#I’m sure this is already a post somewhere but I haven’t seen it so I’m making my own

[sanriothot]

SHOWER SURPRISE

Dick Grayson x Female! Reader

Summary: You try joining Dick in the shower for some time together and it backfires.

Warning: SMUT! NSFW! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI OR YOU WILL GET BLOCKED! hickeys, oral (m receiving), pet names (babe + baby), please don’t do sexc time in the shower, you might hurt yourself ☹️ also no beta, we die like robins

Word Count: 1,168

A/N: look at me, two fics a couple days apart! I saw a writing prompt with this plot years ago and i’ve always wanted to write it! I just wanted to let everyone know that requests are open! I’m still working on finishing work from my drafts but I don't mind working on other ideas. just make sure to check faq before requesting. Ofc reblogs and replies are always appreciated 💖

This wasn’t part of your plan. Not part of the plan at all.

You scrambled out of the freezing cold shower and clambered for your bathrobe that hung on the door of your shared bathroom. Water dripped all over the floor but you were more focused on getting warm.

“Baby?!” Dick gasped, it was hard to miss the shock in his voice. His head popped out from behind the sliding shower door, his eyes wide and jaw already on the floor. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes glaze over at his muscular frame, only slightly obscured by the frosted glass of the shower door. it’s not like you haven’t seen him undressed before but you can’t help but to ogle at him with no shame.

You wanted to surprise Dick by joining him for his post-patrol shower. Help him get off the sweat and grime from a long night and maybe get him dirty in a different way. But you forget one key piece of information.

Dick typically takes cold showers after patrols.

“Yes, just-“ Goosebumps sprinkled across your dark skin, most of it still exposed despite how tightly you wrapped yourself up in your bathrobe. You caught yourself almost letting your teeth chatter while continuing to speak to your boyfriend. “Just so cold.”

“Come back in, I’m gonna warm up the shower.” Dick moves towards the faucet of the walk in shower. A squeak rings out as it turns and slowly the bathroom mirror begins to fog up from steam.

“C’mon, Babe,” He stretches his arm out for you.

You strip your robe off slowly. It’s not like Dick is lying about warming up the shower but that small part of your mind still can’t get over the shock of the cold water. You fully expect to get drenched with bone chilling water for the second time tonight.

“I promise, it’s warm, baby.” As if he could read your mind (or just read your body language, being that he was adopted by the world’s greatest detective).

You step in the shower once again now greeted by warm water and the sweet smile of your boyfriend.

“There you are. I really thought you were going to ditch me for a second.”

You took the suds covered loofah from out of his hand and gently ran it across his chest. You giggle to yourself before answering “Almost did.”

You and Dick go through your entire shower routine together, occasionally sprinkling in small talk on how your day went.

Soon, You’re rinsing each other off, the soap swirling down the drain. Dick drags his hands up and down the sides of your body, the water running down the both of you. He’s completely smitten with you after feeling so well taken care after a long night.

He leans in, dusting kisses across your face, making it distracting you from rinsing the soap from his inky black hair. He’s teasing you. Each kiss, you think he’ll finally kiss on your lips but the kiss lands somewhere else instead.

After a while, you had enough of his game. you tangle your fingers into his hair and guide his lips to yours.

Dick let out a whimper, he pressed your body against the shower wall, deeping this kiss. His hands roamed your body, fingers massaging your ass and the other hand squeezing your boob. He kisses the corner of your mouth, to cheek and then your jawline. Finally, he works his way down your neck, kisses getting sloppier as he goes. Your breaths get deeper while he sucks on the crook of your neck, grazing his teeth on it before dragging his tongue. Your neck is covered in hickeys but couldn’t care less, the only thing on your mind is making sure you and Dick have a great time and enjoy the moment.

“I need to know if you want this,” Dick says.

You look into his baby blue eyes with so much excitement. “I want this.”

“On your knees, now.”

You slowly drop to your knees, making sure to steady yourself as not to fall on the tile floor. His dick already hard, your fingers wrap around it, giving him a couple pumps. You let your tongue swirl on the tip, getting a taste of the precum that was already leaking out. Your lips work its way past his tip, taking your sweet time to suck him off.

“I know you can take it or am I too big for you?” You both lock eyes as he smirks, clearly teasing you.

And at the moment, you thought fuck taking your sweet time.

Your hands move to his thighs and squeeze them, letting your nails slightly dig into his skin to ground. You increase your speed, head bobbing with all caution thrown out. Your mind was already made, you were determined to work your way down his shaft. Coaxing more moans and whimpers out of Dick as you continue sucking him off. You can’t help but to moan at the filthy sounds you were making in the process.

You got yourself as close to his hilt as you could, your mouth adjusting to his size before Dick grabs the back of your head and thrusts.

“That’s right. Every inch of me.” He groans out.

You're completely at his mercy, your mind can only focus on how good this feels while you deep throat him. He slowly pulls out before thrusting again and again, working up to steady pace to fuck you to. He was kidding about taking every inch of him because god, you could feel how big he was. Your eyes glassy as a mix of drool and precum drips down your chin, trying your best not to choke.

“Don’t stop, baby. I’m so close-“ He moans, his hips rutting into your mouth, his self control slipping. Each trust was getting sloppier than the last. The water from the shower runs down every crevice of his toned body. He can help but babble about how great you feel and how much he wants you, his mind already blessed out.

And that’s when it happens. One last thrust that kisses the back of your throat. Dick moans and pants, his chest rising and falling as he fills your mouth with his hot sticky cum.

You mew, making sure to suck every last drop before your lips let go with a pop. You’re already aware that you probably look like a hot mess. Saliva and leftover cum that you couldn’t swallow running down your mouth. Your pupils are blown out with stray tears. And if it wasn’t for the shower cap you had on, you know hair would’ve been ruined too.

But you didn’t mind at all, loving making Dick a wreck.

Dick leans over, twists the faucet off.

“C’mere, I’m not done with you.” He pulls you up to feet again, cupping your face before diving in for another kiss. His tongue brushes past your lips to get a taste of you and himself.

#batman imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader smut #nightwing smut #dick grayson smut

[nihilistem]

adhd study tips.

by a stem student with adhd.

disclaimer!!! I’m by no means an expert in mental health or adhd but I do happen to have it. My intention with this post is to help others with adhd get more comfortable with studying so the process will be smoother for them!! At the end of the day, despite having the same disorder our brains will still work differently so do keep in mind that these may or may not help you, but are something you can try out if you’re stuck on not being able to study efficiently.

here’s some adhd study affirmations + tips on straying from discouragement if you’re experiencing burnout.

(And here’s part 2 of adhd study tips.)

I’ll start this off by listing more commonly known study tips that also work well with adhd.

change up your environment every now and then. we seek novelty even more than neurotypical people already do so switching it up will definitely help in our studies, especially if the place is well lit!

try some questions of the topic you’re trying to learn even when you know nothing about it. both neurotypical and neurodivergent brains are hardwired to remember things when we are proven wrong, and this is a great way of utilizing this neurological response!

take walks, exercise or stretch during your breaks. this tip is very effective at satiating our hyperactivity and also keeps us energized throughout our study session.

keep a notebook for your brain dump / ideas. we always either think of really stupid things or the most brilliant ideas in the middle of our study sessions and it almost always leads to distraction, but writing it down somewhere lets your brain know that the idea isn’t going anywhere and you can continue studying.

now, onto the tips that have personally helped with my adhd (and I haven’t seen many others talk about.)

alternate between various study plans, routines, schedules and techniques and always be open to finding more of them. majority of the time people always say ‘have a routine that works for you and stick with it’ but our adhd brains get bored very quickly, especially when it comes to repeated routines and schedules. I personally never stick to the same routine or plan more than three days in a row and sometimes I even make a plan on the spot and I’ve been more productive doing that than when I had only one or two study routines to switch between.

do not time yourself at the very beginning. Instead, focus on something in your studies you’re interested in and start there. what do I mean by this? well, since starting is always the hardest, when we begin our very first pomodoro we might find ourselves spending the first 25 minutes zoning out on a textbook just to get that ‘study time’ in even though you didn’t actually learn or recall anything. So to combat this, begin with something you’re genuinely curious about, or ask a question you can’t help but wonder the answer to. Once you find the answer, you might find you’re more in the zone and can continue from there. If not, take a short break and begin the pomodoros afterwards.

if you’re zoning out while reading up on a topic, try walking around while reading, looking at different sources on it or do some questions on that topic. again, novelty always gets us every time. sometimes the problem may be that the explanation in front of you isn’t making sense in your head and other sources may phrase things in a way that is better for your understanding. perhaps the problem is that you’re staying too still and you need to satisfy the hyperactive part of your adhd. or maybe your brain subconsciously believes that they already know what needs to be known about this topic, and there’s no better way to test that by trying out some questions on it.

switch between lyrical and non-lyrical music playlists, but make sure the lyrical music inspires you to excel. this definitely won’t apply to a lot of people but I found that when I constantly listened to piano, lo-fi or just non-lyrical music while studying in general, it actually promoted my likelihood of zoning out. but recently I found a playlist I deeply resonated with that was related to my studies called, ‘pov : a try-hard mid student who wants to ace everything’ and because I related very deeply with both the title and the lyrics of the songs, I was actively being encouraged to study as I was studying. but I also recognize when I really need to think in certain areas and that’s when I switch back to the non-lyrical music.

this is all I have as of right now but please do lmk if you guys want more of these!! I really wanna help out as much people as possible because my studies suffered greatly due to both my adhd and my late diagnosis of it and I’d love to help out others going through something similar.

#stem #science #study tips #study #study hard #studyblr #studyinspo #study motivation #studystudystudy #studygram #study guide #study gram #adhd problems #adhd #actually adhd #adhd stuff #adhd things #adhd tips #living with adhd #adhd study tips #adhd student #adhd struggles

[hopeyarts]

Are you on that Starboy crap?

I’m going to assume that you don’t like Starboy. If you do actually like him, then I don’t detect it anywhere here. It’s things like these that make me backoff from sharing stuff about Starboy, because in truth I like the idea of it. But ultimately, I can’t please everyone so whatever.

Firstly, I’d like to address in defense of those who love Starboy and as said from Star’s section in the concept book, the first phase was a series of Star in various human forms. Star’s young Sabino form is the THIRD phase. So don’t try to use the excuse of ‘Starboy being Sabino’. Read, please. Respectfully.

Anyways, if you haven’t already figured it out, I like to look at different routes. I can’t stick to just one, so I make multiple routes with multiple scenarios and storylines and characterizations. So I guess this is a good time to address both my opinion on Starboy and my ideas for Star in general.

I think Starboy would’ve been an adorable addition. He’s great, the ship between him and Asha is great, and every redesign I’ve seen of him just makes me love him more. I’m aesthetically drawn to characters at this point, which is a reason I like designing. The only thing that I question about Starboy is his own story. I don’t typically like the idea of him being *the* wishing star, but rather an extension or ‘child’ of the Blue Fairy. Him being childish and curious would be supported by that idea, because you can’t really rely on a higher power if that higher power is reliant on you teaching him about Earth.

So I like the idea of Starboy, but not the story of him being the sole wishing star. He can be childish and curious under the circumstances that the Blue Fairy is highest power/wishing star. I mentioned this in my illustration of the Blue Fairy, so.

Anyways, ideas for Star!

Because I see a lot of people already have the idea of Asha x Starboy in their works (love them all 💖), I decided to think of more paths we could’ve taken with Star in general. You can refer back to the Art of Wish book for all of his forms, but I’ll go into ones that I’m renovating into my own ideas.

• Starchild: I have two ideas for this. A: What if Star was a child? When we were younger, we wished for many things and dreamed of many dreams. Maybe Star could’ve been a child, because of my idea with Star being a ‘child’ of the Blue Fairy, Asha calling down Star right then and there could’ve been the start of his new life. It’s like him being born when he’s sent down to Earth. And it’s a reference to how wishes and wonder can seem childish, but good-intentioned. His magic is almost chaotic-like, so it could add on. Then B: What if Star was a younger version of ASHA? Don’t really know how this would work, but really Star would’ve been a manifestation of Asha’s younger self (typically when she wished for her father to get better). It’s like connecting with your inner child and rekindling your dreams. That’s just a small idea.

• Platonic Star: Could be of any gender, I don’t really care. But what if Star was just platonically involved with Asha? I know Wish was never going to be a romance story, so they could’ve just of had Star be humanoid but have them still be friends. I’m sure someone already has this idea for a rewrite somewhere.

• Sole Star: An idea where Star *is* the wishing star but is mature and an adult and with no specific gender. Maybe a little feminine to act as Asha’s maternal figure? If I wouldn’t go with this idea, then I’d have had the Blue Fairy be Asha’s maternal figure. Sorry, Sakina (I should make a rant post about Sakina and Sabino 💀🙏🏽 I kinda got beef with them).

I’m okay with Star being the thing we got officially, but come on. They could’ve added more to the character. Like depth? Clarification about what exactly it is? A star sure, but what else? The one star song didn’t answer any of Asha’s questions nor ours. Was it just born when Asha wished upon it because she’s the first one to do so? Sighing. Disney.

Favorite Star concepts:

Least favorite…:

What a jumpscare.

Despite the possible dislike of Starboy, thank you for the ask. 💖

#wish #disney wish #wish 2023 #wish movie #disney asha #asha #wish asha #wishing star #wish star #disney star #disney wishing star #wish starboy #starboy #disney starboy #asha x starboy #concept art #concept ideas #star wish #wish fandom #anon ask #anonymous #hopeyarts #fyp #fypシ

[chickinscratch]

The second hermit affected was, shockingly, not Jevin.

The small group arrived below the large slimy pig, at the home of the not-as-large slimy slime, and cautiously knocked. Within a few moments, Jevin arrived at the door, eyeing the four that stood before him.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. “What’s up?”

“Oh good, you’re not more of a pile of goo than usual.” Cleo noted.

“...Was that a concern that we were having?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Zedaph recounted the situation thus-far, pausing for Jevin to react appropriately with a variety of “hmms,” “mhms,” and “That explains the death messages”s. “-So that leaves the question, why aren’t you more, erm, slimy than usual?”

Jevin shrugged. “Mimicking other mobs is pretty standard slime behavior. I guess if I am affected by whatever this is, I already act enough like any other slime that it doesn’t matter? Though if any of you get too close I will probably absorb you for nutrients, and that won’t be too pleasant.”

“Noted. Keep us posted if you notice yourself becoming concerningly more viscous or anything of the like. We should probably go check on some more of the others to make sure no one else is exploding or absorbing other Hermits for nutrients.”

“Good luck with that - who were you going to check on next?”

“We were thinking Grian,” Cleo produced the list they had compiled from her inventory. “Then probably Gem, since we already have Doc and Zed accounted for. Have you seen either of them?”

Jevin tapped his chin thoughtfully, which was only moderately successful given his consistency. “I haven’t seen Gem - She’d probably be working on her megabase with Impulse and Pearl. I did see Grian flying around here earlier - I think he was pecking at Scar and pushed him into a hole? But that’s pretty average for them so I dunno if it was related to whatever’s going on. Pretty sure he flew off back towards his rift thing though.”

“We should definitely check there first, then, I think.” Cleo returned the list to their inventory. “In the nicest way possible, I don’t trust Grian messing with weird eldritch whatever on a good day, let alone potentially in some kind of full bird-brain mode.”

“I do believe eldritch interference under the influence of avian is illegal in several states.” Joe added.

“Then you should probably all get to dealing with that.” Jevin waved. “Good luck!”

The band of Hermits arrived at the tor that Grian had claimed for his megabase, scouting for any signs of him. Instead, they found Mumbo. “Hello,” Mumbo greeted as the group landed atop one of the giant rocks that formed the landscape.

“Mumbo,” Cleo greeted in return. “Why are you laying on top of a boulder?”

“Grian has decided I’m actually a stick, and also part of his nest.”

“What?”

“I guess I look kind of twiggish?” Mumbo sighed, awkwardly shuffling from the large pile of miscellaneous sticks and branches he was stuck within. “I knew I was spindly and all, but I didn’t think Grian would literally use me as a stick. He was very insistent on it, too.”

“Why is Grian building a nest?” Zedaph eyed the construction eagerly.

“I think he’s trying to hatch his base.”

“What?!” Cleo repeated.

“And also those easter egg things.” Mumbo added. “Those are definitely in this pile somewhere.”

“Why is he trying to hatch his base?” Cleo’s voice pitched. “Isn’t he messing with interdimensional junk this season? Should we be concerned?”

“I think he just thinks the boulder is an egg, honestly.” Mumbo shrugged, which was quite awkward to accomplish from his position betwixt the twigs. “It is kind of egg-shaped. Also he keeps giving boulders heartbeats, which probably doesn’t help. Not that I’m opposed to bases with heartbeats; I’m quite familiar with those.”

“Y’know,” Zedaph mused, “That does explain how he talked about The Entity like it was alive. Maybe he thought that was an egg too.” “It is another decently egg-shaped boulder.” Mumbo agreed.

Joe peered at the pile of sticks composing Grian’s ‘nest’. As Mumbo had described, the easter eggs were indeed nestled inside the Grian-sized entrance. “I would have expected Grian to nest in a tree, given parrots are arboreal. In fact, especially because they usually nest in pre-existing spaces. I wonder why he didn’t just move into Scar’s base or something?”

“I guess he just decided it was easier to build a nest here rather than try to move a boulder.” Mumbo craned his neck to face Joe with limited success.

“That is perfectly logical.”

“So we can safely say Grian also caught whatever bug Doc has, right?” Cleo said.

Ren shrugged. “Honestly, I could see Grian doing this normally.”

“There’s a bug going around?” Mumbo strained to look above shoe-level.

“Cleo, snakes eat eggs, right?” Joe asked.

“There are very much no eggs here, but yes.” Cleo huffed.

“Are you noticing any of those instinct things Zedaph had mentioned?”

“Again, there are no eggs, so no, I am not. In fact, I’m pretty sure those easter eggs are just more rocks painted to look like Grian. I like to consider myself a pretty reliable expert on rocks.”

“Can your expertise determine how egg-like a rock is?” Mumbo asked from the ground.

A few of Cleo’s hair-snakes hissed exasperatedly. “Shape-wise, that’s more of an opinion, though yes, these rocks are approximately egg-shaped. Physically, the most egg-like rock would probably be limestone or something, since it’s calcium carbonate.”

“Is this limestone?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Not a very eggy egg-shaped boulder then.” Mumbo huffed.

“Has Grian been here recently?” Zedaph interjected again.

“He comes and goes from here every few minutes. He’s mostly just been collecting sticks.”

“Out of curiosity, would you say he’s been acting at all any more, perhaps, parrotish?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s built me into a nest.”

“Honestly, that could also just as easily be perfectly normal Grian behavior.” Joe noted.

“I am actively being used as building material!”

“Again, not necessarily out of the ordinary. Maybe he mistook you for a redstone block or torch, given how much redstone you usually consume?”

“Honestly, fair enough. I wouldn’t be surprised if I actually emitted a signal at this point-”

Zedaphs ears perked up. “Can we test that?”

“-But I think there are bigger concerns to focus on right now.”

A shrill squawk interrupted their slightly derailed conversation as a very puffed-up Grian landed on top of his nest. And by extension, Mumbo. “Ow.” Mumbo mumbled. Grian ignored him, flaring his wings and tail feathers at the collected group and hissing. Cleo’s snakes helpfully hissed back.

“Huh, I forgot that parrots hiss.” Zedaph said.

“Leave.”

“Oh, fantastic! You’re still verbal. We were having issues communicating with Doc-”

“LEAVE.” Grian fluttered to atop Mumbo’s head, which prompted a new bout of complaints from the designated-stick-and-now-perch. Grian pecked at him a few times until he quieted.

“Mumbo,” Joe sidestepped to stand between the nest and other Hermits. “Since Grian has apparently accepted you as part of his nest, perhaps you could help explain the situation to him?”

“I can try my best,” Mumbo grumbled, Grian’s talons tapping at his head each time he made a noise. “But I make no promises.”

“We appreciate any effort you can provide.”

“Grian-” Mumbo winced at another round of pecks. “Grian. Hey, buddy-” he whistled, which Grian rightened and quirked his head at, giving some reprieve to the pecking. “It’s okay. They’re not here to mess with your definitely, totally real eggs that are not rocks. They’re just here to talk to you.”

Grian squinted suspiciously at the collected group, but seemed to at least calm down enough to listen. He ducked inside the nest, settling delicately atop the easter eggs of himself as if it were a throne, and glared out at the group. “Fine. Continue.”

“They mentioned some kind of bug, or something…? What was the bug thing?”

“Ah, yes,” Zedaph clapped. “You see, earlier Ren found Doc behaving strangely, which resulted in both of them exploding a few times. I had also been feeling a bit strangely this morning, and Jevin and Cleo mentioned potential behavioral changes as well, so I propose a theory that whatever cause Doc’s current condition may be impacting some of the other less humanoid members of the server.”

“Well I feel perfectly fine.”

Cleo’s hair-snakes bristled. “Grian. You are using Mumbo as a stick.”

“He is a stick.”

“You’re nesting on top of painted rocks.”

“Eggs.”

“Those are very much rocks.”

“Your snake tricks won’t work on me. I won’t let you eat them.”

“I am literally a geologist, Grian.”

“And these are eggs.”

“Can we go back to Doc?” Cleo sighed. “He was much easier to reason with.”

“I kind of prefer not blowing up. Again.” Ren added.

“I can still blow you up if you want.” Grian offered.

“No thank you.”

“Probably for the best.” Grian preened at his feathers. “Wouldn’t want the nest to get damaged.”

“As the nest, I appreciate that.” Mumbo said.

“Quiet, stick.”

“Grian,” Cleo took a deep breath, “Maybe you could let Mumbo stop being a stick for a little bit?”

Grian gasped. “Mumbo is an integral stick to the nest! The entire thing would be destroyed if he left! I smell your snakey tricks! You can’t fool me!”

“I am not trying to eat your dumb- rrrgh!”

“This is rather uncomfortable, Grian.” Mumbo whined. “I have splinters.”

“Well of course you do. That’s how sticks work.”

“Griaaan-”

“Don’t tell me you’ve sided with them!”

“Listen, Grian, I will accept being classified as a redstone component, but I think I’ve decided being a stick is a bit much for me! It’s a lot of commitment!”

“Well you’ve got to at least wait until they’ve hatched.”

Cleo made a strangled noise. “They’re ROCKS-!”

“Hey!” Grian squawked. “I’m the egg expert here.”

“SNAKES LAY EGGS TOO!”

“Yeah, but snake eggs are all squishy and gross. My eggs are strong and beautiful. It’s no wonder you think they’re stone. I forgive you for your confusion; it’s a very easy mistake to make.”

Cleo shouted indistinctly, though not indecipherably. Joe found it very decipherable. After all, he was very familiar with Cleo’s miscellaneous grumbles of exasperation and frustration. Many of them were often directed towards him. “What if we came to a compromise?’ Joe offered. “I notice the top of this here boulder-”

“Egg.”

“-Egg, yes, is quite barren and cold.”

Grian nodded. “That’s why Mumbo is such an important stick. He helps keep the nest warm.”

“I’m cold.” Mumbo grumbled.

“What if we helped you relocate your eggs somewhere nice and warm, and perhaps more enclosed? They’d be much safer than up here, and Mumbo could take a break for a little bit.”

Grian shuffled thoughtfully. “...And Cleo wouldn’t eat them?”

“I know just the place where Cleo will absolutely never go.”

"I’m gonna need more convincing.”

“Joe, Mumbo, and I can help carry your eggs, so you don’t have to worry about Cleo or Ren eating them.” Zedaph added. “And I’ll even throw in some of my wool.”

“What about the big egg? I can’t move that one.”

“We could shrink it.”

“You can shrink it?” Grian tilted his head curiously.

“You can shrink it?” Cleo repeated.

“I am a scientist and procurer of extravagant devices; Of course I can shrink it- though we will need to remove your nest and the other eggs from it first.”

“Deal. But if you’re tricking me I’ll kill you.”

“No tricks, my feathered friend.” Zedaph placed a solemn hoof-hand to his heart. “I am entirely invested in the safety of your eggs. Now, you, Mumbo, and Joe take your eggs to ground-level while I prepare for The Shrinkening.”

“And Ren and I will just… stand a reasonable distance away, I suppose.” Cleo muttered, already launching off. Ren and Zedaph took off following her, leaving Joe to help untangle Mumbo from his stick prison. 

Grian watched the process like a hawk (or, like a parrot?), cradling his eggs and intensely micromanaging the careful dissection of his nest around Mumbo as to preserve as much as possible (rather than allow Mumbo to simply sit upright). Once Mumbo was free, Grian gingerly distributed the “eggs” as though they were the most precious cargo in the world. Upon close inspection, Joe could confirm they were in fact just some painted rocks Jevin had used in the egg hunt. One at least seemed to be potentially made of limestone, so it probably scored closer to being a real egg than any of the rest.

The trio landed in the forest a little ways from the foot of the main tor. Mumbo stretched liberally, making an assortment of cracking noises that made Joe consider some truth to Grian’s observations of Mumbo being a stick. “I was laying there for hours.” Mumbo sighed. “This is so much better.”

“How would you rate your experience on a scale of ‘minorly’ to ‘quite pants?’” Joe asked.

“I can kill this season, you know.”

“Okay, but how would you rate it?” Ren asked, trotting up to join them. Cleo followed closely behind.

“... It was at least decently pants.”

“Hah, you said the thing.” Cleo smirked.

“This is just not my day, is it?”

Zedaph emerged from the trees, hurrying to join the gaggle of Hermits. “Alright, everyone! Who’s ready for The Shrinkening?”

“You’re certain this is entirely safe, right?” Grian drew his eggs closer to his chest.

“Of course. I would never put your absolutely gargantuan egg in any danger. Now, the process will be a bit strange, but you must trust me, alright?”

“Alright…” Grian cradled his eggs with blatant uncertainty.

“Now, you’ll all have to face away, because witnessing The Shrinkening would be very bad for your retinas, but when I count to three the egg will be shrunk! And also, conveniently replaced with an identical boulder of equivalent size and mass, so as to not disrupt the environment.” Cleo stifled a snicker.

“...This sounds like a trick.” Grian squinted at Zedaph.

“No, no, no! You must trust The Shrinkening. Now, everybody turn around.” The collected Hermits obliged.

“One,” Zedaph counted. “Two… THREE!”

They collectively turned back, Grian practically whipping around to face whatever Zedaph had done. Nothing looked different, save for Zedaph holding aloft… a small, ovoid rock, the same colors as the boulder behind him. Cleo doubled over, wheezing quietly in an effort not to cackle aloud. Grian simply inched cautiously towards Zed, reaching out for the “egg.” Zedaph ceremoniously placed it into his awaiting palm. “One shrunken egg, perfectly transportable and safe.”

Grian stared at the “egg.” Joe could practically see avian and player halves of his brain at war, trying to decide if they had been fooled or not. Finally, Grian gave the rock a gentle kiss and nestled it with the rest of the clutch. Cleo wheezed loudly off to the side.

“Alright,” Grian huffed, turning to Joe. “You promised me a better nest spot. Where is it.”

“Of course, right this way.”

#hermitcraft #grian #mumbo jumbo #mumbojumbo #zombiecleo #zedaph #hermitcraft ensemble #would tag Joe since he's the POV but he doesnt talk much in this one #i didnt expect to default to Joe POV so often but here i am i guess #fanfic #chicken scratch #long post // #Mob Mentality #THE SERIES HAS A NAME NOW YAY #VERY dialogue-heavy this one. i tend to do that a lot. #this is already a very self-indulgent fic cause i like worldbuilding exploration #particularly with player-mob/hybrid behaviors cause like. if theyre gonna be hybrids why *not* #but this chapter in particular is probably my favorite so far just out of Excuse To Write Silly Bird People. aka my favorite. #also this group's dialogue habits are very fun for me to write

[cocozydiaries]

Hi! Please answer im very curious. When you shift, why would you come back? Anybody can have a much better life in a better and more healthy reality than this one, so why not permashift? Sorry if it came out rude, i just really wanna know

dwww you didn’t sound rude at all. Also i just like to put it out there i am not an expert on this and haven't even shifted yet so take this with a grain of salt. Personally i do think a lot of people have already permashifted and plan on doing so. Like a lot more than you might think.

kinda long post

People who have permashifted here:

I’m not sure about you all but i've already seen plenty of people talk about how they’ve shifted to this reality.

A lot of people for some reason seem to find this really weird. Why shift here of all places? But it makes sense to me. My life can always be completely different to someone else’s. So to you it might seem like this reality isn’t all that great but to someone else their situation in this reality could be completely different to their old one. So it makes sense they shift somewhere where their own life is different.

Future plans?:

I think for most people they plan on permashifting at some point in the future. I know i plan on doing that too! Although i honestly think i’ll probably live a lot of different lives in all sorts of different places without any understanding of shifting just so i can rediscover it. Seems fun and all🤭

Manifesting:

Tbh i’m not sure if people agree with this but i’ve always considered manifesting is a type of shifting.

The way i think about it people shift to a reality where they have whatever it is they manifested. And so with that logic i think that would mean they permashifted to a reality where they have what they manifested, right?

Honestly like i said i haven’t shifted YET so i’m not an expert on it or anything and this is my own person opinion so anyone can definitely add onto this if they do or don’t agree! I’m totally open to hearing other opinions and whatnot.

also i’m so sorry i probably could've phrased this better but still i hope this helps!

#asks #shiftblr #reality shift #shifting realities #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting #reality shifters #shifters #reality shifter

[mychoombatheroomba]

Dehumanizing

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 24

Leon has a conversation with Krauser.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

“Major?” Leon watched as Krauser’s attention turned to him, blond brows pinching together. 

“What is it, rookie?” He didn’t seem happy to be disturbed. Drills were done for the day. The Major probably wanted to head back to his barracks, turn on his music and forget the poor fools he’d spent the day training. 

But Leon had other plans. 

“I wanted to speak with you.” 

And, despite his clear reluctance, Krauser eventually led Leon back to his office, settling into his chair with an unwillingness that might have made someone think he was being held at gunpoint. “Let’s hear it, rookie. I’m missing dinner. And so are you.” 

“Why haven’t you told the rest about the bioweapons? The ones I fought in Raccoon City?” Leon wasted no time. 

Krauser just looked at him, and Leon couldn’t help but think that the deadpan look he gave was one he’d seen on you, before. 

“You want me to go around spilling classified information?” The Major sounded somewhere between amused and annoyed. 

“It shouldn’t be something the government kept from you,” Leon said, his voice assured. “It shouldn’t be something you keep from the rest of them.” 

Krauser narrowed his eyes, and the air around him seemed to darken a touch as the Major’s mood soured. But still, as he looked at Leon, he sighed and let his head drop a bit. “Look, rookie, no one knows that better than me. But if you think Uncle Sam isn’t gonna bring hell down on me for handing that information out without permission-”

“Major, respectfully, I don’t care if they’re happy or not. They cannot fight the things you’ve been training us to fight as well if they don’t even know they exist.” 

Krauser just looked at him, then. Scoffed. Shook his head. “You did just fine in Raccoon City without a day of experience,” he pointed out. “The Sergeant survived, having never seen any of that shit before-”

“And no one else on base did.” Leon shook his head. “The RPD was wiped out. The military took losses. Even Umbrella’s own mercenaries couldn’t survive in Raccoon City-”

“And they probably knew better than you what to expect there. Your point is?” 

“My point is that we need every edge we can get. They need every edge.” The radio might not have been loud enough to cover the raised voice Leon spoke in. Krauser seemed like he was going to match that energy, to snarl a response. Instead, the Major kept his voice low, his eyes narrowed. 

“If I tell something they don’t want out in the open, they have other people who will replace me here. People who won’t have my tolerance for your bullshit.” Krauser leaned towards him, bracing his arms against the desk. 

“I understand that, sir,” Leon said, stepping forward. Matching the Major. Showing him that he wouldn’t back down. “But that doesn’t change the fact that telling them what they’re up against will make them better prepared for them surviving it.”

“Kid, I’m not out to get court-martialed. And you shouldn’t be, either.”

“They already strong-armed me into service,” Leon said then, his tone harsh. “They’re not going to throw me out. So, I don’t really give a shit what they want to do to me.” 

Krauser frowned. Nodded. “Well, lucky you. I tend to give a shit if I’m going to lose my job.” 

“Your job is, as of right now, to make sure the men and women out there are equipped to fight Umbrella. You can’t do that if you’re not giving them the whole picture.” 

It was a hail Mary play. High risk, high reward. Leon didn’t think that the government could punish him in a worse way that they already had, but Krauser could make life a living hell. Even so, even knowing that risk, Leon spoke the words anyway because it was the best thing he could do. He could only make his point, and wait for the Major’s reply. And he waited a while, as Krauser’s eyes bored into Leon’s skull. 

“You’re right.” There was a moment of silence as Krauser grimaced, clearly displeased about what he was about to say. “And I’m going to do what I can. See if I can bypass some of this red tape.” 

Leon . . . hadn’t expected that. Krauser had never admitted that Leon was right about anything before. It settled his nerves, though, and the younger man nodded. “Thank you, Major.” 

Krauser just frowned, waving his hand. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a pain in the ass. Get out of here.”

Leon didn’t need to be told twice, and nodded, taking his leave. Or, rather, he was about to when the Major spoke up again. 

“And rookie?” Leon stopped just before he reached the door. “Careful with this. You’re a good soldier but be careful thinking rules don’t apply to you.” Krauser didn’t sound angry. There was no accusation in the words. Just fact. “It doesn’t matter what you survived. You’re an asset to the government, and they want to hold on to that asset, but you have entire squads of people out there training for the same thing you are.” He gestured with his chin towards the window, towards the rest of the base outside. “You’re valuable to them, but only so long as you play by their rules.” 

Leon nodded, and something in the Major’s eyes made him wonder if he was talking strictly about this conversation . . . but if he meant anything more by the words, he didn’t specify it, and Leon left the office behind. 

And even if he believed that Krauser would do what he could . . . Leon could only focus on his anger. The injustice of it. They’d forced him into this, and now they weren’t giving the others the tools they needed to survive it. 

You’re an asset. 

You’re valuable to them, but only so long as you play by their rules.

None of you were people, to them. You were all a means to an end. Just as the bioweapons Umbrella made were. Monstrosities that the US would have been content to trade Umbrella for, if Raccoon City hadn’t happened. They were all just pawns. Him. You. Krauser. Everyone on this base. Pawns. Weapons. Tools.

And suddenly, he desperately needed to feel like a human. 

So he headed towards the one person who could give him that feeling.                 

⧫⧫⧫

“So?” You were waiting in the training yard, alone. When you saw Leon’s stormy expression, his brows low and shadowing his eyes, you were glad that it was just you. That the two of you might be able to talk in peace, with just the sound of the radio inside the barracks to accompany whatever conversation you were about to have. “What’d he say?” 

Leon just shrugged. “Said he’d do his best. Try and get as much information released to us as he could.” 

He was upset about something. That was easy to see. “Then what went wrong?” 

For a moment, Leon didn’t say anything, shaking his head and letting out a breath. “Nothing. Just thinking about some things.” 

You nodded, examining him for a moment. “You want to talk about it?” 

Leon paused, and you could see that, as much as he did want to, something was holding him back. Maybe it was the now-open window into the officer’s barracks, where the music from Krauser’s radio drifted out. “No.” He finally answered. “Let’s go to the range.” 

You of all people knew what it was to turn to such things when the mind was at war. To arm oneself for that fight. So you nodded. You’d been hoping to fight with knives tonight, just the two of you. Hoping that, perhaps, after it got dark, you could steal a moment with him. But if your focus came at the end of a blade, then Leon’s, it seemed, came looking down the sights of a handgun. So, you let him lead the way. 

Having spent the last few months of your life on this base, it didn’t take you long to realize that he was not, in fact, going the way he should be. 

But he was leading you towards the mess hall. 

“Think you’re headed the wrong way, Kennedy,” you pointed out with a slight smile. 

He stopped, looking back at you with a look that was softer than the one he’d given earlier. Almost boyish, and beautiful. “No,” he said, stepping closer, keeping his voice low. “I’m headed right where I want to be.” 

And against reason and wariness, you felt your heart skip a beat - because since that first night, since you’d felt him kiss his way down your body, you’d wanted nothing but to be alone with him again. To feel your skin against his. To be with him. You’d both waited long enough. 

So you shook your head, humming a soft laugh. “Alright then,” you said, looking into those beautiful eyes of his. “Lead the way.” 

And then you followed him into the gathering dark. 

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Chapter Index

A/N: Next chapter will be NSFW!

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n

[itsclydebitches]

I haven’t read a whole lot of TMA fic, so I’m sure this already exists somewhere, but I really want a time travel fic where Jon goes back to Gertrude’s era.

So it’s 2007-ish, before his younger counterpart has started working at the Institute, but years into Elias and Gertrude’s tenure. They’re having a normal day serving the semi-omniscient fear god when a fucking full-fledged avatar of the Beholding - complete with a small mountain of tapes - falls through a rift in space-time and crash lands on Gertrude’s desk.

(Season 5 Jon might have decided not to kill Helen and instead used her to get here. If he ever sees her again they’re going to have A Talk™ about her choice of transportation.)

For the record, a hot mess of a man falling from the sky indoors is only like... the eighth most interesting thing to happen to Gertrude this week. Still, it’s clear he’s not entirely human - one gets a sense for these things, even without a giant eyeball’s help - and she’s got a knife on him faster than you can say “Statement.” This doesn’t seem to faze the man.

That annoys the fuck out of Gertrude.

Meanwhile, Elias has nearly passed out from the supernatural alarm bells going off in his head because the Ceaseless Watcher’s special little boy is here!!! What does that mean? Hell if he knows, but this man is ALIGHT with the Entities’ marks, just dripping with the power of the Eye, and Elias finds he has the sudden urge to drop to his knees before this stranger, something he’s only ever done post-Watcher’s Crown.

(This might be a Jonlias fic, whoops.)

Elias, seeing The Archivist for the first time: 😍😍😍😍😍

Gertrude, seeing The Archivist for the first time: 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

So after introductions Jon is all, “Yes, I’m an eldritch monster that’s forced to feed off the trauma of others, but I’m your eldritch monster. Please, Gertrude, I’d like nothing more than to carve out Magnus’ heart with you so he can’t destroy the whole fucking world.”

Elias, suddenly experiencing true fear for the first time in decades, feeding the Eye and being fed in turn and basically entering a feedback loop where this powerful stranger threatening to murder him is the hottest thing he’s ever Seen: !!!!! 💖💞😱!!!!!🤩😊💚!!!!!

And at first Gertrude’s like hell no, not having any more goddamn avatars in my archives thank you, but then the trio passes young intern Sasha James (shhh don’t worry if that fits the timeline) and Jon looses it. The hold that the Stranger had on him in his original timeline has broken and he’s able to recognize this as the real Sasha - her face, her voice, her very panicked looks towards her bosses as this random man sobs into her shoulder. And Gertrude’s like dammit, clearly The Archivist still has some of his humanity left. No true Fear monster would ever willingly be that embarrassing.

After prying Jon away from Sasha and promising her a raise to avoid any HR reports, they get the whole long, traumatic story out of him, but any plans to just permanently kill Elias kinda... sputter out. It’s a little bit of a Web thing, a little bit of a time travel thing, and a little bit of Jon just feeling... wrong when he considers it, no matter what he’s told Gertrude. It’s similar to when he let Annabelle live, though Elias has done absolutely fuck-all to earn his mercy. This confuses Jon, though it’s pretty far down on his list of worries.

The good news is that Jon’s mere presence puts a permanent wrench in Elias’ plans. He’s never going to repeat the ritual to open the door, obviously, and good fucking luck marking another archivist while he’s Watching. Given Jon’s suspicions that he became semi-immortal after waking from his coma, he’ll be Watching a damn long time, you megalomaniacal bastard.

The bad news is that since Elias can no longer plot an intricate manipulation, he’s decided that the next best thing is to just convince Jon to bring about the end of the world willingly.

By wooing him.

Elias: “We can be Kings of a ruined world together, Jon~”

Gertrude: “I am not paid enough for this.”

So begins the office romance comedy of Jon’s nightmares, where instead of hating him for ruining his world domination plans, Elias is smitten - in a suave, very creepy kinda way - and has decided that he’ll simply wait Jon out, wearing him down until the inevitable day when he realizes that they were meant to be. A full-fledged Archivist was dropped into his lap, ranting about how he out-foxed a future version of Elias, tormented by his own monstrosity, and people expected his narcissistic ass to not fall head over heels with his own creation?? As if.

Jon is Not Having A Good Time.

Originally when he landed here he was all, “Where is my Martin whom I love so dearly? Where is the support and companionship that I crave?” But after ‘bumping into’ him a few times outside the Institute, Jon comes to the bitter conclusion that whatever connection they had is gone. He recalls Martin’s firm belief that they never would have become a couple without all the trauma they’d been through and though this time around Jon definitely doesn’t hate him... he doesn’t love him either. Oh, he loves that he exists, seeing Martin whole and blissfully ignorant of the Fears helps heal something in Jon, but it takes him a very long time to admit that he’s too nice. Too caring. Too tentative in his insecurity. Jon grinds his teeth and admits in the privacy of his own thoughts that he was attracted to a bastard version of Martin, one who showed off a little bit of his own monstrosity, was connected to his own domain, could cut just as cruelly with his words as Jon could with his powers... Meeting with him now over coffee, inches away, Jon has never felt farther from him. This Martin simply isn’t a part of the world that created Jon.

Good, he decides and firmly steers Martin away from the Institute. Thanks to some blackmail and Peter Lukas’s money, Martin finds himself with a caretaker for his mom and the promise of a full ride through whatever creative writing program he can get into.

Meanwhile, Elias is of course stalking and spying on Jon whenever he can, doing the metaphorical equivalent of doodling hearts in his notebook whenever he catches a glimpse of why Jon no longer connects with Martin. He’s a bastard avatar with shitty morals and, frankly, far better taste in poetry. Open your third eyes, Jon!!

Gertrude, who avoided sacrificing Michael after a stern talking to from Jon: “You sure you don’t want the Spiral to eat you, kid? Anything’s better than watching this clusterfuck.”

Michael: 🙃🙃🙃

After a while the Institute settles into a new kind of normal. Jon, Gertrude, and Michael defend the archives from the slew of enemies they’ve both amassed, stopping the occasional ritual in their free time. Jon has long come to the conclusion that the Fears couldn’t have originated here - not with the Eye being unable to see its own creation - so starving them in this reality at the expense of their world wouldn’t serve the greater good. The best they can do is continually contain them - which they’ve gotten real good at. Elias continues to bother Jon with a fervor that’s almost admirable (he can see how this guy managed plans for upwards of 200 years) and waffles between playing the Mysterious Boss archetype that he’d used on Jon the first time around, and just giving in to the utter adoration he feels whenever Jon is in the room. It’s clear he’s long since started worshiping Jon rather than the Eye and the Eye is... totally fine with that?

Gertrude: “How did you get the Ceaseless Watcher to treat you like a favored child?”

Jon: Trauma?? 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

After seeing how much happier Martin is, Jon guides the rest of his former assistants away from the Institute, Sasha included. It helps, a little, but it also makes him even more isolated than he was the first time around.

Gertrude realizes this, so when Elias’ flirting - “I’ve found a fresh statement for you, Jon. Oh do stop glaring, it’s just a bit of chloroform. She’ll wake up soon. You can’t be satisfied with stale writings for forever” - starts inducing more fond annoyance than fear or horror, she becomes #Concerned.

Gertrude: “You realize that desensitizing you to his actions was the point all along, right?”

Jon: “Mmhm. But is it still manipulation if I know it’s manipulation?”

Gertrude: “You cannot possibly be considering this.”

Jon: “Would it help if I admitted that dating Elias wouldn’t be the worst decision I’ve ever made?”

Gertrude: “NO.”

The thing is, Jon liked Elias before he revealed himself to be an immortal body-snatcher hell-bent on creating... well, hell on Earth. He liked the soft academic exterior, his careful words, love of organization and attention to detail, the dry humor, cutting intellect, those suits that likely cost more than three months of his salary combined... In fact, Jon is now in a place to vividly remember the embarrassment he felt while interviewing for the archivist’s position, too busy avoiding looking at Elias’ lips to catch the hungry glint in his eye.

Of course, that Elias only exists as a veneer... though what was Jon’s “I’m just a normal man going grocery shopping, please ignore my scars and aborted grab as I resist demanding a statement from you” if not a veneer of its own? Where did their ‘real’ selves begin and their conscious choices end? The most awful thing about all this is that Elias is right. Oh, not about them being Kings of a ruined world, but about how no one but another avatar can truly understand an avatar. By this point Jon is years past his coma, fully at peace - or at least, as at peace as he’ll ever get - with the fact that he chose to live as a monster rather than die as a human. That means Knowing things at his leisure... though he tries not to catch anything private. It means Compelling others to provide him with more knowledge... though he’s careful with his questions around friends. It means Feeding off of others’ worst moments in life... though Jon restricts himself to statements that Gertrude has collected first, so that he never haunts anyone’s dreams. And it means spending the majority of his time with other monsters and monster-aligned allies... though Jon plants his feet firmly in his human morals and refuses to budge.

If he can navigate all that, why not this too?

Elias has said more than once that he would make Jon the worst version of himself - said with such glee and promise as to almost, almost sound like something Jon wants. Jon figures that the worst version of Elias, from his perspective, would be to look a bit more human.

“We can bring out the worst in each other,” he agrees one day, followed by a shark-like grin.

Elias hasn’t the faintest idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

And that feels wonderful. Manipulating him into being a marginally better person who doesn’t bring about the apocalypse might actually be more satisfying than stabbing him. The Elias of Jon's original timeline would have HATED this and that makes Jon do a happy little wiggle whenever he thinks about it.

Gertrude: “You’re leashing a fucking dragon, Sims.”

Jon: “Better than letting it roam free.”

Gertrude: “Just so long as he doesn’t chew through the reins.”

Jon: “Yeah well, I’ll be the first one burned if that happens” and he holds up his charred hand with a shrug.

So begins the most messed up courting ritual the world has ever seen. Do they work as a couple? Oddly enough, yes. Amazingly well, in fact. Is it a healthy relationship? LOL yeah right. But then that’s rather the point. Jon gave up on that the day he acknowledged that, yes, a part of him liked being the most powerful being roaming a hellish landscape - liked not being vulnerable for once. Back when he’d first joined the Institute, post-breakup with Georgie, Jon couldn’t even imagine someone liking him enough to grab a drink after work. He’s past pretending that having the cult-like devotion of a lover, the favor of a Fear god, and the grudging respect of everything else that goes bump in the night isn’t really fucking nice.

Sometimes Elias plays the part of a compassionate human for Jon, as a treat. Sometimes Jon let’s Elias bask in another’s terror, as a treat. Sometimes Jon is Jonathan Sims and sometimes he’s The Archivist. “Let’s rule a burned-out world together” becomes a staple request in their relationship, with Jon always giving Elias the equivalent of a pat on the head and a, “Sure, honey. Maybe next week.” They find something like balance that way.

Plus there’s Gertrude, perpetually in the shadows with an arsenal of weaponry and the promise to obliterate them both if they ever go too far. She reminds Jon of his grandmother when she threatens to fuck them up in the afterlife if they ever make her kill them.

Something, something, dysfunctional eldritch found families are beautiful?

Jon and Elias have achieved something akin to an uncanny, domestic bliss when Elias points out that this body won’t last forever...

Jon Does Not Like the idea of Elias kidnapping another innocent.

However...

Jon: “You know Jurgen Leitner is living in the Institute’s tunnels, right?”

And they lived ever after. The “happily” is highly subjective.

Bonus:

Post-apocalypse!Jon meeting with Original!Jon to warn him away from the Institute, painfully thin ever since his coma, hip-length hair streaked unnaturally white, a slew of scars covering every available bit of skin, the slightest green glow behind his eyes, somehow looking supremely confident and powerful while also embodying the most Awkward Academic you’ve ever seen: Hey.

Og!Jon: G-good lord!

Jon: It’s okay. You can say ‘fuck.’ Please say ‘fuck,’ Jon. We deserve it.

#TMA #The Magnus Archives #TMA fic #Jonlias #Jon/Elias

[fullofgiggles]

This post/fic is for my best friend, but if you’re not her and you’ve stumbled across this, hello welcome

@switch-writer

over the course of the past few years you have been nothing short of an actual gem in my life. from our daily talks, to our watching of shows, i can’t think of anyone else that i’d rather spend my time with. you are my comfort person, the one i’d go to for anything, and it blows my mind that a community like the tword community was able to bring us together and create such an unbreakable bond between us.

as i’m writing this, it’s been over a year since we met up the first time, and since then, you’ve helped me improve so much. whether that be mentally, emotionally, with my writing, with my confidence, etc- you’ve helped me improve every aspect of my life.

with that being said, since you’ve indulged me so often the past few years by reading whatever i’ve written, and even posting one of my fics for me since i was too scared to do it myself, i felt it was time to repay that. i’ve been a while revising this, screwing up rough drafts, and figuring out characters- all the while trying to not stray too far out of character. so without further ado, i love you so much light switch👹👹 and i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. it might be on the shorter end, but still😅

may not be as many twords, but i just kinda wanted to write soft mihawk :))

An unexpected smile, xox, Ghost Princess

Although a calm day on Kuraigana Island, it wasn’t unusual. The warlord sat comfortably on a plush chair, taking his time as he flipped through the pages of the daily news.

What was unusual, however, was the fact that Mihawk hadn’t seen Perona in a solid three hours. It was already half past noon and he hadn’t heard a peep from the pink-haired nuisance. Usually she’d have peeked her head in to pester him or argue with him by now.

Despite that, Mihawk couldn’t really complain. He enjoyed the quiet, and he certainly enjoyed not having someone pester him every five minutes. Just as that thought crossed his mind, he directed his eyes up and away from the newspaper.

Surely he didn’t miss her- No. Definitely not. It was just quiet, something he hadn’t been used to since before Perona had taken refuge in his castle. It was almost sad how Mihawk had felt from the unexpected change in routine.

Wake up, brush teeth, brush hair, get food- And there, sitting across from him at the table, was usually Perona. Every time she opened her mouth to speak or laugh, Mihawk had felt a part of him shrink away as his daily bout of annoyance began. But today was different- Why hadn’t she joined him for breakfast or lunch so far?

Again, it’s not as though he cared at all. However, the thought did cross his mind that he should check on her. And so that was exactly what he did.

Walking through the halls of the castle, the warlord took his time getting to the Ghost Princess’s room. Once he got there, he rapped his hand three times on her door.

“Perona?”

No answer.

He knocked once more.

“Ghost girl? I haven’t heard from you all day.” He spoke, half mumbling his words. He didn’t exactly care, it was just out of the ordinary to not hear her high pitched squawking at this hour of the day.

Despite his knocking and calling of her name, there was still no movement nor noise from the other side of the door. Finally, the warlord huffed and slowly opened the door.

“Are you even in here?”

By looking around the room, he answered his own question. She wasn’t in there. In fact, he wasn’t even sure where she could be, because the chances are that she’d say something if she was headed somewhere.

Mihawk narrowed his eyes in confusion as he thought for a moment. How peculiar. First, he hadn’t heard from Perona by half past noon- She hadn’t showed up for breakfast or lunch. Her high pitched voice wasn’t heard ringing throughout the castle all day. And now she wasn’t even in her room?

The warlord shrugged, closing the door as he began to walk away. She was an adult, she could handle herself. It wasn’t his problem.

As he made his way back towards his chair, Mihawk felt two hands grab his shoulders from behind. Though the feeling was slightly startling, he tried to not let that show.

“You do care! You even came looking for me and everything!”

There was that high pitched voice… The warlord sighed and closed his eyes, his daily bout of annoyance and frustration already beginning.

“I don’t care. It’s just not usual for you to be gone all day. It’s been so pleasantly quiet, I thought I was dreaming.”

“Damn, once an asshat, always an asshat.” The ghost princess sighed as she stepped up next to him. “Then why’d you come looking for me in my room?”

“Like I said- I’m not used to the silence. I was almost beginning to miss my daily frustration upon hearing your dog-whistle of a voice.” The warlord nearly cracked a smirk at that one.

“Okay-! That was incredibly rude! Uncalled for! You absolute negative nelly! Actually- I don’t mind the negativity, keep that up, but still!!” Perona huffed, crossing her arms. “Even I lighten up a bit sometimes- Clearly that’s almost impossible for you.”

“Most likely, yes.” Mihawk spoke, rather unfazed as he made his way back towards his comfy chair.

Perona huffed, straightening up her hat as she floated over to him.

“You’re such a sour old man. Too sour even for me.”

“You’ll live.”

“Seriously! I mean- Put a damn smile on your face every once in a while!”

“No.”

“I- What do you mean ‘no’?! You can’t just say no!”

“I can. I did.”

The ghost princess scrunched up her nose and furrowed her brows in annoyance. The daily arguments between the two finally began, and it was already quarter to one in the afternoon.

“You’re worse than my ghosts! Making everything around you depressed- You’re the worst!”

“Woe is me.” Mihawk sat back down in his chair, beginning to flip through his newspaper once more.

“That’s seriously all you have to say?!”

“Indeed.”

Perona huffed in annoyance as she went silent. Once more, the castle was filled with silence. The only sound being the occasional rustle of a page as Mihawk flipped through his newspaper.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, Mihawk saw Perona out of the corner of his eye. She was kneeling down next to him, her eyes glued to the newspaper just as his were.

The warlord paid no mind to it. She could use a bit of smart people entertainment, in his words.

The two sat in silence for a bit… that is, until Mihawk felt two fingers drill into his hips. The ravenette’s breath hitched as he jumped up and looked at Perona.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The pink haired one responded, a smirk evident on her face.

“That thing you just did. Why did you touch me?”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not!” Perona giggled, standing up as she floated towards him. “Even still… you really do need to lighten up. Your gloominess really can be a lot sometimes. And that’s coming from me. That’s saying something.”

“I really don’t.” Mihawk responded, though he took a step back as Perona reached her hands for him.

The ghost princess snickered as she lunged for him, skittering his fingers up his sides and ribs, then scribbling back down to his tummy.

The warlord gasped, flinching away as he held back what he presumed to be a giggle… a giggle? That’s preposterous. Practically unheard of. He rarely smiled, let alone laughed.

“Oh, oh! I almost gotcha! Cmon! Smile! I’m literally doing the complete opposite of what my devil fruit does… isn’t that ironic?” Perona laughed, her signature ‘horo horo’ slipping through every now and then.

Mihawk, being the strong person he is, could have easily slipped away. But did he want to?

It was hard to say. He was curious as to what Perona was doing- But perhaps she was right? That thought was rare in and of itself, but still. Maybe he did need to lighten up at times. Shanks had told him that previously as well.

However, his thoughts were cut short as one hand squeezed his hips, and the other skittered up his back. That caught him off guard, and he quickly flinched away with a slight chuckle.

The pink haired one gasped, freezing as she stared up at him.

“Was that-“

“No.”

“Oh, I think it was-“

“It wasn’t. You’re hearing things.”

“Oho… Oh, I got a laugh out of you! I did!! I did! I did! Oh, I’ll never let you live this down!” Perona laughed as she squeezed away at his hips, occasionally a hand would scribble around his tummy or sides.

The warlord yelped, bursting into somewhat uncharacteristically soft laughter. Not mocking laughter, nor fake, but genuine soft laughter. Who knew it was possible for the famous Hawkeye to have such a soft moment?

Mihawk could’ve easily shoved her away as well… but he didn’t. Surely he wasn’t enjoying this… Surely he wasn’t having such a soft moment with such an annoying person-

But he was. He was having a fun moment. One that was a long time coming, and well deserved for that matter. Since he was someone who’s dealt with a lot, he deserved a break- He deserved a chance to smile and laugh.

“WahAHaiT- CuhuHut iHiHit ohOut!” The warlord snorted slightly.

“Holy shit! You just snorted!” Perona giggled, skittering her fingers up his ribs.

“NoHOho IhiHi diHIhiDn’t!”

“You did! Do it again!”

“IhIhI- NoHo!”

The ghost princess snickered, scribbling her fingers across his tummy. Once more, he could’ve pushed her away… he could’ve remained stone cold and blank faced. But he didn’t.

Perona had known that he’d been working hard lately. She’d known that he’s been unusually tired.

And because of that… she’d known that he needed a chance to smile. Perona wasn’t exactly known for her ability to make people laugh and smile… but this would do.

So for the rest of the afternoon, soft giggles and snorts rang out throughout the castle halls. From Mihawk, occasionally Perona, but what mattered was that they were both happy. And more importantly, getting along.

#sfw twords #tword community #tword content #one piece tickle #lee!mihawk #ler!perona #i love you best friend i love so much

[slvtforfiction]

Highschool to military love PT.2

☆ Ghost X Reader

☆ Fluff/Smut

☆ Masterlist

☆ PT.1

☆ If you are going to request: please check at the pinned post if requests are open,otherwise I will delete your requests which I have already been doing

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

We walked past the kitchen to see no one there and decided to leave and meet them there.

We walked into the bar and saw the team in a booth with drinks ready,Ghost and me walked towards the bar and he asked what I was drinking, “Gin and tonic please.” I almost whispered.

“Go sit with the guys for the minute and I’ll bring our drinks over.” He told me, “Okay let me just-“ I began reaching in my bag for my purse and he shrugged me off, “I’ll pay,don’t worry princess.” He said, “No I don’t want to-“ and he interrupted, “Go sit down,I’ll be there in a minute.” It sounded like an order and I wasn’t going to test it further,I walked over to the table and sat down with my purse in my lap.

“Hey lass,looking good.” Johnnie said and I smiled back at him as I noticed ghost walked over to us at the table with our drinks in hand.

“Thanks Soap.” I said and smiled at Ghost as he sat his drink down next to mine and shuffled into the booth. I smiled at him as I sipped on my drink.

He had chosen raspberry gin,my favourite and I wondered how he knew. “What’d you choose raspberry for?” I asked him. “Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout it.” He answered and I smiled at him,resting my head on his shoulder for a long moment.

Price had chosen to ignore mine and ghosts ‘closeness’ rather than reporting us.

“Thanks Si.” I said as he walked back into my bunk like every other night. “Welcome sweetheart.” He said and I smiled. “I’m gonna get changed is that alright?” I asked him as I looked into my wardrobe.

“Yeah sure-“ he said before I interrupted him to moan “I haven’t got a fucking hoodie~!” I sighed and grabbed a T-shirt instead throwing it onto my desk along with some joggers.

“‘ere ‘ave this.” He said taking off his hoodie and throwing it at me,I stared at his chest for a moment.

Each painful scar told a different story and I felt sorry for him,such a beautiful soul in such a painful body.

“Do you want a shirt? I’ve got lots of large ones from my Highschool boyfriend.” I said with a little laugh as I grabbed one.

“Had a shirt like this before.” He muttered and I nodded as he put it on. He lied down on my bed and patted his chest,something my boyfriend used to do.

I smiled and lied down on his chest as I snuggled up to him. “What do we need to do tomorrow?” I asked him as I lied in his chest. “Nothing,can go home tomorrow for a week.” He told me and I nodded.

“You stay here or do you have somewhere to go?” He asked and I shook my head mumbling a tired “Come home with me.” And he chuckled to himself “Okay sweets.”

I woke up and I was still snuggled into his chest,the covers and his arms draped over me. Ever since I began to cuddle with him I hadn’t had a nightmare and it was calming.

He sat up as he begun to wake up in sync with me, I sat up in his lap,I rested my hands on his chest and he rested his hands atop of my waist.

“Am I ever gonna see your face?” I asked with a small laugh, “Maybe one day.” He said and he lifted his mask half up and kissed my cheek.

“Why not this one?” I asked softly,not wanting to push him, “You’re not ready yet.” He whispered and pulled me back into his chest.

“Tell me more about that Simon guy,huh?” He asked and I began rambling. “I can’t wait to see him again,hopefully I will one day. I’m honestly thinking about finding him on Facebook.” I laughed and he stroked his hands through my hair. “Tell me more about your girl?” I asked and he nodded.

“She’s so sweet,I can’t wait till she sees me,one of the few people who have seen my face.” He laughed.

“I always imagined this white picket fence,brick house,two cats and a dog with him,I guess he didn’t want that but I’ll still always love him.” I rambled and he smiled with a small chuckle. “No im serious!” I giggled.

“I get that,never ‘magined it with anyone but ‘er.” He said with a small chuckle. “Why don’t you find her again?” I asked, “I will.” He said stroking his hands through my hair gently.

“How are you so sure? I’ve never been sure about anything except love.” I giggled and he smiled under his mask, “How are you sure about love?” He asked me. “I never said anything to him but my high school boyfriend,I loved him.” I told him honestly.

“I’m sure he loved you too.” He almost whispered. I giggled, “I don’t know,he was kinda like you,he wasn’t sure about most things.” I laughed.

“I know he loved you.” He told me as I giggled on top of his chest once again. “Maybe he did.” I replied as a whisper.

I snuggled back into his chest with a smile, “When do you think we should go to mine?” I asked him lazily and he rubbed his hands up my back, “Wanna stay like this for a bit.” He whispered.

“This is my place.” I said as I hopped out of the car with Simon in tow. “It reminds me of somewhere.” He muttered under his breath like I wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Make yourself at home.” I said as I dropped my bag at the front door and walked into the kitchen.

“What tea do you like?” I asked him from the kitchen as he looked around, “Whatever you’re making honey.” He said back and I nodded to myself.

I came back into the living room with the tea and handed him some as I sat down. I pulled a blanket over me and flicked on the tv as he settled his arm behind me.

I put on a tv show and snuggled into the side of Ghost,I had known him for a couple of months now and we were both fairly comfortable with each other.

He lowered his arm around my shoulder. “How come you’re comfortable with me? The guys said you’re never like that.” I asked him. He nodded and sipped on his tea before putting it on the coffee table.

“I feel like I know you,better than those guys.” He added and I nodded,it was already almost midnight and I yawned out as I rubbed my fists at my eyes.

“Do you wanna stay on the couch or do you wanna come upstairs?” I asked him “What are you comfortable with?” He asked and I giggled, “Come upstairs loser.” I said quietly.

He followed me upstairs and bought his bag with him. “I’m gonna get changed real quick.” I said and he nodded, “Same.” He muttered.

“Turn around and just get changed behind each other?” I asked and he nodded,I turned around looking through my wardrobe and grabbed a sports bra and joggers.

I turned around,forgetting that ghost was getting changed and was met with his bare back and thighs. I blushed and quickly turned around as I got changed.

I noticed how he was sat up in my bed,looking at me with the same eyes Simon had all those years ago.

I stepped over the blanket that lied on my floor and snuggled up to his chest,laying my legs over his thighs.

I woke up the next morning as I felt something prodding my thigh and groaned. I moved my thigh as I heard Simon mumble in his sleep.

It sounded like my name but I brushed it off and attempted to get comfortable once again. I moved my thigh up and down attempting to get away from whatever was prodding me and then it hit me.

He mumbled out my name again as I moved my thigh and I didn’t know what to do. I knew what was happening but I didn’t know what to do.

“Si.” I whispered and shook his shoulders slightly and he quickly awoke. He soon realised what had happened as I stared up at him. “M’ so sorry love.” He said as he moved me off of him. “It’s okay.” I whispered.

“Uhm do you want some help?” I barely whispered it out,not knowing if I was being too forward. “You sure sweetheart,don’t have to worry?” He asked me and I nodded.

I sat up on his lap and began to grind my hips down on him. He held onto my waist as I took down his sweatpants,I moaned out as i saw his cock,too big to fit in me not to mention the piercing on the end of his tip.

“Too big.” I mumbled out as I looked up at him,his eyes were soft and he flipped me underneath him. I felt tiny underneath him.

“ ‘ll make it fit.” He whispered and I nodded,he held my hands over my head and took down my sweatpants. He rubbed his finger over my clit and I moaned out,he seemed to know all my sweet spots and I had no clue how.

He lined a finger up to me and I whined out,his finger was almost as big as two of my own.

I whimpered out for him,repeating his name like a mantra, “S’ okay baby I know.”

“Faster Si,please?” I asked and he obliged. I moaned out,enough to most likely gain a noise complaint and wake the neighbours.

“C-close!” I almost yelled and he grunted out as he added an extra finger,I came undone on his fingers but he didn’t pull out.

“Si,please!” I yelled gently but he didn’t stop,he continued his fast pace,overstimulating me.

I came undone on his fingers again and whimpered out as he removed his fingers, “You ready darling?” He asked softly and my panting continued as I nodded, “Words sweetheart.” He whispered as he lined himself up.

“Yeah,please.” I whimpered and he nodded. He pushed himself in,inch by inch and I almost screamed.

I gently bit down on his forearm,the only place I could get to and he chuckled, “Go on princess,I know you can bite harder than that.” He said,giving me permission.

I nodded as much as I could and hit down on his forearm as I gripped the other.

He kept inching himself in for what felt like forever and I slowly bit down harder and harder until I eventually drew blood,I felt his piercing hit my cervix and I knew he was in.I took my mouth off of his arm,staring at the mark and the blood pooling around it.

“M’ sorry,m’ sorry.” I keep repeating lazily, “S’ okay love,calm down.” He whispered as he lifted his arm and put his hand under my chin making me look at him.

I look at him with teary eyes and he smiles at me from under his mask “Cock drunk slut,so pretty f’ me.” I whimpered out for him,not sure what I wanted.

“M’ sorry.” I whispered lazily as I stared at him with teary eyes, “I got scars everywhere love,that’ll be my favourite one.” He whispered as he lifted up his mask just above his nose to kiss me.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked him and he shook his head, “Can’t hurt me sweets.” He whispered with a small laugh, “What about the piercing?” I asked and he shook his head again, “Not really,just a sharp pain.” He said and I nodded.

“M’sorry.” I whispered again and he looked into my eyes, “What for lovie?” And I I stared up at him, “For rambling,it’s only when I’m nervous.” I whispered, “Nothing to be nervous about,I’ll go slow,promise.” He whispered to me.

I nodded my head and looked down where we conjoined.“You want more time to adjust or are you okay?” He asked me in his usual gruff voice, “I’m okay.” I whispered out,my voice far different from his.

He began slowly moving inside of me and I felt every inch moving with me. He slowly picked up his face,afraid to hurt me. I continued to emit small moans which slowly got louder as he held a hand on my stomach.

My hands were still held above me as I lulled my head back,my eyes following behind me to the back of my head. He sped up,keeping a consistent pace as he hit my bruised cervix.

I stared up into his eyes as I slowly lost my vision,my eyes clouding up with tears of pleasure. My moans got louder as he got faster and he lowered his face to mine.

“Cum for me,doll. Love your sweet moans,so pretty,all f’ me.” He whispered and I whimpered out as I felt myself squirt.

“M’ sorry,m’ sorry.” I continued to mumble as he kissed over my scarred face. He soon came after me and slowly pulled out of me. He placed his fingers between my legs before licking them with a small smile, “Pretty girl,delicious.” He whispered and walked out of the room.

“No,no,no.” I whispered as he treated to leave the room, “I’m going to get a rag,I’ll be back,I promise.” He said to me and I nodded as I blacked out.

I woke up with my sweatpants on and cuddled up to Simons chest whilst his hands rubbed circles on my back.I looked up at him as he looked down at me.

“Simon!” I yelled as I noticed him without his mask on,I jumped up in bed and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I forgot how sore my legs are.” I laughed.

The same boy I had known since Highschool lied infront of me and I hadn’t known this whole time. “Hey sweets,still the same girl I knew all those years ago,huh?” He chuckled and I smiled at him as I kept my arms wrapped around him.

“You idiot! I lost contact with you ages ago!” I laughed as I kissed around his face,his beautiful smile still held the memories of our nights together from Highschool,his buzz cut still the same and I smiled as I realised all the signs I had missed.

“Still know my favourite gin,huh?” I laughed “Never forgot it.” He whispered,I snuggled into the crook of his neck, “You’re home.” I whispered “I’ve been at home since you came to the task force.” He told me in a whisper and I smiled.

“So what about that picket fence huh?” He chuckled, “I was serious!” I giggled as I smacked his chest, “So was I.” He muttered and I kissed his face once again.

“Missed you s’ much.” He whispered, “Bet I missed you more.” I laughed as he chuckled along with me. “You must have known who I was since I joined the task force,why didn’t you tell me?” I asked as I looked up at him from his chest.

“Didn’t know how you’d feel.” He said honestly, “That’s why you asked me about you.” I said with a moment of realisation, “Yep.” He said with a chuckle.

“I love you,idiot.” I whispered.

“I love you too.” He replied.

#spotify #smut #song #romance #cute #fluff #ghost smut headcanon #ghost mw2 x reader #ghost dating headcanons #ghost comforting #ghost x reader #ghost first time #ghost smut #ghost comfort #ghost mw2 #ghost #ghost comforting you after a nightmare #ghost fluff #ghost mw2 smut #ghost railing you #ghost xreader #ghostslittleslut #Spotify

[killian-whump]

Edit: I’m leaving this original post as-is, because to change it now would be disingenuous and unfair to the people who voiced (honestly, very valid) outrage at what this post seemed to be saying. This was not meant to be a post about racism or about POC whumpers’ struggles to feel comfortable in the Whump Community. The post about racism that I mention in the first paragraph was merely the starting point for a thought process that got me thinking about the niche quality of the fandom side of the Whump Community. Much like in a fetish community, many whumpers are here for their one specific Whumpee or to scratch their one very specific trope itch. It was that phenomenon that my post was meant to be addressing - and the best way, in that sense, to get your own itch scratched is by starting a blog about it and hoping others with the same Whumpee/interest come out to join you. I made a grave error by referring to the post about racism in the beginning, and using POC Whumpees as an example of a “specific itch” that someone might want to scratch. By doing so, I gave the wrong impression that this was a post (1) about the other post and (2) about racism. It wasn’t meant to be either, and I should have been much more careful in making this post to make sure I did not give the wrong impression. Racism in fandom is a very serious issue; the tendency for niche communities to create insular mini-communities (tables, if you will) based on highly specific individual needs is not. And it’s the latter that this post was meant to be about! Hope that clears it up and keeps further feathers from being ruffled. Love to you all!

I’ve been thinking more about that post about racism in the Whump Community. Despite how big the Whump Community’s gotten and how quickly it’s exploded and evolved into a big, bustling community... It is still what would be considered a niche community.

As such, it is built entirely by the individuals in the community, to cater specifically to their own needs and in the hopes that others might share their specific interests. You can’t expect a table to already be laid out for you in a niche dining hall. You have to grab a table yourself, put your own favorite dishes on it... and hope others come and join you for dinner. Because niche communities are what they are because they’re not for everybody. They’re only for the individuals who are part of them - and they exist to cater to the needs and wants of those people.

But that doesn’t mean groups/interests who aren’t “part” of the community yet are being excluded. It just means no one’s grabbed a table and slapped some of those dishes on it yet. And why haven’t you? Haven’t you ever seen Field of Dreams? “If you build it, they will come.” Get building! Communities don’t build themselves, and life’s too short to wait for others to build your happy space for you.

That’s what I did. I saw some Hook content in the whump blogs, but I knew there could be a lot more. I saw some whumpy writings in the OUAT community, but I knew there could be a lot more. I wanted more. So I made a blog to curate and celebrate what was already out there, and to connect with others who (like me) enjoyed that kind of content. The hope was (and forever is) that other creators would join in and make more content. And they did! They SO did!

And it’s not like the community as a whole decided one day to start putting white boys in boxes. One individual somewhere just thought it would be a good idea, threw a dude in a box and shipped him off to a sadist... and a new section of the community was born. And apparently so many other people crammed chairs around that table that it’s become an entire universe now, through some magic of fandom space evolution or something. And it does seem like they’re still mostly white boys, but I’m sure if you order a POC boy, they’ll happily ship you one. Or hell, order twenty! You’ll probably get a bulk purchase discount, and everyone likes a good bargain.

The point is... The Whump Community is what WE make it - and that includes YOU, whoever you are. If you want more of something - make it. Or at least provide a place for other people seeking such content to congregate so you can use the powerful force of collective puppy dog eyes to get others to make/share content with you. Hey, it works!

And if anyone out there makes/has a POC whump blog (that focuses on fictional whump scenarios other than non-fictional slavery/racism scenarios), lemme know. I’m definitely down for that!

#whump #whump meta

[andipxndy-writes]

will you be my maybe

fandom: abbott elementary warnings: tw: injury; tw: blood; tw: hospital requested by: anon 1 & anon 2 word count: 2.4k

cross-posted to ao3

chapter summary: “Gregory, there hasn’t been a single year when I haven’t made it,” Janine pointed out, rolling her eyes a little at him. As though he was supposed to know that. “Not even when my car broke down and I had to pay, like, a thousand dollars to get it fixed up on the same day.” She decided to conveniently ignore the look of slight horror he was giving her. “Look, I’ll rest. I’ll get some sleep. But when I wake up, I’m gonna clean that carpet, and then we’re going.” He definitely looked like he wanted to argue, like he wasn’t happy at all with that ultimatum, but then he sighed. He sighed and closed his eyes and gestured for her to lie down. “Fine, but only if I’ve decided you’ve slept enough.”

Janine is finally on her way home from hospital, but Gregory isn't happy with her determination to keep going.

will you be my maybe? chapter 3: recovery

It took a few more hours before the doctors discharged her, and even then, they conducted more tests and made sure she was actually starting to recover and not getting worse. Janine, obviously, was getting a little impatient in this time, but she tried not to let it show.

All she wanted to do was get home and pack and probably convince Gregory that it would still be a good idea to head for that family barbecue this weekend — it wasn’t as though it would involve anything strenuous, and she would be so much better off seeing people she hadn’t seen in ages instead of just… sitting in bed and sleeping or whatever her doctor wanted to do.

And not just that, but she’d already agreed to going. She couldn’t cancel now. Not the night before, and certainly not when her mother and sister were going to be there. Someone had to act as the mediator. Or, at least, someone had to be there that would talk to them both when they were in the same room. And they were expecting two mouths to feed, and people would be calling her non-stop if she didn’t turn up.

She loved her family, but she didn’t want that.

When the nurse finally came by with the discharge papers, Janine was literally ready to jump off the bed and grab them from her, get everything signed so that she could go home. It was only because Gregory was still there that she didn’t, because she got the feeling that he would have plopped her back onto the bed to make sure she stayed there until all the papers were signed.

Or maybe she wanted him to do that.

Anyway, soon enough the discharge papers were signed (by Janine, not Gregory, and she did them efficiently and correctly so that he didn’t have to do them over for her so she could go home faster but anyway) and she was heading out of the hospital with Gregory slightly behind her. She didn’t know why he was walking slightly behind her, and she could imagine that his hand was hovering at the base of her back as they walked out of the hospital.

Only imagined, because his hand wasn’t actually there.

Eventually they reached the exit, and Gregory called her a cab to head back to her apartment.

Well, he called them a cab. (And she texted her mother to say that she wouldn’t be heading to the barbecue tonight.)

She leaned back in the seat when they sat down, closing her eyes briefly. “God, it’s nice to sit somewhere comfortable again. That hospital bed was the most uncomfy thing I’ve ever sat on, and my couch is hard as a rock.” She turned to Gregory with a smile. She wasn’t sure he’d even sat on her couch, or maybe he had and didn’t want to talk about it, but he only gave her a smile in return.

In fact, he was pretty quiet for the whole ride back to her apartment, not saying much of anything. Whenever she looked over at him, he was looking out of the window — or he was quickly turning away from her, as though he’d been looking at her just before she’d turned to look at him. It wasn’t exactly an awkward silence, not really, but Janine sort of wished that they spoke at least a little bit on the ride back to her place.

When the cab arrived, though, Gregory practically leapt out of the car, heading around to open the door for her before she could even get her seatbelt off. Pulling herself out of the car, she realised she shouldn’t have been surprised when Gregory held a hand out to help her out of the vehicle. She took the offered hand and used it to leverage herself out of the car, moving aside as Gregory shut the door behind her. It wasn’t long before he’d paid the driver and the two of them were heading back up to her apartment.

Stepping back in, she didn’t know what to expect. She supposed she shouldn’t have expected the place to look any different from the way it had been when she’d left it the last time, but it still surprised her that everything was in its place.

Well, until she got to her bedroom.

She stopped short at the door when she saw the mess that was her bedroom. Her suitcase on the bed, open with her clothes either folded inside or sitting on the bed. That didn’t surprise her, considering she hadn’t finished packing before everything had happened.

No, what surprised her was the blood that was now soaked into her carpet, and was probably dry by now. Blood that would be near impossible to get out.

She wanted to cry. Her landlord was going to kill her, she was so sure of it.

She didn’t know whether Gregory sensed her horror, or maybe she looked like she was about to cry or something, but he was putting his hands on her shoulders and slowly steering her away from her bedroom door and back towards the couch. She wanted to turn back around and head back to her room, look at the mess and try to start cleaning it because she couldn’t have her landlord finding out about that when he would absolutely charge her extra for not only cleaning it but probably replacing the whole carpet, but Gregory’s hands were firm, and soon enough he was turning her around and sitting her on the couch. She opened her mouth to say something — she wasn’t exactly sure what — but then he picked up her knitted throw and held it up, looking at her expectantly.

She pursed her lips. She knew what he wanted her to do.

“You should get some rest,” he told her, predictably. She didn’t know how she could have thought he’d say anything else, really. “You’ve got a concussion, you’ve had a long day, and your body needs rest to recover. And you can’t do that by standing at your bedroom door and staring at the carpet.”

She huffed out through her nose, even though she knew that he was right. He was very right. She couldn’t just stand there at her bedroom door and stare at the carpet, otherwise she’d just worry and worry and worry… and she needed to rest.

“We’re still going to my family’s barbecue this weekend, right?” Even if she’d planned on those words coming out of her mouth, she wouldn’t have stopped them. She’d planned to go — she’d told her family that she’d be there. She wasn’t going to skip out on it because of a little bump to the head. That was a minor inconvenience. She could get over the concussion in like a day, right?

The look on Gregory’s face told her that he absolutely was not going to give her the answer she wanted.

“You need to recover, Janine.”

“No, what I need to do is go to see my family and show them that I’m okay,” she responded simply, “and eat some killer ribs.”

“They don’t even know you’re injured.”

“But they will when they call asking why I haven’t turned up.” And she knew that they would. They all pried like that. Especially her mother. (And she’d already texted her to say that she wouldn’t be turning up tonight.)

Gregory sighed through his nose. “Then you can just tell them you’re busy. That you can’t make it this year.”

“Gregory, there hasn’t been a single year when I haven’t made it,” Janine pointed out, rolling her eyes a little at him. As though he was supposed to know that. “Not even when my car broke down and I had to pay, like, a thousand dollars to get it fixed up on the same day.” She decided to conveniently ignore the look of slight horror he was giving her. “Look, I’ll rest. I’ll get some sleep. But when I wake up, I’m gonna clean that carpet, and then we’re going.”

He definitely looked like he wanted to argue, like he wasn’t happy at all with that ultimatum, but then he sighed. He sighed and closed his eyes and gestured for her to lie down.

“Fine, but only if I’ve decided you’ve slept enough.”

She scoffed with a smirk as she lay down. “What, are you going to knock me out if I wake up too early?” It was only a tease, words that she didn’t really mean.

But the look on Gregory’s face at the suggestion made her wish that it wasn’t the last thing she saw before closing her eyes to get some rest.

***

As much as Gregory hated the smell of bleach, he knew for a fact that it was necessary. It was clean, yes, but it was strong and it hurt his nose.

The bleach had not been for the carpet.

In fact, the bleach had been for Janine’s sink, and the majority of her kitchen counters, which were far dirtier than he had expected. He’d only come in there for some dish soap and water to clean the blood out of the carpet (which was now gone, thank goodness) but coming back to the filth had made his skin crawl. He’d had to clean it.

And he didn’t blame Janine for being dirty. In fact, he didn’t think she was a dirty or messy person at all. She was just busy, someone who always like to be doing something, and had a lot on her mind. Some things just slipped through the cracks. Maybe she’d planned on cleaning the kitchen later. And if anything, the dirtiest part of the kitchen was on top of the kitchen cupboards, which she couldn’t reach anyway, so he couldn’t really blame her for that. The kitchen window was as open as he could get it, to let some fresh air into the apartment, but it didn’t really do much to get the smell out of his nose. It didn’t do anything at all, really.

Now that the kitchen was clean, though, he was just tidying it up, putting everything back where he found it. He hadn’t known how long it would take to clean the place, but it had taken quite a while longer than he’d anticipated, really. Maybe once he was done putting everything away, he could get some rest—

“Gregory?”

His head turned when he heard Janine’s sleepy voice by the kitchen archway, and he smiled a little at her. She was still wrapped up in the blanket, her eyes bleary and the band-aid still on her head, with her curls all over the place. And she looked absolutely adorable like that.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, turning to put away the last of the mugs and shutting the cupboard door before turning to her fully. He gave her a small smile. “You look rested.”

“I am.” Her voice was croaky and full of sleep, and he was almost tempted to tell her to go back to bed, but then her eyes were wide as she looked around the kitchen like she was suddenly fully awake. “Did you clean in here?”

He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a small laugh. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t as though he was embarrassed about cleaning her kitchen — it wasn’t like it was her bedroom or anything. “Uh, yeah. It was a bit of a mess and I needed something to do whilst keeping an eye on you…”

“And you used bleach?” He couldn’t quite register the tone in her voice as she blanket dropped from her shoulders, and she wandered around the room, looking at everything. “The counters look spotless! Like, cleaner than I could make them!” This time, when she turned to him, her eyes were wide and full of wonder. “Can I hire you? To do this for me? Like, regularly?”

This time he laughed genuinely. “Janine, I already have a job.”

“Extra cash wouldn’t hurt though, right?”

He pretended to think about it. “Yeah, you’ve got a point about that…”

Her laugh was cute. It wasn’t even something that Gregory had to try particularly hard to admit. He just thought it was cute, the way she giggled at his comment. And it led them into a few moments of contentment, just standing there, in her kitchen. Her kitchen that was now a whole lot cleaner than it had been just that morning.

The contentment only lasted until Janine spoke again.

“Anyway, I need to get back to packing—”

“I haven’t decided whether you’ve slept enough, yet.” The call back to their earlier conversation earned him a small scowl from Janine, but he was serious. He didn’t want her going if she couldn’t take care of herself. And he knew that if he refused to go with her, she would just go on her own — and that would be even worse. He took one good look at her face.

She still hadn’t slept enough. He could see it in her eyes, she clearly needed more rest. But he also saw the determination in her eyes that absolutely meant she wasn’t going to be backing down anytime soon. The band-aid on her head clearly needed replacing, and the wound probably needed cleaning as well. She, overall, did not look completely ready to be meeting people, especially her family.

“Gregory, I’ve slept enough,” Janine said, as though her saying it would convince him of what his eyes weren’t seeing. “Trust me, I really have. I feel awake, and refreshed, and ready to go. Just let me go. It’s only for the weekend.”

He let out a sigh through his nose, regretting it when the smell of bleach from the kitchen replaced the breath he’d let out. She had a point, though — it was only for the weekend, and then they’d be coming back and returning to their normal lives. Aside from the very obvious head injury, would it really be so bad to let her go and see her family?

“You can go,” he relented, and then held up a finger when she started cheering, “but I’m driving. The whole way. And the whole way back.” So that she could sleep in the car.

She visibly deflated. “Can I at least pick the music?” she asked quietly.

Driver picks. Driver always picks. Gregory pushed that thought aside. If that was the only way that Janine was going to be cooperative for this whole thing, then so be it. “Fine.”

That got enough of a little cheer from her to make Gregory smile, and he could only watch her as she ran off to start packing again, continuing from where she’d left off.

He could only hope that this time, everything went off without a hitch.

#writing: mine #abbott elementary fanfiction #fandom: abbott elementary #abbott elementary #gregory x janine #writing: fanfic writings #gregory eddie #janine teagues #tw: injury #tw: hospital #multichap: will you be my maybe #i semi-lied #there's mention of the hospital and the injury in this chap too #but only at the beginning #i promise

[bookscandlesnbts]

Golden Tracklist Thoughts

If you haven’t seen the tracklist, here it is and I do have some thoughts.

I actually am not sharing the same sentiment as a lot of people who are disappointed that JK has no writing credits on this album. Because honestly, I can relate to his burnout. Re: me not updating any of my fanfics in like a year and wanting to start over as a writer. We know Jungkook is talented in both producing and songwriting. I think the only sad part is the complete separation from his roots. All of these producers and writers are western which makes it feel less personal. Written in a language that isn’t his native tongue makes it feel less personal.

However, I am glad to see limited features. I expected them to throw a western artist on every single track, so I’m glad we will just get some JK. But then again, y/n stans especially are going to use this album as fuel for their “JK is straight” fire because I’m sure it’s going to be filled with girl, she, her, woman all over the place. These people will have no critical thinking skills to connect the dots that Jungkook didn’t write these songs, so they aren’t coming from a place of literal experience. See: people already screaming “WHO HURT JUNGKOOK” all over twitter just from the names of the songs. *eye rolling past every post that I’m seeing saying the same tired phrasing* Please. As if Jungkook hasn’t always loved a good ballad, and again, these songs were not written by him!!!

This is why the heteroification of JK as an artist is something I loathe. It’s not Jungkook himself. It’s not because I want him to be like Troye Sivan right now in drag giving a lap dance in a music video. Well, I could dream okay. By the way, Troye’s album is refreshing and amazing, but I digress. If Jungkook wants to sing these songs, fine. It’s the way that these y/n fans react that I can’t stand. It’s the way that it will only increase their rabid, lustful creepy behavior towards him which pisses me off. That’s why I hate this era for him. He’s just a tool for their sexual fantasies not an actual person. A person, I might add, that they don’t pay attention to his words, actions and mannerisms except for his thrusting on stage. 🙄

But make no mistake, I don’t think this is the real JK. I think the real JK loves his bandmate JM and has for years. But they are enlisting soon, so now is not really the time for Jungkook to dump all of his homo feelings for his bandmate on an album, is it? He probably did feel burnt out, lost, and uninspired to write music. With something as daunting as MS looming over your head, that leaves little space for creativity. He was probably a little stubborn too that he couldn’t really put it all out on the table. I personally think Jungkook wants out of the closet, even more so than Jimin and all of his bi colored themed photo shoots. I think JK would declare his love for Jimin tomorrow publicly if he could.

I still stand by my personal belief too that Jungkook was pushed into this western market direction to some extent. Yes, we know he likes western music and always has. Yes, he said he wants to be a big pop star, but we also know that he made no progress towards releasing an album until 🛴 stepped in. And that can’t be ignored from the equation either. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle.

So, I will keep an open mind, hoping that I like some of the songs. Hoping that some of them feel authentic to the real Jungkook. Hoping that they show off his immense vocal talent. And I’ll be looking forward to seeing Jimin continue to support him. Because that speaks volumes to me. More than songs written in a language foreign to Jungkook by other people.

#jungkook #jungkook golden #golden jungkook #tracklist #jeon jk #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook

[annesthaeticc]

🚨 NEW DR STRANGE FIC ALERT! SNEAK PEEK!!!

in honor of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness' worldwide release, i present to you, a new doctor strange fanfic! this one's a bit different from my usual doctor strange fics, and it is greatly inspired by the film, so there's gonna be minor references/spoilers in here.

here is an excerpt of the fic, hopefully, i'll be posting it tonight or tomorrow morning <3

You and Stephen stepped back a little as America channeled her energy into making a portal. A mist of electricity surrounded her and with an ear-piercing scream, she punched into the empty space, opening up a star-shaped portal. America looked at the two of you and smiled.

“You guys ready?” she asked. You nodded and smiled.

“Hope you don’t up your throw up your Froot Loops this time Y/N.” Stephen teased you, you glared at him and America giggled.

“Says the man who threw up on his first Multiversal travel.” America snickered and it was his turn to look serious.

“Are we doing this or not?” Stephen huffed with impatience. The three of you held hands, and disappeared through the portal. Sometime, the portal sent the three of you somewhere in the multiverse, stumbling, bodies crashing against the hard concrete.

“Are you okay?” you heard Stephen ask America as you slowly got up and got to your bearings. Soon, the three of you changed into casual clothes, thinking it’d be better to blend in with the rest of the crowd and not draw any attention. The three of you set on finding the Sanctum first. Once you were on the familiar footpath; in the midst of cobbled stones of Greenwich Village, the Sanctum Sanctorum stood mighty and proud, just like in any other universe. Stephen led the three of you to the door and he cautiously knocked. The doors opened and a version of stood by door, opening it wider to welcome the three of you.

“Ah, Doctor Strange,” multiverse you, greeted with a smile.

“And you must be Y/N.” Stephen said and shook her hand.

“I am, Master Y/N, Master of the New York Sanctum. And you must be me, in another universe.” she grinned at you and you shook her hand.

“And you, you must be Ms. Chavez.” America nodded in greeting, quickly warming up to the alternate you.

With the introductions done; Master Y/N led you three to the main area. She offered you tea and you all agreed, admitting you were all parched. Master Y/N served tea and reassured the three of you, “Don’t worry, it’s just tea, with a little bit of honey.”

“Just like how the Ancient One takes it,” you mused as you took the first sip.

“I’ve come to like how she took it.” Master Y/N nodded.

“I’m assuming your Doctor Strange here is the Sorcerer Supreme?” Stephen piped up.

“I’m afraid not. Our Doctor Strange is practicing medicine at the Metro General Hospital.” Master Y/N replied, Stephen looked at her curiously.

“But we know each other. He’s a great help when we need it. He volunteers in the health drives we host annually,” she continued.

“Huh, if he’s not the Sorcerer Supreme here, then who is?” Stephen probed.

“Wong.” Master Y/N proudly said. Stephen exhaled and leant back and you tried to keep in your laugh.

“How did you know our names?” America suddenly asked and Master Y/N grinned, already liking the young one.

“You aren’t the only ones fascinated about the multiverse. We are too, curious about it. Only we don’t have the means to travel through it, we just watch, we simply observe. There are a lot of universes out there and we are sure that we haven’t seen half of it. And we’ve seen yours, so I know you.”

“He’s still practicing medicine?” Stephen asked, as if he’s finding it hard to believe it.

Because in every universe he’s been in, his alternate version was the same. Their hands were broken caused by the car accident. And this, this was the first universe he’s been in where his alternate self is still practicing medicine.

“He is, and I believe he’s in. Would you like me to portal you there?” Master Y/N kindly offered and Stephen almost instantly shot up from his seat, following the Master. Master Y/N dutifully opened a portal and Stephen looked back to where you and America were seated.

“Aren’t you two coming?” he asked.

“Uh, I think you should do this on your own,” you said with a smile and America agreed.

“I’ll see you later then.” he said.

“You will.” America replied and waved goodbye.

Master Y/N walked through the portal and Stephen closely followed. His eyes took in a not-so-new environment, one he sometimes missed. Walls were bleak and boring, lights too bright, almost cold, busy health workers dashing about, and patients wheeled in wheelchairs. But one thing he found different, were the murals on the walls. In great contrast to the white, there were bright paintings of animals, cartoon characters.

“This is the…” Stephen started his sentence.

“Pediatric wing of Metro General Hospital, yes.” Master Y/N looked up at the man beside her and grinned.

“Are you saying…”

“That our Stephen Strange is a pediatric specialist? Yes.”

Stephen stood frozen in spot, blinking, trying to process the newfound information. Master Y/N must have sensed his panic, so she said, “Don’t worry, he’s less of a dick compared to you.” Stephen looked at her in shock and she laughed.

“His office is just down the hall.” Master Y/N cleared her throat and pointed to the said hall. Before Stephen knew it, he’s all alone standing, Master Y/N must have left him. And before he knew it, he’s walking the short distance towards the end of the hall. Stephen found himself standing by the door, looking at the shiny placard that said:

STEPHEN VINCENT STRANGE, M.D., PhD., HEAD OF PEDIATRIC DEPARTMENT

Stephen gazed at it with an indescribable, unknown emotion. It was almost overwhelming. And so, he took a deep breath and shakily raised his fist to knock on the door. But before he could do so, a voice boomed through the other side of the door.

( watch out for the full fic!! you can join my taglist and be one of the many to find out what happens next!!!! join the fanfic taglist here! )

AH YES; THE FULL FANFIC IS UP AND ABOUT NOW, GO CHECK IT OUT!! it's called Candies & Stickers

#dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #dr strange x oc #dr strange x original character #dr strange x fem!reader #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x y/n #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange x oc #dr strange fanfiction #doctor strange fanfiction #dr stephen strange fanfic #dr strange fanfic #dr stephen strange #dr strange #doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #dr strange smut #dr strange angst #dr strange fluff #doctor strange smut #doctor strange angst #doctor strange fluff #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #dr strange mcu #doctor strange mcu #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu smut #mcu angst

[alagaesia-headcanons]

Snippet time!!! This will be the final snippet I'm going to post from act 1, it's been really fun to post all these! I hope you guys have enjoyed them too!

...

In quiet moments while they labor over menial tasks, Orrin asks after Irwin, about his days, about his family. He wants to know him. He has a wife who currently lives in their estate up in Lithgow, along with their son who Orrin is amused and endeared to discover that Irwin dotes on. He sings his praises every chance he gets, lauding his son’s growth into a capable, accomplished young man. Orrin listens with a small smile while he rambles about his pride and confidence in him. “I hope to bring him to live here soon,” he mentions once, “so he might benefit from the opportunities the capital has to offer.”

“Tell me whenever you plan to go through with that. I’ll make sure there’s a room open and prepared for him in the castle as well. It’d serve to help him better learn about your work here, after all.”

Irwin clasps a weathered hand just above the crook of Orrin’s elbow. “That’s very gracious of you, thank you,” he says warmly. “I’m grateful for your kindness. And that will make it a simple matter for me to introduce you to him too. I think you’ll really get along.”

“I look forward to it,” Orrin remarks quietly, smiling to himself as he inks his pen to continue writing. That much is yet to be seen, but he nevertheless enjoys the enthusiasm Irwin expresses towards his son. It’s touching. Those details and interactions make Orrin feel like he’s gradually getting to know Irwin as a person, more insightful and sincere than knowing him only as his advisor. He starts to find the sort of understanding he could build trust upon.

Out of that budding trust, Orrin promptly calls on his help when an issue presents itself one night. Irwin finds him turning his desk upside down, restlessly searching through the excessive stacks of parchment drowning it, shifting piles aside onto the dresser, floor, and any other available surface. “Sir?” he questions, peering around to see what he’s trying to do.

“A section of the draft is missing,” Orrin announces, voice tinged with poorly restrained agitation. “The tail end of the requirements for prospective heirs and the beginning of the selection process. It should be about fifteen sheets, maybe more.” He lifts a stack for the third time to reveal that the missing papers haven’t magically appeared beneath it in the last five minutes. He forces out a strained breath. “I don’t know where they could be.”

“That’s concerning,” Irwin comments, carefully stepping around the things on the floor to come closer. “But surely it’s around here somewhere. No need to panic. You do keep a great deal of papers scattered around here... Don’t you think it could have gotten mixed up with something else as you worked? Things are already- tricky to keep track of.”

“It’s not a mess,” Orrin snaps. “There’s a method I use to organize everything, even though you don’t understand it. And so I know exactly where this section should be and it’s not there.” His particular and perhaps a bit convoluted system to keep things in order has been a repeated conversation between them, as Irwin likes to claim it doesn’t exist, but now it lacks the light hearted edge it usually has. Orrin runs a hand over his face and forces himself to stand straight for a moment. “Besides. I’ve searched through everything thoroughly, multiple times before I called on you. If I’d just misplaced it with something else, I would have found it. It’s not here.”

...

[I'll update this post with a link here when the fic is published ❤]

#eragon #inheritance cycle #orrin #clear horizons chatter #my writing #getting use out of one of the only named characters from surda lmao #i Kept forgetting to post this

[impishsensei-a]

hello all!! this is a roleplay blog for gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen, written by milk. on my pinned post, you'll find all relevant links/info here for my blog. though i am not completely caught up with the manga (i've read up to around chapter 180), i have a general idea of what is currently going on up to the most recent chapters. if i'm not here, you can find me on one of my other blogs: @blastintriumph @muryonokansei

please be sure to read my rules before interacting/following.

carrd || interest check || pinned credit || promo, v2 || divider credit || wishlist || tags

header by @foraltruism

for ease of access, my rules are placed under the cut!

I will interact with mutuals only. If I follow you I want to interact, so don’t hesitate to send me asks or IM me with plot ideas! I’m willing to RP with OCs & characters from other series. Personal blogs, please do not follow/reblog/like my posts.

I’m okay with one-liners, crack, multi-para, novella… everything! Feel free to send in any ask memes if we haven’t roleplayed before. Ask memes are a great way to break the ice so I really don’t mind. If I follow you that means I want to rp with you so if you’re ever unsure and worried you might be bothering me, don’t. I’m duplicate friendly.

If I haven’t replied in two weeks (and I’m not on a hiatus) that means I probably lost our thread or it’s sitting somewhere in my drafts and I haven’t noticed it, so please message me to remind me about it. I won’t be annoyed or upset. I drop RPs sometimes out of a loss of interest but please don’t blame yourself. It is always a personal thing that has nothing to do with anyone else as a roleplayer. I’m always happy to start/write more regardless of dropping previous threads.

I have some ships i might gravitate to, but I prioritize chemistry above all where RP is concerned. For now, my blog is multi-ship, so any relationship my muse develops will be in a separate verse unless stated otherwise.

Don't involve me with drama or send messages telling me to reblog callout posts or anything like that. I don't care for getting involved with petty rp drama. If it's something actually serious, I've likely already seen it on the dash and have taken note. Seriously, I will hardblock anyone that pesters me with nonsense drama.

There will be NSFW content on this blog so if you’re uncomfortable with that just blacklist the the following tags, as i tag all my nsfw posts with the following: “cw nsfw”, “nsfw //”, and “( nsfw. )”. Additionally, I will cover dark topics. There will be mentions of murder, blood/gore, toxic/unhealthy relationships and so on featured on my blog. I will of course tag what I feel needs to be tagged. Feel free to ask me to tag anything you need tagged.  I am 26, so if a roleplay should ever come around to it I will only write smut with partners that are also of age & that I feel comfortable writing smut with. If you’d rather not roleplay smut publicly, I’m cool with continuing roleplays on discord. I’m also open to just private RPs (not necessarily smut) on discord too, just ask/lmk you’re interested!

Finally, I ask that minors DON’T follow my blog/DNI. I don’t want to be the reason anyone sees something inappropriate for their age. If you’re a minor & I accidentally followed you, let me know & I’ll unfollow you immediately.

#i was cackling the entire time i made this #i've never done anything serious in my entire life #( the edge of infinity; ooc. )

[densi-mber]

Unforgettable

A/N: This takes place post season seven.

***

“So, what did your mom want?” Kensi asked, snatching an onion ring off Deeks’ plate. Knowing she’d slowly work her way through them, Deeks pushed half of the remaining portion onto her plate. At one point, it would have annoyed her that Deeks knew her so well, but now it made her love him even more.

They’d been gifted a long weekend from Hetty, so they’d decided to make the most of the time and visit a new restaurant in the neighborhood.

“Eh, she had a disagreement with her roofer and now she wants me to intercede,” Deeks answered with a roll of his eyes. “I swear she thinks I’m her personal attorney, even though I keep reminding her that I haven’t practiced in years. At least not regularly.”

“I guess you should be glad it’s not another boyfriend.”

Deeks accepted her point with a nod of his head. He didn’t look thrilled by the reminder.

“Yeah, definitely not looking forward to the next surprise double date. At least the last guy was reasonably normal. Which isn’t saying much.” He shook his head before Kensi could ask. “You don’t want to know. I already told you about the guy who tried to build a bunker in her house.”

Kensi patted his hand sympathetically. For all her own struggles with her mom, there was something to be said for Julia’s overall normalcy. Sure, Julia could be pushy and nosey when she wanted, but she didn’t have the dramatic and eccentric tendencies of Roberta.

“Alright, so no more talk about your mom,” Kensi surmised.

“I appreciate that.”

“Oh, did I tell you I heard back about that conference in August? The one on bilingualism. They asked me to present.”

“That’s amazing,” Deeks said, leaning across the table to kiss her. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. It’s going to be extra work, but I’m kind of looking forward to it. Maybe you can take a few days and come with me.”

Deeks snorted at that. “I’m sure Hetty will love that idea. Maybe I can—”

He stopped mid-sentence, his his gaze shifting, beyond her. His eyes remained focused somewhere beyond her shoulder for another second and then he blinked, shaking off whatever had distracted him.

“Babe?”

“Sorry, I just thought I saw someone I recognized,” he insisted, flashing her a quick smile. It seemed forced, not crinkling the corners of his eyes the way a genuine smile did. He almost look…unnerved. Which was unusual in and of itself.

He resumed the conversation, but she saw his eyes flick away every so often.

After the fifth time, she sighed in exasperation, and turned around, following his gaze to the corner booth. Two women sat opposite each other, one a brunette and the other a blonde. They seemed deep in conversation.

“Who is she?”

“Kens…”

Kensi turned back, frowning at Deeks as he started to wave off her question.

“Deeks, you can’t stop looking at that table, and you’re obviously nervous. She nodded to his hand which he’d just lifted to brush his bangs off his forehead. He immediately dropped it to the table, looking slightly caged in. “So why are you staring at those women?”

He sighed, dropping his head to stare at his loosely clenched fist. With the other hand, he started spinning a cardboard coaster.

“The one facing away from us is Sylvia Gray. My ex,” he answered, his voice low.

“The one you have a—?” She could hear the shock in her own voice.

“A restraining order against, yeah.” He nodded, then amended, eyes still focused on the table, “Well had. It expired last year.”

“Deeks!” Kensi murmured, vaguely horrified. She’d never known more beyond his explanation that it was a “bad breakup”, but she knew it couldn’t be a simple fight if Deeks had gone so far as to involve the police. “Why would you let it expire?”

“Kens, it’s not a big deal,” he insisted, and she wondered if he was trying to convince himself too.

“Deeks, you know what happens when people no longer have those restrictions in place.”

“Yeah, when it comes to violent, repeat offenders. But this is not that kind of situation. I haven’t even seen her since I filed the restraining order.”

Kensi shook her head in disbelief. Only Deeks would defend a person who had done him harm.

“So, you think it’s a complete coincidence that she ended up at the same place as you?” Kensi asked, and Deeks shrugged.

“Probably. It is a small world after all. Can we just enjoy the rest of our dinner? I promise I won’t get distracted again.

She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like she could force Deeks to change his mind. He could be just as stubborn as she was. Most importantly, she needed to trust him to make the right decision. “Ok,” she agreed, squeezing his hand.

Their waiter brought their entrees a few minutes later, and they spent the next half hour enjoying the food while the discussion turned to what they should do with the extra bedroom. By the time Deeks had finished a very articulate defense for converting it to a workout room, Kensi had almost forgotten about Sylvia.

“Get me another beer,” she requested as she stood to go to the bathroom. She gave Deeks a quick kiss, snatching the last onion ring. “And a basket of fried mozzarella.”

There was a small line outside the ladies’ room, and then a young drunk girl needed help getting her strappy shirt untangled. Kensi finally escaped about ten minutes later.

As she walked back to their table, she saw Deeks was no longer alone. Sylvia sat across from him. Even without having seen her head on before, Kensi knew it was her. Her arms were crossed on the table, and from this distance, Kensi could see her lips moving rapidly though she couldn’t hear anything. Deeks sat with his back hunched, Kensi stilled, not certain if she should intrude.

This was completely unchartered territory for her; normally, she’d charge in without thought to the outcome. Somehow this felt different. Whatever Deeks had shared with Sylvia went deeper than she’d realized.

The decision was made for her a minute later, when Sylvia reached for Deeks’ hand, her voice rising sharply at the same time. Deeks’ visibly straightened, and he tugged his arm back, but Sylvia didn’t let go.

By the time Kensi reached them, several people were looking their way. Kensi glared at the closest table until the couple sitting there hastily turned away.

“Sylvia, this isn’t the place for this,” she heard Deeks say, still speaking in a hushed, private tone. To anyone else, he might have appeared completely calm and collected, but Kensi saw the tension in his body.

“You can’t make me leave,” she shot back. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. When Sylvia opened her eyes again, she looked calmer. “Marty, I just want to talk.”

The way her nails dug into Deeks’ skin said otherwise. They were so focused on each other, they didn’t notice Kensi standing a few feet away.

Up close, Sylvia looked older than Kensi had anticipated. Grayish shadows framed her eyes, and though her clothes were high quality, they hung on her thin frame. Overall, she looked kind of careworn.

“Well I don’t. I told you whatever we had was over long ago, and bringing it up again won’t change anything.”

“Maybe I want to apologize. You know, I never got that chance.” Her tone left no doubt who she blamed for missing that opportunity.

“Sylvia, what happened the last time we were together,” Deeks said, pausing for a moment. “Was not healthy. It’s not something that you can come back from, and as much as I want you to be happy, and successful, I don’t want to reestablish any form of a relationship with you.”

“Then why did you let the restraining order lapse?” she asked helplessly.

“Because I didn’t want to keep holding what happened over your head. You deserve to live your life, and so do I. I don’t want to go back to LAPD, but if you don’t leave me alone, I will,” Deeks told her bluntly.

Sylvia’s face caved, expression turning desperate. “Marty, please.”

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Kensi interceded. Sylvia jerked, eyeing Kensi with wary recognition. When Kensi dropped her eyes to where she still clung to Deeks, Sylvia hastily snatched her hand back.

“Kens, it’s ok,” Deeks said, though he looked relieved nonetheless.

Sylvia lifted her chin stubbornly, apparently not ready to give in. There was a dangerous tenacity Kensi recognized, and it made her skin crawl “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Maybe not, but I’m overprotective. You need to leave now.”

As Sylvia leaned back, clearly intimated by Kensi’s couched threat, the woman she sat with earlier came over, looking deeply uncomfortable.

“Sylvie, I told you this was a bad idea,” she hissed, glancing between Kensi and Deeks. “C’mon, let’s leave before something you can’t fix happens.”

Casting Deeks a final look, she reluctantly stood. “I really am sorry,” she murmured, letting her friend drag her away.

Deeks watched them go, not relaxing until they were actually out of the door. Then he pressed his palms over his eye sockets, exhaling unevenly.

“Are you ok?” Kensi asked, sliding her hand over his forearm. He nodded, running his hands down his face, finally facing her. He looked exhausted.

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect that.”

“I kind of got that. You want to tell me what happened with here?”

“No.” He chuckled humorously, folding his hands in front of him. His food lay forgotten, probably cold by now, and Kensi was pretty certain he wouldn’t be eating it tonight.

“I met Sylvia shortly after I decided to quit law. She was getting her Master’s in physical therapy. We met at a friend’s party, and we hit it off. The first couple of months we were casual,” Deeks paused, eyes distant. “Somewhere in there things sped up really quick. We spent all our time together, which wasn’t much since she had grad classes and I was at the academy.”

“That sounds pretty intense,” Kensi commented, and he sighed again.

“You have no idea. We’d only been dating for about 6-8 months when she started talking about moving in together,” he continued. “I kept finding excuses to put it off, or just ignored the not-so-subtle hints. I tried to keep her happy even though I knew that there as a reason I didn’t want to take the next step. I guess I didn’t feel like dealing with the fallout.”

She tried to imagine a much younger Deeks navigating a rocky relationship. How much had his experience with his father influenced his decision to stay in a relationship in which he wasn’t completely happy.

“Then one day I came home from training, it was probably one in the morning, and Sylvia was there in my apartment. She had a key, but we kind of had a rule that we wouldn’t go to each other’s places if the other one wasn’t there.” Kensi nodded, as he looked to her, maybe for reassurance. “So she’s sitting on my couch with a bunch of papers and I don’t even know what.” His expression turned almost guilty, and he dipped his head briefly. “I snapped and demanded to know what the hell she was doing.”

“And Sylvia, god bless her, snapped right back. She said she knew I’d been cheating on her with someone, one of the strippers I knew. She claimed that was why I was always gone and never had enough time for her.

“I’m not proud of it, but I told her that if she didn’t trust me, then she should just leave, and we were over,” he said.

“Deeks, you did nothing wrong,” Kensi told him, grabbing his shoulder for evidence. Deeks shrugged, looking unconvinced.

“I promised myself I would never raise my voice like that, and yet I turned right to shouting as soon as things got difficult.”

“What happened next?”

Deeks’ jaw tightened even more, his anxiety rising with her question.

“We started shouting at each other. You couldn’t even hear what we were saying. Sylvia threw everything on the table on the floor, and I was so close to losing it, I knew I needed to take a step back. I didn’t pay attention when she followed me into the kitchen, and the next thing, she’d grabbed a knife from the dish rack and started waving it around.”

Kensi barely breathed, completely transfixed. Deeks’ voice had dropped almost to a whisper, gravelly and shaky now.

“I honestly don’t think she fully realized what she was doing. She was so, so angry,” he whispered. “Of course, I was freaking out. I tried all the calming techniques I’d learned, but somehow that’s more effective when you’re not the one with the knife in your face.”

He cleared his throat. “Eventually, I told her she needed to get the hell out or I'd call LAPD. And, uh, that’s when she ran at me.” His hand ran down his bicep, almost subconsciously. “She sliced straight down my arm. Fortunately she didn’t hit anything important.”

“Oh my god, Deeks!” Kensi gasped. He’d let the woman sit a few feet away from him. He offered her a grim smile, continuing on, like he needed to get it all out without stopping.

“I blocked her the next time and got her to drop the knife. After that, she just started hitting at me. I don’t even remember most of it. But the neighbors had heard the shouting, and uh, one of them called the police. When they got there, I was bleeding, Sylvia screaming and throwing anything she could get her hands on, they arrested her and brought me in to take my testimony.”

“Like I told you before, I haven’t seen her since I filed the restraining order.” Deeks spread his hands wide, as if to ask, “what do you think?”

Kensi hugged him, needing to feel him alive and safe in her arms, as much as she wanted to provide some comfort.

“I’m so sorry that happened, Deeks,” she murmured, hugging him even tighter.

“Me too,” he said, and she knew he meant it.

Kensi pulled back, and gently grasped his chin. “It’s not your fault though. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. But I probably could have handled it better.”

“No, nothing gave her the right to attack you that way, baby.” She held his chin until he met her gaze and reluctantly nodded. “I know you’re not goin to like this, but I want to run a background check on her to make sure she hasn’t been stalking you or anything.”

“Kens…”

“Deeks, please do this. For me. I need to know that you’re safe,” she begged, not feeling to bad about the slight manipulation.

“Ok,” he relented. “But I’m not renewing the restraining order unless there’s definitive proof that she’s been trying to make contact,” he added firmly.

“Alright.”

“Can we go home now?” he requested.

“Of course.” Kensi held him a little tighter than normal as they walked to the parking lot.

#densimber 6.0 #densimber 2022 #densimber day 21 #ncis la fanfiction #densi #Deeks’ backstory #angst #past Deeks’ whump #protective Kensi #by ejzah