded so easily from her daunting rays!” A soft laugh escaped Erin, “They make you look pretty cool too, Karamatsu.” His eyes grew wide with emotion, her comment going straight to his heart, “I look…cool?” She nodded, “A hundred percent. And feel free to keep them please, if it helps you see better with the sun out, I’m glad I could be of use to you.” Karamatsu shook his head vigorously, his words failing him as he felt sheer joy overcome him. Erin said her goodbyes for the evening, reiterating her promise to visit again soon. As she walked back to her vehicle, she felt a flutter followed by a pang in her chest from that interaction just then. Karamatsu, he decided, would never take the sunglasses off again.

Each visit she returned, Karamatsu found himself growing ever closer to her. She was unbelievably kind - not only to him, but to his brothers to boot. Jyushimatsu had told them all about her the first time they’d met - and he couldn’t lie, his interest was piqued when the younger brother mentioned she wasn’t violent or scared of him. Little did he know how truly brilliant she was. Sandy brown locks that framed her ever-smiling face; a voice that spoke of the joys of life and the importance of using knowledge to give back and protect the planet. But her eyes…oh those dazzling orbs were what drew him in the most. They weren’t quite as green as Choromatsu’s scales, but they reminded him of the lush earth that was his home. Yet when they hit the sunlight just right, he swore he saw flecks of his signature color in them. The good nature she carried and her ever intelligent mind took a python’s hold on him. She was a beauty all her own. Her visits, no matter how frequent, began to feel too short to the second eldest. Karamatsu struggled with not being able to see Erin on a daily basis like he wanted. When confronting himself with these thoughts and feelings, he was only able to recognize them as emotions his mother used to talk about often when referring to her marriage. It didn’t really hit him in full until her last visit, when his scales had begun to shimmer upon seeing her. At that moment, Karamatsu would make up his mind for their next meeting. He walked her down their normal route to exit the rainforest at first, with him thanking her for showing all of his brothers how to plant and care for a garden of tomatoes. “Ah, darling, if you’ll wait a second” he stopped suddenly, shifting his body to the right, “There was one thing I wanted to show you quickly before you headed off for the evening, if you’ll follow me.” He guided her off of the path - an interference that would make a lesser person nervous, but Erin trusted Karamatsu wholeheartedly, she knew he’d never bring her to harm. Curiosity wracked her brain however, “Where are we going, Kara?” His grin was unnoticeably bashful, but he slowly parted a covering of vines to show her just where they’d headed: a small lake, crystalline blue and surrounded by the same bioluminescent flowers she’d gathered months ago. Her gasp was audible, “Oh my goodness, is it safe to swim in? Karamatsu, this is beautiful!” As soon as he confirmed so, the need to dive right in overcame her, and she quickly removed her shoes, running to the bank and submerging herself up to her elbows in a minute’s time. “C’mon you silly snake, come in with me!” she giggled as she waved him over. He followed suit, his tail propelling him into the water with serpentine grace. He circled around her, their laughter being shared as he was splashed at as a moving target. Karamatsu felt his scales shimmer again, the overwhelming need to hold her close to him settling in while his buoyant tail reflected the sunlight in gorgeous golden hues. Erin marveled at the sight, “I didn’t know you could do that! Is that an aquatic response?” 

Delighted in her amazement, Karamatsu forgot himself, “Not quite, dear Erin, it’s a courting resp-” and his voice caught in his throat when he realized what he was saying. The terror that plagued him was indescribable, his heart thrashing in his chest. He didn’t plan on telling her so soon. Erin looked up at him with softened doe eyes, “Karamatsu…?” The blue naga swallowed thickly. “I-It’s a courting response…” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere but her face now, “I…I-I like you, Erin.” It was silent for a moment. Karamatsu snapped his eyes shut, unable to face any potential rejection she gave him…only to feel the gentle touch of hands on his face. A question posed at his lips, but they would die on the pair that silenced them. Erin draped her arms around his neck, leaning into the kiss a bit more. Karamatsu instinctively encased his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer. His tongue flitted into her mouth, wrapping around her own in a playful manner. A clawed hand tangled itself in her hair, before finally pulling himself from her lips. “Erin, I…” Karamatsu paused, feeling unsure of what to say. With warmth and adoration tucked in her voice, Erin filled the silence, “I knew what I felt for you was different, Karamatsu…I’m so happy that you feel the same.” “I had no idea…” came his subdued response. Her smile turned to a playful smirk, “I wasn’t exactly subtle about it, Karamatsu…” and her fingers tapped his sunglasses. Flushed at her words, Karamatsu drew her in for a warm embrace. His chin slotted onto her shoulder blade, he whispered, “You were wrong, my flower, it’s I that should be happy you feel the same about me.” Erin pressed her hands firmly into his back, her head leaning on his shoulder, a wave of tenderness blanketing her. For learning so much as she had about nagas, she knew had far more to wonder about their courtship practices. But this discovery, she was thrilled to uncover, was one she would lovingly explore with the very blue naga that shared her affections. 

#ososan #osomatsu san #karamatsu #karamatsu matsuno #naga!karamatsu #naga karamatsu #naga au #nagamatsu #karamatsu x self-insert #self-insert #ososan imagines #osomatsu san imagines #ososan fanfiction #osomatsu san fanfiction #commission

[wc-wild-rewrite]

whats the history of the clans? did thunderstar, shadowstar, etc still found them?

Great question, my friend. The full history of all of them in one post would be a lot, so, for now, lets just cover Thunderclan

The Mythology

As most cultures do, Thunderclan has various myths and oral stories passed down through generations telling how the clans came to be. Thunderclan, specifically, is said to have been formed initially as Lionclan.

Now, a bit of actual real world history here, New Forest National Park- the southern english place that the forest territories are based off of- were originally the homeland of early Anglo-Saxon tribal groups, but it was then proclaimed a royal forest by William the Conquerer in 1079, first recorded being called Nova Foresta in 1086. It only actually became a site of scientific interest in 1971, becoming a National Park in 2005.

All that to say, it's been around for a long damn time. And the cats know of this, they don't have a concept of human years, but they say Lionclan was around 'before Starclan', meaning Lionclan predates their current concept of modern cat ancestors.

In their mythos, Lionclan was a proud, strong clan of massive, mane-bearing cats that hunted in groups and had a singular leader, with a roar capable of being heard by every other clan, no matter where they were. They hunted large prey, like deer and boar, on their own, something that a modern cat thunderclan cat can only take down with the help of an entire patrol.

It's an understatement to say Thunderclan is still a proud clan, and they take much, much pride in occasionally still looking like the Lions that they came from. Lionheart, Sunstar, Cricketsun, and Lionblaze are the best examples of this.

According to their stories, however, Lionclan eventually grew smaller in size, as twolegs moved in more heavily than before, and the large prey they hunted became more and more scarce, being hunted by twolegs instead. This is what they consider to be the beginning of 'Thunderclan' and the Modern Cats.

(Dawn Of The Clans as an arc did not happen. I refuse to acknowledge it as a canonical part of this story, so im making up my own.)

They called the founder of Thunderclan 'Thunderstar' not because it was his name, but because of the lightning-shaped scar across his face, a mark of his survival against a massive beast. He was said to be cat-sized but distinctly Lion in appearance, and led his clan well, despite a series of tragedies that led to his early leadership.

When he died sacrificing his life for his clan, they created the Thunderclan Sigil- the cat outline with the lightning bolt- in honor of him. He still exists in Starclan, as his clan remembers him fondly. It is rumored that Sunstar was the last descendant of Thunderstar, though of course nobody can confirm that.

The True History

Now, we get to the truth of the matter. Lionclan, very simply, did not exist. The most truth to it is likely a group of zoo or perhaps circus lions escaped a long time ago, and oral tale of the nearby housecats became fantastical after so long.

The Prophecy Begins is set somewhere around 2009, i'd say. The clans were founded probably at the turn of the century, in 1900 or just before. Long enough that it seems ancient to clan cats, but not nearly old compared to literally any human civilization.

Thunderstar was not a 'small lion', but instead a Maine Coon. The Clans were not, in fact, descended from big cats at all, but instead the result of kittypets escaping their owners and becoming feral.

In fact, Thunderstar was not his name whatsoever. His scar was true, though, he did have a lightning-shaped scar across his face, but it was caused by a fox, not some mysterious beast. His true name has been lost to time, but he was not, at any point, called the suffix '-star', as the use of 'star' to designate the leader didn't happen until about 2 leaders later.

He was Thunder's Rule, King of Thunderclan. A King who's bloodline continued ruling until his grandson stepped down and put in the deputy and -star concepts.

It is true that Sunstar is a very distant descendant of him, but his bloodline survived, through Featherwhisker. The medicine cat who got away with breaking code, by having a daughter. Willowpelt and her lineage are the last line of Thunderstar, though i haven't decided wether that gets lost to time or Jayfeather manages to figure it out during his ghost walks. Either way, as of Arc 7, the most recent Thunderkin are Greykit, Bristlekit, and Stemkit.

Thunderstar is still very much alive and well in Starclan, though he keeps to the edges of the territory because he's still salty he lost his bloodline's "right" to the leadership of thunderclan. If he could contact his relatives, he'd be hounding them to get the title back. And it might even work, but the rest of the leaders since his reign stop him from trying.

Unfortunately, his kits and grandson have been forgotten and faded out of starclan, as the 'rulers to star' distinction was never made in their mythos.

In terms of how well he ruled... well, his clan thrived, that was for sure. Unfortunately that was because of the sneaky, tricking ways he fought his wars, and the fact he might have commited a regicide or two to keep 'unhelpful' people out of his way. But Thunderclan doesn't remember that part, they only care about the fact he 'led his clan to success', no matter how much bloodshed was caused by it.

#warrior cats #wc #wc rewrite #warrior cats rewrite #warrior cat rewrite #thunderclan #thunder's rule #all of this is up to change if i feel like it

[starry-mist]

Oh hi. Welcome to my blog.

If you've been following me for more than five minutes, you'll know most of this already, but since there are some new folks, let me introduce myself and what you will/will not find here.

I'm a big (probably an understatement) Hudson & Rex fan. Specifically, I'm a huge Sarah Truong fan and probably one of the OG Charah shippers, but I love all of it. The cast, the scenery, the stories. That being said: I am critical of shit the show does that I dislike, or (more often than not) things that I find particularly problematic. I firmly believe in being appropriately critical of the media I consume (h/t to @farfarawaygirl for the creation of my absolute favourite tag), and it's not always going to be sunshine and roses here. I don't do toxic positivity. If you're looking for "OMG Charah are forever perfection and these characters can do no wrong ever," look elsewhere. I don't do character hero worship. Characters have flaws. They'd be boring AF if they didn't. For example, if you were here for my H&R season 4 journey, which also included a bit of a mental breakdown, you know I will just as easily criticise my faves when they're being...not great...in the same breath as I will gush about how much I love them. I try to keep it real.

Occasionally I reblog stuff from other fandoms, but I have a tendency not to use tags for ships/fandoms that get...shall we say, a little *heated* from time to time (IYKYK.)

I'm "fandom old." AKA I was probably reading/writing fic before many of you were born. Why is this relevant? Because I'm not an "I write fic for engagement and kudos and whatnot" person, I'm more "I write fic because I enjoy exploring characters, and sometimes I'll share it on AO3." Basically: I'm probably way too old for this site, and I'm definitely too old to care about things like clout, or being "fandom famous" or infamous, or whatever the kids are into these days. I write because I want to. I don't engage with "you must interact with creations in this specific way or else you suck" takes. I get that there are people who take that stuff very seriously, and that's cool, you do you.

I write smut. If you can't deal with that, don't read it. I'm not going to apologize for including sex scenes in many of my fics. Tags and ratings exist for a reason, and I will always use them appropriately to ensure readers know what they're getting into.

If you know who I am on other social media, no you don't. Seriously. I keep my fandom life separate from my real life for a reason. Please respect that.

I love engaging in lively debate. I don't block often (unless you're a pornbot, which, if so, GO AWAY.) If I do, it's to protect my peace. If you block me, I assume it's for the same reason, and wish you well, or whatever.

I don't do fandom gatekeeping. It's weird. People engage with different media for different reasons, and expect different things from it, and that's okay.

Anyway. Just felt like putting that out there, in case people are in any way wondering where I'm coming from when I post certain takes, or reblog certain things. Thanks for reading.

#starry rants #fandom things #fanfic things #hudson & rex #be critical of the media you consume

[calebscalamity]

So... the critic scores for the Mario movie are finally coming out, and to say that there's been a less-than-favorable response would be an understatement. Usually don't delve too deeply into topics like this, but with all the misinformed takes going around I think I gotta throw my own hat into the ring, ya know? Before we start the match, Obligatory disclaimer that ya'll are entitled to your own opinions regarding the Mario movie and don't have to engage with every criticism thrown its way, nor should you. Don't let what some random internet stranger says online deter your enjoyment of the film and whatnot. With that being said, some misconceptions definitely do need to be cleared up.

Starting off small, it seems like a lot of people don't actually understand how sites like Rotten Tomatoes work. They'll pull up critic reviews from other media seen as bad by the vast majority as evidence that the critics don't know what they're talking about, but it's not so black and white. RT works as a reference site for viewing different critic reviews. They add up different assessments from multiple professional critics on a specific movie and spit out a general percentage of the amount that rated it positively vs negatively. When RT says a movie got a 53% rating, what they really mean is that only 53% of the critics who reviewed it rated it positively. It's never the exact same people reviewing different movies, which is likely where the disparity comes from. Jumping off of the critics themselves, the arguing points many of them bring up regarding the flaws of the film are met with plenty of scrutiny from others. I've seen a lot of backlash and mockery over the flaws that they do mention. However, looking at some of the reviews myself, I don't think a lot of them were being too unreasonable, and they're likely just the result of them having different expectations as critics. For example, the most commonly cited critique I saw was the overall plot of the movie. The general consensus seemed to be that they found the story to be far too formulaic and uninteresting to have any significant appeal, and that most of the entertainment came from the abundance of easter eggs and game references found throughout the film. While this on its own has incited a lot of backlash from fans of the movie, I think the enjoyment factor from critics vs audiences is an overall interesting talking point that I unfortunately don't see spoken about much. At the end of the day, this is a film targeted towards children and fans of the Mario series. While that's not necessarily a bad thing depending on who you ask, it does have potential repercussions on how people outside that demographic will react to it. I'm sure the two groups I mentioned before will probably have a blast with this movie and see it as a pretty great outing, but would a person who isn't familiar with the games or isn't even a gamer feel the same way? I mean, I've dabbled with a few Mario games from time to time and did enjoy them, but I don't really hold any significant attachment to the franchise in general, and it doesn't seem like I'd gain a whole lot from this movie as a result.

Comparing it to the Sonic Movies, while I did indeed naturally enjoy the first two films as a fan of the Sonic games, I can also acknowledge that I personally find the story on its own to be well-structured and easy for others to follow regardless of their relationship with the Blue Blur. This movie in contrast is likely made especially for the fans to enjoy. As a Mario movie? It's probably a solid outing and a delight for the people within that fanbase. But as a movie on its own merits? That seems to be what a lot of the critics are judging it as and many of them aren't finding much substance within it.

And I know that people will come in saying that I shouldn't be expecting some super deep story from the Mario series and that the games are known for having simplistic stories, but that's precisely the problem. You can usually excuse a bare-bones plot in a video game because most people are there for the actual gameplay, the story is just a nice bonus. But when it comes to such a radically different medium like film work, you can't get away with having a non-existent story in such a way, and there needs to be a tight structure of some sort to garner people's interest. Furthermore, I also don't think we should be overlooking these critiques with defenses such as the source material or younger audience. Something being made for kids shouldn't be an excuse to not try, and I feel like the best kids media are the ones that don't talk down to children and feature genuinely good writing in their stories that other demographics can naturally also come to enjoy simply because it's good writing. The Lego Movie and Puss in Boots were also marketed toward children, but they both also had good writing that many other demographics were able to appreciate. Like I said before, I don't think the Mario movie primarily being aimed at fans of the franchise is necessarily a bad thing, but it can certainly leave a lot to be desired for someone who might want the movie to be able to stand on its own detached from the source material.

All in all, I feel like people are massively misinterpreting information and the job of critics in general when it comes to debates such as these. I won't deny that critic scores alone shouldn't be your only indicator of quality when it comes to media like video games and movies (The aforementioned Sonic movies are sitting in the mid to high 60s on RT, but lots of others hold them in high regard), but I think it is worth analyzing their problems with said media and how that might impact your overall enjoyment. Let's just try not to see things so black and white all the time. To anyone planning on seeing the Mario movie, I hope you guy's have a great time and fully enjoy yourselves!

#calebsramblings #mario movie #mario #super mario #mario bros movie #nintendo #movie critic

[rijallaw]

Methods An F1 Visa Reinstatement Lawyer Uses To State Your Case

Have you been looking to reinstate your F1 student visa but aren’t sure about who to turn to? Here at the Rijal Law Firm, we have helped many international students to be able to study in America. Moreover, we’ve also been able to help them to maintain their status as well. An F1 visa reinstatement lawyer from our firm can help in a variety of ways.

Enlisting the expertise of an experienced attorney can significantly streamline the visa application process and provide invaluable assistance along the way.

Documentation Assistance To say there that the necessary documentation for an F1 visa may be onerous can be a bit of an understatement. We can help you to both complete your documentation correctly as well as to gather the required supporting documentation.

A lawyer can be instrumental in assisting you in assembling all the necessary paperwork, ensuring that your application is comprehensive and meets the standards set by immigration authorities.

Filling out visa application paperwork is not for the faint of heart. The minutiae of the process can be overwhelming, and a small error can have significant consequences. A student visa attorney can take this burden off your shoulders, ensuring that all the forms are accurately completed, and minimizing the chances of delays or rejections.

Support Every Step Of The Way Having an immigration attorney by your side means you have a seasoned representative to navigate the bureaucratic intricacies for you. It’s like having a guide in an unfamiliar terrain, ensuring you’re on the right path.

For example, an interview is generally required for visa applicants (with some limited exceptions). When it comes to this interview, feeling a bit nervous is only natural.

However, an experienced attorney from our firm can prepare you for this, providing insights into the types of questions you might face and coaching you on how to respond. This preparation can boost your confidence and increase the likelihood of a successful interview.

Keeping You In The Loop Immigration laws can be complex, and navigating them without proper guidance can be challenging. A student visa attorney can break down these laws for you, providing clarity on how they pertain to your specific situation. This understanding can be empowering, giving you a sense of control and confidence as you navigate the entire student visa application process.

Having an immigration attorney in your corner not only provides assistance with the immediate tasks at hand but also ensures that you are well informed about the broader legal landscape.

An F1 Visa Reinstatement Lawyer For You When it comes to your education and your future, give yourself the best chance to succeed. That’s where we can help.

If you find yourself in need of expert guidance during the student visa application process, consider scheduling a free consultation with our law office. Our experienced attorneys are ready to provide the assistance you require to navigate this crucial phase of your journey.

You can reach us through our site or by giving us a call.

[ianpolh]

Boolean search tools

BOOLEAN SEARCH TOOLS HOW TO

BOOLEAN SEARCH TOOLS FULL

BOOLEAN SEARCH TOOLS DOWNLOAD

It means, any excessive keywords will be excluded from your search, and you won’t see the results connected to them. One thing you need to consider while searching on Google is that there’s a limit of 32 words only. Site: nl./in/ (“full stack” OR fullstack OR “full-stack”) AND (Amsterdam OR Randstad)

BOOLEAN SEARCH TOOLS FULL

This will look for profiles only within profiles within a specific country, in this case, the Netherlands.Įxample of finding a full stack developer in the area of Amsterdam: Bonus: narrow the search by specifying the country in the LinkedIn URL, e.g.Follow up with the keywords to refine your search.To do this type of search, follow these steps: In this case, be sure to use the command “site:”. This part comes in handy when you don’t have a recruiter seat on Linkedin, but you’d like to create a more complex search to narrow down your results.

BOOLEAN SEARCH TOOLS HOW TO

It’s extremely useful to know how to formulate your search to look through specific websites/ databases. These are methods that help me find quality candidates in no time. Now that you know the basics of X-Ray search, let me share with you my five tips and tricks that will make building your Boolean string easier.

BOOLEAN SEARCH TOOLS DOWNLOAD

If you want to step up your game, download this great cheat sheet that our talent hacker, Paloma did: “chief * officer” when looking for a candidate who holds a C-level positionįrom my experience, those six operators and modifiers are the most important for beginners, and will soon become your best friends while sourcing. You can also include it in the middle of a phrase to fill in the gaps, e.g. You can use it at the end of a keyword you’re looking for to expand your search with similar terms (doesn’t work on Google though).

Asterisk * - this is a “wild card” modifier.

Quotations “” - you need quotations to look for the exact phrase, only used for more than one word.

Brackets () - makes it easy to give priority to a search and segregate it in groups.

NOT - enables you to exclude keywords that you don’t want to see in your search results (replaced with “-” in Google search)īoolean modifiers can help you find more quality results, by expanding and refining your search.

OR - helps you get results that have either one of the keywords entered.

AND - lets you find 2 keywords at the same time on one page.

What are Boolean operators and search modifiers?īoolean operators are short words used to connect or exclude certain search terms. Who else has been craving ramen during lockdown? I’ve even found myself looking for a takeaway the other day. The most common use of Boolean search for me is to find CVs and Linkedin profiles, but it honestly helps you find anything you need. It allows you to translate your hiring manager's requirements to a limited search that brings up relevant candidates. To put it simply, it’s a process that can help you search through different databases. If the terms “Boolean search” or “X-Ray search” are entirely new to you, you are exactly where I was a year ago. Hopefully, they will help you out whether you are a beginner, or a person looking to refresh their knowledge. In this post, I will share with you 5 tips that helped me source for excellent candidates. Since then, I have picked up some useful methods that are making my searches faster and more accurate. Saying it’s been helpful would be an understatement. I began sourcing with Boolean very recently when starting my job as a Recruiter at LevelUp Ventures. Let me ask you this: since you’ve learned about Boolean, how often have you gone back to it to sharpen your skills? It’s our holy grail for finding the right talent and narrowing down a list of thousands of candidates to our hiring manager’s requirements. If you are a recruiter, you probably know what a Boolean search is.

#Boolean search tools

[connectpiner]

New gawker

New gawker driver#

New gawker professional#

I had to get screamed at by a Broadway producer as his right-hand for another year. I had to get screamed at by a literary agent for two years as an assistant. I had to get fired from a job bussing tables at Schiller’s (I heard bloggers hung out there, so). I was wildly intimidated by the city, and paralyzed with fear that I’d totally fucked up a comfortable collegiate life and alienated my family and a few close friends for no good reason. Of course, it took me another three years and change once I moved before I wrote for the site. On the other, how could it not end like this? The instruction I got before taking over for the weekend: "You’ve got the keys, bring 'er back full" On the one hand, there’s no possible way any of us could’ve imagined this fate. Gawker lost the farm doing the very thing it was designed to do: Show the powerful for what they are, which in this case, is petty, vindictive, and another angry gossip subject who didn’t like what was printed about them, mostly because it was true. To say it’s depressing would be a vast and pathetic understatement, and that goes without mentioning the people who work on the site right now, who are going to be either given new jobs, or forced to find them.

New gawker professional#

, soon to be under the ownership of Univision, will be shut down, after being sold in a bankruptcy auction along with the rest of the Gawker Media portfolio, as a result of a professional wrestler and reality star winning a kangaroo court trial, backed by a billionaire with a grudge to push. It was also the sound of a voice telling me to get my ass to New York, and to get to work.Īnd now, that’s all over. Because behind that voice, it was pretty evident, were a bunch of people just making this shit up as they went along. Which, really, was just perfect and hilarious to me. Those people, who were so regularly infuriated by Gawker, also clearly couldn’t stop reading and listening to that voice. The sound was crystal clear - that of mischief, a love of writing, a love of city life, a misfit community upending and infuriating the entire media business, celebrity culture, upper-crust culture, "cool" culture, and anything else in New York that took itself too seriously. It was insular, self-referential, and too smart for its own good. Gawker was funny, abrasive, and filled with voice. Gawker lost the farm doing the very thing it was designed to do And while I wouldn’t go as far to say I dropped out of college because of Gawker, it certainly helped me realize I was wasting time being there. I was running the arts coverage for a college newspaper at my state school and not having fun, and that looked, above all, like fun. It also made me feel like I was missing out on something important. These people all seemed to know each other, and share the same understanding of the city’s unspoken young professionals’ mores, and all somehow had a line that was better, smarter, and more on-the-nose than the one that came before it.Īnd this "blogging" thing they were all doing was wildly unhinged, experimental, impractical, and, according to any of mainstream publishing and journalism’s practitioners of the moment, kind of sacrilegious. It was surprisingly edgy, surprisingly highbrow, and unsurprisingly disdainful of the middlebrow. In other words, it was coded specifically to the young and smartassed of New York City, and the way they lived in it. But up until that point, it was a conversation made in concert with a distinct subset of people (other "bloggers," and a network of tipsters) with high-caliber wit and personalities either too dysfunctional or too bored or generally lacking in the kind of pedigree required to fit in working in finance or, to only a slightly lesser extent, that era’s Conde Nast. The site, which at that point had been around for almost three and a half years, didn’t introduce comments until September 23, 2005. The Gawker of that era felt like independent FM ’90s radio - a conversation through a two-way signal, and at that time it ostensibly wasn’t, at least, not literally.

New gawker driver#

And they had some mysterious boss casually referenced as a bigheaded British imperialist slave driver overlord. Editorial operations were overseen by this other blogger guy, Lockhart Steele. This Andrew Krucoff guy ran some mysteriously combative, cabal-blog called Young Manhattanite he was Gawker’s "mascot," and the first true career casualty of (who was also, hilariously, the guy they called when everyone else was too hungover to report to work). In 2005, the site was helmed by Jessica Coen and Jesse Oxfeld. Little confession: I dropped out of college and moved to New York because I wanted to write for.

#New gawker

[tingukseo]

Start Out Your Advertising Career With These Job Profiles

To say that advertising is a profitable career is an understatement. If you're looking for a job at marketing agencies London, the first thing you should ask yourself is, "What kind of work do you enjoy?" Many people join mainline and quickly become dissatisfied with the slow pace of the workplace environment. Others enter the world of online technology only to be overwhelmed by its energy, speed, and unpredictable structure. We've got your back. Here are a few positions to consider if you're just beginning out in the advertising industry.

Junior Account Executive - Account managers are frequently misunderstood and considered glorified client service representatives. An account manager, on the other hand, is responsible for directing and guiding the complete ad team that works on a specific account at the right firm with a solid structure. They are the brand's stewards, and even a junior executive can deal directly with a company as well as all of the agency's stakeholders.

Junior Account Strategist - Whereas the two positions may sound similar, the roles of an account planner and an account manager are vastly different. An excellent planner is responsible for the brand's vision and looks out for new and creative ways to connect to audiences. They're in charge of figuring out the brand's strategy and putting together a suitable brief for the writing staff.

Junior Writer - A copywriter drives the brand's creative vision, and thanks to programmes like Mad Men, it's probably one of the most attractive professions at a digital marketing company. Even a novice copywriter is frequently entrusted with the task of writing amusing copy lines that could end up on hoardings, newspaper commercials, television ads, and other places. They may watch their ideas come alive on packaging design labels at a branding agency, and with the correct mentorship, they can quickly progress through the ranks.

Social media manager - Most newbies are already familiar with social networking platforms and the kind of material that perform well there. Any online design company will gladly recruit a beginner if they demonstrate a knack for curating and delivering engaging content. Even your own social media profile might be a highlight for your work in this industry. All you get is a passion for social media sites and the power to make rapid, engaging material that engages your audience. Many new social media executives these days work on their own accounts for a few years before seeking for jobs in the industry.

Not sure where you'd be most comfortable? There's now an argument to be made for running the chance and following the path that interests you the most. Unlike other industries, switching careers is frequently simple, and many writers, account strategists, and managers began their careers in completely different capacities. Finally, no matter wherever you end up, you'll need a thorough understanding of how agencies operate, and switching paths might just give you that edge. However, when joining any of the organisations, make sure you do your homework. Many companies are not welcoming to newer, more inexperienced talent, and as a result, they are frequently exploited and wasted. You should look for a location that encourages creativity.

Finding internet evaluations and discussion panels is an excellent technique to find the proper agency. Employees anonymously publish feedback on certain websites that review workplaces. Of course, you should avoid being persuaded by skewed industry rumours and instead seek advice from credible sources before reaching a choice. Even if you are thinking of joining a website design company, find a place that can offer what you need from a long-term career perspective as well.

#marketing agencies London #website design company

[djjarins]

it only takes a moment (modern! maxwell lord x f! reader - only one bed!)

modern! maxwell lord x f! reader ft. only one bed!

summary: after a planned trip goes awry, what happens when you, Alistair’s nanny, and max only have one bed to share?

warnings: mentions of drinking and sex (no smut in this work), mentions of bad weather and turbulence on a plane, anxiety

a/n: this is my first maxwell oneshot!! thank you to the anon who suggested it! my masterlist is here and my requests are open! also this is not beta read - we die like men KSJDHAKKS

To say this was one of the longest days ever would be an understatement.

Your day started like any other. Waking up around 6:15am, you quietly pad into your bathroom and wash your face, taking a few minutes to complete your skincare routine and brush your teeth before making your way back into your bedroom.

Going over to your desk, you pick up your outfit you laid out the night before, a comfortable pair of leggings and an oversized crew neck with the name of the college you went to on it.

You hold the wooly sweatshirt in your hands, a smile tugging at your lips at the memories of your time back on campus. While it’s been less than a year since you graduated, you still hold the memories close.

One memory in particular plays on a loop in your head.

It was last May. You were sat in a back booth with some friends of your favorite bar in the city.

You were celebrating the new job you had just been hired at - as a full-time nanny for a single father with a young boy.

It was no secret that you had struggled finding a job after graduation. You had put in a lot of work at your time here at school, but you felt a pit of sadness in your heart at graduation when all of your friends had already secured jobs and a future for themselves.

You felt the sadness when you didn’t know how you were going to make ends meet - you had student loans, bills and other things piling more and more stress on - but when you found an ad for a nanny job, you were over the moon.

After your interview with the assistant to the single father, who must be very busy or important if he has an assistant, you were thrilled when you got the news you were hired.

The assistant explained her boss was a high-profile man, and that he wanted to be the one to introduce himself to you, which you had no problem with. You also would be a live in nanny, meaning you would have your own space within the house.

With the job starting tomorrow, your friends decided tonight would be the night to celebrate, wanting to “send you off” with one last night out before your job started.

A couple of rounds of drinks in, you felt a sudden burst of energy - whether it be a real energy boost or the tension leaving your body from the numerous drinks you’ve had throughout the night - but suddenly you make your way over to the makeshift dance floor.

You feel the beat of the music flow through you as your friends come and dance with you for a while, losing track of time in the small bar as the night goes on. It’s after several more songs that you feel a set of big hands rest gently on your hips and a strong, yet comforting scent of cologne filling your nose.

“I hope you don’t mind me being a bit forward angel, but I couldn’t help but notice you from across the bar, and I have to say you are absolutely gorgeous,” the man says confidently, his fingers rubbing a soft pattern into the flesh of your hips.

You turn your head to the side to lock eyes with the handsome stranger, his brown eyes like swirls of chocolate and honey reflect the colorful lights of the bar back into your own.

A smile plays at his lips as you take in his styled appearance, his clothes fitting him in all of the right places, almost like they were made just for him.

“You see something you like darling?” he asks soothingly, the smile on his face morphing to a playful smirk as you nod back at him faster than you can say something.

He lets out a hearty chuckle and gives one of your hips a squeeze as he presses his front firmly up against your back, a small gasp leaving your lips as you feel how he is pressed against your ass, and you have to stop yourself from arching into his chest.

“Let’s get out of here,” you whimper, feeling the room get hotter as he stays close to your body, wanting to get some privacy with him before you drop to your knees right here on the sticky floor of the bar.

He nods along with your suggestion, gently grasping your hand in his and leading you to an awaiting taxi.

A shiver runs down your spine at the memory of that night. The more your mind lingers on that night, you swear you can almost feel him back between your legs and hear the whimpers of praise in your ear.

But of course that once in a lifetime high from your hookup turned into a nightmare the next day, when you realized that the gorgeous man next to you was not only the famous Maxwell Lord, but that he is the man you were to work under as a nanny.

Sure it was awkward when you came back to Max's house in the morning after sneaking out a few hours earlier, preteding that the two of you didn't have mindblowing sex the night before, instead opting to focus on the specifics of the job. 

Max explained that he was a very busy man - something you already knew - and that he really appreciates what you are doing for him and Alistair, and that he knows his son will love spending time with you.

That was a year ago.

Now the tension had gone down significantly, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you still didn't think about Max in the way you did that night with him. There were times when you caught him staring at you from across the room, feeling his eyes on you as you played with his son, a smile tugging at his lips.

There were nights where you laid lonely in your bedroom, wondering what would happen if you went down the hall to the master bedroom and joined your boss, but you stopped yourself from picturing what could happen.

You slip on your sweatshirt, brush out and twist your hair, opting to put it in one of you claw clips, a few stray pieces framing your face in all of the right ways.

Making your way out of your room you head down the hallway to Alistair’s room, knocking lightly before peeking your head in and letting him know it’s time to start waking up.

Today was a travel day.

Max was attending a conference down in DC and decided to bring you and Alistair along so he could spend some time with his son, as well as turn this little trip into a mini vacation. He planned on visiting several museums that he knows Ali will love, like the natural history museum and air and space museum, but also the national gallery of art for you as well.

He didn’t tell you he rented out the museum so it would be just the three of you. He wanted that to be a surprise.

You grab your small duffel bag for travel and make your way down the grand staircase, placing the bag near the front door as you head to the kitchen, starting to grab the ingredients to make belgian waffles - Alistair’s favorite.

Turning on the coffee pot, you hum to yourself as you mix the ingredients together to make breakfast, making sure to lay out three plates. As you pour the batter into the waffle maker, you make quick work of cutting up some fresh strawberries to serve on the side.

Hearing two pairs of footsteps coming down the stairs, as well as an accompanying giggle, you turn to see Max chasing Alistair through the foyer and towards the kitchen island, with Max laughing as he picks up his son and plops him down onto the barstool in front of him.

A smile pulls at your lips as you slide Max a mug of coffee, getting a nod of appreciation in return before he helps you plate up breakfast, encouraging his son to eat up so you all can get going.

Max had arranged for one of his private planes to fly the three of you out, telling you it would be much more relaxing than taking a normal flight, to which you rolled your eyes.

No matter how long you had been working for Max, you still aren’t used to how causal he is with spending his wealth. Especially when it came to you.

It was no secret Max had a sweet spot for you.

How could he not? It wasn’t all about that first night - sure he still thinks about it when he’s alone - but it’s about all of you. He loves the way that when he comes home it feels so domestic - you and Alistair either running around the house playing games or cooking or baking together - something about it feels so right to him.

But he doesn’t want to make things weird between the two of you.

He hopes this special trip will help him out a little bit.

“Alright, the only room we have left is room 5. Is that ok Mr. Lord?”

Max nods as the small bed and breakfast owner hands over the key. He turns to look at you with tired eyes, seeing Alistair leaning up against you, barely awake.

Grabbing your bags, Max makes quick work of guiding you and Ali down the long hallway of numbered rooms until the three of you were gathered outside of room five.

Opening the door with the key, Max leads the two of you inside the small two room suite, dropping the bags unceremoniously onto the carpet as Ali lays down on the couch in the “living room” which consisted of a small kitchenette, a couch and two comfy chairs, a tv, and kitchen table with chairs.

“I knew he was tired, but not that tired,” you chuckle, pointing to the couch where Ali is fast asleep, one of the stuffed animals you had bought for him tucked under his arm.

Max let’s out a huff of frustration as he sits down on one of the soft chairs, running a hand through his now messy locks.

“Hey,” you say soothingly, making your way to the chair next to Max’s and sit down. You reach out a hand and place it on Max’s shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze.

At the feeling of your touch, a pair of brown eyes looks up and lock with yours, Max’s brow furrowed in not only frustration but stress.

The past several hours didn’t go as any of you planned.

The plane ride started out as usual, Max siting comfortingly in his seat and looking over some documents for his upcoming meeting. You and Alistair were sat in your own seats, playing with a new copy of Mad Libs, with Alistair giggling as you read out the story he created.

You were probably in the air for about 45 minutes when you hit a patch of bad weather, the plane going through a bit of turbulence.

Feeling the plane rock, your hand immediately shoots out to grab onto Max’s, your eyes locking with his in fear as he squeezes your hand, sending a small wave of comfort throughout your body.

The pilot comes over the speaker to inform you that he needs to make an emergency landing while the weather passes, and you feel your heartbeat pick up as the plane begins to descend, hearing Max comfort Ali from his seat.

It’s when the plane is grounded, that you begin to process what just happened - you find it hard to catch your breath as your bags are unloaded from the plane.

“Hey hey hey,” a soothing, familiar deep voice says, “we’re okay, alright? Let’s find somewhere we can stay so you and Ali can rest.”

“What about you? You need rest too after today,” you sigh, feeling Max place his hand on the small of your back, grabbing a few bags and grabbing Ali’s hand as the three of you make your way towards the taxi the small airport called for you.

“I’m not too worried about it,” Max reassures, helping you load everything into the taxi before helping you inside.

The bed and breakfast you were staying at was hours outside of DC, but you could always find a cat tomorrow and drive down to make it to Max’s meeting. It was the only place nearby with availability, even if it was only one room.

You break eye contact with Max, telling him you are going to run to the bathroom real quick. You stand up and walk over to the door to the bedroom, turning the knob open and gasping as you look inside.

“What’s wrong?” Max worriedly presses, still on edge from earlier. He jumps up and makes his way over, ready to face whatever danger may be behind the door, but feels his eyes widen as he sees the one singular bed in the center of the room.

“Oh,” he sighs, seeing you have the same reaction. The two of you haven’t shared a bed since that first night, and the two of you never spoke of it again.

“I can sleep in one of the chairs,” you blurt out, not fully thinking before the words come out. You can’t imagine sharing a bed with your boss, with Max, after what happened last time. It just would be too awkward.

“No no, you don’t have to do that,” he reassures, “I’ll sleep on the chair,” he suggests, getting a head shake from you. You don’t want him to be uncomfortable because of you, but you also don’t want to push the boundaries.

He lets out a sigh as he runs his hand through his hair again, something he would do when stressed over something such as a business proposal or shareholder meeting, but this was different.

You take a deep breath and turn to look at the tall man, watching as his eyes look down to meet yours. God he was so pretty. Has he always been this pretty?

“How about we just both sleep in the bed Max, that way we can both be comfortable and get some sleep before our drive tomorrow,” you rush out, looking down at your feet to avoid his gaze.

Max stays quiet for a moment, thinking over the benefits of actually sleeping in a bed, with you in it. After today, he feels like he could fall asleep instantly, so maybe it’ll be that way in the bed.

“Alright,” he sighs, “I’m going to change in the bathroom.”

You nod as he reaches down to grab his designer travel bag, heading off to the attached bathroom before shutting the door, missing the way your face heats up at the thought of sharing a bed with him.

You will yourself to get changed quickly, not wanting Max to walk in on you changing, even if he’s seen you undressed before.

Grabbing your bag, you search through for your pajamas, which consist of a pair of striped sleep shorts and an old oversized tshirt. Letting your hair down, you feel a heavy weight of exhaustion flow over you like an ocean wave, and your body subconsciously makes it’s way over to the small bed and lets you settle in.

Max walks out of the en-suite bathroom a few moments later, clad in his custom Armani pajamas and makes his way over to the bed, seeing you already tucked under the covers and turned away from him.

He lets out a sigh as he peels back his side of the covers, letting his body slip into his side of the bed and relax, the bed feeling like a cloud under his tense muscles. Letting his eyes flutter closed, he wills himself to fall asleep fast.

“Max?” you whisper, turning over to lay on your back.

The older man lets out a quiet groan, flipping over to face you. “Yes?”

“Why don’t you date?”

The question nearly makes his eyes shoot out of his head. Was he dreaming?

“I uh-,” he starts, letting out a small cough and staring up at the ceiling. “I haven’t found someone i’d want to bring home.”

He doesn’t miss the small “mhm” you let out, the air becoming thick with tension.

“Why don’t you date?” He questions back, feeling a little bold. If you could ask him, why couldn’t he ask you.

You let out a small laugh, “Of course you’d ask,” you laugh, taking a deep breath before closing your eyes. It’s now or never. After the turbulence situation, it made you realize that things aren’t guaranteed. Hell, if it bothers him Max can find another nanny.

“I haven’t found anyone i’d want to bring home since I met you.”

Max feels his throat tighten up. He immediately turns towards you and sees you have opened your eyes back up, and are looking right at him. Fuck, is this really happening?

“Me?” he asks excitedly, trying to stay calm as his nanny confesses her true feelings right before his very eyes.

“Yes you, unless there is some other Maxwell Lord that I have slept with and work for!” you laugh, feeling the anxiety in your chest start to fade away. You watch Max closely, swearing you can see stars in his eyes as your confession escapes your lips.

Max smiles to himself, letting out a small chuckle to himself before looking back at you. He scoots a little closer to you, not wanting to overcrowd you, but wanting to close the space between you two. He reaches forward and brushes a stray piece of hair away from your face, watching as a faint blush rises upon your cheeks.

“Can I hold you?” He asks softly, almost as if you would disappear if he spoke louder. You nod back at him, turning on your side so that your back is pressed up against his front.

Adjusting the covers around you both, Max brings you closer to his body and places his strong arm around your waist, holding you softly, yet securely, as if he would never let go. He settles his face into your neck and takes in your soft scent of coconut and something else sweet, never wanting to forget the scent.

You both let your eyes flutter shut, set on getting some rest. Feeling Max rubbing a familiar pattern on your hip, you feel yourself start to drift off comfortably, only feeling butterflies in your tummy, but the good kind.

Tomorrow you both can talk about your feelings, but right now you just want to lie in Max’s arms, and never have him let you go

taglist: @salome-c @jasterslegacy @marydjarin @hnt-escape

#ksjdjdjks #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #maxwell lord one shot #wonder woman 1984 #ww 1984 #pedro pascal characters #my writing

[thatonecitykid]

I bet on Losing

Hey everyone! Sorry this is so sad.. was already crying so might as well make everyone else cry.This takes place after Endgame but during the same time as Far From Home. Listen to "I Bet on Losing Dogs" by Mitski for the full experience. Word Count: 2517. Have fun angels :)

Peter had finally left for his class trip, Pepper and Morgan had gone to spend their summer in Malibu, the remaining avengers were either in space or had completely disappeared from your life. Here you were after five years of your life had evaporated, and after all this time you had to play your fathers role for all the remaining avengers. You hadn't had the opportunity to cry when you first learned about what had happened. You couldn't cry at the funeral, not because you did not want to, but because you felt as if your father wouldn't want to see it. No one wanted to leave you alone, but after months of trying to dig some type of emotion out of you they had assumed that the death and slow disappearance of your makeshift avenger family had unaffected you.

You finally had the opportunity to exist alone. You had also finally mustered up the strength to visit secluded cabin your father had lived in for the last five years of his life. Although you had been given the keys immediately after the funeral, something about visiting the area made you feel uneasy. Not necessarily creeped out but just as if you did not belong, after all it was something your father invested in after you had already blipped away for several months.

You drove up to the cabin alone, slowly unlocking the door as if to not start or whoever may be inside. Before even entering the cabin, it looks clean, you assume that Pepper has had people cleaning constantly to maintain the cabin. It made sense, it was something she's cherished. You stepped into the cabin slowly and began to look around. The walls were lined with framed pictures of Morgan, family pictures of Pepper, your dad, and Morgan, and random posters and vintage albums. Although you were not the one to complain about it, having no evidence of your existence in the main areas of the home caused your heart dropped. As you wandered through the kitchen and the main family room, there is no evidence of Tony's life prior to the blip, just a somewhat normal family of three.

You decide to wander to the basement area, leaving the office and bedroom spaces upstairs for later. There was a large sitting area that you assumed they watched movies in. There was also a playroom painted pink featuring all sorts of gadgets very similar to those you grew up with that Tony had made for you. Towards the back hall of the basement, it was a glass door to your father's workshop area. You open the door gently and made your way in.

Despite looking like somewhat of a mess, you knew that behind the madness there was a method. You could tell that although your dad left in a hurry, things were placed in specific spots very similarly to how he did in every other one of his workshops. You walked towards his swiveling chair, noticing a metal box with a button on the worktable. You press the button and jump back as a life-size hologram of your father appeared in the room. He began

"Hi Pepper. My love, my muse, my boss. If you are listening to this then I did the one thing you have always told me not to do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the worry I've put you through, and I am sorry for taking myself away from you. I was a gift wasn't I. You've already seen another version of this message, but it never hurts to see your face again my darling."

The tears in your eyes begin to form, not because you had not expected to see your father. At this point you had already seen the message he had left after the funeral; It was only really meant for Pepper and Morgan, never addressing you.. At the funeral you refused to enter the cabin but as you watched the message while standing outside, Happy looked over at you with remorse but you kept a straight face again. Who were you to complain at your dead dad's funeral? Yet this message radiated the same energy.

As the second portion of the message began to play tears began to fall faster. It almost feels like an out of body, sure your dad had taken up different kids during your time growing up, but this message made you feel as If you had been completely replaced. Although it felt like a dumb theory there was no evidence as to your existence prior to Morgan.

"Hello my little scientist. How's my favorite person. Daddy is really sorry I can't be there right now. Be a trooper and hug you mom for me real quick. Now you must be surprised because I'm supposed to be the strongest dad in the world but let me tell you kid, sometimes crazy things happen when put on the ironman helmet. My little minion I love you 3000. My love for you is infinite. You have been and will forever be daddy's best friend."

Here you were crying over a child who had also lost her father, filled with jealousy over the fact that you father had chosen her and failed to consider your return but had prepared for Peter's return, still had projects waiting for Harley, and had in fact set up a stable plan for Morgan's future. At this point you were sobbing, what had all felt like a bad nightmare and jumping to conclusions had started to feel way too real. This emotion was even stronger than when you watched footage from your father suit as the snap happened, this emotion felt like a stab in the back.

Maybe he never loved me.

You tried to collect yourself but were still sobbing when the holographic figure of you father disappeared. You might as well finish the house tour before leaving. The upstairs portion of the house featured Tony and Pepper's room, Morgan's room and two other doors. The main bedroom was tidy and organized, with a closet full of clothes that both Pepper and your dad had left. You walked into Morgan's room and did a quick look around, not wanting to invade child space. Returning to the hallway you opened the door to your father's office. Inside there was a rather simple with a desk, a leather chair, and two matching chairs. The plants in the room were growing well, meaning someone still came to water them. There were a few pictures on the wall, including Peter's Stark internship picture, and a random picture you took of the original Avengers after their first New York battle. On the desk there was another metal box similar to that in the workpace. You argued whether or not you wanted to potentially break your heart more before giving in, siting in the leather seat and pressing the button.

A slim beam of light scanned over your face, confirming your identity, and the box began to play. To say you were shocked is an understatement, as your father's hologram appeared across the desk sitting in one of the matching chairs.

"Hello Munchkin. If you've found this box, then I just going to have to accept that I've failed you. You've been gone for five years and regret every moment leading up to when you snapped away. You really did want to come to space with me, and honestly you would have been helpful, but I don't think I could see you Blip away and have the will to continue. That being said because I am already admitting I was wrong, I should not have had your suit take you to the bunker room, where you eventually snapped away alone. I regret that decision y constantly. On another note, I'm sorry I didn't hug you as soon as you got back, I clearly I cannot really hug anyone."

You had finally given up on holding in their tears. You didn't have to be strong in front of your dad. He had always held you when you cried and this time he couldn't. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but nothing felt the same.

"I hope you are crying, because if I'm crying alone during this part, I'll be embarrassed, his image continued as it stood up and leaned against the back of the chair. Munch I know you've probably walked around this house and have found no evidence of yourself. You've probably beat yourself up about how much I love Morgan, but think about it. The amount of time I've spent these last 5 years essentially idolizing you would not have been good for her to experience. "

You rose quickly from the chair. Not even one damn picture?

"Now I know you're wondering not even a single picture. Pick up the projector box and follow me ."

You did as the digital version of your father told you and followed it back into the hallway.

"Put the box down and put your hand on the center of the door. "

This activated a scanner which opened up the door to the room. As you walked in you recognized that this was an exact replica of your room back in the Malibu house. You were still a kid when the original house was blown to pieces but somehow everything was exactly as you remembered it. As you walked further into the room you noticed the large screens, placed like picture frames, which played videos and pictures of you and your dad throughout the years.

Your father walked towards the center of the room, bounded by how far the projector was.

"You see kid, me and you have somewhat the same grieving styles. I have a feeling you didn't cry at the funeral. I have a feeling you haven't cried, at least in a way that someone else could have noticed. You take after me in that sense."

The hologram started to sniffle, your dad had actually started crying when recording this. You really wanted to hug him, the reality of his death hurt even more. You had finally allowed yourself to start grieving.

"Look, I know you used to listen to the song about betting on losing dogs when you wanted to cry, but that does not apply to you at all. You may have gotten a more complicated stick of life, but I can tell ya, this does not need to be your villain origin story. From the first day I took you home I could tell you were a fighter, but I need you to feel as if its ok to cry. I've spent hours on this floor in shambles wishing you were here. The small things that Morgan does that remind me of you throw me into sadness pools constantly. You are my motivating force. I really hope you allow yourself to cry about it so that you can continue in life. I don't think I can stand in this room for any longer before I cannot speak at all, so please take the projector back to my office. "

As you lifted the projector you thought about how much this must have hurt your father to record. Maybe he didn't want anyone to encounter this box except for you. As you placed the box on the desk, you sat back into the leather chair as your father's holograph sat across from you.

"On a different note, you are probably wondering why I seemed to set up a game plan for everyone but you. With Morgan I just made sure she had a comfortable, who am I kidding, lavish funding behind her. I can't dictate what a five-year-old should do. For Harley you know that I've always looked out for him, a position in Stark industries honestly should not have surprised you. Peter is what I feel most conflicted about. I'm not setting him up to become the next Ironman, I'm setting him up to become the greatest version of Spiderman he can be. Well, I know the media is probably going to take it and run having known that Spiderman and Ironman we're friends at some point, but I'm really giving you the biggest responsibility. I don't expect you to live in my shadow, I want you to outgrow it. I think you might be surprised to see everything that I left you, besides Stark industries itself. That's a conversation for another day."

"I know I've been speaking for quite a while, but my baby, my baby yes I called you that. I know how much this has all affected you, and I'm sorry, I am completely sorry and do take full fault for it all. But now because we cannot change the past, let's focus on the present. I want you to know that I loved you with my entire being. I'm not sure how to emphasize this enough but I do want you to know you were cared for, you were loved, and you were thought about for every minute. If you don't get to see this message, and I'm already gone, that means this message will never have to play for anyone. Either I found you and I've given you a new message, or I'm rolling in my grave. Either way my darling I cannot emphasize how much I love you. I do hope for the best for. Before I have to go, I want to see you smile. Sure, I can't physically see it right now, but I can imagine it."

As the recording choked out that last sentence, you flashed a weak smile. A face sticky with all the tears that you have been crying.

Now I know you need to get back home, but when you get back to the city, stop by the shawarma place and get something to eat. you gotta eat Darling. Also don't act like you don't like Peter, you two idiots keep pushing each other away in cannot take it. Now I'm gonna say goodbye mini me. Watch over Pepper and Morgan for me, okay? I love you."

You took one final sweep of the house before heading back to your car. You had cried so much that your eyes physical hurt. You almost felt a sense of comfort having finally released some of the pent-up emotion. As you drove towards the city and towards the Shawarma place you almost felt kind of sad, knowing that all of your friends were in a foreign country. Yet you still felt as if your best friend, your Dad was watching over you. And in all reality that felt as if it was the only thing that mattered.

#stark reader #stark!reader #irondad #tony stark x reader #peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader

[potts89]

By @potts89 for @hold-our-destiny, written for the fourth @friendly-neighborhood-exchange.

Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts Summary:

“Honey,” Tony coaxed her, purposely not taking his eyes off the monitor in front of him. “What did I do?” “What do you mean what did you do?” “You’re giving me the look.” He could hear Pepper sighing but Tony simply assumed that she must have had a long, tiring day, that’s why. “Tony, when should I pencil you in to see Peter?” “See him for what?”

It started out as a run-of-the-mill, after school patrol... until Peter was reminded of a different alley, from a different time, but a very much familiar scenario.

Read it here (full fic under the cut) and on AO3.

“You’ve got the board meeting at four o’clock today, and Morgan’s ballet recital is at ten tomorrow morning and we’re supposed to meet Jim for lunch afterwards.”

Pepper went through Tony’s schedule as she waltzed into his workshop that afternoon, the measured clicking of her heels somewhat making him nostalgic for those days back when she was still his personal assistant and she would always harangue him about his meetings. He smiled distractedly at the thought that his wife and CEO, even after over a decade and a half, still refused to delegate his schedule to someone else. Not that he was complaining (because, really, he much preferred it this way), because Pepper, Tony knew, happened to be very hands-on after all. That and the fact that she probably knew that, except for Morgan, no one else could pry Tony away from whatever new project he was currently obsessing on. So it made sense that if Pepper wanted him to actually adhere to his schedule, she really should take the reins herself.

Tony threw a cursory glance at his monitor just to check the time, because Pepper was standing in front of him with her arms crossed in front of her chest, impatiently waiting for him to say or do something.

He noted that he still had about an hour to wash up, get dressed, and take the elevators to the conference room which was just twenty floors down, so unless he forgot their wedding anniversary (which, to his credit, had never happened), Pepper shouldn’t be giving him that ‘Drop whatever it is you’re doing right now,’ look.

“Honey,” Tony coaxed her, purposely not taking his eyes off the monitor in front of him. “What did I do?”

“What do you mean what did you do?”

“You’re giving me the look.”

He could hear Pepper sighing but Tony simply assumed that she must have had a long, tiring day, that’s why.

“Tony, when should I pencil you in to see Peter?”

“See him for what?”

Ever since he got the kid back, Tony had been consciously trying to keep some distance. Sure, not a day went by that he didn’t worry about Peter – the anxiety over something happening, again, that could take the kid away from him, again, never truly completely disappeared – but he didn’t want to suffocate the boy either. So as much as Tony wanted to be a helicopter doting (pseudo-) parent, he kept his distance. He no longer required daily patrol reports, he disabled the Baby Monitor Protocol (at Peter’s request and much to his disapproval, although they did reach a compromise that Karen would automatically ping FRIDAY should Peter be fatally injured (they had a long discussion on what Tony actually meant with fatal afterwards)), and he didn’t mess with Peter’s patrolling unless the kid specifically asked for his help and advice.

The adjustments were difficult, but Tony knew that he wouldn’t be around to hold the boy’s hand forever so he endured the changes. Plus, Peter seemed to appreciate this new sense of responsibility and independence, and Tony could only imagine that this was probably what it would feel like when the kid would finally leave for college at MIT.

God, he could feel the separation anxiety already.

“Michelle called…” Pepper trailed off and Tony would later on realize that he really should’ve noted the worry in his wife’s tone. “Something happened during his patrol.”

That surely caught Tony’s attention. He quickly glanced up at Pepper while the screwdriver he had been working with clattered to the floor.

“Is he—”

“He’s not hurt… physically.”

“Right, of course. FRIDAY would’ve alerted me if that’s the case.” He breathed a sigh of relief, but that relief was short-lived when he finally actually noticed the frown creasing Pepper’s features. “Wait, Michelle called? Where’s the kid?”

“He was on patrol. He tried to stop a mugging incident but by the time he got at the scene, a young boy’s father was already shot and—”

“He’s been blaming himself for it,” Tony finished for her and he knew just exactly what’s going on in Peter’s head right now.

Pepper reached for the rug that was lying on his worktable before walking up to him and giving it to him to wipe the grease off of his hands. “Michelle has been trying to convince him otherwise. Now I’m telling you this because Peter knows that Michelle’s the one person who will comfort him no matter what—”

“Which means he won’t believe it when she says it wasn’t his fault.”

Pepper nodded while Tony sighed tiredly, hating the fact that Peter seemed to have picked up on his own tendency for self-reproach. He handed the rug back to Pepper who seemed pleased that her husband appeared to be finally on the same page as she.

“Pep, honey, how important is today’s board meeting?” he asked, even if he knew that Pepper wouldn’t keep him anyway.

“Well, R&D is presenting that tech that you wanted the patent on.”

“Tell them I’ll have to reschedule.”

She smiled at him, a knowing smile that he had gotten so familiar with and so thankful for over the years. “I already did.”

He really did marry the perfect woman, didn’t he?

“You’re the best,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her and it did amuse him to note that she didn’t make a comment on how the grease would most likely get on her own clothes. He kissed her, deeply though hurriedly. “I love you.”

“Go and be a good dad. I love you, too.”

---- --- ----

“I thought we already agreed that you’d disable the tracker in my suit,” Peter muttered without glancing, long before Tony could even announce his arrival thanks to that thing he really didn’t like to call ‘Peter tingle.’

He had been sitting there alone all afternoon, deep in a quiet, one-way conversation with the headstone in front on him which bore the name of the uncle that pretty much raised him as his own. The same uncle who, up to this day, Peter still felt guilty and responsible for.

To say that Peter was having a terrible day was definitely an understatement. It started out like any normal afternoon – he nailed that physics test, he listened (enraptured) while MJ discussed the women’s suffrage in great detail over lunch, and he swung by Stark Tower to drop a new toy for Morgan sometime after class – there was nothing out of the ordinary, at least until a few minutes into his patrol.

He was swinging by some of his usual hunts in the city when his hyper-keen senses caught the scream of a young boy just a few blocks away. Peter rushed to the scene without second thought, but what he initially anticipated as a run-of-the-mill mugging incident in one of New York’s quiet alleys turned out to strike too close to home.

Peter just stood there, unmoving, rooted to the spot as the bandit fled the scene of the crime leaving behind a young boy quite possibly no older than nine, a man in his mid-forties lying on the pavement and possibly bleeding to death, and Peter who seemed to have been transported back to a different alley, from a different time, but in a very much familiar scenario.

Peter felt numb, so much so that for a while there, he completely believed that he was watching a younger version of himself, helplessly crouching over the bleeding man, while the police and ambulance sirens sounded nearer and nearer and nearer…

“What happened here?” one of the EMTs shouted but Peter was too stunned and completely trapped in his own head that he was practically the most useless person on the site. “Spider-Man?” the EMT prodded but Peter was too out of it (or maybe, too into it) that he barely registered the question at all.

Everything was a blur afterwards. He barely recalled the EMTs loading the victim and the young boy into the ambulance, he was quite unaware of the many people looking his way wondering why Spider-Man was standing there, motionless in an alley. He barely recalled clutching his phone to his ear and hearing MJ’s confused and worried voice as he muttered “It’s my fault,” over and over and over again.

He couldn’t even exactly remember how he managed to end up in this place, or how long he had been sitting there on the ground apologizing to the indifferent headstone that offered him neither forgiveness nor reassurance.

For hours (he wasn’t really sure if it had been hours, but it certainly felt that way to him), he kept having those dreaded flashbacks in his head… The image of the boy crouching over his father’s body merging and morphing into looking more like Peter, while he himself applied pressure on the man’s wounds with his bare hands, the same man who was beginning to look more and more like his—

“I did disable your suit’s tracker, but I didn’t exactly need one to know where to find you.” Tony’s voice was grounding, pulling him back to the present… to what was real, to what was happening.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Peter asked, not really knowing what was the point in asking. Still, he avoided Tony’s gaze, choosing to focus his eyes instead on the headstone in front of him even as the older man took a seat beside him. “You didn’t need to come and pick me up, I was heading back anyway—”

“Of course I know you’d be here, you give me so little credit, kid.” Peter felt that gentle, reassuring pat on his shoulder and the gesture alone was enough to break what little composure he had left. “And I also know that I didn’t need to come, but I wanted to.”

He didn’t really know what to say to that, not out of shyness nor awkwardness because he and Tony were definitely past that point by now, but more because he was once again reminded that Tony actually cared… that the man was in his corner and would always be, come hell or high water.

Even after all these years, Peter still couldn’t wrap his head around that idea, that he actually had someone, that he wasn’t truly completely alone.

“Alright, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?”

“Who says there’s anything on my mind?” Peter deflected, easily picking up on Tony’s usual modus operandi when confronted with something that he wasn’t really keen about discussing. Peter learned from the master, after all.

“There’s always something on your mind,” Tony’s tone was patient with a hint of chiding, and Peter wanted to stop himself from thinking that the tone was almost paternal. “The only time it doesn’t pop right out of your mouth is when you’re not sure you should say it… that and when you were still trying to tell MJ that you actually like her. So?”

“I’m fine,” Peter mumbled, but he knew it would be pretty naïve of him if he were to believe that Tony would actually let him get away with not talking about it. Still, he could try, right?

He almost did believe that Tony had decided to drop the issue because the palpable silence stretched between them, with Peter not really wanting to relive the afternoon and with Tony probably waiting for that conversation opening that Peter would be absolutely unwilling to give to him. Still, Tony, Peter knew, was nothing if not persistent.

“Pete, you can’t save everybody.”

It was said so simply, so fatherly even, that Peter could really do very little to stop the dam from finally breaking. He knew that Tony knew that he never really felt comfortable talking about his uncle, and Peter was actually thankful that Tony had opted not to pursue the topic directly at least.

Still the thought didn’t do much to alleviate Peter’s guilt from what happened that afternoon. He kept thinking that if he had only been a bit faster, a little braver, a bit tougher… if he hadn’t let the ghost of his past failure haunt him at such a very crucial moment…

Peter cringed at the possibility that another kid could be orphaned by now all because he got scared and stunned, exactly like the boy he once was the last time he actually saw his uncle breathing and living…

“Kid, it’s not your fault. We try and we try but we can’t save them all.”

“But you did, and granted that it cost you a lot,” Peter paused, his red-rimmed eyes quickly darting towards Tony’s prosthetic arm, making him feel so small and unsure and inept. “But you did… you did save us all.”

“I didn’t, kid.”

“No, you actually did—”

“I didn’t, kid, at least not during the first time. Else, I would not have spent a lot of nights imagining, dreaming that I saved you in Titan. Because every night before I go to sleep, in the last five years I keep thinking about the things I could have done differently… Kid, every night I save you, in my head and in my dreams. But when it mattered the most, when it actually counted, I failed. I didn't save you.”

“No, Mr. Stark... Because when it mattered the most, you brought me back.”

Peter didn’t really know what else to say other than that, but he hoped that it was enough for now. He was, after all, very much aware that no matter how immensely grateful he truly was, his thanks wouldn’t even begin to give justice to what Tony had to do, had to gamble with, just to get him (and the others) back.

To tell the truth, he would have dwelled on the thought, on the more appropriate thing to say, but his mind was basically elsewhere at the moment and he blurted out his worries before he could even stop himself.

“I just… I froze earlier because I know what it’s like to be orphaned young, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Touché.”

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean…”

He glanced at Tony but there was nothing but understanding in his old man’s eyes, the memory of his own loss clearly still as saddening but time had clearly played a factor in healing past wounds.

“I know what you mean, kid, more than anyone, really. I was twenty one then, technically already an adult, but I was very far from being one.”

“It’s just, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy… And to think that I could’ve done something earlier today had I been faster, stronger, braver…” Peter trailed off, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat as he thought back to his own parents and his uncle. “I know what it’s like to be alone, to be on your own… It was difficult, it still is.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

Peter furrowed his brows at the way that Tony’s voice broke. “Sorry for what?”

“I try so hard… so hard to make you feel that you have someone, that you’re no longer alone, that you’re not an orphan, at least not anymore. And I really thought that giving you some independence was what you wanted, but I guess I wasn’t doing enough if you still feel that—”

“But you are,” he cut in, only realizing in that moment that he had inadvertently made Tony  feel inadequate, when the truth was Peter actually felt so indebted to him. Peter knew that he owed him his life, so much so that he actually felt shy being around the man, especially whenever he would see Tony’s prosthetic arm because if not for him…

“You’re doing more than enough,” Peter assured him, wanting to tell him that he actually filled that paternal void just exactly when Peter needed him the most. “Mr. Stark, you’re like the—”

Peter caught himself, stopping before he could even say anything more… because doing so would be impolite, would be imposing, would be asking for too much.

“I’m like what?”

You’re like the father I wish I had.

Peter bit his lip as he tried to grapple not necessarily with the right words but with more appropriate ones, less assuming ones, because he was still so uncertain about his place in Tony’s family. Never mind the fact that Pepper would regularly set a place for him on the dinner table and Morgan would ask him to read her bedtime stories and Tony kept calling him kid but…

He didn’t feel worthy.

Because if he couldn’t protect them in the end just like the way that he failed with his own uncle, he would never be worthy. If he couldn’t keep that kid’s father from earlier that afternoon safe, how would he be able to keep this family safe?

You’re like the father I wish I had.

“You’re my mentor, Mr. Stark,” was what Peter settled for in the end. “And I’m very lucky because you’re doing more than enough for me.”

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Tony smirked at him when Peter threw a sidelong glance in his direction, the obvious chagrin in his voice making Peter curious about his remark. “Because I thought you were going to say that I’m like a father to you, but mentor’s fine, I guess. I’ll take it.”

Peter gazed at him, his brown eyes so full of wonder while Tony simply grinned in that patented smile he usually reserved for the adoring public.

“So let me get this straight. You see me as a son-figure?” Peter asked, forgetting all about his earlier reservations.

“Well, Morgan did tell her teachers that she has an older brother so—”

“That’s Morgan. How about you, though?”

“—and Pepper’s still about twelve percent convinced that you really are my secret lovechild from back in my playboy days—”

“Would it kill you so much to say it out loud?”

Tony laughed and Peter honestly thought that it would probably be better if the ground simply swallowed him up at that point. This was just so embarrassing but he figured that his need for affirmation outweighed his sense of shame, at least in that moment.

“You’re my kid, okay?” Tony reached out to put an arm around his shoulder and somehow, Peter felt lighter, safer, in spite of the day’s events. “Mine and Pepper’s, Morgan’s brother. You’re family, Pete. You always have been. Why do you think you have a room at the Tower and at the lake house?”

“I just thought they’re guest rooms,” he mumbled quietly, eyes downcast because he could feel the tears now streaming down his face.

“Those rooms have photos of you with Morgan, and Star Wars memorabilia, and clothes and shoes in your size. Guest rooms can’t be that specific.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“And it’s not your fault. What happened today and what happened with your uncle, it was never your fault, Pete. You’re just a kid.”

Peter couldn’t help but wipe his eyes with the back of his hand while Tony pulled him into a tighter side-hug. He wished he could tell Tony thank you, but he was quite sure that words would betray him at this point. He honestly didn’t know what happened back there at the alley – he had, after all, been to space and fought his fair share of nemeses – but the familiarity of the situation caught him off-guard, hitting too close to home and trapping him in his own mind and with his own memories.

Peter realized that maybe it was because he had not really forgiven himself… for what happened with his own uncle and for Tony having to make a sacrifice. But if Tony never really blamed him, then…

“Pepper asked me to tell you that the boy’s father is now out of the woods and that he will make a full recovery,” Tony told him after some time, reading the message Pepper must have sent him on his phone. “And that she’s expecting you at dinner tonight, at the tower.”

Peter furrowed his brows, frowning in confusion as he did so. “How did she know about…”

“Who do you think Michelle called?”

“Of course.”

“So let’s go? Home?” Tony stood up, tossing him the keys to the Audi. “You drive. Slowly. I’m gonna guide you, but drive slowly.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t feel alone anymore. After all, he never really was, and he never really would be.

He grinned just as he started the engine, the way that Tony gripped the edge of his seat was not lost on Peter at all.

“You know, Mr. Stark, I think as long as I drive slower than you do, we’ll be fine.”

“Pete, driving slower than me doesn’t automatically mean that you’re driving within the speed limit.”

“I merely said—”

“Just drive. Slowly.” Tony cut in, sighing as he closed his eyes beneath the tinted glasses he was sporting. “Before I change my mind.”

Peter smiled, stepping on the gas and speeding off, within limits, of course.

***

#The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange #peter parker #pepper potts #tony stark #irondad #spider son #Peter Parker is having a bad day