#but I do not have the stamina to do a full lesson with anyone else but absolute beginners

[mona-liar]

ya boy is doing taekwando this year fuck yeah

#*semester #I've wanted to do some kind of martial arts for years #but I do not have the stamina to do a full lesson with anyone else but absolute beginners #so I'm so happy this worked out <3<3<3 #now let's keep the fingers crossed that I still get into a figure skating class

[heartsofminds]

Blooming

“Little spring chicken you are!” he smiles, “You’re too young for me to take you out.”  or  She’s in love with Bradley Bradshaw and he thinks she’s too young. 

Warning: Contains curse words and a brief mention of porn, mention of an age gap

A/N: Welcome to my new series, Blooming, where age and Rooster’s commitment issues come to light. Stay awhile, and enjoy 8.1k words telling the story of our favorite naval aviator in Fightertown, California. 

Read Blooming II and Blooming III here. 

i. 

To say that (Y/N) is bored is an understatement. 

She’s sure her brain will fucking melt if she doesn’t find something to do soon. She’s hoping that if it does, it’ll be an ooey-gooey mess that’ll seep out of her ears and straight to the floor. Morbidly, she prays that it would also be sticky (preferably the consistency of melted spearmint gum left in the car on a blistering summer day) because then she’ll have to scrub up the mess. And if that does happen, she’ll thank her lucky stars because at least then she’ll have something to do that would hopefully preoccupy her time and save her from mindlessly drying shot glasses at the Hard Deck before they open. 

Come to think of it, (Y/N) can’t remember the last time she had any responsibility starting later than 9 AM and she borderline hates herself for being such a busy body all her life. It’s why she’s in the state that she’s in now. 

A month and a half ago she was on top of the world; grinning like a fool who had just struck gold while receiving a piece of paper in a shitty leather folder that named her a graduate of the university she attended. (Y/N) was a bit of an overachiever and always had been. She was slightly more hyper when she was little, which caused her mother to enroll her in numerous sports and instrument lessons to get all the energy out before her bedtime. In high school, she had a hand in any and everything and had her first small patch of gray hair at the ripe age of sixteen. 

College hadn’t been any better stress-wise, and that’s how she found herself graduating with two majors, a minor, a certificate, and a gnarly patch of white hair hidden beneath the top layer of hair on her head. But hey, at least she could say she got a diploma and a law school acceptance out of all of this. 

She would be attending the USD School of Law come fall semester, and friendly advice given to her from the attorney she interned for was plain and simple: “Do absolutely nothing before school starts in the fall.” The statement had made (Y/N) chuckle when she told it to her mother and her mother, knowing her daughter and her busy body tendencies, devised a plan with her best friend Penny Benjamin to ship her off to Miramar to enjoy the beach, spend some time with her godmother, and truly do “nothing.” 

Her Aunt Penny had welcomed her off the plane with open arms and a mango pineapple smoothie. 

“My condolences,” she had grinned, “For the torture you’re gonna feel from doing absolutely nothing.” 

That was two full weeks ago and the true mind-numbing torture of having nothing to do but lounge around all day was eating (Y/N) from the inside out. Every night she tossed and turned and her daily mile runs somehow always turned into five miles (she can’t tell if her boredom or annoyance drives her stamina) and Amelia always came home to find her in some obscure yoga pose that would be questionable and no doubt embarrassing if she was walked in on by anyone else. 

She about devoured each and every book Penny had in her home and surprised her godmother with a new scarf or hat made from the yarn Penny had laying around from some crocheting kick she had gone through years ago. 

(Y/N) thinks the final straw of wear on Penny and Amelia was when they both returned home at 3 PM one day and found (Y/N) meticulously arranging all the silverware in the kitchen drawers to be at a certain angle and in a more than specific order. 

Amelia had called her weird before rushing off to her bedroom and Penny had chuckled before shaking her head and rubbing (Y/N)’s shoulders. 

“You know, I could use someone with those awesome organizing skills at the bar. You’re free to come help whenever you want because this is quite miserable to watch, sweet pea,” she had said and (Y/N) more than happily jumped at the chance. 

So that’s how she finds herself dreaming of her brain leaking out of her ears whilst drying shot glasses and wiping down the bar top that seems to always be sticky (no matter how much cleaning solution is on her rag or how often she wipes it down) and while she is doing something, that something isn’t very stimulating, and her brain obsesses over the thought of self-destructing. 

The door chimes and Aunt Penny walks in, hair curled to perfection and an almond bronzed glow to her skin. (Y/N) had always thought her godmother was beautiful. She was also so warm and kind and relaxed. She truly embodied the California spirit and (Y/N) often finds herself yearning to be that calm, cool and collected. 

“Hiya, sweet pea!” Penny greets her god daughter, seamlessly twirling behind the bar and snagging the towel from the girl’s hand. She squeezes (Y/N)’s shoulder affectionately and motions for the girl to scoot over some. 

“Hi,” (Y/N) weakly smiles, lining up the shot glasses beneath the bar and straightening the glasses used for draft beer for what feels like the fiftieth time in the past half hour she had been there. 

“You’re here early. Not open until five and thought me and your mom made ourselves clear about doing nothing,” she teasingly scolds, “And that, sweet pea, doesn’t look like a whole lotta nothin’ to me.” 

(Y/N) exhales and straightens her back. She turns to her godmother and tries to find some sort of excuse in the blue of her eyes. Penny had a way of guilt-tripping (Y/N) without really having to try. While the guilt-tripping was never intentional (and never from a place of malice if it was) (Y/N) knows that Penny is not an easy woman to lie to, and definitely not an easy woman to feel content disappointing. 

“I know, I know. But in my defense, it was either this or extend my morning run another mile and a half and you know that we’re in a heat wave and you hate when I come back to yours looking like a tomato.” 

Penny chuckles, putting her hand on her hip and leaning her back against the bar top. “You’re a cute little tomato though. And I only say that to make you more aware of how far you’re pushing yourself,” she stops and sends (Y/N) a smirk, “Would think you were in the goddamn Navy with how hard you are on yourself. Putting my old man to shame at that.” 

(Y/N) sends her a smile before coming up with some snarky remark. “I think all airmen have an insatiable need to prove themselves and be better than their competition so he would probably outwork me after all.”

Penny snorts before stepping out from behind the bar again. “I suppose you’re right. But what can I say,” she unlocks the front doors and props it open, “Cockiness runs in this field and I love that and the first half of the word I started my sentence with, my love.” 

The younger girl’s mouth falls open with a gasp. In her entire twenty-one years of living, (Y/N) had known her Aunt Penny was quite the maneater but she had never heard her speak like that. An exaggerated gasp and wide set eyes found her aunt’s scrunched face of amusement. 

“Oh my God! Why would you say that?” (Y/N) asks, pure disgust written in the creases of her furrowed forehead. 

“You give out of pocket, you get out of pocket. Besides, I took a shot of tequila before I came out here and my favorite airman is in town.” 

A nasty taste settles in (Y/N)’s mouth from the mention of him. Captain Peter Maverick Mitchell, the navy aviator who stole Penny’s heart all these years ago.(Y/N) had nothing against the man, not in the slightest. She actually recalls him being very sweet to her when she was younger. Her summers from the ages of nine to sixteen were spent in Miramar with Penny and during that time, she remembers Maverick coming around sporadically. 

He would call her “kiddo”, play tic-tac-toe with her on bar napkins whenever Penny was working late and was too busy to entertain her, and would offer her butterscotches that he had snagged from whatever gas station he passed before heading into town. She even remembers him letting her and Amelia ride on the back of his motorcycle down the street with her Aunt Penny watching and him telling her how they were some of the coolest kids he knew. 

With those good times with Maverick also came the bad ones. The ones that ended with Penny screaming at him about how selfish he was on her front porch. Ones that had Penny in bed for days at a time when he would leave. Ones that made (Y/N) hate how likable people could be because they could always worm their way back into your heart with no questions asked, just to let you down again. (Y/N) had already experienced the ups and downs with her own parents and their failed marriage. Who can blame her that part of her can’t forgive Maverick for putting the most noble woman she knew through the turmoil of marriage problems without even giving her the proper “girlfriend” title? 

“Hey, don’t look so excited. I thought you liked Maverick?” Penny questions. 

(Y/N) realigns the shot glasses as a means to avoid eye contact with her aunt. “I do. I just…I just don’t know if I like him for you.” 

Penny sighs. “Sweet pea, I get it. I really do. You and your momma are the same but I’m a big girl and he’s a big boy. I’ve been fooling around with him and these cocky airmen since I was seventeen. This isn’t even the hard part.” 

(Y/N) continues to move the glasses back and forth. Part of her starts praying that her brain melts so she can escape this more than uncomfortable conversation that she’s having with Aunt Penny. 

“Here,” Penny says, stepping closer to (Y/N) and grabbing the shot glasses the girl was fiddling with. “I put a copy of that Kristin Hannah book you stole from my room in my purse in the back. I’ll finish this. You can go relax before we open.” 

(Y/N) feels the heat rush to her face and reluctantly rounds herself out from behind the bar. She was never good at telling people “no” and her feet move to the back faster than her brain can fathom. Before she knows it, she’s sitting on the back steps of Hard Deck with her nose deep in a smutty scene from the mind of Kristin Hannah. 

She hears Maverick before she sees him. The sound of his motorcycle paired with his habit of always parking in the backside parking lot gives his presence away. (Y/N) can see his black boots toe the ground and before he can greet her, she speaks up. 

“Maverick?” she asks dryly, eyes not moving up from her place in the book she’s damn near crammed her face into. 

“Oh hey, kiddo. Didn’t know you were in town,” he greets. He stops his path around the building to look at her. Maverick knows that he’s not around much and hasn’t seen the girl since she was sixteen, but the lack of braces and colorful friendship bracelets on her ankles reminds him that she’s all grown up now. 

“Here until law school in the fall. I graduated about a month ago and my mom shipped me out here.” 

Maverick chuckles. “I’m taking that this wasn’t by choice.” 

(Y/N) dog-ears the page she was reading and closes the book. “Nothing I do ever is.” 

The pilot shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. “Penny here?” 

(Y/N) smirks and playfully rolls her eyes. “She’s up front. Was waiting on you to stop by, actually.” 

Maverick seems amused but (Y/N) can’t really tell because she doesn’t know the man that well nor does she think his facial expressions ever deter far from a cocky know-it-all esque grin. 

“Thanks, kid. I’ll see you in there.” 

The sound of his boots crunching on the dry ground fill the void of silence before (Y/N)  can find the courage to speak up again. 

“Maverick?” (Y/N) asks in a more urgent tone. The airman stops in his tracks to face her, eyebrows raised in anticipation of what she has to tell him. 

“Don’t break her heart this time. Please.” 

Maverick knows that he has a lot of faults and a major fear of commitment. 

It isn’t that he doesn’t adore Penny. God, no. He would walk to the ends of the Earth for that woman. 

The problem is exactly that, and he knows that he’s in a high risk field with more than low survival rates and a major lack of stability. He would rather break Penny’s heart himself than break it unintentionally with some unforeseen tragedy. He’s had the misfortune of seeing that play out decades earlier with Goose and Carole. 

He could never allow himself to spring that upon another person.

He gives a tight lipped smile and a slight nod before walking to the front of Hard Deck; ecstatic to see the gorgeous blue eyed bartender and dreading seeing the product of his own consequences who happened to rock a pornstache and his father’s old Ray Bans. 

                             ii. 

Aunt Penny’s still got it. 

(Y/N)’s mom had always told her daughter stories about her and her Aunt Penny. So much so, (Y/N) felt as if she could tell the stories with as much detail and knowing as if she had lived that experience herself. She remembered her mom telling her how they would sneak out of their houses late at night because of how early their Admiral Navy fathers would go to sleep to be up at dawn the next morning. 

Her mother talked about her and her godmother’s teenage selves wearing baggy clothes over their skimpiest swimsuits, the closeness of everyone in Fightertown and the high ranking of their fathers making them known to the general public. Sneaking out late in a cheeky bottomed bikini is how her mother met her father and ultimately, how Penny ended up in the talons of Maverick and his charm. 

While both girls lucked out with muscular aviators with hot hands that they could never keep to themselves, (Y/N)’s mom always made note to speak on how easygoing and effortlessly flirty her best friend was. Penny was a bombshell who didn’t know that she was, and (Y/N) and her mother had always admired her for not only her looks, but the warm glow she seemed to encapsulate everyone in.

 Aunt Penny was the sun and a sea breeze; two things that invited whoever she was around to stay awhile and relax in her presence. 

So as (Y/N) pours glasses of scotch and fetches Budweisers out of the fridge beneath the bar, she smiles softly when noticing her aunt and Maverick flirt it up. They’re practically eye-fucking each other and if (Y/N) didn’t know that her aunt was a woman of outstanding morals, she’s sure that she would kick everyone out and have her way with the dark haired pilot. 

Penny is leaned over the bar, resting on her forearms with a soft smile glued to her face. Her lips are as close to Maverick’s face as she can get with a slightly less than socially acceptable space left between them. They’re a sweet couple,(Y/N)  thinks, and she’s so happy that she can witness their love in action again. 

It gives her something to hope for, and the sound of the buzzing Navy patrons and 60s jukebox music in Hard Deck set her heart into a slight flutter. 

(Y/N)’s admiration trance is cut short when Penny steps back, a mischievous grin on her face and the bell on the back wall being rang. Maverick leans back with his eyebrows raised; an announcement made to the bar that all drinks were on Maverick’s tab. 

A gorgeous blond approaches the bar, his eyes raised to look at Penny before shifting his gaze lower to (Y/N)’s face. He smiles, a gleam in his blue eyes that would make (Y/N) melt if she was a stranger to his asshole-ish ways. 

“Hey, pretty girl. Can I get four beers since it’s on the old man?” he asks, pushing his hip on the bar top and leaning forward on the arm that’s resting against the edge of the bar. 

(Y/N) holds her breath but exhales when she realizes that his advances started and stopped with him calling her “pretty girl.” He must be too busy to flirt with her tonight. 

His colleagues called him Hangman but she learned rather quickly that he was humbled by using the last name brandished on his name tag. While Hangman (or Seresin, as she usually called him) was certainly not a stranger to Hard Deck, (Y/N) knew very little about him besides the fact that he was cocky but also extremely charismatic. 

As much as she wanted to wrinkle her nose in disdain at him, she could never bring herself to. His confidence (or arrogance disguised with that gorgeous Chip Skylark smile) wrapped her in a blanket of protection during her long nights at the bar and despite the age difference (she knows that he’s thirty-two; clocked it on her first night when she carded him), his flirtatious advancements were never disrespectful and somewhat endearing. 

It definitely was endearing in a “teasing a girl on the playground and pulling her hair” kind of way and sure, the mindless flirting bothered her a bit at first, but she would rather it be him than a creepy Admiral or Captain who was three times her age and surely old enough to have fathered her father. 

If (Y/N) learned anything within the three and a half weeks she had been helping Aunt Penny at Hard Deck, it was that Hangman was prideful but softhearted. Their conversations consisted of nothing but low blows and flirtatious remarks, but when a guy who was unfamiliar, young or old, was around and eyeing (Y/N)  with a hunger that was ravenous and purely up to no good, Hangman hung around the bar. He chatted her ear off and hammed up the flirting to make sure the offender didn’t approach. 

He never mentioned it and she never thanked him, but the frequent free scotches and draft beers served as proof of her gratitude for their unspoken agreement. 

While this overload of reminiscing flashed in the back of (Y/N)’s mind, she found herself smiling and running to the fridge they kept in the back that housed their Budweisers. She grabbed four, attempting to hold them all in one hand before almost dropping them to their destination on the bar top. 

“Can you also get me your birth certificate? Your number, too, if you were born after,” he looks up at the alcohol license certification on the wall next to Penny’s “bar rules” sign, “Today’s date in the year 2000? God, I’m fucking old.” 

He uses the side of one of his perfect teeth to pop the cap off of his beer while holding the three others by their necks in the other hand. The beer cap rattles against the bar top and (Y/N) narrows her eyes at him. 

“Yeah. Too old to be flirting with a girl who was just taking finals a month and a half ago,” she spits, grabbing the beer he’s opened out of his hand and taking a long swig. She doesn’t realize that her statement makes her seem a lot younger than she is. Hangman knows she graduated last month, but whether that graduation was from high school or college never really came up in the meaningless conversations they had been having. 

He laughs, “Might as well have said you were having recess last week too,” he takes his beer back, “Pretty little thing like you should know better than to drink underaged, if that’s the case.” 

He saunteers off, his legs almost making him bounce with how languid his movements are and the bob of his head swaying side to side as a means to scope out his surroundings; almost like he’s trying to size up all the patrons in the bar to ensure that he’s the best looking and the most skilled. 

“I’m twenty-one, jackass!” she yells out to him, causing Penny and Maverick to bust out laughing beside her. 

Penny trades places with her, pouring a round of tequila shots for some other customers and grabbing them limes. “I think you with an older man would suit you well,” she says, “Especially a Navy guy. Keep you grounded I think.” 

(Y/N) scoffs before throwing the rag she had picked up back on the bar top near Penny. “I’m too young,” she says before taking her break and grabbing the Kristin Hannah book she was reading earlier. 

iii. 

Bradley Bradshaw hadn’t been to the Hard Deck since his twenty-second birthday and every time he’s in Fightertown he feels an immense sense of guilt. Ever since him and Maverick had their huge falling out (mind you, in the back parking lot of the bar) he’s avoided this place and his godfather like the plague. 

There was a time when they were inseparable, him and Mav. He was young when his old man died; three and barely old enough to really remember faces, let alone any details of his life. 

He remembers his dad’s mustache and the airplane nightlight in his childhood bedroom. He remembers his Uncle Maverick and his slue of different girlfriends accompanying them on their weekly ice cream runs. He remembers his mother sobbing in his parents’ room for weeks and the question of, “Where’s daddy?” sitting on his tongue but never escaping his mouth. Bradley knew something was up, but he never asked for confirmation. 

By the time he started Kindergarten, not having his dad around was normal. 

His mom was a great mom. She handmade all of his Halloween costumes every year. One year he was a dinosaur and the next a hot air balloon. He went through a phase in fourth grade of wanting to be a marine biologist and she handmade him a shark costume that year. The relief his mother had of him not being like his father and not being up in the sky at all diminished when Maverick had taken him to an anniversary showing of Jaws. After that, being an aviator like his dad and his Uncle Maverick seemed just fine to him. 

His days until high school were spent all the same: wake up, go to school, go to baseball practice, go wait at home with Uncle Mav and Penny before mom came home from work, do his homework, and go to bed. 

It was simple. It was routine. It was a guideline for each and everyday and if there’s one thing Bradley knows about himself, it’s that he appreciates being on a schedule and knowing what’s coming next. 

He knew that every other week his mother would pack him a turkey sandwich in his lunchbox and then alternate the next week with a PB&J in its place.  

He knew that Maverick would pick him up from baseball practice on his motorcycle and although the older man didn’t wear a helmet, Bradley absolutely had to. 

He knew that Penny called him sweet pea and that a bag of chips and some carrot sticks with ranch were waiting for him on her kitchen counter if he was to wait for his mom with Mav and her. 

He knew that his mom would kiss him on the forehead and on each cheek as she tucked him in at night, and when he got to high school, when she was sick, she was dead set on him coming to her room so she could kiss her son goodnight. 

So yeah, Bradley Bradshaw had a pretty good life growing up and thrived by knowing what was coming his way. Some (including himself) find this odd considering the line of work he found himself in. 

He figured that he’d stop by the Hard Deck before retiring to his room for the night. He had flown all the way in from Virginia Beach to spend his summer in Fightertown, his old friend Phoenix begging to see him because he’s a pain to get on the phone and a horrid texter. He had received orders to come back to his hometown anyway, so spending the summer in sunny Miramar didn’t seem like a horrid idea. 

He’s well liked, but he tries to stay away and keep his distance. It’s easier to not get hurt that way. 

So as he haphazardly parks his inherited Ford Bronco and lazily slams the door, he waltzes up to the front doors of the buzzing Hard Deck bar that he frequented during his first years of legal drinking age. 

He’s not anticipating seeing the rest of his Naval Academy class; just Phoenix and Bob but his eyes widen when he spots the crowd of skilled fighter pilots who he’s shared an alma mater with. 

Something big was up, and it was something that Bradley wasn’t sure he liked the thought of. 

He stands in the doorway scanning the bar, waltzing over to Phoenix and Bob while attempting to ease his temper at the sight of Jake Seresin. 

Bradley likes to think he’s easygoing; that he’s calmer than most pilots and that his confidence never teeters on the arrogant side like Jake’s tends to do. He knows he’s good; in the top one percent of great naval aviators in the entire goddamn nation. He doesn’t need the ego boost in the slightest, but Jake has a tendency to irritate him. 

Whenever they’re around each other, it becomes somewhat of a huge pissing contest; a means to declare themselves the Alpha male and let everyone know who’s boss. 

It used to bother him with how easily Hangman could make him lose his temper. Something about the smug smirk and recklessness paired with the hyperness and backhanded compliments always made him seethe. Phoenix used to get on him about keeping his temper in check and he always listened but her advice never stuck. 

The competitive streak in him paired with a ticking time bomb of a temper always invited Jake’s stupid challenges; whether that be “Hey, Roos! Come play me in pool.” or “I bet the low budget pornstar over there couldn’t beat me at darts.” Bradley would find himself welcoming the challenge at every given thing if Jake was behind it. 

He likes to think that he doesn’t care and to be totally honest with himself, he doesn’t feel anything once he wins. In the moment, it’s just hard to say no. That showed when he and Jake had engaged in a three hour bout of three-handed poker on their day off when they were back in the Academy. 

Jake just knows how to get him going. 

So when he walks his way over to the group of his old pals playing pool he holds his tongue as he hears Hangman’s snide remark. 

“As I live and breathe,” the blonde says and although he knows Jake enjoys giving him a hard time, the smart-ass comment burns in the pit of his stomach and he doesn’t really know why. 

Bradley resists the urge to roll his eyes; aviator shades sliding down his nose from the sweat he’s gathered on his face from the heat outside. He leans against the pool table and as he glances up, he catches the eyes of a girl whom he vaguely recognizes. 

He gets a weird sense of deja vu. He knows that he’s seen the girl before, but it’s almost as if her features were slightly warped in a way that he can’t put his finger on when and where he had last seen her. The thought buzzes in his ears like a pesky wasp that wants to be swatted at and pissed off so it has a reason to sting, but Bradley decides that he won’t let it get to him today. 

So he turns his head around and grabs a pool stick, joining in on a competitive pool game that will end with him exchanging some creative insults to the Ken doll-like blond taunting him from the other side of it. 

iv. 

(Y/N) wasn’t much of a porn watcher and she doesn’t mean that in a “pick me” girl kind of way. 

It’s just the truth; the full honest truth and it’s not like she hasn’t tried, like she hasn’t had her fair share of lonely nights with her mind dripping arousal as well as her vagina. It’s just that every time she turned it on, she would instantly get turned off by something. More often than not, that something happened to be her own mind. 

She thinks too much and that was evident with her busy body habits and the constant train of thought that often ate her alive. If the guy was too lanky or too muscular she would start thinking about if their physique was naturally like that or if they had to train to gain or lose the weight like movie starts often did. If one of the actors had on glasses, then her mind started to wander as to how people who actually wear glasses have sex. She wondered how legs could bend like that and why people grunted or groaned the way they did and - Oh God, how is that position comfortable, let alone even real? 

But when she spots him, the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, complete with aviator shades, a Hawaiian shirt, and golden bronzed skin, all (Y/N) feels is her heart start to beat faster and the region between her legs getting a slight bit wetter. 

Now if he was a pornstar, (Y/N) would watch him all day. 

He walks with confidence like Hangman does, but something about his energy screams less arrogance than usual. All airmen are cocky to some extent; an aura of confidence exuding off of them. They’re intelligent, quick natured, fit, and have knowledge about their area of expertise like no other. 

She can tell this man is confident but not cocky, that he’s friendly but closed off; one of those people who you could talk to for hours and walk away not even knowing his name. She’s caught up in the glistening sheen of his chest and how his mustache settles above his plump lips. He leans his back on the ledge of the window by the pool table. His sunglasses stay on his face and (Y/N)  wonders how he can see because the bar is already pretty dark as it is. 

He must sense her stares because he looks up and catches her greedy eyes. His tongue comes out of his mouth to gently swipe against a small portion of his bottom lip. She gets nervous. His sunglasses block his eyeballs from her view so she can’t tell if he’s actually looking at her and if he is, what his thoughts even are. 

His gaze lasts a mere fifteen seconds before he’s turning to his group of friends and engaging in a game of pool. 

“Overboard! Overboard! Overboard!” is being shouted, the screams filling the bar and taking up all the space for any thoughts other than group think before (Y/N) can overthink herself to death. 

Hangman and a few of the other airmen hanging out around the bar rush over to Maverick and grab the Captain. Each person is holding a limb and Penny smiles and waves to him, giving a flirtatious wink as the boys playfully throw him outside. 

That was the nature of Hard Deck; playful and full of life. It was a place for escape and camaraderie outside of the naval base; outside of fearing for your life and not knowing if the last time you hugged your mother was truly going to be the last time. 

The bar returns to its busy and chaotic state as before. Cheering and shouts, “You fucking cheated!” being yelled over and over again, and various “Can you refill me, sweetheart?”’s filling the void of silence that casts over the bar during its closed hours.

(Y/N) almost floods a shot glass filled with vodka from keeping her eyes out on the young man in the Hawaiian shirt. Penny chuckles as she takes over and pours the shots herself. She bites her tongue before she makes a dirty joke, knowing her goddaughter would be flustered and be unable to focus for the rest of the night. 

Her Aunt Penny’s voice rings in her ear and she jumps a bit at the sudden sound so close to her.  “That’s a good pick. Name’s Rooster, I watched him grow up,” she settles on her forearms, mimicking the pose (Y/N) is doing since she took over the shots from her, “He was my sweet pea before you were,” she pauses again with a small laugh, “And his card won’t decline when he goes to close his tab.” 

(Y/N) scoffs, sitting up and putting her hand on her chest. “So sweet pea isn’t a reserved nickname for me and me only?,” she feigns offense, “Wait until I tell Amelia that she may not be the only “pumpkin eater” in your life since you like to share nicknames.” 

“You’re my one and only sweet pea now, you goober. He left town about ten years ago but he still sends me a mother’s day card every year. He’s a sweet thing,” Penny praises, “Would be perfect for you.” 

(Y/N) shakes her head. “If he has any chance of talking to me before the bar closes and I never see him again, he better make his move now and when Hangman’s not looking. You know he jumps at the chance to “protect me” so he can get a free beer.” 

Both women chuckle. “He protects you because he enjoys your company. He’s a sweet kid, too. Just needs a bit of humbling since his buddy Bradley left town.” 

(Y/N) almost asks who Bradley is before the plug to the jukebox is yanked out of the wall. The groans and pointed looks fill the area and that’s when she spots the culprit. He sits down at the older than dirt piano Penny was insistent on keeping around. His long fingers press on some of the keys; feeling around for the tone and the key he needs and he starts playing along. 

(Y/N) has never heard this song before and she feels out of place when the shouts of the lyrics fill the bar. She doesn’t know if she’s a stranger to the song because of her mother’s need to rid their lives of everything reminiscent of her dad since the divorce, or if she truly is too young to be working here. 

Ooooh that feels good! 

Kiss me baby! 

I wanna love you like a lover should! 

She finds herself doing busy work while everyone in the bar is distracted. Her back is turned to the commotion going on as a means to help herself feel a little less inadequate and out of place. 

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire! 

A small smile finds her face and as the crowd roars his name. 

“Rooster! Rooster! Rooster!” 

He gets up from the piano and breaks out in a cheesy dance. The way his hips move shows that he actually does know how to dance, but his lack of true effort makes the moves come out awkwardly cool and funny. 

(Y/N) bites her lip before she tends to the various customers pushing their cards forward to close their tabs for the night. The breeze of the open windows and the blue tinted night sky wrap her up in warmth and yeah, she might just crush her mom with a hug for shipping her out here to do nothing all summer. 

v. 

The buzz of the bar dies down at around 1 AM; all the navy men having closed their tabs and stumbled their way out of Hard Deck. 5 AM training was a commonality amongst that demographic, and waking up at the ass crack of dawn nursing a nasty hangover was never super appealing to anyone. 

The jukebox has long been turned off and (Y/N) can hear the low sound of Aunt Penny quietly singing a broken rendition of “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” to herself. Penny swears that music helps her close down the bar faster than if she were to do it in complete silence, but little does she realize that she sings to herself quietly quite a lot. 

(Y/N) and Amelia catch her doing it all the time and her humming voice is soothing, so they allow it and never call her out on it. 

Her godmother’s singing transports her back to Rooster’s karaoke session of “Great Balls of Fire” (which she learned was the name of the song after dumbly asking Penny a few minutes ago when everyone had filed out). 

He was so handsome and so enigmatic. His demeanor exuded confidence, but in a more responsible and reserved way than Hangman or any other aviator she had encountered in her short time working at Hard Deck. Yet, he wore his Hawaiian print shirt and loudly interrupted the music already playing in the bar to play his own. 

He wanted to be seen and (Y/N) figures that someone who wasn’t slightly cocky would never pull anything like that. 

Rooster had a sweet face and a hot body and there’s no doubt in (Y/N)’s mind that she would use his presence as material for late nights when her body was steamy and she couldn’t fall asleep. 

She sighs. God, she just needed to turn her brain off sometimes. 

The door chimes and (Y/N) doesn’t look up. She figures it was Penny returning from locking up the back door and coming back in through the front. The silence is comfortable but too suspicious to be that of her godmother’s. While Penny was easygoing, she was definitely a chatterbox and would have said something by now. 

(Y/N) holds her breath. She’s slightly shaken by the fact that the probability of her godmother standing in front of her was extremely low. Her heart starts to race and she prays that if she doesn’t look up, whoever the hell it is will get the hint and leave her alone. 

She scrubs furiously at a water stain on the bar top. She knows it won’t come out that way and can recall the stain being there ever since Penny opened Hard Deck years ago. She tries to eye the perpetrator from her peripheral vision but they’re too far away from her to even be in range of what she can see. 

Long fingers grip the edge of the bar top where she’s scrubbing away, and the hands lead up to deliciously tanned skin and a 70s style pornstache on the very man she had felt herself getting wet for earlier in the night. His sunglasses have made their way onto the front of his tank top, folded and being held there for his use later. 

He offers her a small smile, a tiny huff of air leaving his nose before he opens his mouth to make a comment. 

“I know I’m not a bartender and know absolutely nothing about water stains, but I’m pretty sure that’s not coming out.” 

(Y/N) stalls her movements and lets out a breath. She lays the rag down and leans forward on the bar, arms flexed outwards and palms reversed on the ledge to hold herself up. 

“Thanks for the observation. I’m the bartender and I know for a fact it won’t come out but it can’t hurt to try,” she remarks. 

Rooster, she’s come to learn what his call sign is, tilts his head to the side. He’s trying to get a better look at her. He starts wondering if she was a friend of a friend, an ex girlfriend of someone he once was close to, or perhaps one of the kids who grew up in Miramar whose house he vaguely recalls visiting. The catalogue of faces he has in his mind isn’t doing him justice and before the silence gets too awkward, he steps back and shakes his head. 

He slides his hands in his pocket. 

“I uh, I left my wallet here earlier,” he starts and swallows the saliva building up in his mouth, “It’s brown leather, stamped with my initials on the inside pocket. Thick as shit because of all the crap I throw in there?” 

(Y/N) is still in disbelief that this man is so beautiful and Jesus fucking Christ he’s so hot and he’s speaking to her. 

(Y/N) clears her throat before speaking, “I haven’t seen any lost wallets around here but I can give Penny a heads up to be on the lookout for one.” 

He gives her a tight lipped smile, slightly nodding his head in a positive manner before peeling off to lean on one of the support beams placed by the bar. 

(Y/N) turns on her heel but Penny makes her presence known before she can make anymore steps towards the older woman. 

“Hey, sweet pea? Can you lock up tonight? Amelia just called and she has an upset stomach and I’m gonna run to the gas station to see if they have any ginger ale and Pepto Bismol for her.” Penny asks, walking further to the bar and her eyes widening when she sees Rooster standing in front of her. 

“Sweet pea?” Rooster puts his hand on his chest, “You have another “sweet pea” that isn’t me? How rude, Penny!” 

Aunt Penny giggles, running around the bar to give Rooster a huge hug and pinches him rather hard on his bicep before she lets go. 

“Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw! It’s been too long since I’ve seen you! You leave for fifteen years and show face without letting anyone know?” she teasingly scolds and Bradley (which (Y/N)  learns is is legal name) rubs the agitated part of his arm that Penny oh so “gently” pinched. 

“You know how I take my time. Just slow to act, I guess,” he speaks. 

His hazel eyes glow with a warm admiration for the woman in front of him, the woman who he remembers playing ‘Go Fish’ and eating carrot sticks with during the prime years of his childhood and adolescence. 

“Slow and steady wins the race, sweetheart. I’ll let (Y/N) introduce herself to you, but I’ve gotta hit the road,” she rushes out, grabbing her key ring and detaching the keys to the Hard Deck. 

She slings them in (Y/N)’s direction and the girl is thankful that she’s always been good at catching things. 

“Call me if you have any problems, sweet pea! Nice to see you Bradley Bradshaw. Do not be a stranger while you’re here!” she calls before the doors of the bar close once again and her car can be heard starting and pulling off. 

The void of Penny’s voice is uncomfortable, especially because (Y/N)’s plan of using her as a conversation buffer completely fell through. 

“So you’re (Y/N)?” he asks, coming closer to study her face. 

She bites her lip, “Yes. I’m (Y/N). You’re Bradley?” 

He grins at her. “Rooster,” he corrects. 

“Bradley,” she states firmly, “You’re Bradley Bradshaw.” 

“Everyone calls me Rooster.” 

(Y/N) feels like having some fun; especially because more time spent with Bradley meant more content she had for her late nights. 

“Sure, but I’m not everyone.” 

Bradley rubs his temples, amusement the primary emotion on his face. “While that’s true sweet pea, I still need help finding my wallet. Be a good girl and help me look for it?” 

(Y/N) scoffs. Although he’s handsome and makes her heart flutter a little more with every waking second they spend together, he’s pushing his luck. 

“Be a good girl and help me look for it?” 

Who the hell does he think he is? And even if him calling her that made her wet (a fact that she will indefinitely be taking to the grave no matter what), he still didn’t need to be doing so within the confines of their first conversation. 

“Look for it on your own, Bradley. I have things to do,” she bites, moving herself out from behind the counter and turning off the lights in the back. 

“I can’t take you on dates if I don’t have a wallet, little lady,” he says lowly, eyes gazing at her up and down. 

His eyes lack hunger; lack a true primal instinct that most guys usually looked at her with. His eyes looked curiously but respectfully, never lingering on a part of her body longer than what she was comfortable with. 

“I’m not cheap so are you sure finding your wallet would even help your case at all?” she bites back and Bradley looks dumbfounded. 

“Never said you were. A girl like you takes a lot of effort to impress and to keep entertained, which is why I’m recruiting you to help me with the mission of finding my wallet so we both can get the hell out of here.” 

(Y/N) smiles. She likes this guy; likes him a whole lot. 

So they search every booth, nook, and cranny of Hard Deck before the find the leather wallet sandwiched between a leg of a chair and one of the supportive beams near the pool table. 

Although Bradley knows she’s more than capable of shutting everything down on her own, he still offers to help. It’s how he was raised and is what he would want someone to do for him if the roles were reversed. 

He busies himself by stacking upside down chairs on tables and fixing the pool sticks to stand correctly in the holders they belonged in. He pushes all the bar stools in and even helps screw a loose light bulb back into place to help brighten up the already darkened bar. 

(Y/N) finishes up in the back and turns the lights off in descending order of her walk to the front. Rooster opens the door for her and they both find themselves outside of a closed Hard Deck; the buzzing of cicadas filling their ears and their two cars being parked next to each other in the makeshift parking lot made of smooth dirt. 

His baby blue Bronco reflects the moonlight perfectly and as she walks to her car that’s parked a few feet away from his, he yells out her name. 

“Thanks for helping me find my wallet tonight!” He’s standing up outside of his car with the door propped open. 

She yells back, “You’re welcome! You better have been serious about that date! Slaved long and hard tonight at the bar and with being search and rescue for your wallet!” 

He lets out a soft laugh, “I can,” he starts, “If you tell me how old you are!” 

That’s when (Y/N) freezes. She’s instantly transported back to reality. This isn’t her college town bar where she can flirt with whoever and know that they’re only a few years apart if not a couple months because they were the same age. This isn’t a college hookup or a college boyfriend. 

This is a man. This is a man who has a career and goals and is in his thirties probably. A man whom her Aunt Penny had watched grow up before she was even able to walk. A man who had a fuck ton more experience than her and would probably back down the second she told him her age. 

She gulps. She has to say something anyway. She can’t clam up and get weird now. 

“I’m twenty-one.” She bit the bullet and Bradley laughs before sitting down in his vehicle. 

“Little spring chicken you are!” he smiles, “You’re too young for me to take you out.” 

(Y/N) grins although her stomach drops at the thought of Bradley no longer being interested because of her age. 

“Hey, either that or free drinks on you the next time you come in.” 

He closes his car door and rolls down the window before starting it. 

“I’ll see ya later, chick. Have a good night!”  And with that, Bradley Bradshaw pulls out of the parking lot and speeds onto the road. 

And as (Y/N) lays in bed that night, all she can think about his him. She sees his tanned skin and mustache and reminiscences on how good he smelled and Jesus, what that man would look like under her, making her see stars and cry out louder than she ever has before. 

But then (Y/N) thinks about his comment of her being a “spring chicken” and her stomach starts to turn and God, what is she getting herself into? 

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #top gun #top gun maverick #miles teller #mt #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw fanfic #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #writes

[gaymershigh]

Hi-hi! Can I request headcanons of Octavinele with a reader who is a representative of their species (octopus for Azul and moray for Jade and Floyd), but he spent his whole life among humans and knows nothing about the world of underwater inhabitants. Therefore boys decide to teach him about the life of the merfolk in exchange for the fact that reader will teach them about life in the human world (I was VERY inspired by the song "Strangers like me" from "Tarzan"). Thank you ~

Awww, this scenario is pretty cute! 🥺❤ ALSO OMG ANONNIE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REMINDING ME THIS SONG AND JUST TARZAN IN GENERAL!!! I love Tarzan and any scene where Jane teaches him about normal human life is so dksjkssnksnsnsnan I'M IN LOVEEEE 😭💖

Triggers: none

Azul, Jade and Floyd's teaching their male s/o who is a representative of their species about merfolk life and vice versa

When you first told him that you were also the same species as him, his mouth was agape. He wasn't prepared for the second shock that you also never had an experience of living at the coral sea, which is supposed to be your homeland. Does he wonder if that's the case then what happened in your life that caused you to stay on land? Did your parents have an interspecies relationship and they decided to stay on land? Did something happen to your parents and they forced you all to stay on land for safety? Are your at least biological parents even alive? He has so many questions but he doubts that he has that many answers. For now, he'll let those questions spit out of his mouth for another day.

When you voiced out your curiosity about sea life, an idea immediately came to his mind. He scooted super close to you and excitedly tried to initiate a contract with you. The deal wasn't obnoxious or anything ridiculous at all so you don't have any problems with accepting it. Plus, why would he even hurt his boyfriend just to gain something? He's not a sociopath. You two discussed and scheduled the date of what you called "Coral Sea school trip". Don't worry, he also thinks that this is very unnecessary as well but he doesn't want to take the risk of the twins ruining the moment or anyone from the school seeing his true form.

His eyes shined when you turned into your octopus form, you're very beautiful, more beautiful than he could ever be he thought to himself silently. As it was your first time going in on water in your supposedly real form, you will be slower and clumsy, so he holds your hand to prevent anything bad from happening. This little activity went smoothly. He teaches what it's like to be a very rare species in the sea and the more he speaks, the more he envied you as you didn't need to face the potentially horrible life you could've gone through. He teaches the baby steps and anything that doesn't make much noise as he does not want to attract attention. 

When it's time you have to teach him more about human life, he's very invested. Especially if you talk about anything business-related. You also make your lessons slow since he deserves it, he did go slow on you during the Coral Sea school trip. He would ask so many questions, you might just get tired from all of it. He might even ask more questions after that day. Before you know it, he's scheduling another Coral Sea tour, he's planning to teach you how to hunt and he's expecting you to teach him more about business topics even if you don't own one.

"Oya, is that so?" My, oh my. Isn't that interesting. Day by day, you always manage to captivate Jade with your unpredictability and your sudden bomb drops of news. He's a very curious man so he'll ask you many questions like how did you find out your real form? Did your parents decide that they will live on land for reasons or did you run away from them at such a young age you completely forgot about life at the Coral Sea? If that's the case, then that's hilarious. He'll be telling you facts and how his life was back in his hometown, telling you how different it was here when it comes to getting food, the food chain, the little ways to survive there. Now that you thought about it, it kinda makes sense now as to why they're so smart and unpredictable as they're born and living in a rather unpredictable and dangerous environment in general.

The more he talked about life at the Coral Sea, the more you got fascinated. He could see your beautiful eyes sparkling and that made his eyes narrow, he was pleased with this reaction. He asked if you were interested in maybe visiting there and seeing what's there to offer? Maybe you could teach him too about human life if you want. He says if you want but it's a must in this or else..he will just be upset. He's also curious about the land life as well to the point he made a club about exploring the wilderness and collecting mushrooms. You said yes and he's very delighted to hear that. You both will visit the place together when you two have a lot of leisure time. So when you two do finally have free time, he called you right away to come to the wall of mirrors.

Surprise, surprise, he's already there, neat looking and everything as always. Since he knows that you will have struggles to swim as fast as his pace so he gently holds your hand as he leads you to the mirror. When you changed your form, you looked mesmerizing. His eyes were wide for a few seconds before going back to his soft smile, complimenting your eel form as you told him to stop the teasing. He's put a lot of lessons in one day but of course, he would be gentle because he has common sense and he doesn't want to harm you in any way. He had a thought to make you meet his parents but scrapped it as it might be too much for your first day. He takes you to historic buildings and then to the "city". While the place does feel intimidating, you felt a bit safer as Jade's with you. 

When it's time for the human life lessons, he has more questions than Azul as his questions are in so many categories but most of them are questions related to nature. You two decided to place this little private event in club time. You two hiked as you answered his little questions, it was amusing as he sounded like a five years old child. He would pick up an item he has never seen before and asked what it is if you know. As he also studied a lot about human life already before meeting you, he might accidentally educate you too in the meantime, he chuckled if he does to mock you in a lovingly matter. If you haven't joined his club, he advises you to do so as he hopes for more of these life lessons.  

Floyd gives a very loud "hm?" To your confession. You've never lived in the ocean before? That's weird, especially when you're the same species as him. He wouldn't ask that many questions, not like he has many questions in his mind in the first place. His very first question would be just "Why and then that's pretty much it, he'll go back to the conversation you two were having. It's not like he's disinterested, it's pretty interesting it's just that whatever you guys talk is more important even if it's just a talk about parkour or whatever. It seems that you need to initiate the conversation about his life at the Coral Sea and he's rather delighted that you're interested in whatever he's going back then so he goes on a full story from his family to how they met Azul in detail.

You don't know how happy he is when you're fully focused on his words. Other people usually would stare into the clouds or directly tell him to stop talking so his mood is suddenly more bright than it already is. You kept asking questions about the difference between land and sea life, his opinions and such he proposed an idea, why not find out together by going to the sea? You were excited and made the mistake of saying "I cannot wait" because..he also cannot wait! He's in a good mood right now, why not just go there? Who cares about his job!? He's not in the mood for that but in the mood to go back to his hometown so let's do just that!! Besides, you don't want it postponed because of his foul mood, don't you?

Your eel form makes him very happy. He's circling you like some sort of cult ritual to check you out. He's hugging you, jolly, and surprised that his species are very squishy. Unfortunately, you are dating Floyd so you should be expecting that he doesn't go gentle or do these baby steps. He would go immediately to his unique ways of hunting for food, the extreme sports he has an interest in, and anything that's just risky in general. He will whine when you're slower than him or can't keep up with these intense lessons but of course, will give in to your complaints because he doubts he can do anything about your weaker stamina. Yet.

When it comes to human life lessons, he will always say irritating things like "I already know this" or "this isn't interesting" so be careful in what topics you will bring up. The subjects that usually perk up his ears are sports-related things or anything that requires a lot of physical activity. Fashion also gets his head up, especially about shoes. He will ask a multitude of questions about the things mentioned above because you know, it piques his interest. Maybe some human version of pranks so he can do it to his unfortunate victims, mostly Riddle. If you manage to interest him for the entire time, he might want to do this again but maybe more sea lesson times than land?  

Lmao sorry for the very slow updates lately. I have been physically sick and have no motivation to write lately so expect updates to be rather slow! Sorry about that!!..

~𝕸𝖎𝖗𝖎

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst writing #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twst jade #jade leech #jade x reader #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd x reader #octavinelle #x male reader #male reader

[chibinekochan]

Can I ask for a hc where the brothers react to Mc accidentally eating and aphrodisiac maybe with more side effects to it because its meant for demons not humans?

I assume you mean it's more effective on the reader. If you meant that it has no effect you can read this lovepotion Hc. 

It's a bit heated so slightly NSFW.

Mammon

He really tried to prevent this, like seriously. 

It's not like he wanted you to become hot and bothered by him not at all. 

Alright of course he does, but like ummm not like this? 

Regardless, you basically hang on to him and rub yourself on him. 

This is bad but like in a good way? 

It takes so much restraint from Mammon to not listen to you begging him to take care of you. 

Like he is such a saint praise him. 

So you praise him, he is such a good boy, you purr in his ear. 

You are so bad right now, how can one guy handle this? 

You open his pants, darn you. 

There goes his restraint.

Who can blame him to be honest. 

It's not your first time together of course but who knew you could be this ummm forward. 

Well Mammon doesn't complain, having you begging him is a nice change of pace.

Asmodeus 

Of course he would rather have this effect on you himself. 

But now that it's come this far it can't be helped. 

It's not a bad sight to see you this needy for him. 

You rubbing on him, with a flushed face, basically begging for some special attention. 

Who is he to deny you that? 

Asmo knows it's just a side effect and it will wear off and honestly it would be so much better if he could rile you up like this himself. 

It would be worth the effort for sure. 

For now he will simply offer you some relief. 

You better be thankful for that later. 

Lucifer 

It strikes his ego. 

I mean you are clinging to him and are just short of begging him for attention. 

Lucifer is feeling slightly conflicted, since he has dreamed about this moment but he also doesn't want a aphrodisiac to be the only reason for your behavior. 

It still feels very good. 

Even if you are a bit of a handful right now. 

You really are distracting him from his work you know. 

You apologize, half hardly. 

Lucifer forgives you regardless. 

I mean you will pay for this but not with a lecture. 

This lesson will have to be learned in a physical way. 

You will apologize for sure once he is done. 

Leviathan 

This isn't the first time that you well want to this kind of thing with him. 

He even asked you before. 

This is new though, you being this well hot and bothered, especially by him. 

Levi isn't sure how to deal with this. 

It's flattering of course, Levi never thought he would see you this worked up. 

This is very hot, you straddle him, pressed tight, more naked then dressed, beg him for some special attention. 

Levi begged you before for release, so this is how that feels. 

It's a very effective move to say the least. 

Levi is surely not a man to not give you what you want.

Beelzebub 

It's kinda similar to him being really hungry. 

Kinda in a way. Not really but Beel feels like it is. 

You been always helping him with feeling full. 

By cooking and just generally being there for him. 

Now were you need him of course Beel wants to help you too. 

It's not like you haven't done this before. 

He gladly does as you request. 

To be honest it's a new feeling to be needed this much in this kind of way. 

Beel doesn't complain, lucky for you he got all the stamina you need until you need to rest or the aphrodisiac has worn off. 

Satan 

It was hard enough while in public, after all you had the aphrodisiac during dinner. 

Lucky enough you only clinged to him. 

Actually that part feels very good to Satan. 

You not tried to even flirt with anyone but him. 

Well at least now you are alone with him in his room. 

Alright this is only slightly good. 

Seeing how you now lost all restraint and are basically naked. 

You ask for some attention. 

Satan isn't against it of course. 

You are very hot right now, but you are also under the influence of drugs basically. 

I mean you shouldn't suffer but then what if you have regrets tomorrow? 

The last thing he wants is to lose you. 

Then again you clearly want him. 

This is a moral dilemma if he ever had one. Personally Satan could care less, but he is  committed to you. 

So he shows restraint, it's honestly not easy, especially when you start to just help yourself. 

Even when he helps you out a bit with your heat, it's very hard to overhear your begging. 

Satan has never been a patient guy. 

Honesty some might consider him a Saint tonight. 

You better be ready to thank him for all of his hard work. 

Belphegor

It's a bit bothersome. 

He just wants to sleep but clearly that is impossible right now. 

With you on top of him, asking to be taken care of. 

While it's a good thing that you ask him and not anyone else who is around. 

It's a good feeling.

Now he has to make sure that nobody else is seeing you like this and on top of that he has to bring you to his room. 

It's hard work. 

He will do it for you regardless, of course he will trade you for it tomorrow. 

Well if he is still able to walk by then. 

He will need to catch up on sleep that much is for certain. 

It's bothersome but at least you seem to enjoy this so he doesn't complain. 

Belphie might be lazy but he will still take care of you. 

Check my Obey me! Masterlist for more content

#obey me #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me demon brothers #solmare obey me #swd obey me #obey me! one master to rule them all #obey me headcanon

[pi-cat000]

Girl who made the night sky: p5

NOTE: so I started writing this again this year but didn’t get very far. Here’s what I wrote if anyone was interested. I might post it on ao3 as well, not sure.

Summery: To return home Shikako splits herself infinitely across dimensions. A fault in one of the splits results in a discorporated Shikako stranded in the Naruto canon-verse.

Part 3, Part 4

Her alarm goes off just as the sun begins to peak between the buildings opposite her apartment block.  Sakura roles over to glare at the thin beam of light filtering through her window, catching in floating dust particles. Somewhere in the dark of her mind Kako shifts with amusement, prodding at her sluggish thoughts, pushing them into a state of awareness.

/Morning./ The word is said slowly, echoing with a lazy laughter. Sakura scowls, flopping over to hit the snooze on her alarm, yawning. She is still getting used to waking up at dawn and is thus completely reliant on her alarm to shake her from her sleep. A real shinobi would have enough control to wake up whenever they desired.

/Practise makes perfect,/ Kako says as if guessing the direction of her thoughts.

“Easy for you to say,” Sakura mutters, dragging herself up and yawning again. There is more idle amusement from Kako.

/Have a good day./

Slowly, the impression of Kako fades into the neutral baseline of just-Sakura, signalling that the other was asleep.

“I will,” Sakura comments in her renewed alone-ness.

Kako now slept during the day, leaving Sakura to her own devices. Whatever that not-dream had been, it had disturbed Kako enough that she now spent most of her ‘awake’ time watching over Sakura while she slept. This left only a few scant hours in the evening for discussion, conversation and hanging out together. Despite only having Kako around for a few months, Sakura already misses the other’s presence. Though their interactions had always been limited, reduced to scattered sentences and the occasional emotion, just having Kako listen to her ramblings or watch as she walked to and from the academy, studied or completed whatever other task she had set herself. Funny how much of a difference just having someone around and interested made even the most mundane parts of life. 

Discouraged by her own solitary thoughts, Sakura contemplates returning to bed and sleeping an extra hour. Not like Kako would know if she did. The notion passes quickly. Kako would be disappointed and the thought of disappointing Kako make her sad. Also, she was pretty sure it was dangerous for her and Kako to sleep at the same time. Sakura’s not an idiot. Even if Kako had yet to outright say it, she could put two and two together. Something bad had happened during the nightmare other than just giving them a fright. 

...

The rest of the morning progresses according to her new schedule. She dresses and packs her bag. With her collection of notebooks steadily increasing, it was starting bulge in the middle. The sooner she figured out how to properly make storage scrolls the better.

Next, she shuffles down to the kitchen, pulling together a meal with the correct amount of nutrients. Now Sakura is waking up before her mom, she has been forced to plan her own meals. Kako had been very helpful in that department, pushing her towards the type of diet she would need to help with muscle growth and keep her energy levels high throughout the day. It didn’t taste particularly nice, but it was functional, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the other non-clan kids knew about this sort of stuff. Meal planning was something they’d touched on in class but not something Sakura had bothered applying to her day-to-day life. Sure, she’d always tried to eat healthy but, like most things ninja related, there was a lot more to physical conditioning than just that being healthy.  It had only been a week but she has already noticed a marked improvement in her daily energy levels.

...

Sakura closes the door her apartment just as she begins to hear her parents start to shuffle around, preparing for their own workday. She takes a second to breath in the cool morning air before heading towards the old academy training grounds.

When she arrives the training area is empty like it usually is. Not a lot of academy students bothered coming out so early, especially not to this training spot which was in an awkward location. She hadn’t even known it existed till Kako pointed it out.

Another yawn.

A long sigh.

Sakura begins her warmup stretches, trying not to let the silence of her own mind bother her too much.

She is maybe halfway through the revised exorcize routine that Kako put together for her, when movement at the edge of the training field catches her attention.

It startles her enough that she almost trips through the final set. If Kako were awake Sakura might have had some warning as Kako was usually the one to sense and alert her to people approaching unexpectedly. Maybe she should work on her spatial awareness or lack thereof. She’ll add it to the list.

As it is, she thankfully doesn’t trip and embarrass herself because the person approaching is very familiar.

“Sasuke-kun!” She can’t help but call an enthusiastic greeting, waving. Sasuke freezes on approach, staring his usual blank stare. He blinks, expression shifting ever so slightly to surprise. Well, as surprised as someone as cool as Sasuke can be.

“Hello!” What were the chances of running into Sasuke outside of school hours? Practically zero. Ino would have a fit.

Saskue about-faces and walks in the opposite direction.

“Wait!” She starts to follow as the other quickly disappears into the trees encircling the training grounds.

“Do you want to train…” She hesitates, slowing, “with me…?”

Does she want Sasuke to see her huffing and puffing as she tries to make it past her tenth lap of the field? Her stamina is less than impressive and Sasuke always placed in her class’s top three when it came to combat and physical ability. She stops following. No way was she letting Sasuke see her like this.

If Kako was right, and she usually was, she would start seeing a physical improvement in another weeks time.

She pouts, trying not to feel too unmotivated.  Maybe…hopefully, she’ll see Sasuke out here again and ask to train then? Then she wouldn’t be a total embarrassment. Yes, a prefect plan. She resumes her exercises. Before Kako had come along, catching up to Sasuke would have seemed like an insurmountable task. Now Sakura’s seen what a real shinobi is capable of and said shinobi believes she is capable of the same things, it doesn’t seem as impossible. Goal reaffirmed, she tackles the rest of the morning with renewed energy.

...

Her day progresses as per usual. Sakura sits in class, takes notes, and revises on past topics when Iruka deviates between teaching and crowd control. When lunch break starts, she takes it as an opportunity to sit around the side of the building and examine her sealing notes. Away from her noisy peers, she has a chance to sort through all the stuff she’s been learning and figure out what questions she wants to ask Kako in those few hours they have together in the afternoon.

“Why do these seals use a bunch of descriptive kanji while this one is just a collection of stylistic lines?”

She mutters to herself, scanning the copies of Kako’s seal and her copies of Iruka’s notes on storage scrolls. The storage scrolls are easy enough to understand. The symbols and lines follow a logical progression, building on the basics she’d learnt while studying explosive tags. Kako’s seal is different…very different. Instead of easy to follow connections between the function and kanji, Kako’s seal is a simple circle, spiral and tomoki. Nothing else…No hint at what the lines might mean.

….

...

/Seal is collapsed…simplified. Needs expanding./

Is Kako’s somewhat confusing answer. After spending most of her lunch, then the following lesson mulling the question over, this is less than satisfying.

“What do you mean by needs expanding?” There is a long pause and Sakura waits for Kako to find the right words and energy to talk. Kako could almost communicate in full sentences now but it was still somewhat stilted.

/Not the full seal…simplified…smaller./

Sakura frowns, staring at her desk. Strewn across it are piles of notes, several bottles of ink she’s been infusing with charkha, and blank sealing paper. She had been half asleep at the time but she vaguely recalls how, on the night of Kako’s arrival, the seal had been a lot bigger, stretching across almost all her visible skin. 

“You mean this is only a small part of the seal and there’s more that I can’t see.” A wave of warm encouragement has Sakura continuing, “No, it’s more than that…all the seal is here it’s just…. just smaller…symbolic of the larger seal.”

/Compressed./ There’s a warm swell of pride like she’s just understood some tricky concept Kako’s been trying to impart

“Well …then how do I study it? How do I un-compress it?”

/An expansion seal./

She groans, “So…I need another seal to look at this seal.”

/Hmmm./

“Let me guess: That’s complicated as well.”

/Basics first./

Sakura rests her head on the desk, sighing.

#DOS #dreaming of sunshine #Shikako Nara #Alternate Universe - Gardens #wafflelate's gardens verse #sharing a mind #sakura #naruto #fanfiction of fanfiction of fanfiction #end of year WIPs

[chaoticevilbean]

Spirit Touched Sokka AU

Sokka was two when the first vision came. He was asleep, because it was easier for him to be reached in his dreams than when he was awake. At least, that's what the Spirits said. The first Spirits he met were the two he knew so well from his Tribe's stories. Tui and La.

La was as passionate as one would expect the Ocean to be, changing on a whim. Tui was steady, calm and collected and predictable, as the Moon is with its phases. They spoke to Sokka in simple terms, simple enough that he understood them. Even if some words escaped the boy's knowledge, the emotions didn't. Tui and La spoke of how Sokka's sister would need him, the little sister he had only just gotten. They spoke of his strength, of how it wasn't the strength of muscles but mind. They spoke of many things, though Sokka only remembered some.

His next vision came a week later, this time with Agni. The Sun Spirit was yet to be of any significance to Sokka other than simply that: the Sun. The Sun was different than the Moon and Ocean. Lively and filled with energy but also calm and warm.

The visions kept coming. Sokka grew up with weekly visits from different Spirits. He learned all the words he could, listening to stories from his parents and asking about words he didn't know. His parents and the elders of the village were more than happy to tell about the Spirits and explain words he didn't understand, although they did wonder where he had heard the words in the first place, since they were quite advanced.

By the time Sokka was seven, Hakoda and Kya were very proud of both him and his sister. Katara's waterbending was going far better than any of them could've hoped considering the circumstances and Sokka was incredibly intelligent for his age, or any age. Often the two siblings could be found training side by side, one trying to mimic the weapon techniques of older warriors and one trying to learn the ways of bending with only stories.

Kya once asked Sokka why he didn't hold the same stock in the Spirits and bending as others yet still wanted to know so much about them.

"They're normal, Mommy," he had said.

"What do you mean, sweetie? What's normal?" Kya knew the Spirits were anything but normal.

"They talk and walk like everyone else and sometimes they make mistakes. None of the stories say that but I know."

"And how do you know?"

"Cuz they talk to me. When I sleep, they like to visit. Only when I'm sleeping cuz that's easy for them and they're busy." Kya asked a few more questions before sending her child off to play with his sister. Then she quickly went to gather the elders for a meeting.

"What is it, Kya?" Kanna spoke with urgency the moment she entered the hut.

"It is Sokka. He is alright, but he told me something." Kya was in distress, but it was more of a confused distress, as if she didn't know if she should be upset or worried or neither. The elders paid full attention to her words, especially when her eldest was mentioned.

"Kya, speak your mind," one spoke, his voice as solid as he could make it in such an uncertain situation.

"Sokka has always wanted to know about the Spirits. This we know. Yet he seems to dismiss their hand in many things, and does the same with Katara's bending. This we know. I questioned him and finally found the connection between the two. According to Sokka, once a week, since he was too young to truly remember, he has received visions of various Spirits. They speak to him, teach him, show him many things. He has even mentioned them playing games with him. He views them as he views us, instead of the Great Beings we see them as. He only truly described one vision, where he was visited by Agni. He told that he asked Agni where his sister had come from because she hasn't always been around. Apparently, Agni turned 'as red as a cold nose' and couldn't speak properly, something he always seemed to do."

"Haha, good for him. If anyone were to fluster a Great Spirit, it would definitely be your little boy," Kanna cackled. The other elders looked at her in surprise at her reaction, but were also amused at the thought that the Sun was asked to explain where babies come from and couldn't speak.

"And, really Kya, this might be good," the grandmother continued. "It's obvious that the Spirits have great things in store for Sokka, and if they are teaching him, it will be to help him. He knows their powers from the stories he hears from us, he simply also knows the sides the stories don't tell. If we continue to teach him as much as we can on our side, the Spirits will help on their side. La watches over our people always, and Tui does as much as they can for the polar night and our waterbenders, more so then than now. If Agni is also watching over your boy, he will be safe on all sides."

And so the topic was discussed, then pushed to the back of their existences. Maybe they paid a little more attention to Sokka, and answered his questions with a bit more detail, but they were busy. Especially after the final raid they had. The one where they lost Kya.

At nine, Sokka had to learn to deal with grief. When he slept the night after his mother wouldn't wake up, the Spirit there to greet him was the Dark Water Spirit. There was no speaking that night, no conversation or lesson or game. Instead, the Spirit held the young mortal, watching as he broke down. He never did this in the mortal world. Warriors weren't supposed to cry in their village, so he didn't, but he could in the Spirit World. And the Dark Water Spirit never said a word about it after.

When his father left, Sokka struggled to make ends meet as the only man left and therefore the acting chief of the tribe. During his weekly Spirit encounter, he asked the Painted Lady what he should do.

"You may be the only man, but there are many women."

That morning, Sokka immediately set to work. He went straight to his Gran-Gran, who he knew would always listen.

"Gran-Gran, I have a plan to help us."

"With what, Sokka?"

"I can't support us alone. But if I can help teach the rest of you how to hunt and fight and you teach me to cook and clean, we can all work together to keep things going." She agreed.

And so the remaining residents of the South Pole learned to be warriors and homekeepers. Katara taught Sokka to sew and cook and clean and even braid her hair. Sokka taught lessons to all of the adults, who picked up quickly, before moving onto the future of their tribe. The children would never be able to focus, he knew that. So he found new ways to train them.

He told them that they needed to build a snow wall with Katara's help so that they could protect the village. Only, he said it like he would tell them a story. So the children built a strong, sturdy wall of snow and ice around the village to protect themselves from evil soldiers and prove themselves mighty like the architects of Ba Sing Se.

He had them lift baskets of increasing weights to "help everyone out. Gran-Gran's back hurts and we need to be as kind as Tui and La are to us." He had them run around for hours to build stamina, and had them play games of badgerfrog and cartwheels to be agile. It worked for the most part.

It was on a day like any other when things changed. The children were to do chores and then play tag and hide'n'seek and snowball war until Sokka and Katara returned from fishing. Instead of fish, however, the siblings brought back the Avatar.

#atla #avatar #sokka #katara #aang #kanna #kya #gran-gran #sokka is chief #waterbender #hakoda #southern water tribe

[satoshi-mochida]

Tobyfox has provided a status update on the second chapter and beyond of Undertale sequel Deltarune in celebration of Undertale‘s fifth anniversary today.

First, here are the latest screenshots from Deltarune‘s second chapter:

Get the full update below.

Introduction

Hi everyone.

If you’re reading this, you must have been sticking around for about five years.*

I want to express my gratitude for everyone that has supported and encouraged me over this time.

Thank you.

I’ve said it many many times before, but I didn’t expect the simple game I made to receive so much attention. Because of that, many interesting things have happened, and now I can even spend my time making another game.

It seems both of us received a lot of happiness from this occurrence.

If it’s okay, I would like to keep striving to do things that make both of us happy.

Let me know what you think about that.

*Since the Undertale demo released in 2013, the game has really existed for 7 years. It’s already been more than 25% of my life…

Deltarune

I will make another.

I am making a game called “Deltarune.” It is the second game in the Undertale series.

The game will be released in many “Chapters,” the first of which I released two years ago on Halloween. Since that time, I’ve been working hard to figure out the rest of the game.

However, it’s a game that’s much harder to make than Undertale.

Graphics are more complicated and several times more involved.

Systems are more complicated.

Exposes the weak points of my creative and artistic ability.

Plot is much harder to tie together (more characters, more important locations).

Significantly more content than Undertale in one playthrough (especially cutscenes).

I have only made one game ever.

Unlike Undertale, this is the type of game that would normally have many designers working on each aspect of the game.

A story writer, a composer, an audio director, a map designer, a battle designer, a minigame designer, and an overall director. Instead, all of those roles end up handled by me.

The good news is that a few months ago, I completed a significant milestone regarding the game’s design. I completed readable outlines for every chapter in the game, including first-pass dialogue for almost all the cutscenes, examples of the music, etc.

Although certain details are still hazy, the flow of the game and all major events and battles that take place are now clear.

In summary, I largely spent the past two years writing, composing, designing, and drawing. However, that’s not the whole story.

We had actually attempted to develop the game since the time too. Development started around March 2019 and a 99% work was spent on investigating engines alternate to GameMaker, which I used for Chapter 1.

Without getting into the details, I decided a few months ago to go back to GameMaker after all. It still felt like the best fit for the project. So using Chapter 1 as a base, we’ve started creating Chapter 2 since May 2020.

A lot of progress has been made since that time. I believe we can complete this chapter, content-wise, before the end of the year (not accounting for translation, bugtesting, and porting).

I feel very confident. And the strange thing is, even though we ended up using the original engine, I don’t regret the lost time, either. Not only was I still busy designing the game, but during that long period, I was able to think of many ideas that make the game’s story and characters better.

I’m glad that I’m making the Deltarune that I have now and that we are making healthy progress.

Deltarune Status Estimate

■ Chapter 2 (04.15.20 – 08.13.20)

Phase 1: Design

Main Design: 100% (dialogue, etc.)

Initial Setup: 100% (stuff involved setting up people to make the game, adding debug tools, documentation, etc.)

Phase 2: Implementation (05.01.20 ~ 08.13.20)

Art: 90%

Cutscenes: 80% (90% are started, needs 2nd pass)

Bullet Patterns: 70% (enemies are mostly completed, bosses are about 40% done, needs 2nd pass)

Non-Bullet Battle Elements: 30% (Some ACTs are done and enemies are fightable, but interactive ACTs need to be completed and polished and the bosses aren’t programmed outside of bullet patterns)

Audio: 80%

Maps: ??% most are started or placeholder, most need 2nd pass. NPC interactions are completed in all spots where written.

Other: 65%

Phase 3: Finishing

Balancing: 0%

Bugfixing: 0%

Translation: 0%

Porting: 0%

(Honestly, a lot of stuff FEELS like 80% to me, but the truth is that what’s there is quite rough now. Polish ends up taking a lot of time, so the real actual time value may be around 50% done…? We’ll see what happens. It’ll be a lesson for everybody.)

■ Chapters 3 and Beyond

Phase 1: Design

Story and General Game Progression (first-pass): 100%

Cutscene Dialogue (first-pass, lacking cutscene instructions): 95%

Map Design (textual): 70% (varies per chapter, earlier chapters totally completed)

Map Design (drawn): 0% (this takes a lot of wrist energy so I don’t do it until we start programming)

Enemy Design (conceptual): 90% (all bosses are known)

Enemy Design (bullets / visual): 80% (varies per chapter, earlier chapters totally completed)

Music (concept): 95%

Music (completed): 50%

Visual Design:BG Concept (first-pass): 75%, Important Character, Bosses (first-pass): 100%

Phase 2

Sprite Art: 20%?

Other Content Creation: 0%

Phase 3

Release Readiness: 0%

(These numbers can be somewhat deceptive though. My true design style is to reach the moment where we have to make something, then suddenly think of something different at the last minute. This is always how it’s been with me and my work. It feels like no matter how much I plan, everything comes down to what I think of at the last second…)

Team and Disability

You may have noticed from my phrasing, but yes, there is a team helping me create the game. Other than me, there are about three active team members working day-to-day, with a few other people pitching in from time to time.

Their roles of the main members are overall content implementation and organization, bullet pattern implementation (part-time), and art (Temmie). Other than designing, I still have the role of system programmer.

I’m extremely grateful to have a team helping me carry out my design especially because of my disabilities, which have also made development more difficult.

Although I have long suffered from wrist and hand pain, about five months ago my wrist was the worst it’s ever been. I could not play the piano, use the mouse, and barely could use the keyboard. I navigated everything through voice to text.

Through weightlifting, exercise, and various equipment I have been able to somewhat increase the stamina of my wrist to an extent. Various solutions have included trackball mice for each hand, using voice to text whenever possible, using a foot pedal to click the mouse, etc.

Now I can use the mouse and keyboard for a certain amount each day provided I take frequent breaks. I wish I could work without stopping. Once the world situation improves I would really like to take physical therapy again and/or investigate surgery to repair my wrist.

Future Plans

Once we finish Chapter 2, I would like to use it as the base to create future chapters from. After gaining experience from this chapter, I think making future chapters will be easier.

Part of me wonders if we could make the game faster if we increased the size of the team and did something insane like create multiple chapters in parallel. However, another part of me understands that, adding more people doesn’t guarantee that the game will be created faster if it’s not done properly. I’m already just barely avoiding becoming a bottleneck on development even with a team of this size, due to my physical limitations.

To that end, I am interested in making a list of people that could potentially help me make the game. I’m not 100% sure if I’m going to ask anyone to help, but I think if I could find just 1 person that works well with me, it’s worth asking.

Chapter 2 is proceeding at a good pace, so if we do take anyone on, it will probably only be for Chapter 3 onward. So please understand that anything you send in may not have an immediate result.

People I Am Looking For

Feel free to send in your portfolio if you have the following qualifications:

Worked in the game industry before

Worked under NDA before

Have professional references

A degree of creativity while also being okay with just following directions

Fluent in English

People I Might Actually Use

Music Transcription / Basic Arrangement (Part-Time)

I usually start making songs by playing the piano and singing. An important step after this is to take this basic outline and transcribe it into melodies and chords. Though there are not too many remaining songs to transcribe, it would still help my wrist to have someone else start this process for me. Although I know many musicians, I’m sheepish to ask for help to them, because the main role is actually just to help me compose my own music…

Helpful qualities:

Good at transcription.

Can stand listening to me sing.

Optional: can use an old version of Fruity Loops.

Bullet Pattern Programming (Part-Time)

I’m looking for someone to help me program bullet patterns into the game. These people will work from text and visual designs to create fun battles that match the feeling of the game. I already have one person helping with this, but I think a second person would help a lot. You have to be able to use Gamemaker Studio 2 to manipulate objects on the screen / okay with using pre-existing scripts to accomplish this.

Helpful qualities:

Sense of fun and understanding of player perspective and gameplay balance. This aspect is [many times] more important than programming ability.

Reliable.

Able to make patterns based off of visual/text instructions.

Fine working with a poorly made battle system.

Able to sprite bullets.

Good visual / timing sense.

Minigame Programming (Part-Time)

There are a few minigames and small interactive events in the game, which appear in and outside of battles. These could take any kind of form… who knows what I’m thinking! Have you made a game before?

Helpful qualities:

Same sense of humor as me.

Some level of spriting ability is useful.

You have to have made a game that is fun.

Ability to work together with me.

Unlikely to Hire, But Send Me Your Information Just In Case

Cutscene Programming (Part-Time)

Besides the battles, the largest amount of content in the game is definitely the cut scenes. You will have to understand Gamemaker Studio 2, but the majority of the work is simply using a scripting system that I created to make characters move around the screen. The most important quality you can have here is not programming ability but the ability to efficiently use the system in order to create scenes with a good sense of humor, timing, and emotion.

I’d strongly prefer to hire someone I know to do this because it involves the story. So I most likely won’t hire anyone else.

Helpful qualities:

Can take text instructions and impart a proper sense of timing, humor, and weight to them.

Fine working with a custom scripting system (or smart enough to make something better that makes the game easier to make).

Art (Part-Time)

Sprite art—Temmie has already drawn a massive amount of art for the game, and continues to do so. And I actually already have a few other artists that have helped me that I’m more than happy to keep working with if things become more overwhelming. So currently I actually don’t need any more artists.

However, personally, I’d really like to build up a portfolio of available pixel artists and even concept artists. It’s not as if this is the only game I will make during my life. Anyone chosen for this game needs to be able to match the style of the game, but I’m interested in seeing people with different styles as well. Knowing that I have different options can open my mind up to different creative pathways.

Helpful qualities:

Can take bad looking sketches and turn them into art that looks good (magic).

Don’t mind if your work gets completely drawn over or thrown out.

Anyone that can draw cute or cool poses is good.

Uninterested in seeing people that have an art style outside of the scope of the game.

Write (Full-Time)

Someone needs to transform into a new wrist for me.

Helpful qualities:

Flexible.

Doesn’t hurt.

Musical sense.

That’s everyone I’m looking for. The only other kind of person I might hire would be a single jack-of-all-trades type that can do any sort of things such as cutscenes, bullets, or even system programming, with a good degree of visual flair. (But if you can do those sorts of things, aren’t you busy making your own game already!?)

Anyway, I’ll show you the e-mail now. Just make sure you read these rules first:

Don’t send in e-mails about anything else!

Don’t send to other team members, Fangamer, etc. about helping out!

Got it? Then please send your information to this e-mail address:

[email protected]

Since Fangamer will be sorting through the e-mails for me, we’ll stop taking e-mails at the end of September so they don’t get overwhelmed. Ultimately, I’m only looking for one or two people, and to make a list of the rest of the potentially helpful people in the world.

Undertale is available now for PlayStation 4, Switch, PS Vita, and PC via Steam and GOG. Deltarune Chapter 1 is availble for PlayStation 4, Switch, and PC via Deltarune.com.

#Deltarune Chapter 2 #Deltarune #Undertale #Tobyfox #RPG #Gematsu #long post

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Tough Lessons:  Chapter 2

Three days.  Three very long days of having to listen to anything and everything that the Kaiser had to say, follow every order that he was given, and effectively be a hand-rest more often than not.  By the end of the second day, Daisuke tired of it, and wished even harder he could figure out some way to get the Kaiser bored with him. If struggling obedience wasn't doing it, then he didn't have any idea of what was.

He didn't see V-mon once in all that time.  Kaiser assured him that his partner hadn't died and Wormmon continued to take care of him, but he hadn't seen V-mon, and that worried him.  He knew exactly what Kaiser could or would do if Daisuke got too much on his nerves, so despite wanting to with every ounce of his soul, he didn't go looking for V-mon.

Wish I could at least ask Wormmon.  But he didn't see the Kaiser's partner around that much either.  He had to guess that was because he was taking care of V-mon.  There wasn't much else he could think of about that.

So for lack of anything else to do, he watched what the Kaiser did.  Building those Dark Towers wasn't that interesting.  Kaiser just sent materials and enslaved Digimon and the spires were constructed.  He did figure out that Kaiser was working on something so that the fortress itself could create the Towers wherever Kaiser wanted them.  More and more he saw them being set up not just to control an area but just to be there.

"What are you doing that for?"  Daisuke asked on the third day, from where he knelt at the Kaiser's side.  "I thought you just needed one of those for an area."

"That's all I do need,"  Kaiser answered a trifle absently.  "I have more than one to increase the effect.  With one tower in an area, it's under my control.  With two of them in a specific distance from one another, the area the evolution dampening effect covers is doubled.  More Towers, more control."

That made a very sick sort of sense.  Daisuke just nodded.  He watched for a little longer, before he noticed one of the areas that reflected on the screens.  "Isn't that Death Rosemon's border?"

Kaiser smirked.  "Yes.  I'm taking a little piece of it."  He leaned back to rest one hand on Daisuke's head, fingers slipping around on his scalp.  "I have some of my stronger Digimon here."  The scene shifted, revealing BlueMeramon, two Gigadramon, and a Triceramon.  "Should Death Rosemon make an appearance to protest my presence, then I will test out a new configuration on her."

Daisuke swallowed at that.  "What do you mean?"  He had a pretty good idea that he knew what Kaiser meant, but he wanted to hear it for himself.

"I'm testing to see if this new configuration will control a Digimon of that level."  Daisuke suspected if he could see Kaiser's eyes, there would be a lust for power there.  He didn't look up.  He didn't want to confirm it.  That look was almost as nauseating as the way Kaiser looked when Daisuke groveled before him to save V-mon.

Instead, he approached the subject differently.  "Something that's not a Ring or a Spiral?"

"Exactly. Look up here."  Kaiser patted his head and Daisuke looked up to see a slender collar, one that resembled an Evil Ring, but with a difference - a second piece hung from what he guessed was the front, this one with eight sides to it.  It didn't quite look like a Ring and a Spiral merged, but he could see where Kaiser drew the inspiration.  "I haven't yet been able to determine if it will work on an Ultimate level but if she challenges me, I will find out."

His fingers brushed through Daisuke's hair again.  "As long as you're a good and obedient boy, I won't have to test something similar on you.  I would like to know what it would take to control a human - other than saving one's life, of course." 

Daisuke winced.  I'm only here because of V-mon.  Because I made mistakes.  His friends wanted to save his life.  V-mon wanted to be with him.  It all piled up and left him on his knees before Kaiser, trying desperately to find a way for Kaiser to get bored with him.  It didn't look likely to happen any time soon.

Kaiser stood up, gesturing for Daisuke to follow.  Daisuke knew what this meant - time for his exercise.  Kaiser made sure he not only got nourishing regular meals but proper exercise as well.  Kaiser led him to the workout area, which consisted of a single room with enough exercise equipment for an Olympic athletic team. 

"Get to work.  We're going for two hours today,"  Kaiser ordered.  He increased the time Daisuke spent in exercising every day, forcing him to increase his stamina and his strength.  Daisuke started off with a slow warm-up; the first time he'd tried to exercise without that, Kaiser delivered a verbal beat-down on how stupid he was.  Now he stretched and bent, getting himself ready bit by bit.  Kaiser created himself a chair and watched as Daisuke slowly pushed himself harder and harder.

Daisuke didn't think about time.  It flowed faster when he wasn't looking at a watch.  He focused instead on going from machine to machine, walking to jogging to running to lifting a very carefully measured set of weights, to all sorts of other exercises, anything that increased his health and improved him.  It had only been three days and it didn't take long before he was soaked in sweat. 

"You can take a rest,"  Kaiser ordered.  "But we haven't finished for today yet."  He gestured to one of the Digimon who stood silently against the wall, awaiting direction.  "Bring him some water and a light snack."

The Digimon hurried off at once.  Daisuke thought this was a Floramon.  They came back in moments, just as he was in the mood to start moving again, and offered him a small cup of water and a tray of spicy seaweed senbei.  Daisuke thanked the Digimon and nibbled on the crackers eagerly; they weren't his favorite snack by any means but it was certainly something good to have right about now.

"Why do you thank them?  They're just meaningless bits of data that aren't even sentient,"  Kaiser asked, accepting a tray of daifuku and a bottle of grape ramune.  Daisuke didn't have any idea where that came from.  He couldn't exactly imagine Kaiser going shopping, not these days.  Had he laid in a supply before moving here?

"Because they're not.  They're people,"  Daisuke pointed out.  "And they're just as smart as anyone else. You're around them all the time.  Hadn't you noticed?"

"They're nothing but my slaves,"  Kaiser pointed out.  "They're not nearly as intelligent as I am."  He sipped thoughtfully at his drink.  "But neither are you and you are - somewhat - sentient.

Daisuke wanted to get offended at that.  He settled for being vaguely annoyed and worked on finishing the rice crackers.  "You'd be surprised.  They're a lot smarter than you give them credit for."

"I don't believe so.  If I can conquer this world, then I will."  Kaiser spoke flatly.  "It's what I will do.  And trust me, you are going to end up helping me.  Starting tomorrow, we're going out to recruit new slaves."

Daisuke winced.  He knew he didn't have an option on that, and even if he did, Kaiser wouldn't let him exercise that option.  He finished his snack, waited long enough to be sure he wasn't going to throw up anything he'd eaten, and then got back to his workout.  He could feel the Kaiser's attention on the back of his neck and kept his thoughts on what he was doing instead.  Maybe if he didn't pay attention to those words, he would turn out to have a much more active imagination than he'd originally thought.

Though if he were to be honest with himself, he knew what he'd heard the Kaiser said.  He'd be out there far too soon, doing whatever the Kaiser wanted, in full view of the other Chosen and the Digimon.  His stomach churned even more than it had when he'd still been shaking off the poison. 

As the workout came to an end, Kaiser gestured him over.  Daisuke knew what the bottle Kaiser had was - the antidote.  He had to take at least two doses a day and it was time for his afternoon spoonful.  Kaiser carefully measured it out and Daisuke opened his mouth.  It tasted horrible every time, and the best he could say was that Kaiser often allowed him to follow it with Pocari Sweat, especially if he'd just had a workout.  It tasted pretty good in Daisuke's opinion. 

Wish I didn't have to have that medicine to have this.  Once everything was down and washed down, he watched the Kaiser, waiting for the next orders.  What he would have liked to do was go for a long walk with V-mon, or go talk to his friends.  When that wasn't an option - and it wasn't now - he wasn't sure of what else to do.  Homework wasn't a thing.  There wasn't anyone else he could really talk to around here.  Kaiser liked to torment him, verbally if not physically, and when he wasn't doing that, he seemed to ignore Daisuke. 

"I suppose I could allow you take a nap,"  Kaiser mused, "but then you wouldn't sleep much tonight."

Daisuke kept his lips pressed very tightly together.  He refused to argue that, no matter how much he wanted to.  He kept his attention just off to one side, not staring at Kaiser and not ignoring him, either. 

"I think you need instruction,"  Kaiser said at last.  "You're not as intelligent as I am but I think you could be taught to be useful." 

Daisuke could feel his shoulders tightening.  Lessons?  Homework?  That definitely wasn't what he'd thought living here would be like.  Not that he'd ever thought about living here in the first place.

"Come along."  Kaiser ordered and started off down the corridor.  Daisuke stifled the sigh he wanted to sigh and followed.  He'd gotten very good at moving faster while on his hands and knees - Kaiser got an unholy glee out of seeing him crawl along like that.  The clothes he wore now were reinforced there so they wouldn't wear out as fast with that.  It just added to his list of things that he didn't like about this situation. 

There wasn't much that he did like about it.  So he just made the best of it.

They arrived in a library.  Daisuke wondered what Kaiser would use it for; just because the guy was smart didn't mean he seemed the type to settle down with a good book.  Kaiser seemed more the type to scorn reading for pleasure anyway and devote himself to the most boring technical books, like "How to be a More Effective Super-villain In Three Easy Steps". 

Kaiser regarded the collection with a critical eye before he picked out one book and set it on the table.  "Get up," he ordered, pointing to a plain chair.  "Start reading that.  Let me know what you don't understand when you're done with it."

Daisuke stared at the book.  He'd seen some of what Jun had to carry around for her classes and that one had to be twice as thick as those.  "You've got to be kidding me."

Kaiser raised an eyebrow.  "You're not trying to tell me no, are you?"  There was just a hint of warning in his tone.  Daisuke vividly remembered the last time that he'd not gone with what Kaiser wanted.  He couldn't let that happen again.  So he shook his head.

"It's thick,"  Daisuke said instead.  "What's it about?"  He had a vague hope that it might be interesting.  At least then he could get invested in reading it.  If it were math or history or science, that wasn't as likely.

Kaiser crossed his arms, lips pressed together.  Daisuke moved towards the chair and settled into it.  Being up off his knees felt wonderful and he thought he could get used to reading if it meant he didn't have to crawl around all the time.  He opened the book and peered inside. 

Math.  It was math.  Just his luck.  It seemed to be starting off with the basics at least.  He understood those.  He didn't like it but he could at least manage that.  He started to read through the problems and found a pile of paper and a pen next to him so he could solve problems.  He started working through them all carefully, focusing more than he ever had before.  The Kaiser hadn't said as much but Daisuke got the feeling if he didn't pay attention here, then once again V-mon would suffer for it.  Daisuke wasn't in the mood at all to grovel before the Kaiser, so he focused hard, working to understand.

Daisuke didn't have any idea of how long he was there before the Kaiser very pointedly cleared his throat.  He looked up, rubbed his eyes, and blinked.  He'd barely gotten through a third of the book but he had quite the stack of problems worked out.  Kaiser picked that up and flipped through it.

"Adequate, for now,"  Kaiser pronounced.  "You'll do more tomorrow.  You'll have other classes as you get stronger.  I intend for you to be well versed in the subjects I choose for you.  I don't want an idiot as my servant.  I have enough of that with Wormmon." 

Daisuke blinked again and nodded.  He wanted to protest that Wormmon wasn't an idiot - at least he didn't think the small bug Digimon was.  He hadn't actually talked to him enough to know for certain.  But all in all, this was a whole new dimension of "I hadn't expected this" and he hadn't yet figured out how to deal with it.  Kaiser seemed amused, and that didn't bode well for Daisuke at all.  The more amused Kaiser was, the longer he'd end up being here.  And he wanted to go home.

Kaiser gestured to him.  "It's dinner time.  Come along."  Kaiser turned and headed out of the library.  Daisuke slid down to his knees and started after him.  Kaiser stopped and turned.  "Get up on your feet.  You'll crawl when I tell you to.  Right now you don't need to."

"Oh.  All right."  Daisuke refused to protest about that, of all things.  What he did wish was that Kaiser would be more consistent about what he wanted.  Keeping up with Kaiser's whims was next to impossible.  But right now, he got to his feet, dusted himself off, and followed Kaiser back to the dining area.  Dinner wasn't much different from lunch or breakfast; a good meal that Kaiser ate his own portion of, then fed him by hand, and once it was over, they returned to the main control room.  There he sat back down on the cushion provided and watched as Kaiser checked up on the Chosen and on the inroads he made on Death Rosemon's territory. 

As far as Daisuke could tell, Death Rosemon hadn't noticed anything yet.  The Chosen hadn't done anything beyond destroying a few of the Towers.  He didn't even know if Jun had talked to them yet.  He'd asked her to - he hoped that she would.  But if Kaiser could watch the human world, he hadn't shown it to Daisuke yet. 

Then the scenes on the monitors shifted to reveal a nicely built town in the Digital World.  A thick wooden palisade, apparently recently constructed, encircled it.  Daisuke wondered who lived there, until he saw a small collection of Elecmon and Gotsumon moving around inside of it.  None of them were wearing Rings or Spirals and all of them watched the gate in the palisade nervously. 

"Those are our targets for tomorrow,"  Kaiser said, his hand playing through Daisuke's hair.  "I want a complete capture.  That place will be wiped off the map.  By this time tomorrow there won't be anything left of it.  Not a single sign it was there."

Daisuke couldn't hold back the wince at those emotionless words.  "Why do you do this?"  He kept his voice low, not challenging, just wanting to know.  He didn't think much of his chances to stop the Kaiser from the inside if he didn't know why he did what he did.  Not that it mattered; it was wrong whatever his reasons were.  But if he knew them, then maybe he could find a way.

"Because I am the Digimon Kaiser,"  Kaiser replied simply.  "I rule this world and that means I will dominate every single Digimon that exists.  This is my destiny."

That's a bunch of bull.  Daisuke didn't roll his eyes, at least not outwardly.  He just stayed where he was, wondering why the Kaiser thought that kind of nonsense. 

Kaiser patted Daisuke, fingers finding a few places on the back of Daisuke's neck that soothed the knots that came from kneeling all the time.  "I know you don't understand that.  But you will, in time.  I'll explain it more eventually."

"I thought you said you'd only make me stay here until you were bored with me,"  Daisuke asked cautiously.  If Kaiser wanted to change the rules of this little bargain, then he wanted to know.

"Oh, I will send you away if you're boring.  But I'm going to make sure that you're not.  You're going to learn what I want you to know and do what I want you to do, and that's going to be fascinating.  If you fail to learn, of course, then V-mon will pay for it."  Kaiser smirked down at him.  "Do you understand me?"

Daisuke closed his eyes for a few seconds.  "I do.  I don't like it, but I do.  Master."  He added that last word just because he knew Kaiser would get angry if he didn't.

"You don't have to like it.  All you have to do is as you're told."  Kaiser petted him again.  "Now, I will promise you this.  If you obey me very well tomorrow and assist to the levels I require in taking this place down, then I'll allow you time to visit with V-mon.  Two entire hours."

Daisuke's head jerked up, his heart stuttering in glee.  "You're serious?"

"Of course.  I'm always serious.  Now if you fail me, if you don't live up to my expectations, then you may rest assured you'll next see V-mon marching into battle with one of my Spirals on him." Kaiser's smile chilled Daisuke to the bone.  "So, you're going to be very, very good, aren't you?"

Daisuke pressed his lips together and dropped his eyes.  There weren't even words for how much he hated this or how much he hated the Kaiser for what he was doing.  For everything that Kaiser did.  So he used the only words that he had available to him.

"Yes, Master."  And hoped that the Chosen would be there to turn the tide of battle.  

To Be Continued

Notes: I have some interesting plans for Kaiser’s little test for his new device. He’s going to get far more than he’s bargaining for!

#fanfic #higuchimon writes #digimon adventure 02 #ichijouji ken #motomiya daisuke #ken x daisuke #daisuke x ken #chapters: tough lessons #series: services rendered

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 28)

Disclaimer! Mentions of abuse will occur in this part, a flashback from Mila’s past.

With accustomed fingers, Mila tightens the laces in the well-used, dirty running shoes. First the right one, then the left one. Like a ritual, she simultaneously extends first the right side of her neck, then the left. Her eyes flicker between a cluster of bruises on her knee and the man standing with his back against her, looking out of the window of the old, worn dressing room. The warm coat is free from dust grains and hairs. The dark hair is perfectly combed over his scalp and the scarf that protrudes behind the coat collar is dark navy blue. A poster boy for the state, or rather a man, but also her father, state official Sergey Volkov Yuroshenko. With his tall body and proud attitude, he could just as easily have been the president of Russia himself.

“What a day.” Papa exclaims. “Beautiful. Just perfect.”

Had it not been her father standing there, Mila would have thought that the man at the window was blind. Outside the window it’s completely gray and gloomy. As far from a hot, sunny summer day it could possibly be. 

Probably an old Soviet-era habit. All fathers who mentally remain in the Soviet universe  probably think the same thing; the grayer the better. If it’s not summer and hot as hell and they happen to be parked at the Dacha, drinking vodka. The greater the contrasts the better.

The fog was dense over the landscape while the car drove over almost deserted roads. Mama and Papa in the front seat and Mila in the back seat, half lying, sleeping. She has been driven out of town, to a large sports facility with an athletics track, and a 3.7 mile forest track for cross-country running. Three weeks earlier it was announced on the school’s bulletin board that Mila had been selected to compete in the Moscow district’s cross-country race. Baffled, she stood there feeling anything but happy, while her two friends Vera and Nataliya happily bounced up and down next to her by the big board, overjoyed to be picked to participate in the same competition, but the one for girls. 

“We’ll come and watch, of course!” Vera comforted Mila, as the three girls went to the next lesson.

“Absolutely!” Nataliya agreed.

Mila glances at the window, past Papa and wonders if her two squires are out there somewhere, shivering and waiting for the race to start. 

“I have a feeling that you’ll win. I know you will.”

Mila yawns, doing her best to hide it. To avoid questions and admonitions to go to bed earlier, or to hear that she is a sleepyhead. Is it not enough to go to bed at eight the day before a competition, when all your friends are allowed to be awake until ten?

“Mhm.” 

“You'll make a lasting impression.”

“Maybe because it’s a race for boys.” Mila sighs, lets down her legs and rests her dirty running shoes on the floor, finally saying something from her heart. “Haven’t you noticed we’re all alone in here, Papa? I am the only girl here.” She holds out her arms, as to point out the obvious. “I wanted to be in a race for girls, with other girls. This is-” 

Papa fends off Mila’s proclamation, waving it away with his hand.

“Girls are weak.” 

“I am a girl.”

“Don’t remind me.” 

Mila’s gaze drops. The statement is short, but says it all. No, she shouldn’t remind him. It only makes him upset. 

“This is a great day, for our family.” The voice is hopeful, or rather, full of anticipation. It makes Mila feel a bit unwell, sick. “The whole Moscow district. Many important people are sitting out there watching. A great day, indeed. Lucky us, being here early, so we got seats in the stands. Kirilov and his wife weren't that lucky.” He chuckles. “He works at the office, on the floor below.” The elucidation that the colleague’s tiny, cubic workspace is below his own, real office, with solid walls, seems to cheer him up a bit. “What was the son’s name? Well, Doesn’t matter.” He continues. “They are losers, all of them.” Papa glances at her. “They don’t have what it takes. No. This requires stamina. Discipline.” 

He proudly straightens his back while looking out the window, at the stadium and the forest. Mila feels how the knot in her stomach grows to the size of a cabbage head; knows what’s expected of her. She always knows. Only first place is good enough, especially now, at the district championship. As if he could read her mind, Papa turns to her, with his arms clasped behind his back like an officer inspecting his cadets. The only difference is that it’s not a poor cadet he stares down, but his fourteen-year-old daughter, who will run 3.7 miles, and is expected to do it faster and better than teenagers who are both one and two years older than her. Just because Papa forced her to be better, faster, than her peers, than anyone else. 

“Second best is not enough.” he preaches and walks up to her. “Only the weak are satisfied. You, Milaya, are not weak. You will win. A second place would be trivial.” 

“Like being a damn clerk.” Mila mutters.

It takes a millisecond for her to regret saying it out loud, or barely audible, but Papa has the hearing of a fox. The dark eyes turn almost black and the big hand firmly sweeps through the air before Mila has time to react and duck. It hits the spot where it was intended and Mila falls off the bench and lands on the cold tile floor. With a throbbing head, she feels the large hands close around her neck and prevent air from entering or leaving her trachea as Papa squats over her.

“Don’t talk to me that way, devochka.” he hisses between clenched teeth, while Mila struggles to make him ease the grip around her neck. She clings to the steady, strong wrists and kicks with her legs, but there’s no use. He’s strong and frankly, pissed off. The facade has crackled, as it sometimes does, and anger is directed at her, as always. Maybe because it is always Mila who is the root of the anger, the sadness, the disappointment. One thing is certain, she will not be able to complete the race if he does not let go, soon. “Was that supposed to be funny? Ungrateful-” he breathes through his nose, whereupon he forces a faint smile to appear on his lips, which is anything but happy. He releases the grip and rises. “Do not disappoint me, Milaya. Do.. not..-”

And he leaves the sterile, chill dressing room. The door slams shut and Mila is left alone on the floor. Her heart is racing in her chest and stars dance in front of her eyes. No, she can’t faint now. Instead she coughs, grasps for air. Her chest feels like she’s just been close to drowning. The pain is aching. Angry tears want to escape her eyes, but Mila passes them back into the tear ducts. It could have been worse, she thinks. It could have been much worse. Mila repeats the mantra over and over inside her head as she coughs, and sits up. Bite the bullet, Mila. 

She’s gonna show him. She’s going to show them all. Papa should at least have a reason to- 

On trembling knees Mila rises, leaning against the bench and stumbles over to the dirty mirror on the wall. She looks past the scribbled “Galina loves Pavel” in red marker pencil and meets her own face staring back at her. A pale face with big blue eyes. The long hair is set in a ponytail and the fringe is a bit tangled, due to the fact that the hairdresser sneezed just as she made the cut, one week earlier. The head is set on a long neck, attached to a pair of sharp shoulders. On the side of Mila’s pale face the bruise is already starting to take shape and the lower lip is cracked at the side. Her neck is completely red.

“Zdorovo...” Mila sighs, touches the cracked lip slightly, to get the blood away. “Prosto zdorovo. Just great.”

Bozhe moy, he really did a winner on that hit. At least he didn’t aim for her legs. Smart move, Mila thinks as she adjusts her jaw a little, making the lip sting slightly. Then she wouldn’t have been able to run. 

Swearing, Mila staggers into the small toilet, a sad look; she turns on the tap, which of course only has cold water to offer her, splashes it on her face and shivers throughout the body. She blinks the water out of her eyes and looks out the open door, through the window in the other room, out at the gray weather. Spring sure takes its time this year. It’s freezing outside. Mila looks down at her poor, scrawny, bare legs in the red shorts. At least it’s not the river Volga in the middle of the winter. Positive thoughts. 

At the same time, the angry signal bounces over the area, finds its way into the changing room and announces that the race is about to start within ten minutes. Papa has given his ‘pep talk’ and has probably sat down next to Mama at this point in the stands, probably drinking Mama’s homemade hot Sbiten and eating sandwiches. Well, now it’s Mila’s time to do her part. It’s showtime. 

She leaves the shabby dressing room and steers her steps towards the edge of the forest, prepared to win a marathon. She has to. Taglist:  @lonewolf471

#jersey on my mind #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x oc #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fandom #the walking dead fanficition #twd fanfiction #twd daryl #twd fanfic #twd #daryl fanfiction

[impala-dreamer]

Lesson Learned

SPN FanFic

~When you mouth off at Castiel after a long day of him being a jerk, things get a little...rough.~

Castiel x Reader

1,830 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Dom!Cas, sub!reader, Grace!Kink, Punishment, Bondage, Suspension, Whipping, Edging, Begging, Grace used in very unholy ways, fluffy finish.

A/N: This stands for my Dom!Cas square on @spnkinkbingo, and was commissioned by the lovely @mariekoukie6661. Hope you and everyone reading enjoys :) If you can leave some feedback, it’s much appreciated ;)

Feedback is Gold ~ 2019 SPNKinkBingo Masterlist  ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

“You.”

His voice echoed through the War Room, stopping you in your tracks as you tried to leave his presence.

“What!” you hissed, turning to glare at him over your shoulder. He was being an asshole; recklessly screaming at anyone who came near, refusing to listen to reason, ignoring your help. You were furious.

Not as furious as he, apparently. The tone in your voice seemed to flip a tiny switch in his mind, and blue eyes turned fierce as they narrowed in your direction. “You, stay.” The command was full of gravel and ire, but you pressed your luck, turning your nose in the air as you spun back towards the door.

“Screw you, Castiel.”

He was on you in a heartbeat, big hand curling tight around your upper arm. He leaned down, cracked lips pressing to your ear. “What did you say to me, girl?”

Your throat was as tight as his grip, but you held your ground. “I said, screw...you.”

The tips of his fingers burned through your shirt sleeve, blunt nails digging into your flesh. He exhaled slowly and you felt your mouth run dry.

“Bedroom,” he seethed. “Now.”

Defiance clicked your tongue. Disobedience moved your lips. “Or what?”

You refused to look him in the eye, keeping your gaze straight ahead, mentally counting the steps to the bedrooms. Castiel’s stern stare bore into you, every slow blink threatening to rip you apart. Underneath the fancy suit lay a rocket whose fuze was about to run out.

He let you go, taking a walk around you instead. You crossed your arms and kept your head up, sucked your teeth in annoyance, all the little things that by doing dug your hole even deeper. You knew what you were doing, of course, but he had been acting like a dick, so he needed a little reset.

Unfortunately, the only reset button that was to be pressed, was yours.

“Do you truly wish to continue this behavior?” he asked, almost calmly, just a hint of fire on his tongue.  

You puckered your lips and shrugged, finally turning to look him dead in the eye. “Go fuck yourself, angel.”

Of all the things you had done in your life, not many, even the bad ones, held regret.

Telling Castiel, Angel of the Lord, Warrior of Heaven, to go fuck himself became one of the rare things you wished you could take back. In fact, if a crossroads was anywhere nearby, you’d be selling your soul for a do over.

To subdue your sass-laced tongue, Castiel had fit you with a tight leather muzzle, complete with rubber ball stuffed roughly between your teeth. You could do little more than groan around it, and you did so with as much attitude as you could inject into your wordless curses.

Castiel gave your harness a random tug as he walked around you, jerking your head backwards a bit, just enough to elicit a moan.

“Have you learned your lesson, girl?” he spat, stepping around to look you in the eye.

You mumbled as much of a ‘No’ as was possible, and a line of hot drool fell from the right side of your mouth.

“Pity.” His eyes burned as he reached out to grab your cheeks in one big hand, turning your face until you had no choice but to look at him. “You will.”

You struggled to pull away, but Castiel knew you better than anyone else and had rigged a nice punishment for you. Your hands were cuffed together with cracked black leather and suspended high above your head by heavy ropes that met at a single hook in the ceiling. The ropes pulled you upwards, lengthening your spine and forcing you to stand on the balls of your feet, no easy feat for a hunter who usually spent her time in flat hiking boots.

Another muffled snip from you and Castiel shook his head, backing slowly away. He kept his eyes on yours until he hit the seat across the room.

“What am I to do with a stubborn little brat like you?” His lips curled in a sinister grin as your bare legs began to shake. The muscles in your calves stung, and your toes ached. “I thought we’d beaten all the back talk out of you a long time ago.” He blinked slowly and your breath stopped. “I guess we’ll have to do it again.”

Castiel licked his lips and sent a wave of Grace to attack you, striking your back like the hard crack of a whip before flooding into you with a soothing warmth. Your body jerked and then instantly melted, confused by the pain and comfort of the action. Another jolt and your eyes rolled back.

“You’re going to remember the things you’ve been taught,” Castiel said quietly, sitting with his arms crossed, one finger tapping his chin. “You’re going to remember what it means to be my good girl, and then maybe we can forget your little...misstep today. Although, I rather like seeing you all tied up like this.”

The sapphire of his eyes burned bright for a split second and you felt his touch deep inside your pussy, filling and stretching with a mind numbing heat. You moaned pathetically, your shoulders trying to drop, but not getting very far. As desire started to drip down your thighs, Castiel’s touch vanished and the Grace struck you again. The whip was harsh but the pleasure was intense, wrapping around you like a heavy kiss after each strike.

Before long, your knees were useless and your arms began to bear the brunt of your weight; hands desperately grabbing onto the ropes as you tried to ease the strain on your arms. Weak, sloppy, and dangling, the onslaught continued. Lightning followed by bliss, over and over until your chest was soaked with your drool and your cunt leaked like a faucet.

Castiel watched closely, diligently monitoring your vitals and your aura, but it wasn’t necessary. He knew exactly how much you could take and ignored your whimpering cries as his Grace worked on you.  

Finally, you could take no more and your body slumped down, wrists snagging on the cuffs, head dropping onto your chest.

“Twenty minutes, not bad,” Castiel praised, impressed by your stamina.

Quickly, he stood up and opened your cuffs, carefully bracing you against his firm body as the leather let you go. You fell into his arms, head rolling uselessly against this chest. You groaned but Castiel soothed you with a kiss atop your forehead as he hoisted you up.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he whispered as he arranged your tired limbs on the bed. A flutter of eyelids was all the response you could give and Castiel placed his hands behind your head, fingers toying with the muzzle clasp. He leaned into you as he reached and your mind filled with his scent. The wind before a summer storm, sunshine on fresh grass, it invaded your senses and your body ached for him.

“Are you ready to speak to me properly, girl?”

You nodded helplessly and looked up with darkened eyes; lust pushing away all thoughts of muscle strain or the bright lines that surely covered your back.

“Good.”

The pressure in your jaw finally eased as Castiel slowly pulled out the gag and you gasped in relief.

“Thank you, Sir.” It almost hurt to speak, your tongue too tired to move properly.

Castiel fit himself snugly between your legs and braced himself above on his arms, loosened tie dipping down between your naked breasts. “How are you feeling?” His tone had softened, but the annoyance of earlier was still there.

You chose your words carefully. “So wet and so very sorry, Sir.” You wiggled against him; wet pussy on sleek trousers.

“Sorry for what?” he hissed, eyes glowing with dominance and Grace.

“I’m...I’m sorry for…”

The Grace swirled around your nipples, tickled at your clit, swam into your mouth, distracting every word as it struggled to leave your lips.

“For t-talking, talking back to you…oh, God! For m-m-m… Mouthing off. For disobeying!”

Pleasure was revving inside of you like a Harley engine and Castiel had his hand on the throttle.

“I’m sorry!”

Right at the edge, everything stopped. Grace retreated and you could breathe again, although faster and louder than you should have.

“Please, Sir. Please…”

Castiel rocked his hips forward just an inch and you bit your lip to keep quiet as your pussy instinctively rubbed against him.

“Please, what?”

You reached for his belt, desperate to feel him, but he slapped your hands away.

“I asked you a question, girl,” he sneered. “Now, answer me, or back up you go.”

“I...please, I need to cum, Sir!” It all came tumbling from your lips on a heavy exhale and you wiggled against him harder. “Please fuck me, please!” You clawed at him, clutching his tie in both hands, and Castiel growled.

“Is that what you need, Little Girl?” he asked, grabbing both of your wrists in one swoop of his left hand and pinning them above your head. “You need to be fucked back into submission?”

Your eyes rolled as his breath hit your lips. “Yes, Sir. Please…”

“Nasty, foul-mouthed human,” he spat as he shoved his free hand down between your bodies to open his zipper.

“Fuck me, Sir. Please!”

“Nothing but a begging slut, aren’t you?”

He drove inside without hesitation and you cried out in reply. “Yes, Sir!”

Castiel dipped his head and kissed you hard, swallowing down your passionate screams as he fucked into you, quickly taking you right back to the edge. When he felt you tighten, when your heart began to race in a flurry of beats that only his angelic ears could hear, he sent out one final wisp of Grace to push you over, the Heavenly warmth filling every cell and fiber of your corporeal being.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” he whispered gently, stealing another kiss from your trembling lips. “Do it.”

The hook on the ceiling sat unused, but your eyes were locked onto it, remembering all the delicious torture you’d just endured. You shivered at the memory and snuggled into Castiel, thankful that he’d finally shed his clothing to allow you to sleep against his skin.

“Sam’s not gonna be happy if he sees you drilling holes into the walls and stuff,” you teased with a small yawn. “He gets cranky about ‘preserving history’ or whatever.”

Castiel laughed gently and kissed the top of your head. “I think I can handle Sam.” His strong arms pulled you closer and you melted into him, nuzzling in the crook of his neck. “Are you feeling alright?”

You hummed positively and gave him a quick kiss. “I am.”

“And have you learned your lesson?”

A shiver crept down your spine as you looked back up at the hook. “Yes, Sir,” you confirmed quickly. “Lesson learned.”

2019 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @arses21434 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @because-imma-lady-assface @burningcoffeetimetravel @colagirl5 @cosicas-cuquis @cosmicfire72 @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @dean-winchesters-bacon @deansenwackles @deansgirl215 @deanmonandnegansbitch​   @dolphincliffs @dubuforeveralone @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @eternal-elir @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @gayspacenerd @hella-aj-the-trickers-son @herbologystudent252 @hobby27 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus​ @katymacsupernatural @lastactiontricia @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mysticmaxie @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @peridot-rose @pisces-cutie @risingphoenix761 @roonyxx @roxyspearing @sandlee44 @shadowkat-83 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnficgirl @supernaturaldean67 @supernatural-took-me-over @thehardcoveraddict @tmiships4life @wegoddessofhell @winchesterprincessbride

#spn fanfic #castiel x reader #spnkinkbingo #cas x reader #hardcre

[shatter-senbonzakura]

NSFW Alphabet | Sousuke Aizen

A = Aftercare

After the very exciting activity between Aizen and his dear s/o, he would first clean up his partner very carefully and later on take care of himself. Once he is done cleaning up both of them in an exerted manner, he then lays in bed next to his partner. Pulling the blanket up to cover their bodies and hugging his s/o close, whispering sweet nothings into his partner’s ear as they both slowly fall into sleep for the night peacefully.

B = Body part, favorite body part

Aizen would have a hard time finding which part of the body he likes most about his s/o. Tongue? Hands? Legs? Thighs? All of them were good in one way or the other. Really, it was a tough decision. But if he really had a choice he would have went with thighs. The way that they would squish his head when he’s licking his s/o’s clit, the way that they feel so soft and mushy. But overall, he would say every part of the body of his s/o is his favorite.

C = Cum

There has not been one time where he hadn’t licked his s/o’s goods of his finger whenever he was done prepping them. Especially because embarrassing his s/o was fun, or because he genuinely likes the taste. Either way, he still does it and he does not plan on stopping any time soon. He plans to continue doing it for as long as he lives.

D = Dirty Secret

One of his biggest dirty secrets would be his s/o saying “Oh god,” during their making love session. It makes him feel superior, feel as if he was on top of god if they called him that. Not that he has a god kink but of course he enjoys being on top of others, in more ways than one. There is just this warm, giddy type of feeling he gets whenever his s/o would just blurt that out while they are doing it.

E = Experience

Aizen would probably have experienced this at least over twenty times for however long as he lived. He is attractive, charming, and endearing. How could anyone possibly deny him? It is impossible to do so when he just looks so incredibly hot. Even if some may not be hypnotized by him, he plans to change that. And Aizen always like a good challenge so he will get what he wants, therefore he will make those who deny him, want him. Desire him. Yearn for more.

F = Favorite Position

Aizen’s possible favorite position would be missionary. He likes to see his partner’s face, especially if it was from pleasure. He likes to caress their face while they are doing it, and having their legs wrapped around him. It makes things a lot more passionate in his book.

G = Goofy

When has Aizen not been serious? This is no different so of course, he will take this very seriously. The only monologuing he will do during the moment is dirty talking, not joking.

H = Hair

Aizen keeps his hair maintained, as you could probably tell. He does put gel on it often but when he is home, he takes it off right away and brushes it. Then he goes to go take a shower or washes his hair at least.

I = Intimacy

He does get very romantic at most times but if his s/o has done something bad during the day or the day after, that is where he will start being a bit rough. He does have a sadistic side but he doesn’t really show it often. He likes being lovey-dovey to his partner, it makes him feel somewhat happy to see that his partner is happy with him just being gentle. If his s/o, however, asks for a request for them to be a bit rougher, then he will happily oblige.

J = Jack Off

Aizen doesn’t really masturbate often. He has things to do but if his s/o sends him something like nudes in the middle of nowhere, he will probably try to find the time and do so. But he doesn’t find it necessary.

K = Kink

One of his kinks would probably be making marks. In a way, he tends to be territorial or a bit protective. He likes to make sure others know what is his so that they won’t mess with it, being his own property or his s/o. He isn’t afraid of making marks on his s/o, he is just a little worried that his s/o wouldn’t want that, so he doesn’t make that much marks on his s/o yet.

L = Location

His favorite place would definitely be the bedroom, mainly because there is a bed. And a soft surface to lay on while doing it. Aizen does want to do it in other places but he isn’t so sure if his s/o would like risking it in the public, so he’ll just wait for a while until they are ready.

M = Motivation

The thing that would most likely Aizen to continue, to do more, is his s/o themself. He likes hearing their moans, likes seeing them scrunch up the sheets underneath, likes having the feel of their legs beside him (or on top of his shoulder) while they’re doing it, the way they tighten up once he starts to pick up the pace and how soft they feel on the inside.

N = NO

If you ask about eating eggs after sex, he will most likely not do it with you for a week. It depends.

O = Oral

Aizen would definitely be the one giving, because who would really try and dominate him? No one could, therefore he is always on top. And yes, he is very skilled. After all, he has gotten experience before.

P = Pace

Most of the time, he goes slow because he likes sharing and savoring the moment with his s/o, no matter how many times they have done it. But if he is on the brink of releasing, then he will speed up and go in rougher than usual.

Q = Quickie

Preferably, he wouldn’t do them but if his s/o teased him a little too well then he will probably do a quick one. It isn’t often but it is sometimes.

R = Risk

It all really depends on his s/o. If they are curious, he wouldn’t mind experimenting with them. Besides, he thinks it would be a good idea to try out new things. Sometimes, sticking with old things all the time could get boring after a while and it might not be his thing anymore. But he also wouldn’t mind if his partner wants to stick with the usual vanilla stuff.

S = Stamina

There are times where he is restless and full of energy but he usually just rests with his s/o. He doesn’t like the idea of exhausting his s/o all for his own pleasure. He can wait, he is a patient man. Besides, sometimes, they would go for about 3-4 rounds at most.

T = Toys

Aizen would own things like ropes, blindfold, gag, nothing out of the ordinary. He only owns things like those so that he can keep his partner in line, in case they misbehave one day. Then, he’ll give them a lesson with the toys.

U = Unfair

Without a doubt, he would never miss an opportunity to try and tease his s/o. It works all the time. His s/o would get so embarrassed that they’ll just be hiding behind their hands and then he’ll take those hands away, pinning their wrists while smiling down at them. Also compliment on how good they are behaving at that moment, flustering his s/o further.

V = Volume

Aizen barely makes any sounds. Even if he did, they would just be groans, pants, or small, breathy gasps. They would be barely audible or noticeable though since his s/o would be so caught up in the moment that they wouldn’t take note of his sounds. Which he is thankful for.

W = Wildcard

Aizen likes going out at areas like parks, hills, somewhere peaceful so that he and his s/o can just hangout. It doesn’t have to require talking, he likes taking in the environment around them while hugging/snuggling close to his s/o. He also tends to give his s/o head pats, since it’s his main gesture of affection.

X = X-Ray

Nothing to see here, just your normal x-ray with Aizen’s big d***.

Y = Yearning

Sousuke-fucking-Aizen never begs, never yearns for things. Unless it is the hogyoku, it’ll be the exception. But other than that, no. He will let his partner come to him and beg for him to take them. He’ll tease them, saying, “no,” but he will eventually. He just has to see how desperate his s/o will get for him.

Z = Zzzz...

Aizen would stay up for about 10 minutes after the sex, then pass out with his partner. He does have a lot of stamina after all and he spends those minutes just admiring his partner, kissing their cheek or doing something else, maybe read if he and his s/o aren’t tangled up together.

-Admin Jammy

#aizen #bleach #bleach headcanons #aizen sosuke #sosuke aizen

[prognatae-a]

MAGIC - feat. evie, ginny, jay, mal, maddie, raven & annie

below the cut you will find a short description of the magic styles of each of my muses that possess magic in some form. as this will affect my portrayal of certain characters i would high recommend reading this post 

Evie Grimhilde

Evie is a self-titled witch, though most people often forget about that since she's so quick to drop the role of 'princess' long before she ever reminds anyone she's a magic user. But the truth is, she's been reading her mother's spell book since she could read, and has memorised every single page. She could, if she wanted, be a very adept witch. However, she also sees the magic ban as something that needs to be adhered to, so tends not to use any magic at all, which only helps perpetuate the idea that she doesn't have any.

The other thing of note is that Evie is also capable of making potions and poisons, these two are stored in her mother's books and these too she has memorised to be used if needed. She's incredibly competent at it, as it's just like chemistry really. This is another skill she has, but doesn't use. Underestimate her power at your peril.

Ginny Gothel

Loosely based off of the Mother Gothel villains book, Ginny is a necromancer. Gothel was one too, but her powers were weak due to an error in what should have been the magic handover from her own mother. While pregnant with Ginny, Gothel employed every technique prescribed to her by witches to assure her daughter the power that she had been denied. This leads Ginny to believe that her father, although a sore subject, might be a magic user of some kind.

Despite the obvious flaws in the plan, Ginny has been taught the skills she needs to be a necromancer, in the chance that the barrier were ever to fail. Her magic is skewed towards the dead and the dying and you should never accept the offer of healing from her, because it doesn't mean what you think it does. Breaking the laws of nature is no mean feat, however, and her magic quickly leaves her drained. It is a more ritualistic magic than a combat one. She can't use magic on the fly via rhyming couplets or anything like that, her spells require preparation.

Jay Ayad

Even though there is no magic on the Isle of the lost, it doesn't change the actual physical make-up of a person. and Jafar wished himself into being a genie. That doesn't go away simply because the Isle prevents the use of magic. Making Jay half-genie, though genie is the dominant magical gene there. He is, at first, unaware of this. There's no magical transformation the second he gets outside the barrier or anything, namely because his lamp is on the inside of it.

Somewhere in there is a lamp that belongs specifically to him, once he touches it, or someone else rubs it, his magic will trigger for the  first time and he will take on the role of a full genie. Since it would make sense for genies to come with their lamps, it is most likely his mother who has his lamp, but since Jafar won't tell him anything about her, he doesn't know and probably won't be able to find her.

His full genie powers encompass literally anything anyone could ever wish for, though while he is chained to the lamp he can only do so much. Should someone wish him free, he will retain some, but not all, of the power and exist as an incredibly powerful magical being in his own right.

Mal Faery

Mal is a very complicated magical individual. They are a dark fairy and a demi-god all in one. Their fairy magic operates almost exactly like that of a witch or sorceress, being capable of being used in quick-fire capacity as rhyming couplets, but also being able to prepare magical spells and concoctions over time (like the love spell cookies) and drop large scale curses. They also have the power to turn into a dragon, in which form they can breathe fire and fly. Most of this is standard magical practice. They also have the power to make fairy deals, meaning they can seal people into verbal or written promises with dreadful consequences if they don't adhere to it- but people can also seal them into promises too.

Being a demi-god, however, gives them the ability to utilise god items (like the ember), extra strength and stamina and, specifically, some powers akin to that of their godly ancestor. Mal could make soul bargains, or speak to the dead if they wanted.

There's probably more needs to go here. Mal is a powerful individual, but most of their magic is going to come from rhyming couplets or potions, or being an outright dragon.

Maddie Hatter

Maddie is not a magical being, in that she cannot use magic, she doesn't wield power like everyone else on this list, but she does contain some inherent Wonderland, that makes her slightly more magical than the average person. She can perform impossible acts, any impossible act, only as long as she doesn't know it's impossible. Once someone tells her that it should be impossible, she can no longer perform the act.

She also has the ability to produce almost anything out of the rabbit hole in her hat. It mostly contains the means for having tea at a moment's notice and she's never tried to pull anything more useful out of it. So it's possible she simply has a portal that can create the perfect tea time.

Raven Grimhilde

Raven, much like Evie, is a witch. Though she prefers the term sorceress. She was even given lessons in magic by her mother for this purpose. She is much more interested in using magic than Evie is, though her use for it is almost never personal gain. She's actual quite open with her magic. Most of her spells don't require rhyming couplets, simply sheer force of will, though they are nothing out of the ordinary for a witch. She can telekinetically lift objects and throw balls of purple fire from her hands if she needs to. She's also capable of some, rudimentary flight, if necessary.

Raven is capable of making potions, but she doesn't remember them half as well as her sister and tends to go off-book. Somehow, she always gets the result she wanted, though.

Rosanna Maudire

Annie is an enchantress like her mother. She specialises in curses and magic that teaches people lessons, rather than just using magic for the day-to-day. This doesn't mean she's not capable of it, she is, it's just not been a part of her training or something she's particularly interested in. She's an exceptional potion maker, though her speciality is healing poultices.

As an enchantress, she is capable of infusing items with power, enchanting them for a certain period of time with a certain property, like a sword with an extra sharp blade, or a flower that never wilts. Once the barrier drops she's happy to provide this service for people willing to pay.

She is more powerful with a wand.

#⦓ evie grimhilde ⸢ headcanon. ⸥ ⦔ #⦓ ginny gothel ⸢ headcanon. ⸥ ⦔ #⦓ jay ayad ⸢ headcanon. ⸥ ⦔ #⦓ mal faery ⸢ headcanon. ⸥ ⦔ #⦓ maddie hatter ⸢ headcanon. ⸥ ⦔ #⦓ raven grimhilde ⸢ headcanon. ⸥ ⦔ #⦓ annie maudire ⸢ headcanon. ⸥ ⦔

[matildainmotion]

Rejection, Failures and Fxck Ups – A New, or Very Old, Approach to Loss and Losing

          “It’s okay to make mistakes – that’s how you learn;” “It’s the taking part that counts -the playing, not the winning;” “If you can learn to lose that will be a huge achievement.” I hear myself saying these and similar truisms when my daughter comes last in a race with her impossibly long-legged brother, or breaks a cup, or spills her drink, or when my son’s carefully planned prank goes awry, or the drawing he is trying to do does not come out right. In such moments of acute vulnerability my daughter howls – a cry of deep and terrible anguish, that can go on for a great many minutes after the original loss. I noticed even when she was a baby that falling, for her, was failing, an injury not so much to her body as her soul- as if the ground had deliberately struck her, undermining her upright dignity. My son, on the other hand, does not howl, but rather bares his teeth, makes fists, swings punches at me or anyone else who might have witnessed and therefore in some way contributed to his sense of failure. In both instances, when they weep and wail, gnash teeth - because on a child-scale their circumstances seem serious and awful - I have comforted them and then come out with some version of the above statements. They are trite but I have believed that the basic message – ‘it’s fine to fail’ – was a sound one. At least, that’s what I thought until last week.

           Last Friday I experienced two forms of failure which, on an adult-scale, were really very minor. One was the culmination of a writing competition, run by a literary agency – the prize: mentorship and representation. I had not entered it to win – I had entered it in order to have a focus, a deadline, to practice submitting my fiction, rather than hiding with it in a secret corner. The winners were due to be announced on Friday. Despite being clear my primary motivation for entering was not winning, despite being certain I would not be selected, come Friday morning I was nervous. I was checking Twitter for the announcement and felt a strange mix of repulsion and respect for those on there who were frank enough to tweet, with nail-biting gifs, about their angst, their aspirations, their hope. Hope - Dickinson’s feathered thing but, despite the feathers, the only item not to fly out from Pandora’s box- a quiet, little creature with wondrous and terrible tenacity. On Friday I wanted to get the damn thing out of the box. I wanted it to fly away. I tried hard to shake it loose - it wouldn’t budge. I was feeling hopeful.

           Meanwhile, down the hill, at our allotment, there were some other little things in a box, that did not yet have feathers, only fluff: chicks. I hadn’t been hopeful about the eggs. We had collected them from a faraway farm – in theory they were fertilised but the woman who sold them to us did so for half price because, she said, “It’s late in the season and I can’t be sure. I’ll give you a variety to give you a better chance.” And then, on top of that, our broody hen (the Star Wars-inspired ‘Princess Layer’), at first rejected the pale blue ones that did not look like hers, and only later started sitting on them, so I thought they had probably got too cold and nothing was going to hatch. But Thursday morning, four weeks after she first went broody, sitting day in day out in the dark of the nest box, I lifted up the Princess and lo and behold there was a broken shell, and a tiny, wet, cheeping chick. Friday morning, after checking Twitter, I pedalled down the hill to the hens. Chick number one had fluffed up to full yellow cuteness and been joined by chick number two. Little wings, dark eyes, pale pink claws. I thought that was it, and began to take the other eggs, the pale blue ones, away. But as I lifted an egg, I saw a black spy hole in its shell, and behind the hole – motion - someone inside. I felt small, in awe, as if whoever was within knew things I didn’t, couldn’t. Breath held, heart fast, I put the eggs back. Here was hope in action. An actual hatching - the Easter pinup – the most famous of images for spring, for life returning.

           By Friday evening I had not won the competition and the chick was dead. It had hatched after hours of work – who knew hatching could be so like a human labour in its length and intensity? Yet it had managed, had come out whole -a bold bundle of breath, blood, beak, incontrovertible evidence that whichever came first – chicken or egg – the result was the same: life. But then it had been weaker than the others, who had had a head start, and the broody hen was growing restless – when I came back to check on them before bed, I found it lying, limp, still warm, thin eyelids down, little claws unclenched, half buried in the straw. If I had come earlier, if I had separated it, if I had cleared out the straw…maybe it would have lived.

        I have been very lucky – I have never had a miscarriage or a still birth. This was only a little chick. Nonetheless I felt broken. I tried out the truisms that I have used on my children a thousand times - they did not cut it. Worse than that – they seemed offensive. I wanted to howl like my daughter, and rage like my son. They knew something I didn’t. Just like that chick did. So I gave up trying to teach my children how to lose with grace and decided to consider instead what I might learn from them.

           My son goes from one obsession to the next, as many children do, but he does so with particular, on-the-spectrum intensity. Feb to April was My Little Pony. April to June was Beast Quest. He is now onto the Greek myths. To be fair there is some consistency through this- believe it or not both My Little Pony and Beast Quest draw heavily on Greek mythology for inspiration. This is the first time his obsessions have overlapped with mine - in my writing I am also working on a Greek myth. What strikes me as I study the stories through my son’s eyes is that they are full of characters, divine and mortal, who fail, fall and fxck up royally, who lose face, lose their lovers and their loved ones, and that when they do, they are terrible losers. The heroes and heroines in these myths don’t hold back on their howling and their raging. They cry for weeks, years even. They cry so hard they change shape or change the world around them. They swear vengeance for their losses, plan awful punishments, wage long and horrible wars. No one tells Hector, Achilles, Paris: “Never mind mate – it’s the taking part that counts.” Now I am not proposing to use the ancient Greek myths as a new model for mothering, but there is something relieving about their heroes unashamed and often moving melodramas, about their sense of seriousness and ceremony. Inspired by these myths, my son held a burial for the chick, by the raspberry bushes on the allotment. He knelt and said a prayer to Zeus, and then to Hades and Persephone, asking them to welcome the little creature when it arrived with them, to let it fly free. This was after he had railed at me for an hour – crying, shouting, trying to punch me, beating the wall, accusing me of murder – full on, proper grief, worthy of those ancient Greeks. It struck me I could have done the same with my writing disappointment: printed out the webpage announcing the happy winners, then wept upon it bitterly. Built a ceremonial fire, burnt the paper, whilst sending off my prayers for the Herculean stamina and strength required to keep writing. What I’m trying to say is that I’m aware I have been guilty of that crime our culture commits daily- tidying disappointment and loss away too quickly, making it constructive, sidestepping the difficulty, heading straight for claiming: “I’ve learnt my lesson. I’m fine. I’m over it.”  

           In the modern mythic classic, We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, written by Michael Rosen, illustrated by Helen Oxenbury, a book more befitting my daughter’s than my son’s age bracket, each time the children encounter a new obstacle in the landscape – long grass, mud, a river, a snowstorm- they chant:

We can't go over it. We can't go under it. Oh no! We've got to go through it!

This is the insight that my children, a small chick and some Greek gods have reminded me of in the last week: you’ve got to go through it. Not over it, not under it, not round it, but through it. I did know this before – I know how excruciating it is when someone tries to teach you a lesson, give advice, instead of being present with the pain of where you are. But I had not recognised the extent to which I have been doing this with my children, because their losses seem so slight, so trivial when I hold them up against the stark losses in the world. I see now that I’ve been getting everything the wrong way round: I’ve been comparing the children’s worries to the world’s, instead of the world’s worries to theirs, instead of recognising that they hold some wisdom that I and the world need now. Ours is the age in which it is clear that we have made some cataclysmic mistakes, that we keep making them, that we are a generation of losers and those that come after us will inherit a whole lot of loss. There is no way round it. We can’t go over it. We can’t go under it. A global pandemic. Racial injustice. Climate change. Oh no! We’ve got to go through it! This means weeping for weeks. Howling for months. Raging for years. But doing so consciously and creatively. When my children do this, I think they are rehearsing themselves, rehearsing me. This is not about being hopeless. I believe that going through it, with full feeling and ceremony, is the most hopeful thing we can do – the thing that will earn us feathers. Maybe we can weep enough to change ourselves, a metamorphosis as marvellous as that of a Greek god.

           To go through it, there are some things we are going to need. Two of these things are the stuff of the gods: care and creation, or, to use other words, mothering and making. In all myths, in all traditions, this is what the gods do- they make stuff and they look after stuff. The two go together: we look after things because we made them, and we make things because we care. Arguably ‘Mothers Who Make’ is a terrible tautology, and caring and creating may even be the same – they both involve a kind of holding. When the chick died, I had to hold my son while he tried to hit me. Later I had to hold a ritual with him. At a time when all the theatres are closed, it seems to me, we need theatre more than ever. Be it online or outdoors, we need to build symbolic fires, stages to hold our grief, our rage, our fear, our hope. We need to perform these things- it is what will get us through. Secret creations and collaborations got people through the concentration camps. The late and legendary civil rights activist John Lewis said: “If it hadn’t been for music, the civil rights movement would have been like a bird without wings.” Art is not a luxury, a nice diversion – it is the way through, not round.

           So, what will I do next time my daughter falls over, or my son messes up his drawing? I hope I will pause and consider this: maybe there is a point to crying over spilt milk. Maybe next time it spills we will weep the same weight in tears as the milk that is pooling, white, across the kitchen table. Maybe we will lie in it, mop it up with our clothes, then run outside and do a dance to the milk gods, to celebrate the milk and say sorry for its loss, and then we will run to the river, dive in, wash our clothes and ourselves, while we sing a song of cleansing, and then we will walk back, dripping new. I am playing with this so as to bring it home to myself, so that when the next rejection, mistake, failure, loss befalls me or the children, I have the courage not to mop it up too fast. Instead of my teaching them to lose with acceptance, I hope that we may discover together how to lose with passion and imagination.

           So, here are my questions for you for the month of August (coming to you at the end of July): Tell me about your rejections, your failures, your losses- your own? your children’s? What do you do when loss comes? Do you weep? or rage? or both? Can you do so more, as if you were inside a Greek myth, do so consciously? And what ritual, ceremony or creative act can you perform to get you through it? What can you do to earn your feathers?

[yasxgamal]

Basic Information

Full name: Yasin Gamal Pronunciation: ee-ah-ceen gah-mah-l Nickname(s): Yas, E. Birthdate: November 20th, 1986 Age: 34 Zodiac: Scorpio Gender: Male Pronouns: He/him/his Romantic orientation: Panromantic Sexual orientation: Pansexual Nationality: English Ethnicity: Egyptian Current location: London, UK Living conditions: Yas' place is a one-bedroom mess. It's a good flat, spacious and in a good location, all things considered, but he's not the best at decorating. Apart from the very odd artwork or two hanging crookedly on the walls, there isn't much more to it. He keeps his space clean and tidy when he has the time to do that, but it's not a very personal place. Also probably smells like smoke most of the time -- or, air freshener if he's trying to impress you.

Background

Birthplace: London, UK Hometown: London, UK Social Class: Wealthy if you count the parents' money, Middle if you consider his own money and lifestyle currently, and his tendencies to waste it all on cigarettes. Educational achievements: A really fancy degree in Computer Sciences and Computer Engineering at the most expensive college in the UK Father: Omar Gamal Mother: Safiya Gamal Sibling(s): Samir Gamal and Aisha Gamal. Birth order: Samir, Yas, Aisha is the youngest. Pets: Ramen, the stray cat that crawls in through his window and occasionally spends weeks sleeping inside, and then disappears for months on end. Previous relationships: One big relationship in college for 3 years, a miserable breakup. Then mostly only casual things after that, none he would consider true relationships. Arrests: N/A Prison time: N/A

Occupation & Income

Current occupation: Programmer for the Time Machine project Dream occupation: Programmer for the first working Time Machine Past job(s): College Era: various internships, waiter, freelance photographer for kids' parties, freelance I.T., tech teacher for the elderly, tech teacher for children, coder and manager for a pornographic film company's website. Post-College Era: has helped coding and programming several apps and softwares independently, then a stable job at GoodCore Software Ltd. as SQA Lead. Spending habits: Yas spends a lot on cigarettes and technology, but everything else he doesn't care enough for. In debt?: No Most valuable possession: Emotionally, his own laptop or phone, and all the photos and memories stored in them, as well as his work. Legally and monetarily, though, it's the BAFTA statuette from his sister, which he now gets to keep for a year because he won a bet (it's fine, she has more than one).

Skills & Abilities

Physical strength: Average Speed: Average Intelligence: Above Average when it comes to all things technology, Average on some other subjects. Accuracy: Average Agility: Above Average Stamina: Above Average Teamwork: Great in environments where everyone is delegated a certain job and he gets to do his thing in his corner to add to the mix. When it comes to people wanting to mess with his codes, he gets a bit stubborn and difficult to deal with. Shortcomings: often lets his pride ruin things, a bit of an inflated ego when it comes to his work, bad at communicating. Languages spoken: English, Arabic Drive?: Yes Jump-start a car?: No Change a flat tyre?: Yes Ride a bicycle?: Poorly Swim?: Yes Play an instrument?: If you count the guitar lessons in his childhood (he does) Play chess?: Yes Braid hair?: No Tie a tie?: Yes Pick a lock?: No Cook?: Yes, the very bare minimum, and he hardly does it.

Physical Appearance & Characteristics

Faceclaim: Rami Malek Eye colour: Greyish green Hair colour: Black Hair type/style/length: Shaved on the sides, originally short on top but it grows out too fast and he can't be bothered to get a haircut, so it grows out curly. When it starts to become a mop and look like he has a helmet of hair on, he cuts it short again, and repeats that cycle. Glasses/contacts?: No, but they're needed. He has shit eyesight and no one ever forced him to get glasses so he never did. Don't ask him to read any signs that are far away. Dominant hand: Right Height: 5'9 / 175cm Weight: 154 lb / 70kg Build: Slim Exercise habits: Nonexistent, but he does a lot of walking Skin tone: Olive (Type IV) Tattoos: The initials of his siblings, A.S. in a simple font, on the bottom of his ribs on his right side. They all have matching ones. He continuously tells them the joke that they should get a fourth sibling with an S name, so he can get A.S.S. tattooed instead. Piercings: None Marks/scars: Several small scars around his legs and arms, from climbing around and getting into trouble as a middle child desperate for attention. A more notorious scar runs up behind his left elbow from a night in college when he got wasted with his friends and had an accident with a knife (don't ask). Clothing style: Black, a lot of black. The most colourful thing in his closet might be a dark grey jumper. Very minimalistic in the sense that he never wears patterns or colours or graphic tees, it's always just very dry and kind of bland. He probably could get into fashion if he wanted to, but he feels bad spending so much of his hard-earned money on the high-fashion stuff. Also he can frequently be spotted wearing those compression gloves/braces on his hands, for carpal tunnel syndrome Jewellery: A couple necklaces that have no emotional attachment besides "I thought they were cool so I bought them", but he's never without them, even when they mostly just hang inside his shirts. Dabbles in rings if he's feeling fancy. Allergies: None Diet: Consists of mostly snacks. He occasionally buys the healthy kind, like a couple granola bars or some fruit, but if he's going through a big project, he'll only snack. Anything easy to eat with one hand goes. He does, however, understand the value of nutrition and that he needs to fuel his body properly every once in a while; when that happens, he resorts to ordering food from some healthy restaurant nearby. It's basically a couple salads a month and then nothing but Doritos for days straight. Physical ailments: Carpal tunnel syndrome happens often enough that it's almost chronic, because he doesn't usually take breaks or stretch his wrists out like he's supposed to. Back pain from sitting all day (and bad posture) is also so present that he barely notices it anymore.

Psychology

MBTI type: INTJ Enneagram type: Type Five Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Temperament: Somewhere between Phlegmatic and Melancholic? Element: Water Emotional stability: Who is she! Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert Obsession(s): Outdoing his siblings, no matter how much he loves them Compulsion(s): Working to the point of forgetting to take care of himself Phobia(s): Acrophobia and atychiphobia Addiction(s): Cigarettes/Vaping Drug use: Sometimes wrongly and terribly pops an Adderall when pulling all-nighters. Has smoked weed before, but he doesn't love the slowness of when he gets high. Alcohol use: Not very often nowadays, but the occasional blackout still happens. He's known to become a completely different person when he drinks, much more loose and fun and happy, so he does it sparingly Prone to violence?: No Prone to crying?: No Believe in love at first sight?: Yes, but doesn't think he's the type to ever experience that, since it takes a while for him to get close to people, so he believes in it as an abstract concept

Mannerisms

Accent: RP English Speech quirks: A lot of pauses between words and sentences, since he often thinks a lot before he speaks. The occasional ums and uhs and some stuttering if his mind is working faster than he can speak, too. Hobbies: Photography, playing video games, reading novels (graphic or otherwise), finding passive-aggressive memes to send into the Gamal siblings groupchat Habits: Stealing wifi, smoking and vaping, ordering delivery of everything instead of getting it himself Nervous ticks: lip chewing, tapping fingers, bouncing one knee, scratching his neck/jaw or touching his nose Drives/motivations: It's all for the glory, babey Fears: Never achieving anything grand Sense of humour?: It goes as far as memes and roasting his loved ones, but not much further than that. He's usually not comfortable enough to crack jokes, but you might get a sarcastic comment or two if you're lucky. Deep down, he can be sharp and quick-witted, but it doesn't come out often, unless he's having drinks. Do they curse often?: Hecc yes, probably as a form of rebellion against his posh parents

Favourites

Animal: Tarsier Beverage: Strong black coffee with two spoons of sugar Book: Don Quixote, by Miguel de Cervantes Colour: Green Food: Zalabya Flower: Jasmine Gem: Peridot Mode of transportation: Walking, and if not, the metro Scent: Oranges Sport: Tennis Weather: Rainy enough that he doesn't feel anyone's judgement for staying inside all day Vacation destination: Japan

Attitudes

Greatest dream: Finally being famous for his work Greatest fear: Never achieving anything big enough to make him happy, and being forever miserable because of it Most at ease when: Left by himself or enjoying someone else's company that he's truly comfortable with, probably in silence, doing his own thing Least as ease when: Forced into environments where he has to put on fancy clothes and pretend to be enjoying himself when he's not. Alternatively: when he's going on hour 32 without any sleep and he's denied more coffee Worst possible thing that could happen: Achieving greatness but realising he needs something else in order to feel fulfilled and be happy Biggest achievement: His degree and hopefully the first working Time Machine Biggest regret: He doesn't like to say he regrets things, so there's nothing he'd call a huge regret. But if he had to say something, he'd probably say it was not telling that one high school crush that he liked them.

#yes i did choose a borderline pornographic photo that has nothing to do w my character #in hopes to thirst trap everyone #and what about it?????? #rami deserves this #( task 001 ) #( task )

[positivementalaxolotl]

A Little Lesson In Trickery: Adrien Agrest Isn’t Good At It.

It had been a long night. Ladybug and Chat Noir had just ended another fight and separated back to their homes.

Well, not quite.

Marinette went home, but Adrien? He was suppose to already be asleep so no one would be checking on him, and frankly he had a lot to think about. He technically did go home, but only for a quick refuel and prepare in case he needed to again. He knew he wasn't suppose to use his powers for selfish reasons but... This wasn't entirely selfish right? Keeping himself in a stable mindset would help him in battle, help save Paris and the people in it, so it would indirectly help, right?

Leaving again, he jumped from building to building feeling the air wisping by his face. It was a chilly night but he still needed the fresh breeze flying by. In a way, staying off the ground helped him beccome more grounded. Reminded him that he was more than his father saw in him, that he could do more than look pretty and smile.

He could be happy, even after the previous day. He and Kagami were so happy together, he thought it might've been fate, but no matter what he did he couldn't completely get over his first love, Ladybug. Adrien had made the mistake of telling Kagami the focus of his desires in life and broke her heart. Hearing that he loved someone else but was trying to forget and use her... It hurt so much more.

Luckily all it took was a few sentances between them and they still thought of each other as very close friends. He cared about Kagami and hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do, but some things are inevitable. All they needed was a little time and after that hopefully they'd be able to resume what they had. Comfortable companionship, nothing romantic.

Actually, speaking of his lady, she seemed off that night. Something was obviously on her mind, but she dismissed it as soon as she was asked what was wrong. After the battle he had tried again but she pretended like she was about to transform any second, when she clearly had several minutes left. Instead of pushing it, he decided to give her time. Whatever it was it was serious and made her distracted, he didn't want to remind her of whatever happened.

His long journey through the night had him on a very familiar street. He hadn't exactly been paying attention to where he was going, his cat senses would be able to lead him back home, anyways. Jumping from building to building hadn't stressed any of his stamina or made him any more tired, if anything he felt much more clear and rejuvinated. But his better mood was quickly washed away when a familiar girl on a familiar balcony on that familiar street was seen. She seemed upset, almost like she had just finished crying- maybe she still was. As a super hero of Paris, and his dear friend Marinette being a Parisian, he felt a duty to to at least offer an ear. Though it was more because he didn't want to see her hurt.

He jump to the building next to the balcony and leaped onto the railing, startling the girl sitting on her lawn chair, covering herself with a blanket and a cup of what he figured to be hot cocoa. "Marinette? I'm sorry to *jump* in like this. I promise I didn't mean to startle you."

The girl seemed panicked for a moment, looking around. She looked over to her planter box full of roses though and took a very visible sigh of relief. Was the box loose? No matter, he had other things to focus on right now. "No, it's fine. Though I am surprised to see you out here." She said, sniffling and wiping her eyes before continuing, now looking away out of embarrassment from being caught crying. Such a small world apparently. "What are you doing out here? Is there an akuma? If so you have better things to be doing than staying here."

The statement had a ring of sounding to it that he thought might be her wanting him to leave, it worried him but there wasn't anything obvious in her expression or words that convinced him she did. "I was just taking a walk, don't worry. Well, less of a walk and more of a leap around." He gave a soft smile, walking over to her as she seemed to relax more. Perhaps she didn't want him to leave. She certainly seemed welcoming enough. Not that he would stay if she didn't, but he wasn't sure if she did. "But... Is everything okay? I'm... I know I'm a super hero and all but that's more than saving Paris from monsters. It's saving it's civilians from being alone too." Obviously he couldn't help everyone who needed someone, but he wanted to whenever he could. Sitting next to the lawn chair, he looked up to her. "If you don't want to say anything or if you don't want me here-"

And then he was caught off by the girl in question. "No, I'm glad you're here. If anything, you came at the perfect time. I'm just having... A difficult time right now. So much drama, I'm sure you don't want to hear any of it. And I don't blame you, if I were in your shoes I don't know if I would be able to handle any more drama." She tried to joke, though it was so half hearted it went over Chats head that she was trying to even giggle to herself.

"Not want to hear any of it? Marinette, you attended my pitty party when Ladybug didn't show up to the rooftop date I set up for her. Even if I didn't want to be there for you, it's really the least I could do." If Chat squinted, he swore he would be able to see that Marinette had a flash of an expression of guilt plastered to her fae, before quickly hiding it. Though he was sure it was just from it being so dark. He was better able to see because of the Paris lights and his cat-like vision, but even that didn't make it perfect and clearly visible. "Spill all the beans you want, I won't force you but you seem like you want to get something off of your chest."

Marinette finally fully smiled, feeling accompanied and supported. She never really imagined Chat caring about her as more than a civilian he had to save, but he seemed to be a lot more serious about the job, and perhaps he really wanted to be her friend. "Bean? Like a cats toe beans?"

Laughing escaped both of out heros lips, both masked and unmasked. Disquised and unrecognizable. "Not what I meant but I'll take the credit."

It was nice, being able to be so light hearted in a horrible time in her life. At least not everything in her life was terrible at the moment- No. She needed to not think like that. She had plenty to be happy about...

Chats smile slowly faded as Marinette got lost in thought. He remained patient though, waiting for her to go on.

"A lot is going on in my life right now. Lila Rossi? We've saved her a few times from akumas but... She's going after me. She keeps threatening me and trying to get everyone to hate me- and today I think... I think it worked. None of my friends are talking to me and Lila just keeps snickering at me. Even Alya is taking her side. She tried to explain it to me but none of it was relevant because I knew she was lying. But I'm the only one so I look like the asshole..." She sight, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them, tears spilling again. Chat noticed everyone had isolated her that morning, but Lila had told him that something had happened and she wanted to be alone, so he believed her. He needed to talk to her tomorrow at school. "I guess I exaggerated a little bit... There's still one person who talks to me. But unfortunately it's my boyfriend..."

Chat tilted his head a bit, much like a cat would when it saw something interesting or confusing out the window, though in Chats case it would be the latter. He knew she was dating Luka, but why was that a problem? And *Chat* didn't know she was dating anyone. "Your boyfriend? I didn't know you were with someone. Why would that be an issue?"

Marinette sniffled, reaching over to her round table with a box of tissues, only then did Chat notice the wads of tissue that littered her balcony. "Because... I've kind of been using him. I'm in love with someone else but I realized they loved someone else and I wanted to move on. Though I guess I moved on in a terrible way and I don't want to hurt him. I want to stay his friend but what if he's mad at me for using him? That I never moved on from Ad- erm... The boy I'm in love with?"

The blonde in leather listened intently, memorizing every word. "I'm sure he wouldn't be mad- I mean, you're still trying to figure out what you want. As long as you talk to him I'm sure he'll be okay. Some time apart to think and make things clear will help too." He smiled up to her, moving from the cold floor to sit next to her on the chair. "If it helps, I recently went through something similar- yesterday in fact. Really, it's the reason I needed some fresh air. I was with a girl that I tried to make myself think I loved, but... No matter what I could only think of Ladybug and how unfairly I was treating this poor girl by using her as a crutch for my feelings. If you need time to move on properly then you can't take shortcuts- I know that now and hopefully you do too." He did know what he was talking about. He had experienced this first hand.

"Thank Chat." The darker haired girl sniffled out and layed back, looking up at his with puffy red eyes. They were a beautiful shade of blue. "You really did help me. How... How did things end out?"

Now sitting criss-cross and pressing his elbow to his knee, Chat rested his chin on his palm. "We're still friends. We're taking some time but we hopefully will be able to get our heads on straight enough to continue being friends." The reminder that they were friends made his smile a little wider, a tiny bit more genuine. "If I may ask, who are these people you're talking about? Maybe I know them and I can help."

Marinette figured that there was no way that in all of Paris he would know Luka. Adrien was kind of a celebrity so it would be hard to say that Chat hasn't at least heard of him. "Well... My boyfriends name is Luka. He really is sweet, he's just not the one. And the boy I'm in love with..." She took a moment, could this in any way reveal who she was to Chat? She suddenly remembered back a few months ago, Bunnix had taken her to another timeline where Chat Noir was Chat Blanc, how it was all because she somehow let Adrien know who she was and he somehow got the news to Chat who somehow used that to get her and him together- though she didn't know how. But there was no way that could happen here, right?

"The boy I love- it's silly... There's no chance."

A hand reached over tilting her head from the point where it looked down in shame that he had feelings. Her gaze was met with Chats and he already knew what he was going to say. "It's not silly. I'm in love with a girl that repeatedly tells me no. As much as I wish I could change my heart, I can't." He gave a reassuring, support smile before letting her chin go and sitting back.

Taking a deep breathe, the girl nodded. It was several moments, seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years... She didn't know how long, but it was a minute.

"Adrien Agrest- He um..."

The boys ears perked up and his face heated up. Wait, him? Did she mean like- someone he introduced her to? There were the people at the fencing class that he helped introduce her to, he brought her and a few other friends to some photoshoots and such with plenty of people... "W-What about him?"

"He's the... He's the guy I love. I know it won't happen, but I can't help it." He sighed, flinching to prepare for the hurt in her heart to settle in, though she's surprised when she truthfully feels better. Chat is quiet for a moment so she looks up, though the sight before her is a surprise. Chat is blushing- or is that the lighting? No, there weren't any pink lights nearby, maybe she's just tired- it was getting pretty late. "Chat are you oka-"

"Yup!" The questioned kitty swiftly and quite loudly confirms. "I'm just peachy! *Cats* just got my tongue is all!" He laughs just as volumously and as Marinette notices, forced.

"Do you not like Adrien?" She tilts her head, mirroring Chats previous action, a very cat like motion. "I know a lot of people think that because he's rich he's stuck up but I know him personally and he's actually-"

"No, no that's not it! I actually know him personally too!" Realizing his mistake, Chat quickly covers his mouth. Big green eyes looking much wider than before as he panicks. Will she figure me out?

"Oh... Then what is it? If I didn't know any better I'd think you were blushing over there-" It seemed a thought crossed Marinettes mind, but it was obvious she had to force it to the back burner.

"I erm... I don't know how to say it-" He had to respond or else she would figure him out- no more secret identity then no more Chat Noir Adrien, No more Chat Noir Adrien, no more freedom. "I have a crush on him too!"

He mentally facepalmed- why would he say that? Now when she figured him out she would think he was so self absorbed- though at least he wouldn't have to break her heart-

She paused, staring. "Oh." She made out after several minutes, then remained silent for several more. It was awkward for them both.

"Erm... You know, as I said I know him personally and him and Kagami broke up- it seems that these days a lot of people are trying to get over someone else." He tried so desperately to fix the situation.

"Are you saying he likes me back?" She seemed to get the slightest glimmer in her eyes of hope- and Chat knew that he had to squander it- fuck.

He hated to do it so reluctantly, he responds. "No, unfortunately he doesn't. He likes... Someone else." He looked away and bit his lip, seeming so upset that he had to hurt her. "Though he talks about you a lot! He does like you just... Just as a friend. A very good one, one of his best friends! He just wishes you could talk to him and be more open... Maybe if you tell him how you feel you'll be able to feel more comfortable around him. He's not the kind of guy to shame you for it or anything." Chat could only offer more and more words and a smile that he could only hope helped her feel better.

It does. Only a little bit but it does. She sunk back down and looked up to the sky. "So many girls are after him. Chloe, Lila, hundreds of fan girls. I knew I didn't have a chance. Though... Being friends is better than nothing. Perhaps he'll fall for me in time, perhaps not, but with so many options for him I can't blame him for not picking the weirdo girl who always makes strange noises around him."

He frowns. He really is letting her down, maybe at school he should tell her- no. He wasn't doing that again. But then the girl spoke up again. "If I tell him how I feel about him, you have to too. I'm not taking your advice unless you're confident enough to yourself."

She had a point- but how was he suppose to do that? Obviously he couldn't do it at the same time as her because he can't be two people. But maybe when she came over to him the next day he could mention he had to turn Chat down? Yeah yeah, that makes sense.

The girl yawned and stretched. She was exhausted and needed some sleep. "Hey Chat, I need sleep for tomorrow school- I mean, school tomorrow."

Without a second thought, the boy scooped the lady up bridal style, already walking her to the hatch- she's obviously surprised since she thought that she would be walking herself to bed- but she didn't have the energy to complain. So she nuzzled his shoulder as a thank you and quickly fell asleep in his arms. He was able to get her to bed without a hitch and decided that was enough torturing people for one night, so he headed home- Plagg happily ate the leftover cheese he got from the start of the night.

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The next day started and Marinette was full of energy. She trusted Chat and knew he wouldn't lead her astray or lie to her, so she felt confident that Adrien wouldn't make a laughing stalk of her.

She put in her lucky hair ribbons and a nice denim jacket- heck, if she's doing herself up all special she might as well wear that skirt she's been dying to try out on herself. ANd she has to say she erally likes it with her cute t-shirt and cardigan. She looked soft and pastel but modern as well. She actually felt... Cute!

Heading to school with a nice breakfast in her stomach, she marching with her head held high and a bright smile, texting Alya that she was going to tell Adrien.

Of coarse Alya also thought that Adrien was still with Kagami, so she told her not to- it would make her seem like she was trying to steal him away from her, but she made sure Alya knew that she had no intent on actually going out with him. She just wanted things off of her chest. Alyas response did surprise her but after the previous days events, she understood it. Alya was hesitant to be the fault of Marinettes heart break and wasn't as sure about Marinettes actions or intentions. Thanks Lila.

Maybe this could even clear her name? Instead of stealing Adrien away, she would be helping him find happiness in someone else! And perhaps that someone was Chat.

As she walked through those doors, the girl looked around until a familiar head of blonde hair came to view. She smiled to herself and walked over to him, gently tapping his shoulder. He seemed to be having a conversation with Nino who looked- apologetic. He tipped his hat Marinettes way then noticed how she looked. "Oh uh- MariDude. I'm sorry about yesterday I just- erm... You know, Lila is really persuasive. I didn't mean to make you think I turned on you or anything, I was just confused and didn't know who to trust. I'm so sorry that I like, ever doubted you."

Adrien smiled to his friend, proud that he stepped up to his mistake. "Yeah, I noticed you were down but Lila insisted that you just had something going on. I didn't know you were going through *anything* let alone another one of Lila's hissy fits. I... I should have at least tried to talk to you and hear it straight from you."

Marinette was surprised and gave a soft smile. At least Someone besides Luka was there for her from the beginning. She couldn't help but reach over and hug the two tightly. It was a warm and forgiving embrace- after all, everyone makes mistakes and Lila tricked everyone, so the fact that Nino was going against what everyone else thought was enough for her to believe him. "It's alright you two. I'm just so happy you don't hate me-"

This seemed to surprise them both, pulling away. Nino and Adrien held onto each shoulder, speaking at the same time as if they had rehearsed this- but they were so genuinely surprised there was no chance they did. "We could never hate you, Marinette!" One of the two boys adding 'Dude' to the end.

She sniffled, wiping her eyes. Adrien hated seeing her hurt, but this time the tears were accompanied with a smile that he himself had worn as well. "Thank you so much, especially you Adrien since it seemed like you talked to him... I guess I'm really lucky, huh?" It was a small feat, but one that made a big difference in her mood. Both boys were happy to see her so happy.

"Anyways, I'm going to go tell Alya what Adrien told me. It's almost time for class so I'll meet you two in class." And with that, Nino walked off to find where Alya was. Marinette and Adrien alone together now.

They were quiet for a moment. Was Mari really about to do this? How could she? How couldn't she? She promised Chat that she would- "So... How is everything?" She decided to start. Maybe she could just bring it up casually?

The boy laughed a little- now very aware of what she was doing. How did he not see it before? It was so obvious that she liked him, though he was locked in a big house with home school so he didn't have a lot of people skills. "I'm doing fine, Marinette. A lot has happened these last few days. Photoshoots, dating, breaking up and then Lila..."

So he hadn't told him yet? Or maybe Adrien just didn't want to talk about it. Maybe she forced Chat to talk to him too soon after he broke up with Kagami- how hurt was he? "I'm so sorry to hear about that! You and Kagami sounded so happy together. If you want to talk about it you can." Now she knew that she was procrastinating what she had to do, but she couldn't help it.

The boy nodded though and decided to take the offer. Talking about the same thing twice to the same person as two differen't people? Who would have thought that would happen to him. "We were very happy together, but I can't say that I was with her for good reasons. It was a distraction from the person that I'm in love with. But I know deep down that it would never happen... I just need to learn to get over it."

"Why wouldn't it ever happen?" She asked, curious. No, Chat had confirmed that it wasn't her- but she had to support him in whoever it was! If he was in love with Chloe or someone else she had to be there for him! "Anyone would be crazy to turn you down. You're the biggest sweetheart I've ever met!"

Her grin was immeasurable. She was so truthfully joyful and it brought a grin of his own onto the playing field. "Well the person I love isn't exactly on my level... They're so much more popular than me. They'd never have the same feelings for me that I have for them. They've been there for me ever since I met them but they like someone else." It was a sad truth- to Adrien at least.

But Marinette wouldn't let him think that way. Opening her mouth to speak she-

RING

The school bell rang and Adrien looked around, as if confirming that he wasn't imagining it. "Sorry- maybe we can continue this conversation at lunch?" He started. Marinette nodded and the blonde started up to class. Marinette still needed to head to her locker so she did so and packed up her things. While away, she got a text from Alya, apologizing for her attitude the day before and that morning. Today couldn't get much better, could it? She finished getting her text bbooks together and headed to class where her normal arrangement of seats were a little mixed. Nino and Alya were sitting next to each other and Adrien was by himself. Likely what happened? Alya told Nino that Marinette was going to tell Adrien her feelings for him. Chloe was in the room, getting excited and jumped at the opportunity to sit next to her "Adrikins."

She was a little disappointed- until Adrien had explained to her that the seat was taken. He had saved her a seat- in fact as soon as he aske Chloe to get out of the seat, he looked and waved over Marinette, to which Chloe scoffed.

"You're really going to sit with that lying idiot? Did you hear what she did yesterday? And she even tried to blame Lila, saying she was a liar! Yet you're going to choose that pompous brat over me? Ridiculous!"

Adrien shook his head. "Chloe, did you even think about if Marinette was right? You only jumped to the same comclusion as everyone else *because* of everyone else. You like to follow trends. You hardly even *know* Lila so why would you even believe her?" He did little to even look at Chloe after that, trying to reassure Marinette that it was alright. "It's okay, Marinette. I'm still here for you."

Those words cause a whole change in her demeanor. She say next to the boy of her dreams, slouched and completely relaxed- even Alya was surprised to see her so lax. "Thanks Adrien, I can always count on you."

Previously mentioned blonde stormed off, declaring war against Marinette Dupain-Cheng and sitting next to Sabrina.

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It was now the end of the day. Marinette and Adrien had such a productive day together and had so much fun with each other. She decided the end of the day would be the best time to tell him, so they could go home and think about what was spoken about and then tomorrow they could talk to each other about it and finally conclude to being best friends! That was all she wanted at this point in time. So now they were standing out in front of the building while Adrien waited for the Gorilla.

"Hey Adrien? Can I tell you something?"

The boy looked expectedly to the other, as if he knew what she was going to say. "Of coarse Marinette. You can talk to me about anything."

The girl nodded, shifting her weight from the front of her toes to the backs of her heels. "So long story short, Chat Noir gave me a surprise visit last night." The looked surprised, but it seemed a little off.

"Chat Noir? What was going on?"

She took a deep breath. She had to do this. "He told me that you and him know each other personally and that you're in love with someone else. I'm guessing he hasn't spoken to you yet?"

"Nope." The boy froze, stiff, blushing bright red at the reminder of what Chat had told Marinette. He was such an idiot- why did he have to say he had a crush on himself? Was he really that dumb? He knew he was smarter than that.

Bluebell eyes shifted around, half shut while observing the blonde in front of her. Adrien was acting strange. At the mention of his crush and Chat Noir, he was already a mess. Why would he be so distraut about Chat Noir? "Alright... Well, he's suppose to see- are you alright? Do you have a fever or anything?"

The boy only could glance away, coughing into his hand with big nervous energy. "No no, I'm fine I'm fine." He promised.

"Okay, if you say so..." She started, still worried. "Well he told me he would talk to you about something if I spoke to you about something." She took a deep breath.

Adrien wanted to just support her. He forced himself into a better composure before looking back to her. "Of coarse! You say whatever you want. I won't judge you."

The girl came back with a new found confidence. She had to do this for Chat. She couldn't let him down! Not after he helped her so much! "I wanted to tell you that- that... um... H-He's curious about the girl you like! He wants to hear all about her!" Shoot! Now not only was she avoiding the underlying issue but she was risking Chats feelings! He doesn't want to hear about her, he wants to tell him his feelings! Shoot shoot shoot-"

Now Adrien was panicking- he couldn't tell her he liked Ladybug! It was embarrassing enough to tell his now ex about it, but his friend that had finally given the chance to get close to and had feelings for him! He bit his lip and glanced away again-

Though to Marinette, Adrien had freaked out twice now when Chat Noir was mentioned. AFter thinking about it for a minute, it seemed to snap the puzzle piece into her brain. She knew what was going on!

"Adrien, did you tell Chat Noir you had a crush on a girl because you really had a crush on him?" She seemed genuinely curious and needed to know.

Poor poor Adrien getting mixed up in this whole situation. He didn't know what to say so he stuttered, trying to explain himself without revealing that he actually loved Ladybug or that he was Chat Noir! Imagine the betrayal she would feel if she ever found out that he pretended not to know her and still consoled her as someone else! Fuck fuck fuck-

"Adrien, you don't have to pretend with me. I'll support you, no matter who you love! That's what friends are for, right?" She seemed so happy to hear that Adrien knew who he loved. Who he wanted to be with. Even if Adrien was in love with another boy, she didn't care. He could be happy since she now knew they both loved each other!

Adrien just became silent. He couldn't get himself out of this one without either embarrassing himself or revealing his identity which was a big old no no. "Y-You caught me red handed..."

She laughed happily and hugged him tightly. "When Chat comes by, I think you should tell him how you feel! It'll really clear things up for you!"

He found it ironic that Marinette was saying this, yet she hadn't done so herself. "Alright I... Guess I will. But only if you tell your crush that you like him!"

Marinettes brows furrowed in confusion very suddenly. "I never mentioned even having a crush- how did you know?"

Now he was *really* panicking. He needed to get out of here. He was screwing everything up! He was about to get found out! But by some miracle the girl didn't seem to figure out. Instead she took her own notes of his body and came to her own conclusion. "Wait a second, did Chat already see you? He did didn't he? And then he told you I liked you! You two are already together huh? I oughtta grab that kitty by the tail and- and-" But deep inside, she knew she wouldn't do anything to Chat Noir He was so kind and sweet, and she already hurt him enough by liking someone not at all interested in her. Leaning forward and placing her forehead on the others chest, she could only sigh, embarrassed as all hell. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Green eyes shut and he gave the wildly blushing damsel in distress an embrace. Supportive and caring... "It's alright. I still want to be your friend. I'm sure we just need some time. Or we could go into this friendship thing guns ablaze." He joked.

"Yeah. That sounds nice."

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Tell me what you thought! I’m not new to writing fanfiction but I think this is the first fanfic I’ve written on here... Anyways, I had this idea stuck in my head ever since a post by @buggachat (Particularly >>>THIS<<< post) This is mostly an original idea, since I’d been thinking about it before. Buggachat is just so inspiring with some of their things though so some of that got shown here! (Erm I hope it’s okay with them- I uh... Didn’t exactly ask if they wanted a plug or anything but they deserve more love!)

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #fanfiction #accidental gay shit because Adrien doesn't know how to get out of sticky situations

[ghouls-dream]

HC: So i decided to do that. For your enterteinment. i presENT YOU: ghost astrology. Papa Nihil - CAPRICORN : Since he is described as a powerful, firm leader with stamina and sexual energy (when younger). He seems to me like the old king in fairytales that refuses to give out his throne, no matter the fact that he's no longer suitable for it. Im not saying he's a bad person or anything, im just pointing out stuff i notice. And thats fine! Control and strictness is what keeps a good order and drives business ahead!

Papa Emeritus I - VIRGO: Now as the oldest one of the Emeritus brothers I strongly do believe he has the most of his father's influence, which doesnt necesserily make him bad or evil at all. In fact he tries his best to transform all the learnt lessons in something productive and useful for the new Papas! Basically helping them grow, teaching and showing them their ways in order for the bloodline to prospere. I imagine his number one mission would have been to fulfill his duty towards the Clergy and hiis father, but as well try to be a good exmaple for II and III.

Papa Emeritus II - ARIES:  He is the middle child. Not too old, not too young but perfect to be between the hammer and the envil. I imagine him as a quick learner, deffintely has a lot from his father's leadership characte (big dick energy i mean), he's always trying to be better and stronger, trying to prove himself, to find his place in the family. Emeeritus II would deffinitely be the problematic child in my eyes, but also very passionate about his little brother - he'd protect him at all cost, which would probably cause HIM a lot of arguments with his father (punishments for instance), but also be extremely respectful towards the Emeritus bloodline.

Papa Emeritus III- SCORPIO: As being the youngest of his brothers, I suppose that III would be full of energy! I think he'll have a lot from his father's sexul energy and stamina, but he'd lack the leadership and strictness, when it comes to ruling. He'd be more of a friend with every single person rather than being their "Boss" (lol). Of course if needed be, III would probably make a good leader and a Papa - he'd do his best to keep everything under control, maybe he'd look for help or seek advice from his older brother so Papa Nihil doesnt think he is not fit for the place. But in general i think he has a soft heart, full of lust and desire. Papa III might be a little manipulative, sassy, flirty and secretive at times but oh well its part of his charm!

Cardinal Copia- LIBRA: Deffinitely a sass machine! He was the character that i was like 100% sure about! Cardi is a soft boi, he aint ashamed of it and he loves showing it to the people around him. His undying love for his rats and his geniuane good character are one of his best traits! Cardi tries his best to prove himself worthy in front of Papa and Imperator, no matter how sceptic the patriarch is. I imagine he'd be the sensitive type that would be in good humor all day, being all goofy and friendly with every single person, while doing his best to fullfil everyone's expectations.. And in the end of the day he'd just lay in his bed, stare at the ceiling and become way too self-critical about everything he had done during the day, which would lead to his hidden anxiety and maybe depression.

GHOULS. ERA 4. Aether- TAURUS: Beefy boi is definitely a Taurus. There is no other sign that fits him more than this one! He's humble, a good friend, really talkative, extremely friendly not only with the other band members, but the audiance as well! Aether gives out the 'big teddy bear' vibe and he's not afraid to show it. He loves a good company, I suppose he'd be one of the good chefs around the ghouls and he'd be more than glad to share this talent of his with the others! I imagine Aether as the jolly sweet friend who's always there to help and is really passionate and protective of the people he loves. Also - really sensitive, even tho he might not show it.

Dewdrop - ARIES: Hyperenergetic, attention loving slut. He's the human form of the word 'firecracker'. Dew is like a magnet for troubles, no wonder why he broke his horn! I suppose he'd have a lot of bruises on his body, maybe even tattooes! He is the sporty type - likes running, hopping, skipping around and most of all - terorizing evey single soul around him. What's more - he is 24/7 aroused and he aint afraid to show it. He's well aware of the fact he intimidates people with his sexually agressive aura and he enjoys every bit of it! Also stomping on stage and the little "guitar battles" he has with Aether sometimes is what keeps his competative spirit alive and in shape!

Rain- CANCER Softboi allert!!! Absolutely no doubt that Rain is a Cancer. He is one of the "quiet" ghouls on stage. He's not a fan of the attention like Dew for instance, he just loves to enjoy what he's doing! The vibe he sends out to the people is also really soft - Rain wants every single person to feel the melody of his bass in their hearts! For him, being a part of the band is like being a part of "God's work" to spread the gorgeous art of music! Rain loves to be surrounded by the people he loves and most deffinitely has anxiety around new people and sometimes on stage. He feels at peace while playing the bass and is also really caring and loving, always trying to make others comfortable around him!

Swiss - LEO: Swiss boi is definitely a Leo. He radiates such a strong sassy, flirty vibe i cant even. He loves dancing (obvs), being in the center of attention but not as much as Dew. While the little jumpy-boi is demanding the crowd's adoration, Swiss just gets it not the agressive way. He just naturally gets all eyes on him with his swift moves, sexy ass body, grea talent and backing voice. He deffinitely is the star "in disguise". I imagine him off stage to be as sassy as on it, but way more flirty when it comes to giving autographs or even talking with someone. He just flirts naturally, he doesnt even need to try!

Mountain - AQUARIUS: IDK why i get this vibe from his. He's a little(lol) dork. I feel like Mountain's the "dad's joke on regular basis" type of friend, who always knows how to cheer up a situation. He's not a fan of being in the sportlight, he enjoys his place. I think he doesnt like arguments or confronting anyone anyhow, much like Rain, but if he has to go out there and defend his opinion or someone else's he'd be more than glad to do so. The civilized way ofc. As much as he loves drumming and all the loud noise around him, i have a feeling that Mountain would love to be left alone in peace after a show, have a walk or just simply take a shower and read some conspiracy theories or his favorite series.

Cummulus PISCES: Girly girly girl VIBES!!! I have a feeling that the short, sweet little ghoulette would be A) a shopaholic and B) your best friend in crime! She's the one serving looks, willing to gosip all the time and most probably try to turn Rain into her own live verison of the Ken-doll. In fact i think they're both really close since they have share a fair amount of common interests like music, small animals, taking care of others etc. I suppose they'd often go for duets or something. Also I think she's the "mother-friend" who apart from being super crazy and ready to do a lot of stuff (brunch, nights out, girly nights with Cirrus and others), Cummulus would be very protective around the people she loves! Also she has a great connection with the fans - they love her and she adores them!

Cirrus - GEMINI: Cirrus is definitely the one that's more "fiery" from the ghoulettes. Her stage presence is showing really well and she loves to communicate with each and every ghoul. In fact if she had the chance, she would get someone from the audiance on stage and jam with them! WHo knows maybe they'd become friends after the ritual? She is one of the ghouls that have the strongest need to be around others. I imagine her being really close to all of the ghouls  (mostly Cummulus ofc) and Cardi, almost as if she's the best friend of the group. Cirrus is definitely the ghoul that spends most of her time on the internet, chatting with fans maybe or simply spending time in tumblr or twitter, sharing her day and creating memes. Also big fan of posting funny photos of the ghouls and Cardi (Dew being super mad about it, tho)!

So uuuh yeah, that really turned out to be longer than i expected, but uuh I hope you like it guys! i did my best and i'll be super glad to hear what you think or even share your opinion on the matter! ILYSM

#the nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls #ghouls #aether #swiss #mountain #dewdrop #rain #cardinal copia #papa emeritus #papa emeritus nihil #papa emeritus iii #papa emiritus ii #papa nihil #nameless ghouls hc #the band ghost #ghost #ghost hc #hc #signs