#glow up checklist men | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queen-of-deans-booty · 6 months

Text

A Film of Deception

Pairing: No Pairing

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: angst, getting revenge for a loved one's death, being manipulated, torture

Request by anon: Hello can i request a imagine where the reader is a hybrid (half demon half witch) daughter of whatever demon (azazel, Asmodeus, Lilith, etc) who coming for vengeance after the Winchester and Castiel kill her parent and in the end they convinced her to be good? Some villain and powerful reader

Summary: The ones responsible for your father's death are Sam, Dean, and Castiel. They're the ones who are going to pay for what they've done. They killed your father... right?

Square Filled: angel blade (2020) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

Angel blade? Check. Hex bags? Check. An array of knives? Check. A leather jacket that’s also bulletproof? Check. High-heeled boots that can stab a man? Check. Anti-angel powder you created? Check. You grab two of your knives and holster them onto your thighs as well as slide the angel blade into your right boot. You really don’t need these weapons considering you’re half-demon, half-witch but you like to be prepared anyways.

You’re on the path of revenge and won’t stop until all three of your targets are dead. Pictures of them hang on your wall as a reminder that your father died for nothing, and they are going to pay for it with their lives.

Sam Winchester. Dean Winchester. Castiel. Three dead men walking.

“I promise, Dad, I won’t fail you now,” you say to the sky.

Your dad isn’t in Heaven or Hell but in the Empty. He’s sleeping and won’t be able to hear you but on the off chance that he is, you want him to know you’re going to finish what was taken from him. Your dad is Asmodeus who was one of the most powerful Princes of Hell. He was doing great things for the world but couldn’t finish because he was done dirty by Sam, Dean, and Castiel. They’d always fight him every step of the way but he kept you out of family drama like that. He was focused on training you to rule next to him, to take over what he was doing. He did nothing but good things for the world. Yes, he was a demon, but he oversaw all those evil things and overcame them.

So, when you heard of his death and the people behind it, you started running on this revenge path to kill those responsible for your father’s death. There’s only one place in the world where these three would reside, and it’s in the most secure place in the world. A few higher-power Gods have gotten through the Bunkers warding, but you’re confident enough that you can bypass it as well.

After finishing your checklist, you stuff a picture of your dad into your breast pocket and head out. With your demonic and witch powers, you’re able to travel to the Bunker with just a thought. You’ve never been here before, but all you had to do was think of the last place your dad was in and go from there. This place is disgusting and filthy and red with the blood of their victims, ones that they can never wash away.

You’re going to burn it to the ground with their dead bodies still inside it.

The Bunker has advanced warding all around it to keep monsters out. They were very efficient in the 50s, but you’re not going to let that stop you. Asmodeus had taught you how to bypass shit like this and put you through many tests to make sure you were capable of doing so. You run your hand in the sky from left to right, allowing the warding to appear so you can physically see them. They glow dull blue and glitch in and out of existence but it’s enough for you to see which symbols you need to get rid of.

You take out a hex bag and open it up to reveal the contents. If you just alter some of the ingredients, you can make a magical spell that will erase the warding permanently. You use your magic to transform some of the ingredients into others, and you throw it at the symbol you want. The entire building shakes upon the removal of the warding symbol.

Whoever is inside will know you’re here so you have to work fast.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel are inside the library doing some research when they feel the building shake.

“What the hell is that?” Dean asks. Ten minutes later, the building shakes again. “Okay, that’s coming from here. Cas, can you see what it is?”

“Yes.”

Castiel stares at the ground as he projects his power to the outside of the Bunker to see what is going on. If he can’t find anything, he’d search the entire Bunker for the source. Castiel sees a young woman fiddling with a hex bag before throwing it at another warding. He loses concentration when the building shakes again.

“There’s someone trying to get in,” Castiel says. “She’s burning off the warding to bypass it, which means she’s not human. We need to prepare for an attack.”

Castiel and the brothers get ready for the attack just as you burn off the last warding. You leave your hex bags outside since you won’t need them anymore. You blast the front metal door clean off the hinges and walk inside the Bunker. It’s completely empty from what you can tell but you’re not going to let looks be deceiving. You walk down the metal stairs and peer into the library from the war room.

You hear it before you see it. The whiz of something flying right at you. You quickly move only to see an angel blade get stuck into the wall behind you. You slowly turn to the person who threw it with deadly black eyes, and Sam stands there with wide eyes. He really thought that was going to work. You use your demonic powers on Sam and throw him across the entire library into the telescope in the back. Dean steps out from behind a bookshelf but you’re way ahead of him.

You teleport to right behind him and put both hands on either side of his head. He’s forced to his knees as you use your powers to burn his brain. His yells of pain are what cause Sam to push back his pain to help his brother.

“Dean!” Sam yells and starts to run at you.

You let go of Dean only to blast Sam into one of the concrete pillars. You keep him suspended in the air and turn to Dean who is now standing up. You don’t give him time to attack you and pin him to another pillar effortlessly. You slowly make a fist with your right hand and both brothers’ chests close up as if there is something weighing heavily on them.

“There’s a third one. Where is Castiel?” you ask.

Before they have a chance to answer, you’re tackled to the ground by the angel. His eyes glow bright blue with the more grace he’s using to subdue you. You smirk up at him completely unaffected by his efforts to stop you. Your eyes switch from their normal color to pitch black so you can let him know he’s not the one in charge.

“You’re no match for me,” you growl.

You reach into your pants pocket and grab a fistful of the powder you created to subdue angels. You shove the powder into his eyes and watch as it starts to burn him from the inside. Castiel cries out in pain and falls back, and you get up without a scratch on you. You lift the angel into the air and blast him into the war room, over the war table, and into the metal staircase. He hits it so hard that he actually bends the metal out of shape.

You turn back to the brothers who are still suspended in the air and grab a knife from one of your thigh holsters. You run the blade over Sam’s chest and press hard enough to draw blood. He tries not to let it show how much you’re hurting him even though you know it’s pretty painful. You move to Dean and do the same thing so they both have matching wounds.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to get you three completely at my mercy.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Dean gasps.

“You don’t know me but you know my father. Does Asmodeus ring a bell to any of you?” you ask angrily. Sam and Dean have a look of recognition across their faces. “You three will pay for his death. I’ll make it rain blood.”

You slash Sam and Dean again, this time on their legs.

“Asmodeus was the bad guy,” Castiel says from behind you.

His eyes are red from the powder but he’s fighting through the pain to try and appeal to your humanity. You turn to Castiel with red-hot angry eyes.

“He was my father!” you yell. “He loved me and you killed him!”

You take the angel blade from your boot and throw it at Castiel as hard as you can. The angel blade impales Castiel’s shoulder and throws him into the wall so that the blade is stuck in the wall as well. He shouts in pain but he isn’t going anywhere. You turn to the older Winchester and grab his throat tightly with black eyes, and you unsheath one of your knives.

“Any last words?”

“We didn’t kill him,” Dean struggles to get out.

“Yes, you did! I saw you three leave the scene of the crime. He died here! I went to find him only to see but ash where he stood.”

“It wasn’t us,” Dean gasps when your hand gets tighter. “It was Gabriel, the archangel.”

False memories filter through your brain making you confused.

“Do not lie to me!”

You cut his brother as repentant for Dean’s lies.

“We’re not lying. Asmodeus kidnapped Gabriel and tortured him for his grace. He was chugging the stuff to get more powerful.”

You let go of Dean’s neck and take a step back from him.

“No, you’re lying to me. My dad was loving and caring.”

“He was a psycho maniac who only cared about power,” Sam bites out. “He was manipulating you into thinking he loved you.”

The memories you have of your dad being loyal and loving are replaced with memories of the truth. Your father trained you and helped you hone your powers to make you more powerful only to steal a bit of power each and every day. No, he was a loving father. Then why are you having these memories replaced? Has he been manipulating you even after he died? Your magic is released on Sam and Dean so they fall to the ground in heaps of coughs and groans. You cry out in pain and clutch your head tightly.

“Stop putting these memories in my head!”

“We’re not the ones doing it. Your dad was evil but you don’t have to be,” Sam says gently. “You can choose a different path than he did.”

You’re even more confused now. You don’t immediately want to kill them because you’re confused as to who your father really was. In order to determine that, you need to go back and look into his life through the victims he had and the people he associated with.

“What have I done?” you whisper fearfully.

Castiel grabs the handle of the angel blade and yanks it out of the wall with his incredible strength.

“You were manipulated. You didn’t know what you were doing,” Sam says.

“I’m so sorry,” you cry and back away from them.

You quickly leave the Bunker to rethink your entire life’s purpose. Everything you thought you knew is a complete lie. You have no idea who you are anymore.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

31 notes · View notes

girlvulation · 19 days

Text

I lied. I forgot I have two papers I need to write and final after spring break. This might be the only long post for awhile. If there are any mistakes let me know. I might come back and edit it once I sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is hard to tell how long you have been tied up like this. The feeling of soft rope tightly caressing your body. Intricate knots wrapped around each curve, keeping your legs apart and hands bound together as if you were praying. You were on the cusp of doing so. The soft sound of a vibrator bound to your clit by the shibari. Not knowing the last time you had squirted but knowing if one more, you might not make it into the next day. Your clit was swollen and red from the abuse that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. Knees bucking against the lush carpet, trying to find a way to loosen the vibrator stuck against you. Not sure if he was still in the room. Just watching your pathetic body release nothing but cum and whimpers. It was hard to see with the scarf covering your eyes. Its opaque material makes everything seem darker than it already is. It didn’t help you also worse glasses and were currently without them.

Nothing could have prepared you for the situation you were in right now. It had been three years since you last had a romantic partner or even had sex. Thinking it was time to try again but not wanting any serious romantic feelings involved, you opted for a partner at a kink club. The initiation was a long process, with plenty of interviews and a detailed checklist going over every kink from the basics to the most obscure. Even confirming your health through an extended panel of sexually related diseases to make sure you were safe enough to enter. After all that, plus a healthy fee, you could finally enter. It wasn’t quite like you expected when you first walked in. Instead of the usual fantasy of ropes, toys everywhere, and people naked or barely dressed, you were met with a luxurious-looking cigar lounge. The color palette envelops you in warmth and sophistication, with deep forest green walls accented by plush brown leather seating. It was bathed in a soft, inviting light that danced off the cream-colored marble floors and ornate gold fixtures, adding a touch of old-world charm. Each seating area is carefully curated for comfort and style, featuring plush leather armchairs and sofas arranged around polished mahogany tables. In the center of the lounge, a grand fireplace casts a warm glow, inviting guests to relax and unwind in its flickering light. A well-appointed bar offers an extensive collection of top-shelf spirits and wines. Soft jazz music fills the air, creating a soothing backdrop for conversation and contemplation.

Amid the detailed environment, people were dressed in black tie attire. Each with a band around their arm as they conversed with the people around them. You knew the place was on a high scale compared to other dungeons in your area, but not to this extent. Even though you tried your best to match the dress code, you felt as though you were underdressed, not having the confidence the other women did. Straightening up and placing your red and yellow band onto your arm, you walked over to the bar to calm your nerves. That is where you met him. Tall, beautiful hazel eyes, broad shoulders, and a smile oozing with charisma were your one weakness when it came to men. You shared a drink with the man, making an easy conversation. Every now and then, you would glance at your surroundings, watching as people entered different rooms with others. You knew that’s where the real fun began, and you were hoping you would be entering one of those rooms with the man in front of you.

Cut to now, you kneeling naked on the floor as the third orgasm is ripped from your body. Did he really leave you in the room all by yourself? Becoming fearful of the situation, you were about to safe word before the scarf was removed. In front of you was the same man staring down at you with a mix of warmth and lust in his eyes. He had been here the whole time after tying you up. Watching you slowly lose yourself in the pleasure. A soft whimper left your mouth, the need to kiss him growing stronger with each passing second, but there was nothing that could be done. All you could do was watch as he removed the vibrator from your body, relief washing over.

“You did so well for me, darling. Taking those orgasms like that. Just watching you lose yourself in pleasure, the drool dripping down the corners of your mouth as another orgasm took your body and overstimulated you. You have no idea how hard I got just watching. Do you wanna see it? Wanna see my thick cock all hard for you? Needing to be burning inside you? I promise we’ll get there soon”. The words he spoke washed over your body. The thick Texan accent made him even more irresistible. It didn’t matter how bad you needed him. In your mouth. You pussy, Your ass. Anywhere that he could fit. Slowly undoing some of the rope so that your body could be manipulated better, the man hummed as he admired his work. A few quips about how beautiful you were and how he couldn’t wait to fuck you were thrown in there from time to time. As the ropes from your legs were loosened and removed, he made quick work burying two of his fingers inside your cunt. A gasp left your body before you began moaning like the whore you were.

“My pussy is open and hot and ready to clench around your cock. Please fuck me..” it was all you could say once his fingers curled inside you, but you knew it didn’t matter. He was going to have his way with you how he pleased. With a tsk and a headshake, he removed his fingers and put them in your mouth for you to taste. “My sweetheart is so need right now. With that type of begging, I have no choice, but you fuck your throat. That pretty pussy won’t get a taste of me until the very end. Okay, sweetheart?”

With glazed-over eyes and a nod, he removed his fingers from your mouth and stood up. He was already shirtless but began working at the black dress pants. Palming himself as he did so. Pulling himself out and giving his cock a few pumps, he thrust into your mouth roughly. With no time to adjust, you were reduced to just a throat to fuck. Even then, the pleasure from just the action alone made your pussy throb. The wet sounds of him fucking your throat and his moans filled the room. With spit gathering in your mouth, you swallowed around him, your mouth becoming a vacuum that made his cock twitch as you moaned and whimpered around it. “Damn baby, if I knew your mouth was this good, I would have fucked it from the beginning. What say we give this pussy a try, huh?”

With that, his cock was removed from your mouth, and you were carried to the large bed in the middle of the room. Positioning you on the edge as he lined his cock up to your pussy from behind. It already twitched with anticipation; he made quick work and thrust inside you, beginning a fast and harsh pace. Finally getting what you truly desired, you broke and rambled what came into your quickly deteriorating sanity.

“My pussy needs you. It belongs to you. You own this tight hole. Yes! Yes! Unnh! Unnh! You’re so good! Unnh! You’re so good!”

The only thing that could heard in the room was your voice and his thrust. Watching you lose it on his cock, a soft chuckle left him as he stopped his thrust and began grinding into your pussy. The feeling made your eyes roll back as he brushed against your cervix.

“God, look at you. Losing it on my cock. Do I make you feel that good, baby? Mmm…fuck, this pussy is so good. You feel so deliciously tight around me, sweetheart. You want my cum, baby? Want me to breed the greedy pussy of yours? Take this cum, baby. Take it all. Feel me pour all my seed into you.”

“Unnh! You fill me so full! Unnh! Unnh! Fuck my pussy! Unnh! Fuck my pussy! Unnh! Fuck me! Unnh! Fuck me! Unnh! Fuck me! Unnh! I love your cock! Unnh! You own me! Unnh! I’m your slut! Unnh!”

His thrust became more erratic and rougher as the near end. Feeling him breed your insides brought out another orgasm. You had forgotten how many times you did tonight while your pussy milked his cock dry.

#free use cnc #breeding toy #free use doll #free use slvt #free use toy #bd/sm brat #bd/sm daddy #bd/sm kink #breeding k1nk #free use kink #dumb slvt #c0cksleeve #c0ckslut #c0ckwh0re #c0ckdrunk #n33dydoll #bd/sm community #stories #tumblr writing community

13 notes · View notes

waitingforwinterwinds · 1 year

Text

A Clash of Kings - 69 Bran VII (pages 862-873)

Summer catches Bran up on the sack of Winterfell, so the team stops hiding in the crypts and splits the party for a road trip.

Chapter 69? !!! that's the funny number!!!

Yet as one smell drew them onward, others warned them back. He sniffed at the drifting smoke. Men, many men, many horses, and fire, fire, fire. No smell was more dangerous, not even the cold smell of iron, the stuff of man-claws and hardskin. The smoke and ash clouded his eyes, and in the sky he saw a great winged snake whose roar was a river of flame. He bared his teeth, but then the snake was gone. Behind the cliffs tall fires were eating up the stars.

Oh that sounds so apocalyptic. And in a way I suppose it kinda was a small apocalypse, Winterfell set aflame and razed. I love the way Summer refers to human stuff, "man-claws" and "hardskin" instead of swords and armour, it feels organic, not overly forced, which I know can be a bit of a balancing act between what an intelligent creature would know, versus what an animal would really understand and contextualize human things.

also, correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the scene right? the one that people say "oh this is what Dany's vision meant re: a great beast taking wing and breathing fire"?

"From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire..."

I'm... not sure this is the moment, tbh. I dunno, something about the wording just doesn't go 'click' for me. Mostly because Summer is seeing it and and thinking 'snake' not 'beast' (the 'stone' part is understandable to leave out, regardless of if it's relevant or not) and I get that that is an incredibly strange thing to get caught up on but... given that we had wildfire pseudo-anthropomorphized by Davos as a demon, I just get the feeling it's more in line with that than with Dany's vision. Also that her vision called it shadow fire specifically...

I mean it could be the vision moment, I might just be reading it from the wrong angle, but ... *shrugs*

Heck, the vision might not be a single moment in the series but a repeating motif.

well now i kinda want to print off all the "prophecies" and paste 'em to my walls to use like a checklist. XD

anyway, moving on~

He closed his third eye and opened the other two, the old two, the blind two. In the dark place where all men were blind. But someone was holding him. He could feel arms around him, the warmth of a body snuggled close. He could hear Hodor singing "Hodor, hodor, hodor," quietly to himself.

Oh poor Hodor. You're doing amazing sweetie. (all these kids are doing amazing, let's be honest.)

His tongue felt thick and strange in his mouth. One day when I come back I won't know how to talk anymore. ... "Too long. you'll starve yourself. Meera dribbled a little water down your throat, and we smeared honey on your mouth, but it is not enough. ... "The wolf ate," Jojen said. "Not you. Take care, Bran. Remember who you are."

It really has been all about Identity for the Stark siblings this book, about the loosing of self, or the threat of it anyway.

Also: warging is super dangerous. (Modern AUs, do you think they'd have little clinics and wards set up with stuff so Wargs could do their astral possession thing while their bodies are doing their best impersonation of a coma patient?)

Bran had to squint as the pitch began to burn, filling the world with orange glare. The light woke Rickon, who sat up yawning. When the shadows moved, it looked for an instant as if the dead were rising as well.

Nice. But not yet.

They need a red glass case for their torches if they're going to be down in the dark for so long. Red light is one of the best for doing dark cave tours, I went to one of the glow worm caves once, Arachnocampa glow worms, not firefly larvae glow worms, by the way (fun fact, glow worms of the Arachnocampa Genus are only found in like, 10? places world wide iirc, and they are all in Australia and New Zealand, and also they glow blue not yellow/green) and we did the tour with red light torches/flashlights, which allowed us to see everything after a small adjustment period, but the didn't spook the glow worms because many cave dwelling beasties cannot see the red light wave length, but also we didn't point the torches directly at them, they were plenty bright enough on their own. Anyway, because of the wavelength, red light can be used to see, without wrecking your night vision, and going from full dark to red light doesn't hurt your eyes as much as things in the orange, yellow or white light spectrum.

Osah carried her long oaken spear in one hand and the torch in the other. A naked sword hung down her back, one of the last to bear Mikken's mark. He had forged it for Lord Eddard's tomb, to keep his ghost at rest. But with Mikken slain and the ironmen guarding the armory, good steel had been hard to resist, even if it meant grave-robbing. Meera had claimed Lord Rickard's blade, though she complained it was too heavy. Brandon took his namesake's, the sword made for the uncle he had never known. He knew he would not be much use in a fight, but even so the blade felt good in his hand.

I am having feels about them being armed by Starks past. By his ancestors, by the dead.

also: " Meera had claimed Lord Rickard's blade, though she complained it was too heavy." You know who has a nice light Valyrian steel sword that was originally a lady's blade? Brynden Rivers, Three-eyed Raven.

#Let Meera Have Dark Sister 2023!!!

... I feel like there was some kind of intent behind Theon Stark being known as 'the Hungry Wolf' when Theon Greyjoy has such a hungry personality, always wanting things but never satiated.

"Open the door, Hodor," Bran said.

Why do you hurt me like this?

They stood in the shadow of the First Keep, or what remained of it. One whole side of the building had torn loose and fallen away. Stone and shattered gargoyles lay strewn across the yard. They fell just where I did, Bran thought when he saw them. Some of the gargoyles had broken into so many pieces it made him wonder how he was alive at all.

This feels symbolic, both in terms of Bran and Winterfell, but also like a call back to the dream of falling where all those other dreamers were pierced or shattered on the stony spikes below but Bran managed to fly.

... post apocalyptic cityscape indeed. Shit.

Good catch by Osha, the signs that Theon hadn't done this. Like he crossed some lines, but he would never have done this.

LUWIN!!!!! oh gosh.

The maester smiled. "Hush now, child, I'm much older than you. I can... die as I please."

Nooooooo, no, no , nonono! You can't! You're the MVP of the North.

(But also before you go: good job on sussing out the ruse from the dead child's non-atrophies leg muscles. see, this is why you're MVP.)

The stone is strong, Bran told himself, the roots of the trees go deep, and underground the Kings of Winter sit their thrones. So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken. Like me, he thought. I'm not dead either.

Well, I'll say this for GRRM, he sure knows how to sucker-punch me last minute with these books.

I really like the hopeful tone in this, ("I'm not dead either.") not just for the future of Winterfell, but from Bran's personal arc, it feels like even though all this horrible stuff has happened, he's finally ready to take the first few steps out of the dark part of his recovery arc, and actually start mental and emotional recovery in regards to his fall.

... actually, hang on, I just need to check something...

ahhh, that's what's pinging, I think.

GoT, Bran II: [Winterfell] had grown over the centuries like some monstrous stone tree, Maester Luwin told him once, and its branches were gnarled and thick and twisted, its roots sunk deep into the earth.

okay, tomorrow is a 'rest' day, because it's the appendix, and then the day after we'll start Steel and Snow. (aka: A Storm of Swords Part 1)

Two books down, yay!!

#a clash of kings #a song of ice and fire #bran stark #a chapter a day reading #acok #asoiaf

7 notes · View notes

camelerror0 · 1 year

Text

Not known Facts About 21 Day Smoothie Diet Meal Plan (PDF & Menu)

The 21-Day Smoothie Diet is a weight reduction plan touted as an easy and helpful option to gimmick diets. The objective is to attain a smoothie mix (ie, a high-calorie combination of fats packed in a easy and hassle-free package) which lasts for at least 30 days and supplies an exceptional dietary stream to fat, healthy protein, and carbohydrates as they develop up in your physical body over the course of longer durations. This program also has a whole lot of fantastic healthy-sounding meals assistance. In truth, the creator of the planning declares that the diet plan is connected along with a long checklist of perks and can easily help enhance sleeping, keep your skin layer glowing, increase energy degrees, and raise body weight reduction nearly instantly. The brand-new research looked at three separate research studies, coming from four teams of clients, and used information coming from the original research to study the results of specific diet plan on other elements of health and wellness, including heart (muscle mass fiber), insulin, leptin, glucose, and blood stream worry. Having said that, there are numerous significant downsides affiliated with this course, and it might do more harm than excellent in the long run when it comes to your wellness. 1 In an analysis of what individuals claim or do under the assistance of the CDC, researchers located that 4 percent of parents of teenagers described what they felt to be an likely hazard to their lives as threatening, but this was lesser than typical. This short article will take a closer appeal at the 21-Day Smoothie Diet, how it works, and some of the adverse risks and side results it may be associated with. A Smoothie Diet for Overworked Men As you're probably knowledgeable, the majority of of the time guys are not looking for the best dietary benefits of their meal because of diet. This is because males invest way too much amount of money on food items and as well little bit of opportunity on meals as a group. The 21-Day Smoothie Diet is a body weight reduction plan cultivated by wellness instructor Drew Sgoutas. The diet plan consists of four dishes, meals six full weeks apart during regular days to improve muscle mass mass and blood stream pressure. The dish program is separated into three main sections. Fasting Breakfast: 4 to 6 hours a day Restorative Morning: Mid-day to 4 pm Nightly Evening: 3-4pm Tuesday-Friday breakfast: Lunch and snack foods. The planning includes exchanging two of your foods each time along with smoothies, and the principles of the plan are detailed in the e-book, “The Smoothie Diet,” which is accessible online for $47.99. The e-book goes on sale Jan. 13. You can easily discover even more info on how these suggestions are applied straight to your diet plan in my e-book, Lean On: How to Start Cooking and Lose Weight. The e-book includes 36 healthy smoothie dishes, food and snack food concepts, shopping listings, weekly timetables, and tips for readying the shakes and keeping body weight reduction long-term. The e-book likewise includes an extensive look at all the different e-book component in one hassle-free place! You may additionally check out our evaluation that features a sample of our e-book products at www.chefandlover.com for what's all brand new! According to Sgoutas, the 3-week diet regimen plan can aid market well-balanced eating, improve immune system feature, detoxify the physical body, improve skin layer and gut health and wellness, and rev up energy levels. The new suggestions seem in The Clinical Practice, an on-line publication sustaining clients' analysis initiatives in their key care. It outline the health and nutrition of 3-week diet regimen and helps patients select the appropriate source of vitamin D in purchase to maximize perk.

Sgoutas additionally states that the diet regimen can boost weight reduction. Another new study looked at what individuals say occurred along with the diet regimen. The research study utilized data from additional than 1,700 women on a 12-month study of diet plan, workout, booze (BACs), and smoking. It presented that males and women had comparable take ins regarding body fat mass, bodily task, smoking length, and consumption of particular foods – such as meat, cheese, dairy products, nuts, and seeds. In truth, some reviews featured on the website insurance claim that the program led to up to 9 pounds (4 kilograms) of weight reduction in simply 3 days. Such insurance claim could be even further increased if more data is compiled. "The a lot more the story gets disclosed, the more we're thinking concerning how a lot of something it really is," stated Tambett. "When The Most Complete Run-Down of us is speaking regarding it, we're shedding a little bit of. recap The 21-Day Smoothie Diet is a 3-week diet plan program that entails substituting two foods per day along with shakes. 3 times every week is encouraged for grownups as effectively as under the age of 30. The diet regimen is carried out so that you are not getting rid of calories in order to experience like you are obtaining body weight. All time long you are going to appreciate consuming delectable and healthy and balanced fruits and vegetables in a healthy manner over the training course of the day. 2 portions of healthy foods is all you require!

#the smoothie diet #the smoothie diet plan #smoothie lose weight #smoothie diet

0 notes

mallingrosendal · 2 years

Text

Find out Article Promotion Capabilities

With regards to article promotion, a number of people believe it is a tricky topic to comprehend, but marketing with articles is just tough if you aren't informed sufficient on the subject. To become successful at article writing, you must often be on the search for new information. This short article may serve as but one of the locations available the info that you desire.

youtube

No one will go through a uninteresting post. Make your writing informal and friendly. Whether or not the materials you are going over is complex, try to use everyday terms everyone will comprehend. Uninteresting content material will change visitors aside. If Jasper ai review , you can obtain a good amount of targeted visitors by writing and submitting articles that refer people returning to your web site. These posts increase your google search awareness, which, subsequently, raises the quantity of individuals who will see your advertisement on the website. With there becoming a wide variety of men and women online, you want to make sure that your commercials are viewed with the correct potential audience. When your company offers women's purses and handbags, it will stop being very helpful or rewarding to promote your product or service on a men's well being site. Being conscious of your target audience could indicate the main difference between steady income and slow organization.

In case you are not a good article writer then it could be very best not to attempt to create your tales on your own. You should employ someone to perform them for yourself so you get all of the details you need set across and you do not make your self or your business seem poor. Give your potential customers ways to talk about your site content. If someone enjoys your posts and wants to share it, you should definitely allow this. The better specific content material shares you have, the better your web site seems to the search engines. Expressing can also increase audience, by letting people who may well not search for you, to view your articles anyway. In case you are experiencing difficulty coordinating the articles you write and getting them study, employ the tried out-and-correct checklist format. Posts established as details have proven to be very popular and efficient online. The dwelling is a straightforward a single for freelance writers to work alongside. Visitors reply properly to list-variety posts. Databases always keep write-up lines short and punchy - suitable for online producing. If you would like do well at article writing, you must produce substantial quantity, top quality job. This two concentrate will give your readers beneficial content on numerous types of subject matter. The better you just work at your creating, the easier it might be. This will help you to develop articles in a a lot more speedy speed. Include key phrases for your backlinks from the publisher authors bio box after your content. The writing needs to include your keywords and should always give the reader for your original article or weblog. Jasper ai during these will help reinforce your search term and definately will drive men and women to see more information about you increasing your web page landscapes. Will not make an effort to complete on other people's function as your very own. The glowing principle in article marketing will be authentic. Your site content has to be your very own or else you will develop a reputation in the marketplace like a content material crook and your newly found career is going to be above before it begins. Article marketing is among the most powerful web marketing methods you may use. It really is cost-free and will really draw followers to your web site. Tend not to get worried in case you are not a great deal of blogger, visitors are searching for aid, not innovative words and phrases. Supply beneficial and helpful tips and you may become successful. After you have accomplished composing your marketing post, you have to create an overview which can be at the very least two phrases, and not more than several phrases, extended. This conclusion ought to quickly identify what your write-up has to offer. Commencing your summary by having an action verb may help you connect your reader. To achieve success at article writing you should make writing a priority. One technique that actually works nicely is to reserve a prohibit of time day-to-day simply for creating. To be effective you must shut your door, switch off your cell phone, and prevent interruptions for the duration of your creating time. Your productivity will increase if you totally dedicate in this way. Although a write-up is surely an powerful advertising tool to work with, it does not necessarily mean that each write-up is going to be an efficient marketing tool. A person must attempt to produce the finest article possible, each and every time, if an report is usually to thrive. If you want to make best use of article promotion, you must determine your potential audience. This way you can particularly personalize your post to appeal to your audience. Owning an fascinating brief explanation is a great idea. This is exactly what will likely be obvious to the search engines. An stimulating phrase will entice viewers. Mention what they can expect from the post without the need of giving out an excessive amount of and people will mind directly to your blog. An incredible article promotion tip is to make sure your content is obviously relevant to the keywords you employ. Should you just choose keywords which can be well-known and publish articles that's insignificant, your articles will get rid of lots of believability in search motors. Constantly write articles that's connected to keywords. Take advantage of the principle of 3 to your articles. A few elements make content articles interesting and memorable to your visitors. The launch shows them what to anticipate. The body of the post delivers about the guarantee you produced in the name in the article. The conclusion reminds viewers of the significant points and leads them towards activity. Using the information and facts you have acquired in this post, you need to sense a little more positive to your article promotion efforts. You need to be aware of that this information and facts of this article is only a section of all you should know, just to be profitable with article writing. Keep an eye out for additional information and form a technique, based on the things you discover.

#jarvis #copywriting #writing #essay #jasper #content

1 note · View note

transparentarbiterdream · 2 years

Text

The Worst Advice You Could Ever Get About pre roll blunts

Examine This Report on Cannabis Pre-roll

Table of ContentsCannabis Pre-roll Things To Know Before You BuyPre-rolls Fundamentals ExplainedGet This Report on Cannabis Pre-rollNot known Details About Pre-rolls - Thc Design Cannabis Cultivator

All would certainly dangle along with himeven if he was actually sort of a cock. Nowadays, whether you can easily spin your very own smokes or otherwise is pointless. Between smoothing equipments, pre-rolled conoids, as well as other tools of the field, there is actually truly no explanation to buy your papers independently from your ozs. Actually, I 'd contend that the greatest way to acquire a coveted chair in the circle, to enjoy a solo smoke, or to receive special along with someone special on the best of higher vacations is actually to bypass all the work totally and also purchase your joints pre-rolled (pre roll pack).

What issues very most, naturally, is what is actually inside, but with apologies to the rom-com group, appeals issue, too. Below is actually a checklist of pre-rolled joints that inspect each containers, to assist you buy and lightweight with confidenceso long as they are lawful to appreciate in your state, certainly. (Canndescent) Canndescent has some attractive pre-roll products, however it's the assortment pack offering that truly create this brand name worth grabbing. pre rolls pack.

Other than these blends each fit a different objective. Voyage, Attach, Generate, Calm, as well as Cost: nab the appropriate pre-roll for the ideal mood (what is a pre roll). In our experience, Tranquility was actually a terrific end-of-night smoke cigarettes, while, Hook up always kept the chat dynamic if undistinct as it was actually passed all around, and also Cruise was actually somewhere in between, for when you would like to prepare the remainder of your day on mental cruise command (preroll packs).

The pink tips are refined, and the tensions, After Hours, Air Castle, and also Glow Upmake for some excellent, situation-specific usage scenarios. what is a pre roll. Our preference was actually the blissful Castle in spain high, which would go wonderful instead of (or alongside) ros times and also breakfast afternoons. It's fair to claim true men smoke pink, but brilliant guys (and ladies) ranges possess one thing available for every taste.

To read more visit Sundazed on Instagram. (Helmand Lowland Growers Business) Founded through a team of USA Special-Ops experts, Helmand Lowland Growers Company debuted along with a clear message as well as function: to help professionals through delivering health care marijuana. Their strategy: offer fantastic cannabis to the rest of our company to do it.

There's a lot to become stated for sustaining the folks that shield our flexibilities (including the liberty to smoke) along with what you smoke - preroll delivery. Our team would certainly highlight their indica strains, which are pain-relief preroll blunts centered as well as soothing, whether the pain is new coming from the gym or even workplace, or even has actually been along with you pretty a while.

Pre-roll Blunts And Joints For Sale Online Fundamentals Explained

Cannabis pre-rolls as well as blunts have a lot of perks when matched up to other kinds of taking in cannabis. Marijuana pre-rolls are actually pertained to through customers as being actually exceptionally practical because pre-rolls are mobile, distinct, as well as require little job from the individual besides igniting completion with a lighter or even suit. Beyond that, pre-rolls as well as pre-roll blunts are actually a fantastic technique to sample various strains of marijuana, making it easier to choose which strains you would love to get additional of eventually.

There are actually numerous variables that can influence the expense of pre-rolls, including marijuana tax obligations, quality of bloom, and sort of pre-roll. For instance, instilled pre-rolls have a tendency to set you back greater than frequent pre-rolls - pre rolls. In some states, you may additionally discover pre-rolls marketed in packs, which will be actually extra expensive than acquiring solitary pre-rolls.

This mix is actually robotically ground in a gigantic grass food processor, which damages the trichomes that house terpenes and also cannabinoids, before being freely filtered into conoids. Accurately not a fantastic method for the purist (or also somebody who suches as to acquire delicately higher). From the consumer viewpoint, it is actually actually inconceivable to know what is actually inside a pre-roll when you get it.

Wonderful companies don't produce bad items. The brand name responsible for the preroll has to yearn for to give a superior adventure (and also worry their track record suffering, typically), because nothing at all is stopping all of them coming from raising frames utilizing uneven techniques. Despite pitfalls, there go to this factor in the arc of legal pot a lots of remarkable junctions on the market. pre roll weed.

Look at 5 prerolls I like, smoked and also rated. Glass Property Farms Glass House Farms as well as their remove company Industry can be found in very hot along with these little Marine Layer diamond-infused pre-rolls. These are some very seriously sturdy little junctions. When I price junctions I just like to begin with one thing called a dry smash hit.

The flavor of the blossom was actually a musky mix of fruit product as well as citrus (pre rolled blunt). While the junction really did not have much of a smell, which is actually common with pre-rolls, it struck hard as screw. I was actually surprised, actually, through exactly how powerful they were actually. I blacked out on pot for some time there as well as don't truly remember what I was performing since I was actually so spaced.

A Biased View of Pre-roll

The luxury up elevating into one thing fun and also illumination, only like the sea coating that clings to mornings on the central coast of California, where this strain is actually from - preroll pack. This joint is actually not for novice consumers, and would be ideal suited for an activity where folks may not be anticipating extremely a lot from you.

When I ignited this joint I promptly recognized it was instilled since my eyes received heavy as well as my scalp obtained swimmy. The flavors were citrus and also want with an exotic cast. pre rolls. I can just smoke a little of the junction just before spacing off in to oblivion and also forgetting I was actually smoking in all. what are pre rolls.

When I ignited the joint, I was actually fined notes of citrus and also desire. The smoke cigarettes was actually a little bit of extreme however that's usually the case with pre-rolls as the mechanically ground flower dries out therefore fast. preroll blunts. Right away, I kicked in to high gear however not in a crazed or even distressed technique in a passionate and also productive-yet-relaxed way.

I found that I managed to think clearly and coming from a more pleased standpoint. packwoods. The anxiousness which typically leads to postponement simply failed to exist. I managed to compose without obtaining sidetracked as well as produce unique suggestions easily. I LOVED these. Great for daytime usage, thrilling, and sharp. Equally as satisfied for working all time as they are for heading out.

I discovered this joint to become the best day-off buddy for an amount of causes. On the very first inhale I was actually fined a solid peachy, sharp flavor that was really great. Right away, I was actually higher, which is actually naturally a really good indicator and also seems evident but you would be actually surprised exactly how often they don't.

I experienced all the different methods that weed can create you believe good. It felt type of like levitating. It made me want to go outside, have a blast and laugh along with my friends in the sunshine, certainly not make an effort to center or even obtain one thing significant performed. I also located the higher to be extremely social, in contrast to giving me social anxiousness which commonly takes place when you receive extremely stoned. pre rolled blunt.

Rumored Buzz on Cannabis Pre-roll

Pre-rolled junctions from Silver Stalk Alright Marijuana are actually handcrafted through our specialist workers coming from the finest hand developed cannabis flower in the state. pre rolled weed.

For years, many prerolls had varied mixtures of shake as well as completely dry vegetation parts, featuring contains and also excess fallen leaves, since developers found that they might significantly save money on costs through stuffing their pre rolls with item that would certainly otherwise waste. As medical cannabis regulations flowered around the country, even more competition entered the arena, which steered premium up and rates down.

0 notes

heyitsgigisadventures · 8 months

Text

The Ultimate Glow Up Checklist | Glow Up Challenge, Printable Workbook

The Ultimate Glow Up Checklist | Glow Up Challenge, Printable Workbook Do you want to become That Girl literally overnight? This is the printable workbook for you! With more than 50 pages for you to print and study, you’ll be able to create a whole new you in just 24 hours! Hey, pretty people! Are you looking for an effective way to level up in your life without completely changing…

View On WordPress

1 note · View note

inkformyblood · 3 years

Text

You Speak Of Grace

Commander Cody Week Day 02 Origins [ @commandercodyweek ]

Pairing: Codywan

Summary: Cody is about to meet his new Jedi, but he will make sure his men are as prepared as they can be. Little does he know that Obi-Wan is anything but what he was expecting.

“Once more.” Cody’s voice rang out as the test alarms died away, eliciting a fresh wave of groans from the assembled clones. From behind his helmet, Cody glanced over the group, running through the list in his mind once again. The heavy gloves hid the faint trembling of his hands as his fingers danced over the datapad, drawing up another scenario. “Test Scenario 00726. Oya!”

Distantly, Cody could almost hear Alpha-17’s low rumbling laugh echo forth from his memory at their displays of grumbling compliance. He carefully ignored the brother at the back — Crys, he thought, judging from the bright yellow daubed over his pauldrons and the dark hair growing up through the unnatural yellow dye — who ducked behind a console and emerged after swallowing down the last dregs of his caf.

The consoles rang shrilly as they ran through the necessary checks once more, heads lowered as the other clones focused on their own work. Cody sensed movement just behind him, but didn’t turn, watching the grey painted shape of Helix, their medic, move up behind him in the reflection of a console.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Helix’s voice was soft but no less filled with purpose, expecting to be heard and understood. Cody was the Commander of the Battalion, but Helix was the medic, and that was something entirely different.

“Granted.”

Helix tapped the comm on his wrist, shifting to a private channel, and Cody stifled the reflexive twinge of fear that rattled down his spine. Fear was useful, Alpha-17 had barked at the younger clones in the Command Track, echoing the words of the trainers before him, but it was also dangerous. Drawing in a deep breath, letting it flow through him rather than rule his thoughts, Cody switched to the private channel as well.

“You are doing a good job,” Helix murmured, his voice slightly distorted over the comm. “You are already a good commander, and having a Jedi won’t change that.”

Cody didn’t respond, didn’t want to think about what Helix could read in the sudden stillness of his hands or the lines of tension that flickered into life along his shoulders, but merely nodded, his throat tight.

Helix lightly tapped the back of his wrist guard against Cody’s hip in a silent benediction. “I’m going to head down to medical. Over the next few days, I’ll need to check on the troopers and the Jedi to get a baseline.”

“I’ll draw up a rota,” Cody promised, adding yet another item onto his mental checklist. Dimly, he spared a thought for how his brothers in the command track were faring. Their own comms channel had been eerily quiet since they had received their battalion allocations and left in the early hours of the morning with one final message each of “Oya”.

“Appreciate it,” Helix said with an inclination of his head and stepped away. The other medics, Border and Patience, shadowed him like ghosts, barely half a step behind in a haunting unison that would have made the trainers proud.

Cody turned back to the men, tracking their progress as they worked through the machines, feeling a warm glow of pride settle in his chest. This would work. This had to work.

A warning prickled at the base of his skull, and Cody was already turning to face the doorway by the time his mind had drawn the context clues together.

As Helix left, his pace had slowed slightly, and the soft whoosh of the doors closing took longer than it should have. One of the troopers had raised his head, gaze fixed at something over Cody’s shoulder as one of his hands formed the beginning of the symbol for ‘Mother’, a warning of being watched back on Kamino. But the critical clue was the message flashing from the Command Track Chat from Bly that only read ‘oh no my Jedi’s hot.’

“Hello there.”

“Hello, sir,” Cody said, running on instinct as the rest of his mind went blissfully blank. The only information he had been given was a name and a grainy holo picture to recognise his Jedi by. A small thrill ran down his spine at that thought. Possession was still something all the clones were getting used to, and the knowledge that this man was his, was theirs, was more than Cody could have thought possible.

“Jetti on bridge,” Cody barked over his shoulder to the others, feeling the weight of their eyes on his back.

Obi-Wan smiled, the edges of his eyes — so unbelievably blue, like the point where the ocean met the sky — crinkling. “Please, Commander, call me Obi-Wan.”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody repeated with a nod, further committing it to memory. He was grateful for the helmet that was still covering his head as he felt the heat settle in his cheeks. Full armour was cumbersome for now, but it had been better to be safe than sorry.

“From what I understand, you have names as well?” Obi-Wan’s gaze darted around the room; his voice pitched low. “I don’t wish to cause any offence; this situation is very new to me.” He tucked his hands into his sleeves, clasping them in front of him.

“CC-2224 is my designation. But my name is Cody, sir.”

It was as if Cody’s words ripped the oxygen from the room, every trooper freezing in place in perfect military rest. Obi-Wan had to feel the pressure lowering onto his shoulders, but he merely grinned once more.

“Cody. That’s an excellent name and a good choice.” Obi-Wan paused, glancing around the room and meeting the gaze of every trooper who quickly lowered their heads back to their consoles at Cody’s signal.

“I trust I can count on you to keep me right, Cody? I will defer to your expertise.” Obi-Wan’s grin was as warm as sunlight, intoxicating when it was directed at just Cody, and he felt his cheeks burst with heat once more.

“Yessir,” Cody said, snapping back into parade rest out of habit.

“I’m not sure what the Kamioans have told you, but if you’re amenable, full armour outside of active combat isn’t required.” Obi-Wan paused with a heavy sigh, looking far older than he was for a moment before he pushed whatever memory it was away. “This isn’t my first war, but no need to make it harder than it needs to be.”

“So,” Cody swallowed, turning his head slightly to track Boil and Waxer’s whispering, their heads pressed together out of the corner of his eye, “Permission to dismiss the men to store their extras?”

“Permission more than granted, Commander.”

If Cody had thought that his mind went blank before, it was nothing compared to being alone on the bridge with Obi-Wan. In every scenario, every training simulation or exercise, nothing could have prepared him for this moment. Alpha-17 and the others took after Prime almost perfectly, and that applied to his lack of attraction as well, at best able to offer rough support to a heartbroken trooper in basic training.

Obi-Wan began to move around the bridge, glancing over the simulated manoeuvres that had been programmed in with a gleam of interest in his eyes. “If you want, Cody, you can store your belongings as well. We’re going to be working together for a while, and I see no reason to start out with extreme formality.”

Cody’s hands were steady as he reached up to remove his helmet, subtly pressing at the itch that had erupted two hours ago at the nape of his skull as he did so. Obi-Wan’s face softened as he watched him, unable to hide the obvious curiosity in his eyes.

“I can definitely see the resemblance.”

Cody laughed, the noise startled out of him, jaw snapping shut with a click.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he began, but Obi-Wan cut him off with a wave of his hand, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

“Please, don’t apologise, Cody. If there is anyone at fault, then it is me.”

“No, sir.” Cody paused to find the correct words, tapping his fingers against the edge of the datapad as he thought. This wasn’t what he had been expecting, Obi-Wan wasn’t what he had been expecting, but he always had been quick on his feet. “As you said, no reason to start out with extreme formality. No fault here.”

Obi-Wan hummed quietly as he thought, and Cody took a moment to inspect the Jedi he would be serving under. The robes hid much of his frame, but Obi-Wan had moved with confidence, despite the fact that the fabric wouldn’t give much protection or possibly act as a hindrance. Cody made another note on his mental list, needing to confer with the other Commanders once everyone had settled again.

“I think this is going to be an excellent partnership, Cody,” Obi-Wan said at last. “With that in mind, with the full reassurance that you can tell me no at any time for whatever reason, would you like to join me for a cup of tea? I believe there is some final paperwork to go over.”

“Yessir,” Cody answered before the full implication hit him. Obi-Wan would be sharing, even serving most likely, something precious of his, something he had deliberately chosen to bring aboard a battleship, knowing the cargo restrictions. “I’d be honoured.”

“Excellent! Anakin, my padawan—” Obi-Wan paused, and Cody wordlessly fell into pace at his side, a few inches shorter than the other man as he titled his head to continue watching him, “—he never quite got the taste for it, unfortunately.”

“I am looking forward to it, sir.”

Obi-Wan gave him a look, his grin all fond curled edges.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody corrected himself. He felt like a fool to hope, but it was a hope he held onto tightly.

Out of sight, Cody tapped a message into the Command Chat before silencing it, knowing the explosions it would spawn. ‘Mine’s better, vod.’

#codyweek2021 #codywan #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #star wars #clone medic helix #my writing

302 notes · View notes

countrymusiclover · 2 years

Text

4 - Scetch Testing

Part 5

Iron Stone masterlist

"Y/n we can't just start with flying!" Tony complains as I'm working on one of the feet thrusters attached to my left foot. My right foot is no longer in a brace, but I still can't put a bunch of pressure on it yet.

Whipping my head in his direction I toss some hair over my light orange shirt, torn blue jeans and my white tenna shoes. "Do I need to show the video again. Because we won't know if we've succeeded without tests." I pull out my phone hitting play on the video of him being blasted that Pepper sent me long ago.

He swiped my phone from my hands hitting pause on the video, groaning running a hand through his dark brown hair. "Uh! I wish Potts never sent that to you . . . Jarvis!"

"Powering up, sir."

The AI's voice filled the room, turning on the computer to see a video recorder of me. "Alright, all systems ago...5% try."

I take a breath counting down to 1 the thrusters go off and shoot me around the garage. I screamed as I nearly hit one of the cars, but I grab my necklace shifting away from them. Only to blast into Dummy the robot on the stone floor. "Jarvis shut it down! - Y/n are you-"

Tony cut himself off, bending down on a knee to see I've only got minor cuts. My right hand gripping my necklace that glows a bright orangeish-yellow. My left hand against my forehead with the Dummy robot removing the robot thrusters. "Ton, I'm fine...ah! You were right."

"I told you, you're suit ain't ready." He huffs pulling me to my feet and sitting me on the stool. A sharp gasp broke our attention towards the door to see an angry Pepper standing with a checklist, in a blue pant suit her hair pinned up in a messy bun.

"What the heck are you two doing, trying to get yourselves killed or something hours before the big event!" Tony and I both raised brows. "What big event?"

Both of us turned our heads towards one another, declaring happily. "Jinks!" Afterwards throwing our arms up, cracking up in laughter. "Jinks again!"

The party to reveal the Stark Expo...get dressed!" Pepper pitched the tip of her nose heading up the stairs.

I lay my head on his shoulder feeling him take a deep breath glancing over his shoulder to the red Iron Man suit. "What do you think about a big entrance?" I smirked getting to my feet and pulling him up, placing a kiss to his cheek before going to get dressed. "Wouldn't expect anything less from you."

The party was in full swing as I record with my phone wearing tenna shoes under my dress, my hair all loose. Tony lands through a hole in the ceiling on the tiny white circle platform, wearing the famous suit. The tech robots removed the suit for me to see him in his black tux, the crowd cheered his name when he announced proudly. "Oh, it's good to be back. You missed me?" Someone cut him off requesting. "Blow something up!"

Tony chuckled in response. "I missed you, too. Blow something up. I already did that." Everyone laughs as I smile at him. "I'm not saying that the world is enjoying its longest period of uninterrupted peace in years because of me." I threw my right fist in the air making everyone else cheer. "I'm not saying that from the ashes of captivity, never has a greater Phoenix metaphor been personified in human history. I'm not saying that Uncle Sam can kick back on a lawn chair, sipping on an iced tea because I haven't come across anyone who's man enough to go toe-to-toe with me on my best day!"

A random woman shouted. "I love you, Tony!" I bawl my freehand into a fist but stop hearing Tony's voice in my earpiece. "Don't get all jealous, darling."

He held up his left hand speaking. "Please, it's not about me." He holds up both hands shacking his head lightly. "It's not about you. It's not even about us. It's about legacy. It's about what we choose to leave behind for future generations. And that's why for the next year and for the first time since 1974, the best and brightest men and women of nations and corporations the world over will po their resources, share their collective vision, to leave a brighter future."

The crowd cheered once again. "It's not about us. Therefore, what I'm saying, if I'm saying anything, is back to the Stark Expo. And now, making a special guest appearance from the great beyond to tell you what it's all about, please welcome my father, Howard." Tony goes behind the curtain as I get a go sign from his earpiece. "Y/n follow security out here to find me." I followed a guy in a black suit and tie that takes me backstage to see a smiling Tony.

"Alright it's a zoo out there, you ready?" A security lady asked opening the door. He wrapped his arms around me kissing me lightly. I gulped my back straightened when Tony talks my right hand in his, whispering. "Deep breaths, hold on tight and ignore everything all those other woman say."

Cameras flash making me squint as women and men try to get a hold of Tony, some reporters try to hassle me as well. Finally we got to the car as Happy drives. The three of us ended up in Washington D. C. I've changed into a dress shirt and nice jeans sitting behind Tony who keeps winking back at me. The judge bangs his gavel on the wooden stand. "Mr. Stark, could we pick up where we left off? Mr. Stark, please. "

"Yes, dear?" Tony whipped his head around. "Can I have your attention?" The judge asked. Tony replied leaning forward on the table. "Absolutely."

"Do you or do you not posses a specialized weapon?" Tony stares. "I do not." The judge asked again. "You do not-"

"Well, it depends on how you define the word weapon. " Tony inquired as I twiddle with my thumbs. "The Iron Man weapon....The court also has speculations that your girlfriend Miss Y/n L/n is helping you create an Iron weapon for her-" That's impossible. We haven't leaked anything out to the press.

Tony jumped up in defense of his armor. "My device does not fit that description-" The judge cut in. "Well, how would you describe it?"

Tony rolls his eyes at the Senator of the White House. "I would describe it by defining it as what it us, Senator. As a high-tech prosthesis. That's actually the most apt description I can make of it. As for the rumors of a second suit and my girlfriend that is falsified infor-"

"It's a weapon. It's a weapon, Mr. Stark."

Senator cut him off. "Please, if you're priority was actually the well-being of the American citizen. . ."

"My priority is to get the Iron Man weapon turned over to the people of the United States of America." Senitor Stern declared causing Tony and I too rest our hands over our foreheads.

I jumped to my feet rounding the table to stand beside my boyfriend. "Well, you can forget it!"

Tony backes me up, angrily tapping his index finger on the wooden stand. "She's right. . . I am Iron Man. The suit and I are one. To turn over the Iron Man suit would be to turn over myself, which is tantamount to indentured servitude or prostitution, depending on what state you're in. You can't have it."

Tony's friend in the airforce was to testify as Tony hacks secret files to show the truth from other countries on the tv screen to the senators inside the chamber. "Hold on one second, buddy. Let me see something here. Oh boy, I'm good. I commandeered your screens. I need them. Time for a little transparency. Now let's see What's really going on. If you will direct your attention to said screens. . ." I gasped with my hand over my mouth and gripping his shoulder with the other, seeing the different countries using said suits of their own. "I believe that's North Korea. . . Iran. . . No grave immediate threat here. Is that Justin Hammer, how did he get in the game. Justin you're on tv, focus up."

Tears slip from my eyes causing me to whip them away with my arm. Tony takes my freehand in his looking out of the corner of his eye with sadness. "Yeah, I'd say most countries, 5 , 10 years away. Hammer industries, 20."

"I think we're understanding the point he's trying to make-" Another Senator says as I get frustrated, feeling my necklace go brighter. Tony squeezes my hand as a way of telling me to 'calm down or they'll be accusing you again' before leaning back in the chair announcing to the crowd of Senators.

"The point is, you're welcome, I guess." The Senator cut him off for like the 3rd time. "For what?"

Tony smacks his hand down on the table with cameras flashing. "Because I'm your nuclear deterrent. It's working. We're safe. America is secure. You want my property, you can't have it!" He gets to his feet dropping my hand from his, bringing all eyes of the Senators, their security and the reporters to belong to him. "But I did you a big favor. I've successfully privatized world peace."

The crowd clapped when he threw his hands out. "What more do you want, for now! I tried to play ball with these ass-clowns!" Tony aims his index finger at the screen whipping out his famous sunglasses, gently taking my hand in his. "Fuck you, Mr. Stark!" Senator Stein cursed but it was bleeped on the tv. I throw out my sunglasses, cursing as Tony and I exited the room of annoying Senators. "Fuck you, buddy."

Finally outside the chamber doors I released a deep breath I didn't realize I was holding in. Pressing my back firmly against the wooden door I closed my eyes briefly, hearing his deep laughter making me open them. "What's up, Ton?'

"That exit...was wow. You were just - hot Y/n." He stepped closer blocking me in between his chest and the doors. "T - Tony. We've never been this close..." I gulped blushing deeply.

He smiles anyhow leaning in to kiss me hungrily, gently resting his hands on my waist. My arms wrapped around his neck without a thought as I kissed back. But as much as I want to keep this moment going I had to break. Pushing my hands against his chest he pulled away barely, our noses still brushing. "What are we going to do about the press thinking, we're creating me my own personal Iron suit?"

"Don't fear baby, I've made more than they realize...I'll make the media look the other direction. Away from the both of us." He rests his forehead against mine as we both slowly take breath.

Just an average day with my boyfriend.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#iron stone #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man #robert downey jr #wattpad fanfiction #comments really appreciated

9 notes · View notes

esmealux · 3 years

Photo

Planning a Hell of a Wedding | ✓ mourning your lost days as a bachelor

Drabble 09 / ?

Setting: Post s5, maybe post s6?

Word count: 1.4K

Rating: M

Summary of the series: The Devil and the Detective make their way through the wedding planning checklist. One is more passionate about it than the other. (Works as a sequel to this fic.)

Author’s note: Rated M for Chloe’s dirty mind. Also, I wrote a great deal of this while drunk on champagne, so please forgive me.

Read it on Ao3

Lucifer grabs the drink Patrick just poured him and lifts it to his lips as he turns around to face his club. It’s buzzing as usual, the crowd moving to the pulsing bass while indulging in all kinds of debauchery. To the far right, a Bride-to-be sign glitters atop the head of a young, positively sozzled woman. In another time, he’d already be over there by now, drawing out the desires of her and her jealous, self-pitying girlfriends. Now, he just thinks of his own bride-to-be. Wishes she were here. Or that he were with her, snuggled up on their couch, drinking that cheap red wine she for some odd reason enjoys and stealing fruity kisses here and there.

‘Mourning your lost days as a bachelor?’

His lips instantly spread into a smile at the sound of her voice, his hands reaching for her waist before their eyes even meet.

‘What a delightful surprise,’ he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss. She smiles against his mouth and brings her fingers to his stubble, her ring brushing against his cheek. She tastes like mint gum and lip gloss and something distinctively her. He deepens the kiss for just a second.

‘There wasn’t that much paperwork after all, and Trixie’s with Dan,’ she explains when they pull apart.

She’s wearing a little black dress that hugs her perfect curves deliciously and reveals her long, bare legs. It’s quite amazing, how she manages to take away his breath every time he looks at her. Even more amazing that he gets to look at her, every day for the rest of-

‘Wait, doesn’t that mean we have the house to ourselves?’

She nods, biting her lip, and the instant effect it has on him is almost embarrassing.

‘What on Earth are we doing here, then? My face should be buried between your thighs right now!’

She snorts at his bluntness, used to it by now. Still, a blush creeps up her cheeks. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, a glint in her eyes.

‘You’re not even gonna buy me a drink first?’

Beneath the playfulness, he can tell she actually wants this, him and her in his nightclub, flirting and drinking. And how could he possibly say no to that?

‘Sorry, where are my manners?’ Lucifer apologises, and in the same instant, a large beer, her favourite, is placed in front of them.

‘For the Missus,’ Patrick says, winking at them both. Chloe thanks him with a smile and takes a long, sexily unladylike swig.

They sit and chat about nothing and everything, fingers intertwined on his thigh, as clubgoers in varying states of inebriation come and go around them. Chloe’s about to order another beer when Lucifer drags her out on the floor. They move together, inelegantly and not quite in sync with the music thanks to the Detective’s two left feet and her lacking sense of rhythm—but it’s okay. It’s more than okay, actually; it’s fun. Even more so when she turns around in his arms and starts rubbing her bum up against him.

He groans in her ear, his grip on her hip tightening. She twirls awkwardly under his arm to face him again and puts a little distance between them, a smirk on her face.

Tease.

Just as he’s pulled her closer, their fronts now pressed together, the music changes.

‘Oh, I love this song!’ Lucifer’s face lights up as the familiar beat and catchy tune fill the club. ‘Such an artist, he was.’ His smile is suspiciously wistful.

‘You slept with him, didn’t you?’

He looks down at her, grinning.

‘Why, Detective.’ He bends his neck, bringing his mouth to her ear. ‘I’m not usually one to shag and tell’—Chloe rolls her eyes—‘but yes of course.’

His confession is a hot breath against the side of her face, his lips brushing her earlobe, and Chloe doesn’t know how to respond to that, but it does make her think-

‘Are you- Are you gonna miss… that?’

He spins her around in an annoyingly smooth move so that her backside is pressed to his front again.

‘Miss what, darling?’ he asks, voice a little muffled as he kisses her neck.

‘You know.’ A series of not entirely disturbing images invade Chloe’s mind. ‘Men.’

He brings them face to face again, dark eyes blinking and brows furrowed in confusion.

‘Detective, are you asking me whether I’ll miss getting dicked once I officially vow to share my bed with only you, forever and always?’

Chloe looks down at their dancing feet. ‘Well, if you want to put it that way.’

Lucifer laughs, equally surprised and amazed.

‘No,’ he answers, his tone suddenly serious, yet still lined with drunken happiness.

‘No?’

He brings his hand from where it’s splayed across her lower back to her face, tenderly brushing his thumb across her cheek.

‘I do not and will not miss it,’ he assures her, eyes twinkling. ‘In fact, I don’t miss anything about my sex life, BC.’

Before she even thinks about asking, he leans down and, in a sultry whisper, clarifies, ‘Before Chloe.’ Then he places a kiss behind her ear, slow and wet.

‘Ah.’

He smirks and lets his hand glide from her face to her collarbone, pausing for a second before continuing across her breast, the side of her ribs, behind her back, and down to her ass—all the while still moving to the beat. He hums into the crook of her neck, his beard tickling her skin, and she puts a hand on his chest to steady herself. Her heartbeat quickens, a symptom of both physical exercise and having Lucifer wrapped around her, all mouth and hands.

‘No, but seriously, darling,’ he says, meeting her eyes in the half-darkness of the club. He suddenly feels the need to stress this, even though she probably already knows. She looks back at him, tipsy and dazed. Her golden ring, her star, glows softly on her finger, her hand warm against his chest. ‘I’ve always found sex to be fun, but with you…’

He considers her face as he searches for the words, admires her soft eyes and curious smile. His hand—the one that’s not splayed out across her delectable derriere—curls around her waist, pushing her impossibly closer. He relishes her warmth and nearness and the sway of her hips—how good it feels. How good she feels. He smiles at her, slow and vulnerable.

‘With you, it’s much more than just fun—much more than just sex. It’s…’

Mind-blowing. Poetic. Comforting. Ambrosial. Giddying. Glorious. Incredible. Meaningful.

‘Love,’ she finishes for him.

He nods, lips tugging up into a lopsided grin.

They dance some more, swinging and bopping to the music. At one point, he wraps both arms around her, hugging her as their bodies move together, and it’s nowhere near as perfected as their dance between the sheets, but it’s sweet and hot and he never wants to let go.

Neither does she, it seems, her hands roaming his chest and back, hungrily. With a mischievous smirk, she unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt, her fingers skimming down his torso to rest at his belt buckle.

‘Well, if you ever do miss… getting dicked…’ Her voice is drenched with sin, her eyes blown to black as her fingers dip into his slacks. They brush against his lower abdomen before they crawl around to his backside and, ever so lightly, come to rest between his cheeks. Then, with a force that makes him grunt, she thrusts her hips into his. ‘All you have to do is ask.’

Lucifer looks at her, lips parted in shock and wonder. Their dancing comes to an abrupt halt. Even unbuttoned at the top, his shirt suddenly feels too tight. His trousers are even worse. His pulse thrums in his ears.

‘Detective?’ he breathes, a question and a prayer.

With a truly wicked smile, she brings her fingers to the outside of his slacks and squeezes his ass in her small hand. He responds with a choked moan.

Slowly, she pulls away, leaving him in the middle of the dance floor, frozen and aching.

She’s only a couple of feet away when she glances over her shoulder.

‘You coming?’

He whimpers, scrambles after her as she heads for the elevator, and silently wonders what he ever did to deserve Chloe Decker.

#and then she pegged him happily ever after #deckerstar #writing #Planning a Hell of a Wedding #drabble #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #lucifer x chloe #chloe x lucifer #deckerstar fanfiction #lucifer fanfiction #post s5 #engaged deckerstar #established deckerstar #fluff #smut #deckerstar fluff #deckerstar smut #lucifer on netflix

44 notes · View notes

meridiansdominoes · 4 years

Text

Showers of Starlight

Incoming blyla incoming blyla incoming blyla

This issssss the sequel to ‘Catch the Rain’ that was posted a few weeks ago! @thatfunkyopossum HAPPY BIRTHDAY UR MY FAVORITE <3

(this is like, 6k words?? Is that okay to post in this weird tumblr format?? It’s gonna be mad long... well idk,,, but here it is anyway on ao3 too in case you don’t want to destroy ur dash with a long post heh

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24758554

Aayla finds her Commander standing out on the little balcony, dressed in civilian clothes and staring out into the city. Night turns Coruscant into an endless sea of luminescence. Air lanes become lines of shooting stars pressing onward in the darkness. Skyscrapers around them glow with the light of thousands of residents inside, creating trails of brilliance that ascend up towards the black sky.

By the time Aayla arrives at the complex that serves as the temporary housing for her officers while they’re on leave, the sun has disappeared from the sky, and she’s mentally exhausted. A full report to the Jedi Council takes effort and energy that she has to fight to produce, but she is required to give her debriefing before she can get some rest herself. She’s relieved that it’s over now, but there are still a few things to take care of. Her men need to be fully settled, otherwise Aayla won’t be able to sleep well tonight. She knows that Bly will take care of things, but she needs to verify their wellbeing for herself for her own peace of mind. Here on Coruscant they’re finally safe, and she has to remind herself of that somehow.

Though visiting Bly to check on the men isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If anything the thought makes some of her exhaustion leave her as she steps into the lift that will take her up to her Commander’s quarters. The journey upwards is smooth and quick. When the doors open on the correct floor, Aayla steps out and immediately finds one of her officers in the hallway, clad only in his blacks.

“General!” Captain Brine says in surprise, blue eyes widening. He snaps off a quick salute automatically. The effect is dampened slightly by the pillow he has tucked under his other arm. “What are you—oh. Looking for the Commander?”

Aayla nods. “Are you well, Captain?”

Brine shrugs.

“Well enough, sir. It’s a bit odd to not be on the ship, but the rooms are nice. Though the pillows leave a lot to be desired. I had to go find myself a new one.”

Aayla huffs out a tiny laugh.

“I’ll take your word for it, Brine. Could you direct me to Bly’s room?”

“The last one on the left, sir,” Brine answers without hesitation. He meets her gaze carefully, something unreadable flashing across his face. “He’ll try to keep working instead of getting some rest like he should. Maybe you can help him where I can’t.”

Aayla blinks at her Captain, but before she can fully make sense of the words Brine is already retreating towards his own room. He closes his door behind him, leaving Aayla alone in the hallway. She sighs and makes her way to the end of the hall until she stands in front of the very last door on the left.

It isn’t locked. The door slides open when she knocks lightly on the durasteel. She steps inside. The rooms that Brine had described as ‘nice’ are small and spartan in design. Nice is not the word Aayla would have used, but they’re a step up from the barracks to her men. There are three tiny spaces all hooked together—a small reception area, a tiny unused kitchen, and an even tinier bedroom. Aayla can see through the entire apartment.

Bly is nowhere in sight, although his armor is neatly stacked on the table in the little kitchen. Aayla hesitates for a moment, confused, until she notices the transperisteel door flung open against the far wall. Cream colored floor-length curtains hide the actual doorway from view. She makes her way through the apartment and pushes the curtains aside.

Coruscant is far too polluted for its inhabitants to see the stars that stretch above them through the smog. For some residents, the brilliant night is the closest they will ever get to seeing space around them. It is beautiful, in its own way. From the balcony of Bly’s window it seems as if he is poised on the edge of a glittering nebula, watching the colors swirl in hypnotic patterns and glitter quietly in the dark.

Bly is framed by the ambient light of the city. Aayla allows herself to just watch him for a nanosecond. She can’t see his face, but the light plays off of his tan skin in such a flattering way that she can’t avert her gaze. There’s a datapad in one of his hands. She raps lightly on the wall to alert him to her presence. He turns a little too fast, free hand jerking down to his side for a weapon that isn’t there right now. Once he’s seen her, he stiffens a little bit into a loose attention. One eyebrow raises slowly.

“General?”

Aayla doesn’t respond immediately, mostly because her brain stalls as she finally takes full stock of what he’s wearing.

He’s dressed in a loose white shirt with a low neckline that reveals his collarbone and the hint of a gold tattoo over his chest that disappears under the fabric. Her eyes pause on the smooth skin of his neck before she forces herself to drop her gaze—but that just makes things worse, because without the usual armor smoothing out the lines of his body she can see every muscle in his arms. His biceps are... impressive. She spends a moment just... drinking it in, because who knows if she’ll ever get to see this ever again. The tight black pants completing his outfit certainly don’t help her concentration.

Bly coughs suddenly. She glances back up to look him in the eyes. Now that she’s already thinking about such details, it’s hard to stop. The splashes of gold against the slant of his cheekbones is distinctly alluring. Aayla struggles to pull her thoughts out of the downward spiral and grimaces inwardly. She’s left him standing there for a heartbeat longer than necessary. She quirks one lek in a hasty greeting.

“At ease, Commander. I just wanted to ask you if the last of the reports have come in yet.” Aayla steps out onto the balcony to join him. She does, in fact, have the self-control necessary to keep her gaze from roving across his exposed skin this time, as tempting as it is.

Bly’s body language loosens. He leans against the railing again and taps at his datapad, scrolling through a list of reports. She can see tiny pinpricks of light reflected from the city skyline in his eyes. Aayla settles herself against the railing next to him as well, content to wait as he runs through his mental checklists.

She reaches out with the Force and grounds herself against his presence. It’s always bright and soothing and mellow to her in a way that she’s never felt before, not even among Jedi. She’s drawn to it. Today his mind is smooth, pulsing gently with peace and relief to finally be on leave. It’s rare that she gets to feel him in that state of mind. Bly is always concerned about something—about the men, about a campaign, about hyperspace routes, about shipping documents… about her.

Perhaps he thinks he is subtle, but Aayla sees far more than he realizes.

She notices when his gaze lingers on her, when he hesitates with his mouth hanging open as if he wants to speak before closing it and marching stiffly away. She notices when he bristles with anger and places himself between her and the foolish males that do not see the lightsaber in favor of inspecting her curves. She notices the fleeting smiles that cross his face when he thinks that she isn’t looking.

She wonders if he’s ever noticed the similar expressions that cross her own face.

There has been an odd tension in the Force lately. It’s a steady buzz, just present enough to nag at her as if ordering her to pay attention to something. It doubles whenever she speaks with her commander. Aayla thinks that she understands why now. Perhaps. Tonight is as good a night as any to either confirm or dispute her theory… if she is brave enough. If she is wise about how she approaches the subject.

It’s a risk, but it’s one that she’s willing to take. Determination floods her veins.

Bly sighs and looks up from the datapad with a nod of approval.

“I’ve got every report, sir. We’re good to go. I’ve even got the ship’s maintenance schedule here.” He grins wryly. “If only it were like this every time. The crew have sent all the records to me quicker than usual so that they can be off duty faster.”

Aayla chuckles.

“It would spare you a large amount of stress, at the very least,” she comments in amusement. Bly rolls his eyes.

“Force forbid,” he mutters. There’s something so easy about standing next to him, about the civilian clothing, about the casual conversation. Aayla feels a strange pang of jealousy. How easy would all of this be if they weren’t soldiers, if she were not a Jedi? She’s never doubted her purpose before, but Bly is the catalyst for many such thoughts.

Bly lifts his free hand to rub at his face. She glimpses a line of gold curling up his arm, disappearing into his sleeve. She reaches out to touch it without even thinking, brushing her fingers along the line and marvelling at how his something that should feel metallic and cold under her hand is warm and soft instead. She traces the tattoo higher, stopping just before she reaches the barrier of his sleeve. Part of her wants to follow it further. The thought abruptly makes her mouth go dry.

“It suits you,” Aayla tells him honestly. He freezes up. For an instant, she feels muscles bunching under his skin. She pulls her hand away quickly, afraid that she’s crossed a line, and reaches out with the Force to check if she’s offended him in any way. Perhaps the tattoo is in memory of a lost brother, or a hard battle that he hadn’t wanted to remember right now—

When she brushes Bly’s mind she finds it full of static. His thoughts are racing almost too fast for her to make sense of them. After a moment he seizes them and wrestles them into submission. He swallows once and nods at her politely.

“Thank you, sir,” he says. Calm, controlled. If she hadn’t glimpsed his thoughts she wouldn’t have known any better. But she does know, and the realization makes amusement and perhaps a hint of mischief course through her. If this is how he reacts to a simple compliment, she can’t imagine how he would be if she were to—

Force. Enough of that.

“Have the men gotten settled?” she asks quietly, retreating away from his mind for the time being. He straightens at the question, shoulders drawing back.

“Yes, sir. They’re alright.” Then he winces. “They’re… excited. We haven’t gotten a good amount of leave in a while. I was thinking of drafting an apology letter to Fox tonight, just in case.”

Aayla laughs.

“They deserve to have their fun,” she comments, leaning against the railing and staring out at the skyline in front of them. “We’ve had a busy few months.”

Bly drags in a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “They were getting tired. This will be good for them.”

“And for us,” Aayla adds. He hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She takes the opportunity to lean over him and pluck the datapad from his hand. A protest rises on his lips, but she shoots him a look, and he bites his tongue. “You deserve rest just as much as the rest of your men do, Commander.”

He nods in reluctant agreement, resting one elbow against the railing and slumping a little. He isn’t completely relaxed, but it’s more than he had been a few moments ago. Improvement.

Silence settles over them. It isn’t uncomfortable—on the contrary, it’s peaceful. A light breeze stirs through the air. Aayla glances up at her Commander, squaring her shoulders a bit. There is an opportunity here, a chance to act. She takes it.

“What would you like to do after the war, Bly?”

He blinks at her, taken aback. To be fair, she’s never asked him something like this before. During the heat and smoke and fire of a campaign she’d never felt as if it were an appropriate question to solicit. She watches him consider it. He glances down, picking at the loose white shirt as if suddenly unsure of himself.

“I’m not sure, sir,” he answers slowly. “I was created to be a soldier. I can’t really imagine myself doing anything else with my life. What… what would you like to do?”

Aayla hums.

“I suppose I will continue to be a Jedi. Though it will undoubtedly be strange. We’ve taken the roles of Generals so easily. Many will struggle to leave it behind.”

His expression flickers as something unreadable passes across his face.

“Will you?”

She falters.

Aayla will struggle. She already knows that, as surely as she knows that the sun will rise in the morning. Perhaps a few years ago that would have concerned her, but today she accepts it and wonders, not for the first time, if she even will want to leave it behind. Not for the power, not for the thrill of command, but for the men. For Bly.

The Council would be appalled to hear that. Quinlan Vos would be thrilled.

“I will not leave my men behind, even if the title of General is removed from me,” she tells Bly firmly. It’s so easy to be honest with him. It’s part of the reason why they work so well together. She sees something in Bly ease a little at her words.

“That’s good, sir,” he says. Without warning he tenses again, taking a shallow breath. “I don’t necessarily know what I want to do after the war, but I do know that it wouldn’t be worth my time if you weren’t there as well.”

Her heart stutters in her chest. He turns his face back to the skyline, as if immediately berating himself for the comment. Aayla resists the urge to reach out with the Force and find the true meaning of those words, to understand everything left unspoken there.

“In that case, I would welcome your company,” she responds quietly. Bly shifts his weight just a little. Some of the strain eases from his shoulders at her acceptance. His words hadn’t been an offer, not exactly, but it had been a bold statement—especially for Bly, who understands his priorities and selflessly resists the feelings that he so clearly wants to act upon. Aayla senses conflict in him, a constant battle between remaining stoic and throwing all caution to the wind.

It would be a lie to say that she did not feel the same thing.

There is a chain of command. There is a Jedi Code. There are rules, both dictated and not, that must be followed. In all her life she has never found herself wishing that it were not so until now.

Bly pulls away from the railing of the balcony, taking a step back. His tattoos gleam like liquid gold across his arms as he moves into a different light.

“I… I’ll get some rest then, General. You should too,” he suggests carefully. Too carefully. She is consistently impressed by his restraint. If it weren’t for his careful self-control she would have fallen a long time ago, but he balances her out perfectly in that as well as everything else. She doesn’t want him to leave yet.

She catches his arm as he tries to turn away with her own hand. Both of them freeze. Aayla looks down at her hand and is suddenly fascinated by the way the blue of her skin contrasts with the warm brown of his.

“Bly. Stay with me?”

She doesn’t have much right to ask that of him. It’s his room, after all. But Aayla doesn’t imagine the little tremor that runs through his body as he pulls his arm away. She lifts her head to meet his gaze and is stunned by the storm of conflict in his eyes.

“General… I don’t think…”

“Stay,” Aayla repeats softly. She ever-so-gently brushes at the edge of his mind again to make sure she isn’t pressuring him. She won’t force him into something he genuinely doesn’t want to do.

Bly’s mind is always so welcoming to her. She doesn’t even think that he’s aware of how readily it opens to her, of how easily it shares its secrets with her. For that reason she chooses to keep her distance for the most part, because she refuses to take advantage of him in that way. If she must reach for his thoughts, she keeps the connection as shallow as possible.

On occasions she’s seen his mind flare brilliantly when she’s nearby until he stuffs the light away under a grey shield of professionalism. She catches glimpses of it when he’s not being careful—when they’ve won a campaign and the men are celebrating in a fever, adrenaline and relief and the thrill of success spinning through the air. When she tells him that her recklessness had indeed been part of the plan and he only responds with an eye-roll and a fond chuckle. When he changes an entire battle strategy because she makes a single offhand comment about how she’s worried about destroying a beautiful forest.

Never once has she felt his mind grow heavy and dark with the sick lust that so many other men succumb to when she approaches. When desire does escape from the deeper recesses of Bly’s mind it is only visible for an instant as a bright flash of heat before he shuts it down without mercy. His respect for her is tangible even without a glance at his thoughts.

Right now, his mind is hesitant. She can sense that he wants to stay, but he is afraid as well. He’s worried for what he might do if he does remain, for what she might think, for what the men might say.

If only he could see into her mind. Aayla thinks a bit wryly that he wouldn’t be as afraid if he could feel her own thoughts on the matter.

“I would like it if you stayed,” she reiterates, just so that he understands that this isn’t an order, isn’t something that he’s required to accept. “Though you are welcome to get some rest if you wish.”

It’s a dangerous game that they’re playing. The attraction, the want, is mutual, otherwise it wouldn’t be as potent as it is. Aayla is tired of ignoring the bantha in the room. War takes and razes and tears down everything in its path. For once she wants to take something for herself.

Bly clenches his jaw and nods once.

“I’ll stay,” he acquiesces quietly. In the distance, faint police sirens become audible. Aayla can’t help a tiny smirk at the way Bly’s expression turns pained.

“There are millions of life-forms living nearby, Bly, I’m sure the men are fine. They probably don’t have anything to do with it,” she teases. He rolls his eyes.

“If I don’t get some sort of complaint in the morning I’ll be extremely surprised,” he grumbles. The grumpy amusement on his face is so utterly endearing that she steps forward without even thinking about it.

“Bly…”

His name comes out of her mouth with more warmth than she’d intended. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Aayla.”

She shivers. Her name rolls off of his tongue in the most delightful way. She draws a little closer to him, just enough to be intruding in his personal space. When he finally opens his eyes to look at her again she can see his defenses crashing down, crumbling as she reaches out to trace her fingers along the gold across his cheek.

He swallows hard as if bracing himself and reaches out a hand. His fingers brush against one of her lekku tentatively. She makes a soft noise of encouragement, and his touch grows a little more firm, sliding up to rest just at the junction of her skull. Aayla sighs. She leans forward and rests her forehead against his.

That makes him pause. His eyes go wide, as if he’s only just realizing what he’s doing. He jerks away from her so fast that she briefly loses her balance. The absence of his touch, as fleeting as it had been, makes her chest ache.

“Aayla, I—General. General, Force, this isn’t—I can’t. You have your—the Code, and the regs—”

Aayla exhales.

“And what if I wanted to choose, just for a moment, that they did not exist, Commander?” she asks him. “The time for hesitation is over. I will not sit in silence and wait until the war takes even you from me.”

Bly’s expression contorts. The edges of his Force presence go jagged.

“It isn’t that simple,” he forces out. “We could pretend all we want, but that wouldn’t change the rules.”

“Some would say that the rules are outdated,” Aayla counters. She feels a sharp flash of frustration. It’s tempting to let it stew and grow, but she does her best to let it go.

“That doesn’t matter, sir. We couldn’t ever… if anyone ever noticed, you would be stripped of both your rank and your title as a Jedi Master. I won’t be responsible for that.”

She mulls over his determined words with a sad fondness. He would give up everything he ever wanted just to keep her safe.

“Fortunately, you are not responsible for that,” she replies smoothly. “I am quite capable of making my own decisions. If I were to be expelled from the Jedi Order it would be because I chose that path.”

He stares her down, horrified. Then he narrows his eyes and sets his jaw.

“I would rather have you with me—with us, with the battalion—as a General and nothing more, than not have you at all.”

Aayla’s frustration comes back, stronger this time. She frowns at him.

“As I told you before, I will not leave my men behind, even if the title of General is removed from me. Nor will I leave my men behind if the title of Jedi is stripped from me. This is a risk that I am willing to take.”

Bly grimaces and tips his head back, sighing at the sky.

“Sir, regardless, I’m not—I’m not worth that risk. I’m a clone. This isn’t just inappropriate, it’s unfair to you, and I can’t—”

“That is not what I believe,” Aayla interrupts sharply. She feels just a jolt of anger, of outrage that he’s been conditioned to think like that. The emotion is difficult to banish. “You are worth far more to me than you could ever realize.”

He twitches and looks away fast. The rise and fall of his chest comes quicker now. His mind undulates with uncertainty and fear. The uncertainty is understandable, but the fear—that, she doesn’t understand. She steps close to him again and watches him tense, glancing at her as if worried of what she’ll do.

“What are you afraid of?” she asks in genuine surprise. She is just as new to this as he is, after all, and she wants answers. Bly lets out a stuttering breath.

“I don’t know,” he rasps. The words ring with honesty. An idea flits on the edge of Aayla’s mind. She reaches up to touch his temple. Despite everything, he leans into the touch.

“Let me see,” she requests. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares into her eyes. Ever so slowly, he dips his head in a small nod. Aayla closes her eyes.

When she reaches for his mind, his thoughts all but pull her inside. In an instant she’s deeper into his psyche than she’d originally meant to go. All of his emotions roll over her like a wave. She tries to pull away from them, but it’s too late, and she gets thrown into a whirlwind of sensation—

It’s overwhelming. The first thing to hit her is a tide of devotion so fierce that it feels like a firestorm against her own mind. A distinct longing is next, waxing and waning in strength as he struggles to keep it in check. Then there is a devastating clash of loyalty and restraint and desire and helplessness that makes her head spin.

In the center of it all, she sees herself.

It isn’t what she expects at all; isn’t even close to how she imagines herself in her own mind. She stands against an infinite stretch of darkness, lighting the way with her lightsaber outstretched as a brilliant blue beacon. She can sense Bly’s instinctual inclination to follow regardless of where she will lead—even if it means death, even if it means something worse. Through Bly’s eyes she is glorious and powerful and ethereal. Except then there is a sharp contrast, because she fights with all the vigor of a warrior but then she turns to look at him and everything goes soft and suddenly he is overcome by admiration and fondness and a hesitant, tentative love—

Aayla reels back. She struggles to stay above the sea of affection and desire and passion that follows after her doggedly, as if it can’t continue to exist without showing her everything now that she’s stumbled across it. She is jolted to reality. Both of her hands are curled tenderly around Bly’s skull. His eyes are squeezed shut.

She trails her gaze over his face. Aayla is flustered and panting. She had known that he feels something for her, but she’d never realized to what extent. His self-control is even more impressive now that she’s caught a glimpse of what he truly thinks.

“Bly—you—?”

He blinks his eyes open and immediately lowers them in shame.

That won’t do at all. Determination swells in her heart along with a strange sensation of desperation, because she’d known, but she’d never truly understood. He’d kept the full extent of his feelings carefully locked away, and when parts of it had escaped they had only implied a mere fraction of what was really going on inside his head.

She wants—needs—him to understand that it goes both ways.

When she enters his mind again, she lets Bly’s emotions wash around her instead of hitting her full force. She sinks deep, catching glimpses of memories and snippets of sound—

A battlefield shouldn’t be alluring, but with fire swirling around her and sparks drifting past them, she’s more glorious than anything else he could ever imagine.

He wishes that he could express the sensation that he feels whenever she looks at him like that, how his heart seems to swell three sizes and continue expanding until it’s all but bursting out of his chest.

Blue. Blue. Blue. He can’t get the color out of his head, can’t stop his eyes from trailing over her skin and noting all of her visible scars, can’t focus right even though he knows that he needs to concentrate.

She makes a bad call. Not even the best Generals are without fault. Brothers die. For all that he admires her she is still flawed, but somehow that doesn’t detract from how badly he wants her, from how much he cares. She is imperfect and scarred but he loves her all the more for it, for how she fights to become better with every breath she takes.

It’s raining. She looks happy. She looks at peace. Her eyes are bright. She’s beautiful. He wants to reach out and touch her. He aches because he can’t.

Nothing will ever come out of his feelings but he will content himself with the fleeting sensations of joy he finds when she presses her spine to his in the middle of a battle and fights with absolute certainty that he’ll be there to guard her back.

Jedi aren’t immortal and that has never been more obvious now. She is sick and miserable and tired. He convinces her to leave the bridge under his command for the day and go get some rest. When he drops by her room to update her on the Separatist’s movements she is sprawled out on her bunk, mouth hanging open and drooling. It is possible the most unflattering view of her that he’s ever seen. He hardly cares. He sits next to her anyway, a grin springing to his lips as she stirs and blinks up at him, surprised at his presence. There’s nowhere else that he’d rather be.

He hadn’t been created to love. Sometimes he wishes that he had been.

There. Hidden in that thought Aayla finds hints of darkness. She catches a hold of the trail of insecurity she had originally intended to follow and chases after it.

Chain of command aside, Jedi code aside, anything he feels for her is foolish. Bly is not unique, not special despite his rank. Even if there were no restrictions he has millions of brothers who all look the same, so why would she pay any attention to him at all?

He is Kaminoan property. There is no place for love in his purpose. He barely even understands the concept even though he knows the word. He couldn’t possibly offer her what she wants, isn’t worthy to even try. He’s just a clone, nothing more.

It hurts her to feel how deeply those thoughts are woven into his mind. She tugs at them carefully and feels him lurch. Somewhere in the real world she feels hands clutching at her shoulders, but she can’t focus on that right now.

She won’t be able to replace the thoughts, can’t destroy them as much as she would like to. Instead she presses her own thoughts over his, carefully so that he can sense every detail.

Gold is enthralling to her now. Her eyes get stuck on it automatically. She can only think of armor and tattoos and eyes and tan skin—and a steady presence beside her that she wouldn’t trade for the galaxy.

They are alone and desperate and fighting. Aayla pushes herself to move faster, to fight harder, to continue even though her limbs are shaking because she won’t let him die, not today. It would hurt more than anything to replace a battalion but it would tear her into pieces and leave her incapacitated to lose Bly.

It’s raining. She coaxes him to step into the open and tilt his head upwards. His Force presence goes still and calm as he stares up into the clouds above them. Raindrops settle in his hair like tiny glass orbs and scatter across the tattoos on his cheeks. She wants to reach out, she wants, she wants. She senses that he does too, but then he pulls away and she marvels at his control even though her chest contracts in disappointment.

He stands against a hailfire of blaster bolts, unshaken, grounding her along with the rest of his brothers, pistols blazing. She draws strength from his courage and pushes forward. She trusts him with her life. She knows with unshakable certainty that Bly will have her back.

It’s late. The hangar is empty except for them, seated on top of a LAAT with the hangar bay doors thrown wide open to show wide-open space above them. When she turns her head over to look at Bly she sees a wide-eyed awe on his face. He marvels at how different the stars look from here than on Kamino. His joy is tangible. Aayla only has eyes for him. She feels warm and happy and light in a way that she’s never felt before.

He smiles at her fondly and she feels faint suddenly, as if the single breathtaking, handsome, devoted expression is enough to stop her heart.

Love is dangerous because she is a Jedi. But she looks at him and decides that she doesn’t care.

Aayla lets him feel and see and understand every inch of her yearning, every ounce of her awe. His entire mind quakes under her touch. She feels the knot of darkness shiver and unravel a bit. She can’t get rid of it just yet. That will take time. She dares to hope that she’ll get the chance to try soon.

She comes back to herself. Bly’s hands are trembling on her shoulders. When she makes a soft noise of concern he wrenches them off of her and presses his fists against his sides.

“Aayla,” he groans, and he sounds absolutely wrecked. Like he’s seconds from falling apart. His eyes are bright and wide. They’re practically glowing in the dim lighting.

“I want you,” she tells him firmly, forcing every bit of blunt honesty into her voice as she can. She brushes her thumbs across his cheekbones and then lets her hands drop. “This is worth the risk to me, Bly. But it is up to you.”

She puts the choice in his hands and half expects him to turn away, to mull over everything he’s felt, to hesitate again.

He does not.

Instead, he makes a strangled sound, leans in, and presses his lips to hers.

It’s the last thing she’s expecting. She nearly stumbles as a result. His panic spikes into the Force until she grabs his shoulders and kisses him back.

The Force surges in a flare of heat and electricity around them. Bly exhales shakily against her. The brush of their lips is light and tentative. Aayla gathers herself, curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and deepening the kiss. Their mouths slant together. One of Bly’s hands finds her lekku again and strokes it gently. Her knees go weak underneath her at the pleasant sensation, at the feel of his mouth against hers.

When they break apart, Bly is gasping like he’s dying and can hardly believe his own audacity. Aayla feels heat crawling up her neck. She can’t stop panting either, and she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She’d hoped to get this far, to help him see that he’s worth it, that this is a risk that she’s willing to take, but she hadn’t expected any of that. This is unfamiliar to both of them.

“I—I didn’t—I—” Bly stammers out, and Aayla just blinks at him, because she isn’t doing much better.

Neither of them say anything for a long moment. Aayla can’t tear her gaze away from his face. He’s still so afraid, but she can see his mind weighing all of the options, struggling to make a final decision.

The pinprick of cold on her forearm makes her jerk. It’s followed by another on her lek, and then another on her forehead.

It’s raining.

Bly sucks in a sharp breath.

It rains once in a blue moon on Coruscant. It isn’t unheard of, but it isn’t common either. Aayla remembers a memory from a forest planet months ago, etched into both of their minds with striking clarity and sentiment. Slowly, Bly tilts his head back until he’s looking up into the sky.

She had shown him that. It sends a thrill down her spine to watch him remember, to feel his Force presence go from raging indecision to solidifying into careful determination.

The raindrops are growing bigger. She can hear them clattering against the balcony around her. A droplet splatters against her nose. She reaches out to brush the water away and goes still when Bly reaches for her hand, threading their fingers together as if he’s afraid that she’s going to change her mind.

“It’s worth the risk,” he whispers, like a prayer. She smiles at him. After a heartbeat, he returns it. “I want... I want you too.”

His words make Aayla feel giddy, like she’s soaring, light as a feather and free as the wind. The rain comes down around them. It would only take a few steps to enter the room and dry off but neither of them move.

She wants to kiss him again. The relief and elation she feels as she realizes that she actually can now is heady. His lips are still parted ever so slightly. When she leans in again, he meets her halfway.

It doesn’t matter that they’re going to get drenched. It doesn’t matter that there’s a chain of command or a Jedi code. It doesn’t matter that there’s a war going on and sometimes it’s safer to not get attached.

She focuses on Bly and finds peace in the rhythm of the rain. It’s worth the risk.

#fanfic #blyla #clone wars #Aayla Secura #commander bly #oh i'm so weak for them #wow jaymes congrats i'm addicted and it's your fault XD #writing

190 notes · View notes

seijch · 4 years

Text

➣ ushijima wakatoshi: a being capable of bringing entire armies to their knees, wielder of the severin cleaver, and the one whose appearance turns your world upside down.

ushijima wakatoshi + gender neutral!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

high fantasy au

1.2k

this fic is inspired by the video game xenoblade chronicles 2, but knowledge of that game is not needed to enjoy this fic :-)

You lived a simple life before Ushijima Wakatoshi.

It was a simple life, stitched together haphazardly with odd jobs and courier duty, but it was a simple life nonetheless. It's long days and hard work, sweat beading at your hairline; it's also all you know.

A trade ship has come to port, bringing with it goods and commodities the town can't supply on its own. The land was fertile, sure, but all your technology was imported from the faraway Mor Ardain. You were, as always, tasked with making sure everything got where it needed to go. This was easy. This was routine. You brace yourself (both mentally and physically) for the ache in your feet that's sure to come.

Thankfully, the day goes by rather quickly. You're on one of your last jobs, en route to the bakery, when you collide with a young man.

Your brain is on autopilot, steadying him while you set the crate of supplies on the ground, hoping this interaction won't throw off your momentum. "Oh," you say, on your knees to return the things that have spilled from his knapsack, "I'm sorry, let me help you-"

His warning comes a second too late: "Don't touch that!"

That: a glowing mauve gem you've just wrapped your hand around. It's a bit warm, if not heavier than it had looked.

The pleasant warmth turns into a surprising heat as the crystal lights up, so bright you shield your eyes with your free hand. When it subsides, there is a man standing before you.

Human men: comprised of flesh, bone, and certainly not rectangular gems set neatly into the junction between the base of their throat and their collarbone.

This is not a man, no matter how much he might resemble one. No, in front of you now is a blade, capable of bestowing upon their wielders — known as drivers — their power and (more importantly) their weapon. Any one of them could raise hell in the right hands, this much you know to be true. You've heard the legends of drivers felling the most fearsome of monsters. (You’d wanted to be a driver, once--but that was before reality had set in.)

"My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi." In his hands is a double-sided battleaxe so large it makes you look puny in comparison. "My power is yours." To demonstrate, he twirls the handle of the axe in one fluid motion before slamming a razor-sharp edge into the ground.

At the point of impact is what can only be called a miniature crater, displaced dirt flying everywhere.

A crowd has gathered; it's not very often a blade is awakened so publicly, let alone one so strong. And strong he is, he must be; his very aura tells you this blade, this...Ushijima, must be a cut (or two, maybe twenty) above the rest. By now, the routine you'd been so eager to follow has gone completely off the rails, a loose thread tugged on and undoing all the work you've done.

Ushijima, ignorant to your plight, offers the handle to you. His palms are face up as he does, open and ready. For a moment, there is silence in the bustling market. Everyone watches with bated breath for your next move.

The young man whose blade you'd just stolen decides to make it for you.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks, pointing an accusatory finger at you. "You summoned a blade from my core crystal!" He tries to claim Ushijima for himself, wrapping both hands around the axe handle.

It doesn't work. He caves under its weight, knees hitting the ground almost instantly. Ushijima picks the axe up as though it were a toothpick. "You are not my driver." Coming from his mouth, it sounds irrefutable. You're sure the actual driver with actual experience would be a better fit for all this than you, but you keep your mouth shut.

He offers the weapon to you once more. "If you'll have me, I assure you that all who dare oppose us will be shown no mercy."

Drivers were powerful. They were also stupid. Who willingly throws themselves in the face of death in the hopes that they come out on top?

You lived a simple life before Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You'll live a simple life after him, too.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, picking the crate back up. "I don't think I'm what you're looking for."

And you walk away.

(You weren't cut out for a life on the road, of odd jobs more dangerous than the deliveries and repairs you were accustomed to. Your head was in the clouds when you thought you could make a living as a driver. As harsh as the ground beneath you might feel, coming down from those lofty dreams is a much better fate than being eaten by some hostile creature.)

What you don't expect is for him to follow, to take the supplies in his hands in an act of service. "I'm afraid I don't understand. You are worthy. You would not have survived my awakening if you were not." That much is true; you've heard horror stories of weak bodies attempting to summon strong blades. It never ends well, often with month-long migraines or worse yet, bodies gone still and pulses long gone.

"Whatever crime-fighting, monster-killing life you expect from me isn't going to happen. I'm no driver. I have a hard enough time as it is." You take the crate back. "You can find someone else."

"...I can't.”

“Huh?”

“Blades cannot switch drivers, not without a crystal that very few have ever come across." He tries to reclaim the crate, but you swivel out of the way. (It ends up in his arms anyway. You don't know what to do, fingers twitching now that there's nothing to hold.)

"I will not push the issue further, but let me say this: there is potential in you to become strong, whether you realize it or not." He speaks with enough conviction to make your head spin. To him, this is fact. To you, this is a compliment beyond compare. "They call people like you diamonds in the rough. I will leave the choice of polishing it up to you."

You don't say anything, but you don't need to. Ushijima's words have wormed their way into your head, taken root in the recesses of your brain. You finish your deliveries. (News travels fast; everyone is well aware of who your newfound companion is.) The only thing left on your checklist is to figure out what to do with the blade that’s walked alongside you without complaint.

You lived a simple life before Ushijima Wakatoshi.

But when you take the axe in your hands under the light of the dying sun, it feels so right that you wonder if this serendipitous set of circumstances may have been preordained after all. You feel...worthy.

You lift it, bringing it down in a hefty swing. (It takes a bit of effort to avoid slicing your foot clean off.) You're not sure if it's just a trick of the light, but you swear you see the corners of his mouth quirk up when you do.

Your simple life was stitched together, fraying at the seams as you tried to make ends meet. Ushijima's arrival brings with it an entirely new fabric, a second chance to weave the tapestry of life into something worth living.

A question: when you return the axe to him, he lets it sit on his open palms, face up and open once again.

An answer: you wrap your fingers against the handle once more, meeting his gaze head-on.

Life was never meant to be simple, anyway.

87 notes · View notes

chwetuan · 4 years

Text

+ the baker, the bun ; yugyeom

+ read this & this | pregnancy!au | husband!yug

+ gender reveal shenanigans, markbam crackhead dynamics, all that good stuff

+ category: one-shot | genre: it’s literally just fluff

+ requested by @geminimess

Yugyeom feels like he’s going to pass out. Not because he’s outside in the 90 degree weather of the summer, but because you’re glaring at him with such hatred that he’s truly beginning to wonder if he’s called you his wife for the last two years.

The cap on his head does nothing to stop the way the heat creeps up his spine. His eyes are trained on you — so pregnant, ankles swollen, cheeks flushed pink and sipping on a red Gatorade because it’s “the closest thing” to a cocktail you can get your hands on.

Yugyeom’s heard it from all his friends and coworkers — how women seem to glow when they’re pregnant. And to an extent, it’s true — your face seemed to be beaming with life, cheeks full and pretty when you smiled. But more often than not, he swears on his life, you don’t glow like an angel. Rather, you glow red like satan’s right-hand man, coupled with a sharp tongue and a newfound-wit about you.

You wore pregnancy like armor — literally, always in defense mode and ready to chew his, or anyones, head off at the smallest inconvenience.

But he takes the hits and rolls with the punches, because at the end of the day, you were easy to talk down.

You’d grown impossibly sweet, calmed by simple kisses and the sound of his voice when it seemed like you were on the brink of exploding with rage or annoyance. On most days, you were fussy at best, only needing the bare minimum of a hug and some peanut butter to keep you satisfied.

But right now, there’s something he can’t place his finger on.

It feels like a guessing game — he isn’t sure why you’re glaring at him, or what he’s done to warrant such a look of venom, but mentally, he’s going through a checklist of what he could’ve possibly done to piss you off.

You’re reclined on one of the lounger-chairs in your tiny backyard, your dad next to you. He’s peeling a tangerine and singing along to whatever 80s throwback he’s decided to play. Yugyeom has no clue why your sister employed your insane father with the task of setting the playlist for your gender reveal, but he’s known your family too long to ask questions when it came to delegation. The old man wears the same blue tinted bifocals, but instead of his usual button down Hawaiian shirt, he wears a white tee that with bold lettering that reads “grandpa” across the front.

“Dude, you look like you’re going to pass out.”

At the sound Mark’s voice, Yugyeom is snapped out of his daydream.

“These lemon squares are simply exquisite.” Bambam buts in, squeezing his way in to stand between the two men.

You’ve finally mastered the recipe, after all.

Mark stares at him for two beats before facing Yugyeom. “For real, are you okay?”

Yugyeom nods, taking a sip from his water bottle. “I’m fine. Just. Gender reveal, you know?”

Again, Bambam buts in. “______ looks like she’s going to kill me. Or you. She’s staring in this general direction and I can’t really tell.”

He knows you’re staring. You’ve been doing so for the last 15 minutes and he hasn’t decided on his approach yet.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sister enter the backyard with a white cake box in hand, resting it on one of the many, many, many (really, the table to guest ratio is absurd), food tables that crowd the space.

It’s then you motion Yugyeom over, brows angled inward and a huff leaving your chest.

Your hands are grabby when you reach for him, and his arms are around you as he helps you up from the seat. He stares at you a few seconds before brushing your bangs from your face and planting a soft kiss on your forehead. It’s only then that the crease in your brow disappears, your face relaxing into a happy smile. It’s simple.

“The spawn won’t stop kicking.”

He laughs, loud and open, palms falling to your rounded stomach. “When are you gonna stop calling our baby a spawn?”

“When I find out whether or not it’s a female or male spawn. Maybe then I’ll think about a different name.”

You look around at your friends and family that have began to gather around the tables, all wearing various shades of blue and pink — in competition with each other placing bets on whether or not it’s a boy or a girl.

After a few more minutes spent talking with them, Yugyeom asks —

“Are you ready to cut the cake?”

“I swear to god if I have to listen to one more joke about how I’m now literally a baker, I’m going to kick everyone out and then retire.”

~~~

Stood in front of the people closest to you, you and Yugyeom both grip the knife, prepared to cut into the frosted white cake that sits before you. He doesn’t know why there’s so much tension in the air — but everyone is excited, holding their breath and waiting to see what color the slice of cake is.

“Ready?” You ask and he nods.

When the knife parts the frosting, you can feel the excitement buzzing through the air as your friends and relatives watch on.

Jackson stands next to you, watching intensely as the first slice is plated. He looks like he’’ll burst into tears at any second.

“Boy! Boy! It’s a boy!” Exclaims your dad, face breaking into a smile as guests begin to cheer.

“Oh my god, oh my god.”

Yugyeom is speechless, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you what feels to be a thousand times.

But within a few seconds, the cheers are replaced by silence as you stare at your sister, who’s approaching the table with a second cake, in confusion.

Now, Yugyeom really feels like he’s going to pass out.

With Jackson’s help, she places the second cake on the table in front of you. “Uh, surprise?”

On the sidelines, Bambam whispers to Mark. “It’s fucking twins! You owe me ten bucks.”

“I’m not paying you shit! I-“

“I knew I was right!”

Mark shoves him, just enough to have the younger man tripping over his feet and repositioning himself.

“Shut up! It was a joke, you weren’t even being serious.”

“It’s a girl!” Your sister yells, and the two men turn their attention back to you and Yugyeom.

“Now, you owe me ten bucks.” Mark quips, clapping and cheering alongside the rest of your friends and family.

“It’s two spawns! You knocked me up with two spawns?” You exclaim, shoving a mouthful of cake into Yugyeom’s mouth as he tries his best to keep his composure.

Your house is empty now, and it’s just you and him standing in your kitchen going in on what’s left of the cakes from earlier.

He knows you’re joking, you haven’t stopped smiling since your sister brought the second cake out.

Whether it be chance laying out the cards or a higher power sketching the timeline of events, he feels blessed, to have you in his life.

To have you as his wife, the soon-to-be mother of his children, to have you as his best friend.

You beckon him closer to you once more, pulling him into a kiss that tastes like frosting and the epitome of happiness.

(written july 4th - posted & edited july 5th)

#cute if i say so myself #yugyeom x reader #got7 reactions #got7 fluff #got7 scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #got7 drabbles #kpop drabbles

126 notes · View notes

barbaracleboy · 3 years

Text

Bugtober Day 14: Crystals

Might be my favorite submission thus far, if only for the writing!

Team Mega Tanker weren't the type of explorers that explored in the hopes of finding and helping those that need it, nor did they explore out of some sense of adventure, nor did they explore to fill out some checklist of quests. Team Mega Tanker liked money, and they explored in the hopes of earning it, in one way or another. Right now they were going through a cave, searching around for anything valuable they could potentially sell...weren't having a luck at the moment, though.

Nitro: UGGHHHHHHHH, Titan, this is stupid: we are wandering aimlessly through a cave with NOTHING but mushrooms in it.

Titan: Glowing mushrooms, those are more valuable.

Nitro: What are we even in here for?

Titan: To find treasure, Nitro, duh. Not all of us are as lazy as you are.

Nitro: Why would some random cave have treasure in it, Titan?

Titan: Because every cave has treasure, of course.

Nitro: No, most caves have monsters and mushrooms in them.

Titan: Well, all the best caves have treasure.

Nitro: Yeah, but how do we-(Titan bonks him on the head) YOW!

Titan: Are you good at anything but whining?...(Nitro pokes him in the eye) OUCH! WHY, YOU!!!

Titan begins chasing Nitro through the cave, as Nitro realizes that the small satisfaction of harming Titan may not have been worth it. It's dark, and the mushrooms only light the way so much, so the two stumble a bit as they run, and Nitro in particular fails to notice the little red stone that is in front of him. He trips over it, and Titan trips over him, sending the latter crashing into a nearby wall. This causes a few rocks to fall, but luckily for Nitro none land on him.

Nitro: Owww, you nearly crushed me, you big oaf!

Titan: Hey, klutz, you tripped first!

Nitro: Tripped over...wait, what is this?

Nitro picks up the stone that made him fall, and observes it for a few moments. The darkness of the cave makes it difficult to tell exactly, but Nitro makes out that the rock is red and a little shiny. He gasps upon realizing what he has in his hands.

Nitro: Do you realize what I have in my hands???

Titan: Nah.

Nitro: It's a Crystal! Not like your lousy, fake gemstones, a real, genuine Crystal! In the wild! Outside of any legal jurisdiction that can potentially prohibit its collection and/or commerce!

Titan: Using words I don't know doesn't make you smarter than me.

Nitro: And its red! Blue Crystals are everywhere, and Yellow Crystals eventually become Blue Crystals, but Red Crystals are among the rarest!!! We can make a fortune off of this, we'll make bank!

Titan: How much are we talkin', three Berries?

Nitro: Wha-more than that!

Titan:...Four Berries?

Nitro: No, lummox. Try dozens. Or hundreds. Maybe even a thousand, at least! Some bugs would eat each other for this type of thing!

Titan: Is that that big a deal? I've eaten a Midge before.

Nitro: Use your head for once! We will make money off of this! Big money, I say!

Titan: Big money???

Nitro: Think about what we can do with it! We can get crazy new gadgets!

Titan: We can get the coolest clothes!

Nitro: We can get all the cake we can stomach!

Titan: We can get our own arcade machines!

Nitro: We can get women!

Titan: But I'm gay.

Nitro: Then you can get men!

Titan: Hell yeah!!!

Nitro puts down the Crystal for a bit and grabs Titan by the hand before the two of them do a little jig.

Nitro and Titan: ♪We're ri-ich! We're re-ich! We're very, very ri-ich! We're ri-ich! We're ri-ich! We're very, very-♪

Their song and dance is interrupted by the sound of pained groaning. In fear, Nitro jumps onto Titan's head and quivers.

Nitro: W-w-w-what was that!?

Titan: Why are you asking me like I know?

The two of them look around for the voice's origin before spotting a prone Moth next to a lantern, a little below where they were standing. They groan themselves when they realize they'll probably have to help him out.

Nitro: Are we sure it came from that guy? Maybe it was something else and he's just dead.

Titan: Maybe. (To the Moth) HEY! ARE YOU DEAD!!?!?

Nitro: SHSHHSHSHHSHSH! Firstly, do not scream in a cave that could have monsters in it! Secondly, the dead can't reply! You utter moron!

Titan: Here, lemme try something.

Titan kicks the Crystal down, where it lands on the Moth's head.

Moth: (Weakly) Owwwwww...

Nitro:...Why the hell would you do that?! Now we have to go down there!

Titan: Oh, did you have a better way of getting a response?

Nitro: There are, like, a thousand-(Titan jumps down)-wha-don't run from me, you wuss!

The duo land a few steps away from the moth and move to pick up their crystal when Nitro has another realization.

Nitro: Wait, Titan! If we save that guy we can probably get paid even more!

Titan: How much?

Nitro: I dunno, but what if he's rich!

Titan: Very, very rich?

Nitro: What if he adds an extra thirty berries, at least, to whatever we make from the crystal?

Titan: Thirty-four Berries?!

Nitro: I'm stunned you can count that high!

The duo grab their Crystal and quickly rush on over to help the fallen bug.

Team Mega Tanker: How can we help you, good sir?

Moth: Wh-who are you?...

Nitro: Well, I'm Nitro!

Titan: And this is my sidekick, Nitro!

Nitro:...And this guy's Titan.

Titan: Wait...

Nitro: We're Team Mega Tanker, Arthrope's finest exploration, dedicated to rescuing good folks like you!

Moth: Ughh...my head hurts...and my legs...I think I sprained an ankle...I probably can't walk...

Titan: Well, you could try.

Nitro: (Smacks Titan's Shoulder) Will you shut-...oooowwwww...

Moth: I-I came because I was searching for something my daughter made...a Weevil nabbed it and ran in here...I tried to come after it but then I fell...I know she'll be disappointed if I don't bring it back, but I'll die if I stay here any longer...

Nitro: So you want my big, strong, buddy Titan to help you out, huh?

Titan: B-b-big? Strong? D'aww, Nitro...

Nitro: Shut up...

Moth: I-if you two can help me, I'll be indebted to you...

Titan: Oohoohoo, I love the word "debt"!

Nitro: I SAID SHUT UP...Let Titan pick you up, friend, and I'll grab your lantern to lead us three outta here.

Titan: (Hands the Moth the Crystal) Hold this, will ya? (Picks the Moth up) Upsy-daisy!

Moth: Wait a minute...i-is-

Titan: So, which way out, shorty?

Nitro: Uhh, well we can go East or West. We came from the East, so that might be the obvious direction to go in...but the obvious answer is rarely the best one, so let's go West.

So they do, finding little interesting on the way. There is a distinct lack of mushrooms to guide the group, but between the crystal and the Moth's lantern they don't have much trouble with light. After a while of walking, and seemingly no sign of an exit, they begin to grow weary.

Titan: Dang it, Nitro, why didn't we just go East?...

Nitro: I know what I'm doing, Titan, be quiet...

Moth: W-w-w-wait! Look...

He points to small pile of fluff and pieces, belonging to a Weevil that is most certainly dead at this point.

Nitro: R-r-r-r-remains?

Titan: Remains of what?

Before Nitro could berate Titan, the trio hear a growling from in front of them. From the shadows crawls out a huge Centipede, with an angry look on its face and a bruise on its forehead. It just stands for a little, and Titan starts to growl right back at it.

Moth: Wh-what are you doing???

Titan: I'm trying to scare it off! I know I'm way scarier than this creep is, wouldn't you-where's Nitro? Wait, why's it so dark now?

Nitro had run off, lantern still in hand. Titan clumsily gives chase, the Moth still in his hands as the Crystal is in the Moth's hands.

Nitro: I DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT GETTING PAID, I JUST WANNA LIVE!!!

Titan: GET BACK HERE SO I CAN POUND YOU AND FEED YOU TO THIS CENTIPEDE!

Moth: WHY!?!?!?!?!

The Centipede is itself giving chase, and it roars as it does so. In annoyance, Titan chucks the Moth at its face, stunning it for a moment.

Titan: Shut your trap, ya big freak!

Nitro: Titan, did you just throw the Crystal at it?!

Titan: Uhhh, maybe?

Titan runs on over to the Moth and tries to pick him and the Crystal back up, but the Centipede tries to take a bite out of Titan.

Moth: OH GODS!!!!!

Titan: Eh, it's fine. I'm tough as nails! (To the Centipede) Ya hear that, pally? Your teeth ain't got-EWWWW, IT'S GOT POISON!

Nitro: Poison, that's it!

Nitro pulls out one of his many bombs and chucks it at one of the Centipede's eyes. It explodes in a cloud of noxious gas and the creature releases Titan in pain, allowing him to carry the Moth back to Nitro as they both cough and sputter. The group starts running again as the teary-eyed Centipede chases once more.

Nitro: Look! An exit!

Titan: Freedom!!!

They escape the cave, but the Centipede still right behind them. Nitro takes a second to think, before quickly pulling out another bomb. He puts this one right under Titan, and it makes a fiery explosion that causes him to drop the Moth while also launching him up and into the roof of the cave's mouth. This cause some more of the rocks within to fall, crushing the Centipede and blocking the cave's entrance.

Titan: Owww, my butt...

Nitro: Well, hey, least we got the Crystal and the guy! (To the Moth) You're welcome, by the way, no thanks are necessary.

Moth: FUCK YOU!!!

Titan: Wha-hey, we saved your life!

Moth: I was in far more danger with you psychopaths than without you!!!

Nitro: Whatever, dude, just give us back our Crystal and we'll come back to you for the money you owe in, like, a week or something.

Moth: Crystal??? This is a rock covered in red glitter!!!!

Nitro and Titan: What.

Moth: This is the thing my daughter made! The thing that the Weevil nabbed!

The three bugs just stand in awkward silence for a good few minutes. Eventually Titan breaks the silence with a question.

Titan: Sooooooo, can you pay us for get-

Moth: STAY AWAY FROM ME!!!

The Moth limps away, holding his daughter's decorated rock as he grumbles about the duo and how he should consider moving to Bugaria. Meanwhile, Team Mega Tanker just stand dumbfounded for a little before glaring at each other.

Nitro: How could you not tell it was just a stupid rock!?!?

Titan: You were the one that called it a Crystal!!!

Nitro: Yeah, but it was dark!

Titan: You had the damn lantern!

Nitro: I didn't have the rock when I had the lantern!!!

The two of them kept arguing for a while, not paying attention to anything but each other...believe it or not, this was not the first time a mission had gone exactly like this...and it wouldn't be the last either...

#bug fables #bftoo #oc #bugtober #titan #nitro #they were originally supposed to be holding hands and jumping for joy in the drawing #but I didn't want to draw that lmao rip #blurb #writing

4 notes · View notes