#my first attempt at combining 2 gifs into 1

[ace-of-spaders]

What better place to build our home than on an eternal summer day?

#once upon a time #ouat #rumplestiltskin #robert carlyle #belle french #belle gold #emilie de ravin #rumbelle #my gifs #my creations #ouat 7x04 #I just needed to a gifset of Rumbelle being blissfully happy in their cozy little house #so I made it 😁 #also #my first attempt at combining 2 gifs into 1 #what do you think?

[anyataylorjoys]

Someone asked me how I created the fade transition in this gifset which I’ll try to explain in the most comprehensive way that I can. If you've never done something like this before, I suggest reading through the full tutorial before attempting it so you know what you'll need to plan for.

To follow, you should have:

basic knowledge of how to make gifs in photoshop

some familiarity with the concept of how keyframes work

patience

Difficulty level: Moderate/advanced

Prep + overview

First and foremost, make the two gifs you'll be using. Both will need to have about the same amount of frames.

For ref the gif in my example is 540x540.

I recommend around 60-70 frames max total for a big gif, which can be pushing it if both are in color, then I would aim for 50-60. My gif has a total of 74 frames which I finessed using lossy and this will be explained in Part 4.

⚠️ IMPORTANT: when overlaying two or more gifs and when using key frames, you MUST set your frame delay to 0.03 fps for each gif, which can be changed to 0.05 fps or anything else that you want after converting the combined canvas back into frames. But both gifs have to be set to 0.03 before you convert them to timeline to avoid duplicated frames that don't match up, resulting in an unpleasantly choppy finish.

Part 1: Getting Started

Drag one of your gifs onto the other so they're both on the same canvas.

The gif that your canvas is fading FROM (Gif 1) should be on top of the gif it is fading INTO (Gif 2).

And here's a visual of the order in which your layers should appear by the end of this tutorial, so you know what you're working toward achieving:

Part 2: Creating the grid

Go to: View > Guides > New guide layout

I chose 5 columns and 5 rows to get the result of 25 squares.

The more rows and columns you choose, the more work you'll have to do, and the faster your squares will have to fade out so keep that in mind. I wouldn't recommend any more than 25 squares for this type of transition.

To save time, duplicate the line you've created 3 more times, or as many times as needed (key shortcut: CMD +J) and move each one to align with the guides both horizontally and vertically. You won't need to recreate the lines on the edges of the canvas, only the ones that will show.

After you complete this step, you will no longer need the guides so you can go back in and clear them.

Follow the same duplicating process for the squares with the rectangle tool using the lines you've created.

Align the squares inside the grid lines. The squares should not overlap the lines but fit precisely inside them.

This might take a few tries for each because although to the eye, the squares look all exactly the same size, you'll notice that if you try to use the same duplicated square for every single one without alterations, many of them will be a few pixels off and you'll have to transform the paths to fit.

To do this go to edit > transform path and hold down the command key with the control key as you move one edge to fill the space.

Once you're done, put all the squares in their separate group, which needs to be sandwiched between Gif 1 and Gif 2.

Right click Gif 1 and choose "create clipping mask" from the drop down to mask it to the squares group. This step is super important.

After this point, I also took the opacity of the line groups down to about 40% so the lines wouldn't be so bold. Doing this revealed some squares that needed fixing so even if you aren't going dim the lines, I recommend clicking off the visibility of the lines for a moment to make sure everything is covered properly.

Part 3A: Prep For Key framing

I wanted my squares to fade out in a random-like fashion and if you want the same effect, you will have to decide which squares you want to fade out first, or reversely, which parts of Gif 2 you want to be revealed first.

In order to see what's going on underneath, I made Gif 1 invisible and turned down the opacity of the squares group.

If you want text underneath to be revealed when the squares fade away, I would add that now, and place the text group above Gif 2, but under the squares group.

Make a mental note that where your text is placed and the order in which it will be revealed is also something you will have to plan for.

With the move tool, click on the first square you want to fade out. Every time you click on a square, it will reveal itself in your layers.

I chose A3 to be the first square to fade and I'm gonna move this one to the very top of all the other square layers.

So if I click on D2 next, that layer would need to be moved under the A3 layer and so on. You'll go back and forth between doing this and adding key frames to each one. As you go along, it's crucial that you put them in order from top to bottom and highly suggested that you rename the layers (numerically for example) which will make it easier to see where you've left off as your dragging the layers into place.

Part 3B: Adding the Keyframes

This is where we enter the gates of hell things become tedious.

Open up the squares group in the timeline panel so you can see all the clips.

Here is my example of the general pattern that's followed and its corresponding layers of what you want to achieve when you're finished:

So let’s try it!

Expand the control time magnification all the way to the right so you can see every frame per second.

As shown in Part 3A, select your first chosen square.

Where you place the time-indicator on the panel will indicate the placement of the keyframe. Click on the clock next to opacity to place your first keyframe.

Move the time-indicator over 3 frames and place the next key frame.

Things to consider before moving forward:

Where you place your very first keyframe will be detrimental. If you're using a lot of squares like I did, you may have to start the transition sooner than preferred.

If you're doing 25 squares, the key frames will have to be more condensed which means more overlapping because more frames are required to finish the transition, verses if you're only using a 9-squared grid. See Part 4 for more detailed examples of this.

The opacity will remain at 100% for every initial key frame, and the second one will be at 0%.

Instead of creating two keyframes like this and changing the opacities for every single clip, you can copy the keyframes and paste them onto the other clips by click-dragging your mouse over both of them and they'll both turn yellow. Then right click one of the keyframes and hit copy.

Now drop down to your next clip, move your time-indicator if necessary to the spot where the first keyframe will start and click the clock to create one. Then right click it and hit "paste".

Tip: When you have both keyframes selected, you can also move them side to side by click-dragging one of them while both are highlighted.

Your full repetitive process in steps will go as follows:

click on square of choice on the canvas

drag that square layer to the top under the last renamed

in timeline panel: drop down to next clip, move time-indicator tick to your chosen spot for the next keyframe

create new keyframe

right click new keyframe & paste copied keyframes

repeat until you've done this with every square in the group

Now you can change the opacity of your squares layer group back to 100% and turn on the visibility of Gif 1. Then hit play to see the magic happen.

PART 4: Finished examples

Example 1

the transition starts too soon Cause: initial keyframe was placed at frame 0

the squares fade away too quickly Cause: overlapping keyframes, seen below. (this may be the ideal way to go with more squares, but for only 9, it's too fast)

Example 2

more frame time for first gif

transition wraps up at a good point Cause: in this instance, the first keyframe was placed 9 frames in, and the keyframes are not overlapping. The sequential pair starts where the last pair ended, creating a slower fade of each square.

Part 5: Final Tips and Saving

You can dl my save action here which will convert everything back into frames, change the frame rate to 0.05 and open the export window so you can see the size of the gif immediately.

If it's over 10gb, one way to finesse this is by use of lossy. By definition, lossy “compresses by removing background data” and therefore quality can be lost when pushed too far. But for most gifs, I have not noticed a deterioration in quality at all when saving with lossy until you start getting into 15-20 or higher, then it will start eating away at your gif so keep it minimal.

If you've done this and your gif is losing a noticeable amount of quality and you still haven’t gotten it below 10gb, you will have no choice but to start deleting frames.

When it comes to transitions like this one, sometimes you can't spare a single frame and if this is the case, you will have to return to the timeline state in your history and condense the key frames to fade out quicker so you can shorten the gif. You should always save a history point before converting so you have a bookmark to go back to in case this happens.

That's pretty much it, free to shoot me an ask on here or on @jugheadjones with any questions.

#gif tutorial #photoshop tutorial #transition tutorial #grid tutorial #usergif #ps help #tutorials #tutorials* #requested

[swiss-mrs]

You were asking for ideas about a future Sy fiction & an idea just popped into my head about “Shy Sy” & the “Karaoke Cowgirl”. Now, there’s NO WAY I could ever compare to your writing skills…but say Shy Sy calls & asks her for a date, she agrees, but everything goes horribly wrong……he spills beer all over her, clumsily trips over his own 2 feet, his truck gets a flat ( there is no spare tire), so they sit alone in the truck having the most fun conversation & maybe with a little cuddling to keep her warm?!?! (She only has a skimpy sundress on). As they casually talk, Sy becomes much more relaxed & finds her just adorably perfect?!?!

sorry this took so long. I have been going through some crazy writer's block. I think I got everything minus the beer😅 thank you for your support! hope you like this!💕

Your Shotgun Rider

Read Black Velvet (Pt. 1)

Word Count:

Warnings: Series of Unfortunate Events (First Date Edition), Adult Language, Some Suggestive Themes (No Smut), Petnames (darling and pumpkin), Reader is Able to Fit in One of Sy's Jackets.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing (The vibes: one two three four), No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Height, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "Girl"/"Pretty Girl" and "Little Lady"

Synopsis: After your meet-cute at the bar over the weekend, Sy gets you to go out on a proper date with him. Unfortunately, everything seems to be going wrong.

--💕👢💕--

It's time. Sy looked at the watch on his wrist and breathed out a heavy sigh. "God damnit!" He hits the steering wheel in a weak attempt to release some built-up tension. This was the 5th time he'd tried turning the ignition over to no avail. He was running good on time, thirty minutes early, to be exact, before he came out to his truck to try and head over to pick you up. Only to be cockblocked by his own damn pickup.

The last time he recalled, the thing was running smoothly. What in the hell changed?! He leans back in the driver's seat and drags his hands down his face in frustration, letting out a deep groan. His hands drop to his lap with a smack. With his eyes closed, he begins praying. "Please, to the powers that be, please let this God forsaken truck start so I can go see this girl." Without much hope, he opens his eyes and leans forward again to twist the keys again. Surprisingly, the engine roared to life.

Sy lets out a deep sigh of relief, closing his eyes and allowing his body to collapse slightly, forehead resting on the wheel. He lets out a chuckle in disbelief. "Thank you." He leans back up and shifts the truck into drive to head over to the address you'd given him when setting up your date over the phone.

Thankfully, you didn't live far. Your new apartment building was less than 15 minutes away from his house. He lived more on the outskirts of town as opposed to your apartment closer to the town center. He reckoned that if he pushed the speed limit, he could make it in there in 10. This was his town, after all. He knew the streets to avoid to be able to safely cut time.

Sy hated running late, much more now than ever. He didn't want to miss this opportunity. This was his first official outing with you. He had to make a good impression.

As he drove, all he could think about was you. Your laugh, your voice. Since you'd met two weeks ago, you two had built a strange little bond. You've gotten to the point where you can talk to each other like old friends, though all of it has been only over the phone.

You were extremely busy with basically zero down time. The combination of adjusting to your new job, apartment hunting, and now moving, you couldn't find time to do anything but work, sleep, eat, pack, and move. In between, you'd have your phone glued to your ear with Sy on the other end of the line.

Every time you talked, Sy could practically hear the stress and tension in your shoulders from carrying the weight of everything happening. He'd offered to help you move, but you turned him down, insisting you had more than enough help. Plus, you were moving things slowly, and didn't want to have him just drop everything he was doing at your beck and call just to move boxes. He never said it aloud, but he would be more than willing to be on standby for you.

Due to everything going on, Sy had made it his mission to make the little time you had together over the phone pleasant. Thankfully, you got his humor, so making you laugh was never a hard task. It hasn't been a day since he last spoke to you, but he already missed your laugh. Every time it came through the line, the image of your smiling face at the bar would pop up. Every time, without fail. It would always bring a smile to his own face.

The realization of him finally getting to see you in person again hit him hard when he finally reaches the street you live on. It's been two weeks. TWO WEEKS. He hoped you didn't forget what he looked like. Your image is engraved in his brain, one of his sweetest memories. That's when he spots you standing at the base of the stairs, just outside your apartment building. Somehow, his heartbeat both doubled in rate and stopped completely at the sight of you.

You're wearing a white dress that stopped mid-thigh. The skirt of your dress was light and flowy while the upper half was fitted to your frame, hugging you in all the right places. On your feet was a pair for dark brown cowboy boots. You looked utterly adorable and equally sexy. Sy found his eyes trailing along the skin of your exposed legs.

Sy pulled up to the curb, throwing the truck in park, and hoping out the driver's side to walk over to the passenger door, near the sidewalk.

As soon as he hopped out, your face lit up like the morning sun, eyes widening and face breaking out in a big smile. You wave at him and immediately start to speed walk over to him. Your sheer excitement made his heart warm. At least you were happy to see him, and in fact, did not forget what he looked like, as if you ever could. You fight the urge to run and jump into his strong arms.

"Sorry I'm late, darlin'." He blurts before you can get a word out. You're obviously taken aback by the apology. You scrunch your eyebrows and pout, tilting your head.

"Late?" You pull out your cellphone from your hidden pocket, clicking the screen on to check the time. "It's 6:03." You lock your phone and slide it back in your dress, looking back to him with a small smile. "There's no need to apologize for three minutes." You say positively. "You're here now, and I'm so happy you are." Your smile grows happily.

You have to clasp your hands together in font of your lap to physically contain yourself from jumping on the man in front of you. First off, you're overjoyed that you get to finally go on a date with him. Second off, he looks so damn good in his plaid button-down and jeans. You give him a quick once over. It looks like he'd given his beard a little neatening up. His shirt is ironed free of any wrinkles and tucked neatly into the waistband of his jeans. He has a brown leather belt that just so happens to match your boots perfectly. The circular buckle on the front has a horse on it, and his jeans hug his thighs just right, loosening back up as the fall passed his knees. On his feet are leather boots that are obviously a bit worn but sturdy. Must be his go-tos. Neither of you are dressed super fancy. Both cleaned up just appropriate enough for your date. You sigh out a happy sigh. "You ready to show me your moves?" You tease, raising a brow. Sy lets out a soft chuckle, showing off his teeth with his effortlessly charming smile.

"Now, little lady, I told you over the phone, 'I'm no dancer', but if it makes you happy, I'm more than ready." He gives you that smile that makes your knees go weak. He reaches for the door handle and opens the passenger door for you to get in. As you step closer, he holds a hand out for you to take, to use as leverage to get in the tall truck. You smile at him and give him a gracious nod and 'thank you' as you grab his hand to lift yourself into the seat.

Once you're safely in, Sy closes the door behind you and jogs over to his side, quickly hoping back into the driver's seat with one swift motion. He buckles up and looks over to you as he reaches for the gear shift, giving you another smile before shifting and driving off.

"Now, we have a little ways out til we get there. It's just outside of town. No more than 30 minutes." You look over at him as he drives, and he throws some short glances at you as he speaks. "So, uh..." He says, looking back and forth between you and the road. The happy, wide-eyed look you're giving him is making it awful hard to keep his mind straight. He clears his throat and decides to focus his eyes on the streets ahead of him, but the feeling of your eyes on him remains. "How's the move been so far? You likin' your new place?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your little smile grow a bit as you nod.

"Yeah, it's been going." You say with a soft chuckle and a shrug. "I at least have some furniture and kitchen stuff over, pots and pans or whatever, so I can now somewhat function out of my own place. It's looking a little less like a storage unit and more like a home, finally, minus the bedroom." You sigh and shift your gaze to the roads ahead as well. "I still have boxes to unpack and a bed frame I've been procrastinating having to put together, but it's nice." You smile, the pride of having a space to call your own swelling in your chest.

Sy glances over at you, eyes nervously shifting back and forth, contemplating his next words before just blurting them out. "I could help if you want." You turn to him to say something, but he continues before you get the chance. "I know you said you don't want me to 'be burdened with your move', which I would, by the way, be more than happy to help you with anything, so don't worry about burdenin' me." He quickly adds in, "I could at very least come by and put your bed together." He glances over at you again as if to let you know he's done with his little ramble.

You give him a little smile, so soft and warm it melts his heart down into his stomach. There's a short pause of you just staring at him with pure admiration before you nod. "Okay." You say with a smile. Sy raises his brows and glances over at you.

"'Okay'? Really?" He clears his throat, shifting in his seat a little in an attempt to cover up the surge of happiness that just ran through him. "Alright. I, uh, I keep some tools in the back." He points a thumb to the backseat. "After tonight, I could fix it up when I bring you back home, so you can have a proper bed to sleep on." He shoots you a smile, and you gently nod. He's so cute. You turn your head to look out the window. This burly man, 'if looks could kill' exterior mixed with his cinnamon roll personality played criminal tricks with your mind and your heart. It only left you pondering what he was like in action, when he was on-duty.

With his soft, sweet, and caring attitude towards you, it was hard to imagine him with a scowl, guns blazin', and dirty. It felt a bit forbidden, but a part of you was set alight by the pure fantasy of it. You could feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought. You purse your lips and try to quietly control your breathing, cheeks starting to burn a little. You nearly jump out of your skin when Sy speaks up again. "Is that alright, darlin'?" You turn away from the window to look back towards him, finding his gaze shifting between you and the road.

You take a quick breath in to try and compose yourself. You nod quickly. "Yeah, no, yeah, that's completely fine. Sorry." You shake your head and let out a small sigh with a smile. "Just got... caught up in my own mind." You try to play your fluster off. He throws you another brain melting grin.

"Well, hopefully, tonight can help you de-stress." He focuses his eyes back on the road, thank God. "New job, new apartment, new town." He shakes his head. "You sure got your work cut out for you." You let out a little laugh and a nod.

"You're telling me. Thank you for taking me out tonight, and thank you in advance for the bed." You give him a smile. He arches a brow and shoots you a glance out the corner of his eyes.

"Don't thank me yet. I might step on your feet, spill beer on ya or somethin'." He says, lighthearted but honest. You let out another laugh, filling Sy's heart.

"Okay, okay. We'll see how the night progresses, but I'm sure there's nothing you could do that would make me any less grateful. I'm truly happy to be here. I'm lucky to have met you." You say honestly. The way the truth rolls off of you was easy, but to Sy, it felt like you just gave him the world. He's about 98% sure you have no idea the effect your words affect him. His smile grows, showcasing his teeth proudly from behind his freshly trimmed mustache.

Before the conversation could deepen any further, a loud POP erupts through the truck, followed by an insane, anxiety inducing rattling and swerving of the truck.

You instinctively reach out to hold onto something, and Sy instinctively reaches a protective arm out to you, keeping the other one on the wheel to maintain as much control over the truck as possible. You had just made it on the country road highway not ten minutes ago, and from the sounds and feel of it, one of the tires popped.

Sy carefully pulls over to the shoulder, parking the vehicle halfway off the road. Thankfully, there just so happened to not be any other cars on the road, but, then again, not-so-thankfully, that meant no immediate help nearby.

As soon as Sy gets to the roadside, he takes his arm back to use it to switch gears into park. He looks in the driver's side mirror with a clenched jaw. You both already know it's the tire, but a big part of him just hopes that the mirror will give him a different answer. He holds in a string of curses, throwing open the door and hopping out. He turns to you once he's outside, "I'll be right back." He's visibly struggling to keep calm, and your heart is a nervous wreck from the loud noise and turbulence. You want to ask him to stay for a few moments until your heart slows back down, but you instead stay silent and nod.

He closes the door and walks towards the back of the truck to get a closer look at the tire that blew. Even though the doors are closed and the windows are rolled up, you could still hear the muffled swears Sy was letting out. Though, yes, the situation is terrible, and you feel bad. You couldn't help but giggle through your little heart attack.

You turn to look through the back window to find a very stressed looking Sy leaning his hands on the truck with his head down. You couldn't hold back a pity smile. Poor guy.

You could see him let out a heavy breath before standing up straight and waking back to the driver's side door. He opens it and pauses, fixing his jaw. He drops his head, letting out another deep breath before looking back up at you. "I'm sorry, darlin'." He starts. "The damn thing is completely busted, and I don't have a spare." He drops his hands from the truck to run the down his jeans. He reaches for his back pocket to grab his phone. You shake your head.

"Don't apologize. It's happens." Your optimistic tone and little pouty face softens the blow. He shakes his head with a chuckle.

"This has got to be the worst date. I'm sorry, pumpkin." He pulls out his phone, clicking the screen on and tapping at it. "One of my guys drives a tow truck for a livin'. There's no tellin' what he's up to right now. He's probably still workin', but imma try givin' him a call and see if he can lend a hand."

"Okay." You say with a relaxed smile. He sighs a soft grin, a gentle look in his eyes. His shoulders relax ever-so-slightly. He hates that you're stuck with him in this situation, but at the same time, he's glad he's stuck here with you.

"Just a minute, pretty girl." He winks, bringing the phone up to his ear and closing the door softly as he walks around to the front of the truck, leaning against the grill.

You watch him have the conversation through the windshield, waiting with your hands rested in your lap. The phone call doesn't last too long as barely five minutes pass by before he's hanging up the phone and rubbing a hand down his face. He doesn't make any attempts to move, so you take that as your opportunity to get out of the truck and walk towards him.

Sy lifts his head from the hand he has massaging his forehead to look over at you. "I'm so sorry, darlin'." He looks at you, guilt, embarrassment, and shame worrying his features. You shake your head and raise a hand to stop him, closing your eyes and looking away, a clear indication of not 'wanting to hear it'.

"No need. Like I said, you don't need to apologize for this." You lean next to him on the warm grill of the car and offer a soft grin. You lean over to bump your shoulder to his. "Any luck with your buddy?" He lets out another sigh, looking down at his phone.

"Well, like I suspected, he's still on the clock and currently helpin' someone else out, but he'll come and get us once he's free. Though, it may be a while." Sy slides the phone back into his back pocket before going back to rubbing his forehead.

"You know, you look really handsome." Sy looks up, removing his hand from his face and looking over to you. The smile on your face nearly makes him forget the unfortunate situation you're both stuck in. He can't help but adore the way your head is adorably tilted as you smile at him. It brings a little smile to his own face. He huffs out a brief chuckle and looks down at his boots, shifting his feet a little.

"Thank you, darlin', and you are just as beautiful as the day I first saw you." He gives you a pursed grin as if trying to contain his smile but failing. You blush and look away from him. You avert your gaze to the field just off to the side of the road, admiring the setting sun. The warm light makes you look as if you're glowing, and Sy can't seem to pry his eyes off of you. His eyes slowly find their way lowering, caressing your figure. "It's a damn shame you've wasted such a pretty little outfit on this."

Your head turns back to him with a scrunched nose smile and warm cheeks. Just then, the best idea pops into your head. "You know, it's not over yet." You pull out your phone, unlock it and open up your music app. "We still got time for a dance or two." You give him a teasing smile, glancing over your phone to him.

Sy shakes his head with furrowed brows. "You can't seriously be tryin' to get me to dance," He looks around, " out here."

"Oh, what?" You press play, setting your phone on the hood of the truck and stepping away from the vehicle. "Scared?" You reach for Sy's hand and weakly attempt to pull him to you. Sy lets you drag him off the truck with little resistance but doesn't let his face show how easily he's persuaded.

You close the distance between you two, Sy's hands finding themselves in yours. "Now, remember what I told you, darlin'.-"

"I know, I know." You hush him and pull him closer. "I don't care. Just dance with me." You squint at him, and he caves instantly, allowing you to bring his hands to your hips.

You tentatively leave your hands on his broad shoulders and begin swaying to the music, easing into a rhythm. You smile at him, gaining a timid grin back. Sy tries his best to follow your lead but is notably awkward and stiff. You can't help but giggle at this. "Hey, now, no laughin' at me." He says, trying his best to be stern but ultimately stiffling his own chuckle. You shake your head, trying to rid your body of its laughter.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry." You manage out through your badly contained giggles. Sy shakes his head at you with a smile.

Several songs and several close calls of him barely missing your toes pass before Sy finally loosens up enough for you to be a bit more experimental with your movements. You open the door to singing along to the songs you like the most. Sy surprises you with his own baritone singing voice, the shock on your face giving him the confidence to step back and spin you around.

When he pulls you back into his chest, admittedly a bit clumsily, you speak up, "Why didn't you tell me you had such a beautiful singing voice?" Due to the nature of the clumsy spin, you were tumbled into his chest, resting one hand over his heart and the other entangled with his. You could feel his heartbeat in your palm through his shirt. Its quick pace was endearing and sweet, causing yours to quicken as well. He gives you a bashful smile.

"I'm no singer, gorgeous." You scoff and roll your eyes.

"Oh, please. I quite literally just heard you. You're actively humming now!" You point out with a laugh. His chest rumbles with a chuckle. He shrugs and continues to hum along, leaving it at that. You give him a playful glare, which he ignores and only pulls you closer by your waist.

Not long after, the sun has disappeared to the point of turning the sky into a deep, royal blue, hinting at the dark night sky incoming. The headlights of the still running truck illuminate you two as you dance, creating your own personal spotlights.

Everything in this moment is sweet and wholesome. A day that started and continued to dampen Sy's mood ended up being one of the greatest he's had in forever, and every upside to this day is thanks to you. This was only your first date, but he knew from right then and there that he would one day make you his wife. He didn't want to scare you off, though, so he kept that thought to himself, twirling you around in the evening air.

Now that the sun was no longer providing its warm blanket, it started to chill. It could be smelt in the air before it began to fall. A spring shower was incoming.

Just as that fact became evident, little droplets started falling from the sky. At first, it was going ignored and partially unnoticed, but it couldn't be ignored for long as the droplets turned into a light sprinkle. "We should get back in the truck before things start getting worse." Sy announces, but you shake your head.

"No, no. Let's at least finish the song." You reply, giving him a bright smile. He melts and submits, letting you continue on with your singing and sways. He knows it's way too early to call it, but, God, he loves you.

Barely halfway through the song, rain starts coming down in clusters. The change happens within a blink of an eye and causes you and Sy to stop almost immediately. Sy pulls you in closer, flush against his strong body as if trying to protect you from the falling water. You let out a little squeak. "I think it's time to call it." He chuckles, ducking his head down to keep rain from hitting his eyes.

He starts leading you over to the passenger's side, keeping you as close as humanly possible the entire tread there. He throws the door open and damn near picks you up by your waist and throws you in. Just as your bum his the seat, you shout out, "My phone!"

Sy closes the door in response and runs back around the truck, grabbing your phone and jogging to the driver's side, hopping in and shutting the door behind him. He hands you your damp phone after doing a quick swipe on his jeans to get most of the water off of it.

You giggle as you take it from him, "Thank you." He chuckles with a head shake.

"You're a crazy little lady, aren't ya?" You tilt up your chin.

"Adventurous, Free Spirited, Yes." You proudly correct, matter-of-factly, earning another chuckle from Sy.

He looks over at you, convincing you your heart had stopped. His eyes hold nothing but pure adoration. You swear all your insides melted as soon as your gazes collided.

You both hold eye contact for what feels like an eternity. Time feels like a slow-motion movie scene, and despite the gloomy, blue hue from the rainy evening, the world suddenly has a rose tint.

You notice Sy's eyes drop from yours, down to your lips. You follow suit, but just as you were going to lean in, an angry shiver runs through you. Your eyes meet his again. A smile grows on his face. He scoots a bit closer to the middle of the bench seat to reach into the backseat, promptly grabbing a brownish Carrhart jacket and draping it over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent.

As soon as it's over you, you slip your arms into it and bring it tighter around you, using all your might to resist the urge to bring it up to your nose.

Sy gives you another award winning smile that brightens his eyes. He'd never liked his clothes on anyone else so much better than himself, but here you are.

You take this opportunity to scoot closer to him, meeting him in the middle of the bench. He raises an arm, inviting you into his side. You snuggle in close as he rests his arm around you.

Sy reaches forward to turn the heat on low to try and help you both dry off a bit faster without overheating. You being so cuddled up to him warms the pit of his belly. He smiles down at you before tilting his head to rest on top of yours. "This has got to be the best first date I've ever been on." You confess. He chuckles, the rattling in his chest causing your head to bounce slightly. He sighs, content and whole.

"Hopefully, the first of many."

--💕👢💕--

I hope you liked it!!😫💕

#captain syverson x you #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #captain syverson fic #syverson fluff #syverson x reader #black velvet swiss fic #swiss fics #captain syverson x black reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #syverson swiss fics

[froggyfics]

The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest - 1 

The prince is looking for a new bride.

(09/15/23) Note: If you have read this chapter before this date, please note that I have combined chapters 1 and 2 together. This may seem confusing, but I have decided that as a creative approach, I would like the chapters to be longer.

Okay, this is my first series and let me tell you, it will be LOOOONNNG. I really hope that you will stick around to see it to its end, but I'm expecting at least a minimum of 8 chapters.

Since this is a series, I will not write down the theme (ex: angst, fluff, smut) at the beginning of the chapters like I normally do for my one-shots, just to keep the suspense.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Word Count: 3,490

The pads of your fingers just barely graze the canvas. The quality of the painting is unlike anything you had ever seen before. You look over every pore, committing all of it to memory. The background is a swirl of blacks and greys, nothing prominent at all. You soon begin to realize that the plain background was a conscious artistic choice made by the artist. The artist could have painted the secrets of the universe, the equation for immortality, or the cure for all manner of diseases in the background of his painting, but alas, it would have all been ignored in favor of the subject of the portrait. 

You trace the outline of his plush, jet-black hair. You wonder how it would feel in your hands as you swept his hair to the side. You stare into his striking green eyes, hoping that they’ll look directly at you rather than into space. His jawline is sharper than any sword, and it seems as though his cheekbones were created by ancient Grecian sculptures. He dons a green cloak that matches his eyes, and his black and green armor far exceeds the beauty of anything you own in your humble boudoir. 

“He really is quite handsome, is he not?”

You hum in response. There is truly nothing else to say. It is factually precise to say that he is handsome, but what good will it do to admit that? 

It is not like he will ever be yours. You will never be chosen as his bride. Therefore, it is a waste of time to fantasize about the beautiful man. This meeting is simply a formality from the ruling Al Ghul family to appease the aristocrat families. The purpose is to make it seem as though any maiden in the land has a chance to marry the dashing prince. 

Nonetheless, you know better. His portrait will be delivered to other families that hold more titles and wealth than you could ever imagine. He will marry someone closer to his own royal rank.

You finally look up after what seems like hours of admiring his portrait. You can sense your mother fretting behind you, twisting her skirt in a nervous tick. 

“Thank you for delivering the portrait of His Majesty safely,” you politely remarked. 

The messenger bows his head in response. Attempting to conclude this pointless meeting, you make an effort to pass the portrait back to the messenger. You glance at your mother and nod at her to encourage the dismissal of your guest. 

“Please send our regards to the royal family,” your mother begins. “We would be honored to give our daughter in marriage to the rightful heir to the throne. Do you not agree, my dear?”

Your mother glares at your father, who has thus far spoken minimally. “Oh, erm, yes, of course! It would be the greatest compliment upon our family name to have our daughter marry our Prince.”

The messenger nods his head in response. “I will send your pleasantries and marriage acceptance to the Al Ghul family as soon as I return to 'Eth Alth'eban. You are correct, in that it would be the mightiest achievement to have your daughter marry into the royal family.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” your father mutters, exhausted with the formalities that must be extended to his guest. He stands from his seat and marches to the door. “I shall accompany you to your horse.”

The messenger bows deeply towards you and your mother before following your father out the threshold. As soon as the door shuts, the two of you sigh in relief. Your mother ceases to fret, and immediately collapses on the lounger, covering her forehead with the back of hand. 

You giggle at her exasperation. “I simply do not understand why we had to sit through that humiliation. What was the purpose? T’was simply a waste of our time.”

Your mother shakes her head in response. “That, I do not know, my dear. I do hope feel quite awful for that poor messenger. His travels must be unnecessarily extended if he must visit every single aristocrat family home.”

“That is exactly what I thought!” you cried. “In this unbearable heat, too!” 

You could not fathom the reason why the messenger was sent to your house in the first place. You were the daughter of a modest earl with no ties to vast swathes of land or people. There were plenty of eligible ladies of higher standings in society that were of marriageable age that the prince could choose from. Your family was certainly not impoverished, but were nowhere near the status of the crown prince. It certainly seemed like a cruel joke. Not that you fell for it, but you were sure at least some of your peers would despondently fall in love with those jade-colored eyes from the portrait. 

The door swings open to mark your father’s return from seeing off the messenger. You glance out the window to see his horse galloping away from your home, eastbound, in the direction of Earl Smith’s home. You smile to yourself at the thought of the earl’s daughter, who you know to be a bit of a hopeless romantic, squealing in excitement at the thought of a marriage proposal from the royal family. Little does she know just how unfathomable the idea is.

Your father collapses onto his usual seat, groaning loudly. “Poor lad. Running around for no reason it seems.” He sighs deeply before slowly meeting your gaze. It is evident that he is deep in thought. He glances at your mother with a knowing look, who lowers her eyes shyly to her feet, before returning to his attention to you. 

“Father? Mother?” you nervously question. Their silent exchange makes you prickly, and you fidget in your seat. There is something they are surely keeping secret from you. 

“The messenger’s unexpected arrival has reminded us of an…issue that we face in this household.” 

“What? What is it, father?” you anxiously question. Your hands fiddle with your skirt in an attempt to distract your racing heart.

Your father leans forward in his seat. He opens his mouth to speak, but then promptly closes it. He grimaces before speaking again. “First and foremost, your mother and I must emphasize that you are our daughter, and we want what is only best for you.”

You shift uncomfortably while your mother continues to avoid your gaze.

“You are of a certain age, my dear. It is time we must find you a righteous husband. And soon, might I add. It is certainly proper for a girl – apologies, woman, your age to wed.”

Silence becomes the loudest sound in the room. The admission is simultaneously surprising, and not so surprising to you. You were not oblivious to the hints your parents have been divulging as of late. All the dinners you have attended, all the dinners that you have hosted, all the correspondence between your father and other men that has occurred, has led you to understand that your marriage was at the forefront of your parents’ minds. As much as you wanted to remain a free person under the guardianship of your father, you knew that your time of adulthood was fast approaching. 

You play with the strings of thread on your bodice. Your garment was long overdue for repairs, which must be your top priority if you want to attract the correct suitor. 

You frown internally. Just a few moments after the topic of marriage is brought up, and you already are thinking of appeasing a man. Is this what the rest of your life will look like? Constantly thinking about your appearance for the approval of your husband?

You look up to the concerned faces of your parents. Even your mother has stopped playing her game of avoidance and is silently pleading with you to be compliant. 

Is there an alternative? You grimace as you realize that all that can be done is to agree with their plans. This is simply the way your life was destined to play out. Just like with your sisters, aunts, cousins, and grandmothers, you were born to be passed from your father’s household to your husband’s. 

“I understand,” you slowly start, the words feeling like knives in your mouth. “I trust your instincts and know it is the time for me to seek a different sort of companionship.”

Your mother jumps up and squeals suddenly in excitement. The breath your father was holding immediately is released and the color rushes back to his face. The scene brings a solemn smile to your face. As their daughter, your parents’ happiness is also your happiness. How can you deny them this favor?

A loving kiss is placed upon your forehead by your mother. You examine that joy that is evident on her face. It is chiefly her duty to find you a husband, and you wonder who she will manage to scrounge up for you. 

“Perhaps in just a few months’ time you will enter the Al Ghul household as a princess,” she lovingly teases. 

A laugh bubbles out of your mouth and dissipates into the air. “Perhaps mother. Although, it is more likely I will step foot on the moon than marry the prince.”

The great chamber is a mess, but alas, it is a symbol of merriment. Piles of bones lay atop dirty dishes, picked apart by the ravenous guests. There was one point during dinner where various cheeses and loaves of bread were laid out to accompany the meat, but few pieces now remain. 

You pick up a half-eaten grape that was near the edge of table. It belonged to the pile of fruit that you hand-picked earlier that week. You sigh deeply, knowing that it will take much your evening and the following morning to tidy up. Your family’s estate operates on a skeleton crew, with a majority of your household staff being assigned to work the fields and kitchen, leaving a majority of the household chores to fall upon you and your mother. There was one point in time where your sisters would help divvy up the tasks, but alas, they have all married and are can only be concerned with their husbands’ estates, instead.

Your mother clasps her hands together in excitement. You look at her curiously, wondering if she has laid eyes on the same mess that you have. How can she be so excited in the presence of the utter mess that has been made?

“I think this has been nothing short of a success! The Earl would not stop stealing glances at you.” 

“Mother,” you sigh. “Earl Clinton stole glances at every woman with a heartbeat tonight. His affections were not limited to myself.”

“Oh hush, child! Do not be so sour.” Her face wrinkles at your negativity before sighing deeply. “My love,” she began. She grabs your hands softly and kisses them gently. “Earl Clinton may not be the most…moral or upstanding man.”

Her train of thought is interrupted by your scoff. Earl Clinton was a known womanizer and remained mentally the same age as an adolescent child, despite the fact that he was your mother’s age. She scowls before continuing.

“As I was saying,” she hisses, “he may not be the most virtuous husband, but he is an Earl. You would never have to do chores ever again. You would never have to worry about hardship again. Your children will have access to far better opportunities than your father and I could ever provide for you.”

You twist your hands away from her grip angrily. “There is more to life than being wealthy.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose before looking up again. “You are still a young maiden, so I will forgive you for your ignorance. While there certainly is more to life than simply wealth, you will one day understand that your status and wealth will absolutely affect your quality of life. Just look around you!” she exclaims. “Would you rather clean this filthy mess up yourself, or live a life where you can have someone else do it for you?”

Crossing your arms, you huff as you realize your mother made a logical point. She snickers at your obvious defeat. She cups your face lovingly with her hands and gazes deeply into your eyes. “You do not have to love your spouse. That is not the purpose of marriage. You just have to learn to live with one another in order to procreate the next generation. Besides, I admit your father and I have selfish reasons for entertaining the Earl’s marriage proposal.” She kisses your forehead tenderly and you close your eyes at the comfort that surrounds you. “His lands are only a few days journey away. We can visit one another often.”

You beam at the thought of being near your parents, but your smile dispels once a realization dawns upon you. 

“D – does this mean that Father is accepting the Earl’s proposal?”

Your mother nods her head slowly. “We plan on riding to the Earl’s estate within week to accept his proposal in person.”

The disappointment within you slips out of your body and makes its presence known on your face. Within a few months, your precious girlhood will end. Your life as you know it will cease to exist and never return. All that will exist is the life surrounding your future husband and children.

Sensing the solemn mood, your mother once again kisses your forehead. “Go, child,” she urges. “Think not of the mess made from tonight. Rest well.”

All you can do is nod your head and drag yourself to your room. As soon as your bedroom door closes behind you, you fling yourself onto your bed to curl into a fetal position. Your stomach coils and kinks in worry. There is something your subconscious is trying to tell you, but you do not have the wherewithal to understand exactly what. 

Closing your eyes, all you can dream about is the prison you are about to be trapped in. The prison of matrimony. 

“My Lady! Awake!”

Alice is shaking your rigid body with such force that your head lolls uncomfortably. 

“Alice! What is wrong?” you cry. Certainly, something terrible must have occurred for Alice to wake you in such a state.

She shakes her head violently. “You must come downstairs at once!” She turns towards your bedroom door without further explanation.

Crust that has formed during your sleep irritates your eyes. You sit at the edge of your bed, taking a moment to wipe it off. 

Alice huffs when she notices that you have not followed her, and turns around to grab your arm and yank you up.

“Alice!” you shout. She has never treated you with such ignominy before, making your heart flutter in anxiety.

She does not respond as she drags you out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Her grip on your arm only loosens when you reach the great chamber. 

It had been wiped clean, leaving behind no indication that there was even a dinner hosted there just the night prior. Your anxiety blooms when you see your mother, father, and the Al Ghul’s messenger standing around.

Your head tilts in confusion. You were not expecting to see the Al Ghul’s messenger ever again after he left with the prince’s portrait nearly a season prior. What could he possibly be doing here?

“Mother, Father, what has happened to make Alice wake me in such a fright?” you ask.

They respond with silence. Your mother’s face is a pale gray and your father’s remains stoic. 

“Someone! Please answer me!”

The messenger steps forward awkwardly. “I have a message from R’as Al Ghul, long may he live.”

Alice, your parents, and you echo the messenger’s sentiment. “Long may he live.”

The messenger clears his throat and opens a scroll. Your eyebrows furrow as you notice the waxy seal of House Al Ghul on its top perimeter. “I, the Demon’s Head, R’as Al Ghul, hereby authorize the union between Prince Damian, from House Al Ghul and House Wayne, the heir to 'Eth Alth'eban, and…”

You hear the messenger correctly state your name and your father’s, but you hold your breath in disbelief. Is this a dream? It must be. It has to be. A union…between you…and the Prince? There must be some sort of error. You are the daughter of a lowly baron. You would be considered extraordinarily lucky for you to marry an earl, let alone the heir to the realm.

“I command the urgent arrival of the heir’s future bride and her family to the capital. The wedding will take place soon after.”

You were not sure what else was said, as you stand dumbfounded. The messenger continued drawling, but you could not hear his voice. Vomit threatened to rise up from your stomach. 

“My love, are you alright?” you mother gently asks. She could sense the turmoil in your head as you shakily back away from everyone.

“Wh – what? How? W – why?”

Your mother shakes her head in response. “There is no time to think of these questions. We do not know, my dear. All we can do is prepare for your departure.” She steps closer to you and attempts to grab your hands, but you swat her away.

“Mother, no! Wh – what about Earl Clinton?” you urge. “Were we not just about to accept his marriage proposal? I mean, we already have made plans to journey to his estate and –,”

“Child,” your father interrupts. “The king has already demanded for your hand...”

“But,” you try to interrupt, but your father silences you with his raised hand.

“Plans change. We must learn to adapt if we must survive in this world. Alice, inform the stable to travel to my other children at once. I request their presence immediately.”

Alice nods her head and turns to exit. 

Your father turns to the messenger, who stands upright, waiting for his dismissal. “Thank you. You may tell King R’as that we prepare for our departure immediately.”

The messenger responds, “Yes, my Lord. I will return to the capital with your message at once. In the meantime, wait for the royal carriages to arrive. They shall arrive within a fortnight to take you to the capital.”

And with that, the messenger finally leaves. You and your parents are left to confront the sudden new reality.

“But, Mother,” you begin again. “What happened to living close to each other? The capital is so far from our home. I – I – I don’t know how often we would be able to see one another after the wedding.”

Your mother’s lips quiver and her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, my daughter!” 

She reaches towards you again and this time, you accept her. You both squeeze with all your strength, as if this is the last night you will ever see each other. The two of you share an embrace for what seems like hours, afraid to let go and succumb to the uncertainty of reality. 

Your mother finally breaks the embrace, but keeps one arm around you, while the other caresses your head. You lean into her comforting hand, relishing in her warmth.

“I understand you have many questions. I do, too. Unfortunately, we know just as much as you do about this situation.”

“But, Mother!” You escape her grasp to look clearly at her. “Is this not at all suspicious? I am the daughter of a baron! He is the prince, the heir to the throne! This type of union is unheard of!” 

“You are right, child,” your father says softly. “However, we cannot question the logic of the monarchy. Such a union is generally unheard of, but not impossible.” He scratches his bread in thought. “Many years ago, before your time, King R’as had several concubines. Perhaps…Prince Damian would like to continue that tradition.”

Your face wrinkles in disgust at that word. Concubine. You would rather be Earl Clinton’s wife than a concubine to the prince. The connotations behind the word upset you, but alas, it makes logical sense. 

“Tsk, I cannot fathom sharing a man, as some people do.”

“Daughter, being the concubine of a prince is a better fate than most people have. It may not hold the same respect or title as ‘wife’, but you will forever live in luxury if you learn to please the prince.”

“Ugh -,” your father grunts uncomfortably at the thought. Despite his indifferent attitude towards the situation, it saddens him to think that your fate exists outside of the respectable confines of marriage.

Your mother sharply looks at your father, silencing him. She returns to look at you and coos at your tear-stricken eyes. “Please forgive me, my child. I wish I had all the answers. I wish I could comfort your heart.”

#dc comics #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x fem!reader #damian wayne x y/n #league of assassins #loa!damian wayne #damian wayne

[acaaciia]

bleach

relationship: Gekko x gen!reader || Mateo x gen!reader

listed tags: fluff, friends to lovers (?), reader being a good nuera/yerno, oneshot

trigger warnings: none

synopsis: Bleaching some hair gets a little heated. 

You and Mateo have known each other since before you knew how to write your own name. You were there when you each first scratched your knees attempting to learn how to ride a skateboard, down to when the first light had occurred.

Needless to say, the two of you have been through the thick of it, and when Mateo asked for you to come over and help him with a new look, well, you couldn’t resist the offer.

It didn’t even take a second after you knocked on the door, for it to fling open, revealing Mateo with a giant grin. Wingman stood to his right, peaking over the side of his leg.  

“Por fin! (1) I knew you’d pull through.” He said, taking one of the bags from your hands and handing it over to his companion.

You grinned in return, “Of course I did, I couldn't let you damage your hair alone.”, You joked as you reached down to pet the little creature, “Now come on, let’s get this over with before your mom kills both of us.”

Stepping into the small home you immediately greet the older woman who was busy cutting up a variety of fruits, “Hola Señora, ¿cómo está hoy?”(2)

“Aye, bien mijita/mijito, ¿cómo está su mamá?” (3) Mateo 's mother looked up from where she stood in the kitchen, “Todavía está tomando ese té que lo mande?”,(4) she whipped her hands on her apron, walking around the small island to greet you with a hug.

You laughed, shaking your head as the two of you parted, “Lo termino, pero eya empenso a tomar ajo y curcuma.” (5) you said, turning to Mateo, making a sour face at the thought of the combination. “She even started putting it in my licuados.” (6)

This sparked up a whole conversation between you and Mateo’s mother, as she went over the multitudes of things your mom should start eating to improve her health. It didn’t last long before Mateo came in to save the day from his mothers ranting, “Perdoname mami,(7) but we got something super important to do.” He insisted, nudging you towards the hallway that led to his room.

The older woman rolled her eyes at her son and waved the two of you off, “Fine, fine, pero dejan la puerta abierta.” (8) She half joked, returning to her previous task.

Mateo could feel his ears heaten up at the implications and groaned out a small ‘aye ama’(9). You chuckled at his embarrassment and shot the woman a thumbs up as you let your friend lead you further into his house.

Entering Mateo’s room, you immediately made yourself at home pushing away the random junk he had laying around to make room for your snacks and bleaching materials. You set up your makeshift salon station, passing a chip or two to the quartet of creatures that watched you with interest, mainly interested in the snacks you had. As you finished setting up, you threw a curious glance to Mateo who was spinning himself around with his desk chair, ‘patiently’ waiting for you to finish.

“You ready for this?” You questioned, slipping on a pair of latex gloves before making your way around the man, a bowl filled with a mixture of bleach and developer in hand. He stopped his spinning, his eyes met yours as he looked at your reflection in the mirror. He grinned and gave you a nod of approval, “Show me whatcha got.”

“Just let me know if it starts to burn,” you warned.

Taking the brush into your hand, you started on the back of his head, trying to angle your strokes perfectly so as to not get any of the bleach onto his skin. This process took a while and continued till you finally reached the front of his head.

You were so close, he thought, your legs straddled his own as you leaned in closer for better precision around his hairline. Mateo could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, his hands twitched as they tensed up to his side. Of course, he was aware of the fact that he had a thing for you, he always did. He never acted on it directly though, but with you so close he- “Quedate quieto.” (10) You practically whispered as you placed one of your gloved hands under his chin, tilting his head up for a better angle.

Mateo’s face burned as you cradled his head, he’s never gotten such an up-close view of you before. He swore he could die a happy man with a view like this. He watched as your eyebrows scrunched and contorted with a look of concentration. The way your lips pursed ever so slightly as you meticulously painted his hair with bleach, he had half a mind to take the brush from you and pull you down for a kiss himself.

“And I think that should be it.” You stated as you finished applying the last of the bleach to Mateo’s hair. It was only then, as you pulled back slightly to inspect your work, did you realize the position you had placed yourself in. Your breath hitched as your eyes met Mateos' own, your hand still hovering gently under his chin.  

You didn’t know what came over you, maybe it was the fact that you could feel the warmth of his body under your skin that made your head feel light. Maybe you simply had breathed in too much of the bleach and now it was messing with your head. Whatever the cause you couldn’t help yourself when you leaned down and captured his partially chapped lips for a kiss.

Mateo was stunned by your action but quickly recovered and reciprocated the kiss. His hands grazed over the top of your body gently, dipping between every curve and crevice trying to memorize every detail into the depths of his brain. He shifted you in closer, one of his hands making its way to your thigh to hold you in place, while the other came around to grip your waist.

The two of you lost track of time in the little universe you created where only the two of you existed. Neither of you could tell when Mateo had finally brought you down to sit comfortably in his lap, or when you had lost the bowl of bleach as or when your other hand wrapped around his neck, but the two of you weren’t in the mood to care.

Key:

1. Finally 2. (formal greeting to an older woman) Hello Ma’am, how are you? 3. mijita/mijito: a term of endearment typically from an older person to a younger person, used in a similar context as sweetie. Not to be used in a romantic sense/relationship. "Sweetie, how is your mom?" = "Mijita, how is your mom?" 4. Is she still drinking the tea I sent her? 5. She finished it, but has started to drink ginger and turmeric instead. 6. (a shake/smoothie) 7. Forgive me, mom. /Excuse me, mom./ I’m sorry, mom. 8. But, leave the door open. 9. Mom, please. (a whiney, complained/embarrassed way of saying it) 10. Stay still.

#gekko x reader #mateo x reader #valorant #gekko #valorant gekko #reader insert #x reader #fluff #friends to lovers #valorant x reader #oneshot

[wordsbyrian]

Royal Navy - Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: Royal Navy!R was childhood friends with Less and things ended sort of poorly between them, they meet again. years later.

A/N: Alright so I don't know a lot about the Royal Navy but I do know a lot about the US Navy so everything in here is a combination of research and filling in the blanks with American military knowledge.

Sometimes, life doesn’t give you everything you want.

Correction, most of the time life doesn’t give you anything you want. This explains the conversation that you’re currently having while sitting in your girlfriend’s room.

“I just don’t know why you would want to volunteer to join the army,” she says, flopping back onto her bed.

“I’m joining the Navy, Less,” you tell her for what must be the one-thousandth time. “Besides, there's not anything for you to understand. I don’t understand why you're going to school in America but I’m not trying to stop you.”

“I’m going to play football and learn,” Alessia says, “Not signing up to get myself killed.”

“Yea, well, we all can’t be the next Kelly Smith, can we?”

“Don’t get smart with me Y/N, I don’t want to argue with you,” she says, finally sitting up to look at you.

“But you do, because if you didn’t we’d be making out not having this conversation the day before I leave for Dartmouth,” you respond, getting up from your seat at her desk, “I won’t be able to use my mobile so often I’ll  write you but don’t bother answering if you’re gonna keep at it like this.”

With that, you walk out of Alessia’s room and as a result her life.

You do hear her calling after you but you know she hasn’t changed her mind so you don’t bother turning around.

That was over 5 years ago and while you did keep your promise of writing and calling her; after your first three letters received no response, you gave up.

That doesn’t mean that you stopped cheering her on, you’ve seen all her major moments, no matter how far away you were.

Over the summer, you along with practically every other sailor on your ship watched as she along with the rest of the Lionesses conquered Europe.

And now, you’re standing on the touchline at Kingsmeadow in your dress uniform for some surprise your sister planned with Chelsea.

But if you had known they scheduled it for the weekend the Blues welcome United, you probably would’ve waited a little longer to take some leave time.

Anything would be better than having Alessia attempt to burn holes in you with only her eyes as you carry the ball out for the coin toss.

You can’t tell if she recognizes you with your hair cut so short and your body so stiff but when you hear the PA ask everyone to turn their attention to you, you know that she’ll figure it out soon if she hasn’t already.

“Everyone please join us in a round of applause,” the voice says over the speakers, “as we welcome back former Chelsea youth player, Lieutenant Commander in His Majesty’s Royal Navy, Y/N Y/L/N. Thank you for your service.”

You allow yourself to smile slightly as Emma Hayes hands you a Chelsea shirt with your name on it before a stadium hand comes to lead you to your seat.

The match is good and you enjoy it as much as you can with strangers coming up to you every two minutes.

When it ends, 2-1 Chelsea, you make your back pitchside having agreed to speak with the players in the small window of time Hayes and Skinner have managed to get them to give up.

When you're led to a back room you’re shocked to see both teams there intermingled but you quickly remember that women's football has always been much more cordial than the men’s game.

After another quick introduction from the assistant who led you there, you stand alone in front of the two teams.

“Hello,” you say, standing pretty stiffly with your hands clutching your cover behind your back. “I’m not going to introduce myself again but now seems like a good time to mention that since my dad is from Newburn, I’m a Newcastle fan.”

That gets a few scattered laughs that help to break some of the tension and ease your nerves.

“I’m supposed to be talking to you about leadership, team building, and morale but I watched the game and I can definitely say that neither team needs to hear from someone whose idea of team building is sticking people in the middle of the ocean for months at a time and seeing who can get passed their problems long enough to survive,” you say plainly, not bothering to hide your disinterest for the situation. “So I figured you can just ask me questions until they let us leave.”

Murmurs of agreement go through the group so you press on, alternating between teams to ensure you’re being fair.

Most of the questions are the normal ones you get when people find out you're in the Navy. So you explain what it means to be both a Lieutenant Commander and a Surface Warfare Officer.

There are a couple of shocked faces when you tell them that you’re trained to operate all the heavy artillery on the ships and a couple of faces that fill you with more than a bit of concern because of how glee-filled they are.

When you tell them that you joined the Navy because of family tradition you can see Alessia roll her eyes and whisper something to Toone but you divert your attention to Millie Bright, who you recognize from the time you spent training with the full team.

And based on her question it seems like she recognizes you too.

“You made some appearances with the full team, why’d you choose the Navy over football,” she asks.

Laughing a little you answer her, “I played 30 minutes in the Conti Cup and was in Hayes’ office the next day quitting. That was literally the worst half hour of my life and I almost drowned in the sinking ship exercise.”

It’s then that you notice Alessia put her hand up to ask a question and considering you want nothing more than to not have to interact with her, you ignore it getting through a few others before you notice Ella with her hand up as well.

So you make the mistake of calling on her.

“Are you ever going to let Less ask a question,” she says with an unbelievable amount of sass.

“I suppose I have to now,” you say, “Crack on, Russo.”

Alessia doesn’t take this well because she glares at you and asks in the coldest voice you’ve ever heard from her, “How’s your sister?”

Never one to be outdone when it comes to being petty you respond in kind.

“She’s fine. Your family?”

It's your words that seem to spark a realization in some of the players’ faces that the two of you know each other but before any of them have a chance to say anything the same assistant from earlier comes to tell you that you’ve completed your time agreement.

For your part, you can’t get out of the building fast enough, barely stopping by the manager's office to tell Emma bye.

Getting to your car, you rush home probably breaking a few minor traffic laws in your haste.

When you do get home, you rush past your sister, Sarah, and her husband straight to your room, where you make quick work of changing into comfy clothes so that you can hide away for the foreseeable future.

You manage to go a full two days before your sister gets sick of your bullshit and barges in opening the blinds to let light into your cave of despair.

“Alright, it’s time to get up,” she says, pulling the blankets from on top of your head.

“Fuck off,” you say, turning away from her.

“I won’t," she replies, "You’ve been locked away in here, not eating, for days. All because you had to see the girl who broke your heart at 17. Grow up.”

Rolling back over you glare at her harshly but she continues speaking before you get the chance to tell her to go away again.

“Don’t make that face at me, it won’t work,” Sarah says, plainly, “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to take a shower and then when you’re done, you’ll come eat lunch before going to walk Magpie.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument and if we’re being honest, you’ve always been appropriately cautious of pissing her off. She did practically raise you after all.

So you did what she asked.

You showered, you ate with her and her goofball husband, and now you're sitting at the park with her idiot dog that is named after a bird.

“Oi, Magpie,” you call out, getting the dog’s attention, “Stop trying to eat that rock you berk, it’s bigger than you are.”

Somewhere to your left, you hear a familiar burst of laughter that has you panicking more than a little bit.

You do your best to ignore it, hoping that she would choose any of the other benches to go sit on. But that doesn’t seem to be in the cards for you as Alessia takes a seat right next to you, her dad’s dog coming to rest at her feet.

“Hey,” you say to her, not wanting to be rude before you turn your attention to the dog, “Sup Rocco, getting up there in age, aren’t you old boy?”

Alessia laughs again and you feel your heart skip a beat and a fluttering feeling begins in your stomach.

The two of you sit in relative silence for a while, the only words spoken are from you, usually a shout at your sister’s idiot dog.

You get so used to the silence that you almost miss it when she starts speaking.

“I owe you an apology for the way I treated you at the game,” Alessia begins, “It wasn’t fair of me to treat you like that, especially in front of so many people. -So, I’m sorry I did that.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting her to say but it definitely wasn’t that, so it takes you a moment before you respond.

“I can’t accept your apology,” you tell her after you finish processing. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see her shocked reaction so you continue before she can spiral too far. “Mostly because I was definitely a bigger dick than you were that day. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted that way, not in front of your team.”

You can see a small smile tug at her lips and you grin at her in response.

“We were both pretty big idiots, huh,” she says.

“Proper bellends,” you respond, “You’d think we would’ve done some growing up I guess not.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you and you let it stay for a few moments before you speak again.

“I think if we had been better at communicating, we probably would’ve been back on speaking terms at least four years ago,” you tell her seriously albeit with a joking tone.

“Are we?”

“Are we what?”

“Back on speaking terms,” Alessia clarifies.

“Obviously,” you say, “I don’t watch Magpie try to eat all the inedible things in sight with just anybody.”

The smile that had been threatening to break out on Alessia’s face is out in full force now and you can feel the fluttery sensation in your gut get stronger.

With that seemingly settled, the two of you fall into a pattern of conversation that is both familiar yet different.

In the past, most of your conversations centered around school, football, and making weekend plans. Now, it’s more of a catch up session but the vibes are the same.

It's perfect.

You don’t know how long you sit there but you’re eventually interrupted by the sound of both of your phones going off.

Your’s a call from Sarah telling you to bring her dog back and her’s a reminder from her dad about family dinner.

You stand up ready to try and catch Magpie and go when Alessia stops you.

“Y/N,” she begins, “Do you know where you’ll be stationed once your vacation ends?”

“Headed back to Dartmouth for five months to train the next batch of SWOs,” you tell her, “Then probably gonna be on shore duty for a while so might end up in command of a URNU. Depends.”

“On what?”

“Lots of things but mostly where the open postings are,” you explain.

“Two more questions but one relies on your answer to the other.”

“Shoot.”

“Will you be able to make and receive phone calls while at Dartmouth this time around,” she asks with a slight blush.

“I’ll be in charge so I can do what I want.”

“So would you be opposed to giving me your number so I can call you?”

Unable to resist teasing her a little bit, you let a coy grin spread across your face.

“Alessia Russo, are you trying to get back in my pants,” you ask her.

You watch as the blush on her deepens and she begins to sputter trying to defend herself.

You laugh a little and continue, “I mean it’s fine if you are but I’d prefer to know so that I don’t fuck it up like I did last time.”

“Y/N/N,” she says, still blushing and stuttering.

“My number is the same,” you say, taking pity on her, “so you better call me.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I am but now I’m an asshole that you’ve got to call.”

“It’d take the entire Royal Navy to stop me.”

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #engwnt x reader

[misslovasstuff]

Reward [2]

paring: Zoro x fem!reader

warnings: contains nsfw! (Minors, please do not interact!) pet names, teasing, swearing, riding, penetration, unprotected sex, praise kink combined with a bit of degenerative language…

tags: @iwillalwaystrustwhoiam @little-miss-naill

author’s note: a part three can be continued if you guys want one. If you haven’t checked out part one, here you go: part 1. Enjoy!

…

“I thought I was going to die back there.” - you say, back pressed against the wall as your eyes look up at his.

“For that to happen I have to be dead first. As if I could ever let you go away of my hold again.” - Zoro says, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

He presses his palm up against the wall, body leaning closer to you, faces only few centimetres apart.

“Don’t let me go then. Hold me closer tonight than ever before.” - you whisper breathily, teasing him by slightly brushing off your lips against his.

Not a second passes by and Zoro kisses you. At first it’s like he was consuming you in such a satisfying manner, slowly accustoming with your taste and the burning sensation of your lips on his while your body is only getting more drawn towards him. He notices that, moving his hands to your waist and pulling you a bit roughly while his kisses become more intense. His lips were surprisingly soft and yet he begins to slightly bite yours, taking advantage of your moans to insert his tongue in and feel you moaning in his mouth.

Goodness, he was good. So good that you lose control of your body as your hands wrap around his wide shoulders, fingers caressing the back of his neck. You feel your breathing pattern getting messed as your lips go numb from him dripping all his passion in them. Zoro licks them after breaking the kiss, gazing at your eyes.

“You’re a captain and you probably don’t like being told what to do, - he claims with a smirk, looking up at down at you. - But come now, be a good girl and undress yourself for me.”

His voice comes out husky and deep, sending shivers down your body. You gulp hard, shaking your head whilst mirroring his smirk.

“Why is that? - you pull him by the shirt, raising an eyebrow to him. - Are your hands trembling too much to do the job yourself?”

Oh oh, wrong move. His laugh and tilt of his head alone indicated that he liked your teasing but it also provoked him. Zoro bites his lip, taking his hands off your waist and placing them behind your back.

He pushes you towards him, his chest now touching yours.

“Oh, really? - Zoro’s hand goes under your shirt, taking off your bra within the first attempt of unbuckling it. Afterwards his hand slides down, taking a hold of your panties and stretching them upwards, his hand forming a fist while holding the sides of your cute pink underwear. - Are you sure you’re not the one trembling, captain?”

You try your best to contain your moan coming from the friction your panties had now with your pussy. He entangles them in his hand, making the feeling even more intense as you rest your head in the crook of his neck while he whispers.

“There, there… - Zoro puts his thumbs in your high waisted pants, pulling them down slowly, completely revealing your lower body. - let me help you more.”

He glances down at you with a smirk before his hands trace your thighs up your stomach, grabbing onto the corner of your shirt and taking it off gently before throwing it on the floor along with the unhooked bra.

Now his eyes feast on your exposed chest which he cups with his hands, rubbing them while his lips bury themselves in your neck, biting and licking your skin, setting it in flames.

“Zoro… - you moan his name, tilting your head as he conquers your neck with kisses that made your heart skip several beats. You clench your hands on his shirt, leaving out some moans that came from the depth of your soul as his hands caresses your boobs so nicely, teasing your nipples with his fingers on and on, pushing more pressure to them every time he leaned in and eagerly devoured you with his lips and mouth.

“Mhm?”- he responds to your desperate calls of his name with a smirk under his breath.

You can’t think straight right now thus what you do next is running your fingers through his hair, biting his ear and whispering the dirtiest things that come to your mind:

“You want me so bad, don’t you? - you say breathily, cutely moaning in his ear as you feel him leaving love marks on your skin and as he keeps teasing your tits. - Show me how desperate you are, Zoro.”

You don’t see it but the man is slightly blushing. He picks you up against the wall and grabs your thighs, putting them beside his hips as he looks into your eyes for a moment. You feel his excitement growing in his pants which makes you bite your lip and you take a deep breath in.

“I’ll show you many things tonight, captain. - he lends a peck on your lips one time. - many, many things I’m sure you’ll like. - then another and another peck as he moves you from your initial position to his bed, literally taking a few steps before throwing you there and then hovering over you. His strong arms surround you and his wide chest is nearly visible. - But let’s get one thing straight. - Zoro grabs your chin, making you look at him as he undresses himself. - You’re not the one giving orders tonight. Dare I even say… - he throws his shirt away, his piercing gaze sending arrows set in flame towards you that warmed your body, put your soul through catharsis and brought you back to life.

… you’re my good girl whom I’m gonna fuck all night long. That is, if you’re good enough to take me.”

You get distracted by his muscular figure, getting temped to touch him all over but didn’t want to come across as too needy. Zoro reads you like an open book, thus he takes your hand and brushes it off against his abs, going lower to his abdomen where you grab his belt, earning a small groan from him.

“I can take you. - when he hears your words, his mind goes crazy. Blood flowing in all the right places as his naked torso touches yours. - All night long.”

Zoro looks at you and sighs:

“So fucking hot. - he begins to kiss you, his hand caressing your waist and slowly travelling behind your back. His cold hands make you arch it. There’s where your lower body meet his and you both let out a moan that turns in a whine from your side as you begin to grind against him. - Fuck.”

Your hands travel all over his back, digging your nails there as you feel his hand making its way down your body. You take a grip of his arm and look into his eyes. That stops Zoro who widens his with worry.

“Everything alright?” - he asks, his other hand putting some strands of hair behind your ear.

“Yes it’s just, if you go down there… - you blush, looking at him all innocently which catches Zoro a bit off guard. - you won’t be able to live without me from now on.”

“You’re so cocky. - he rolls his eyes with a smile. - Also, are you sure about that?”

His fingers start rubbing your pussy, feeling the fabric of the panties already being wet.

“Judging by your excitement, - he whispers in your ear as he continues to touch you. - you’re the one who may never recover from me.”

His body slides down, his hand take a hold of your thighs and parting them away. You follow and give in to his movements as you watch his satisfied expression.

“Good girl. - Zoro’s head is now between your legs, biting your panties down. Now you’re shading below him bare naked, a view of which he takes a little time to grasp completely. - Giving me such a nice reward, I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

You gulp hard, feeling his hand on your clit, starting running circles while the other one teasing your entry with two fingers.

His hot and heavy breath gives you tingles. You lick and bite your lip, taking in a deep breath as the satisfaction of him playing with you like this.

“Damn, baby, - he opens your folds with his mouth, grinding his fingers up and down. - you’re really holding yourself back, huh?”

You feel your clit hardening as the pace of his rubbing increases. Now his two fingers go in only slightly, his eyes looking up at your reaction.

“Mhm! - you whine, grabbing your hair as you contain your moans, although the feeling was already intense. Seeing Zoro like this, eager to please you, wanting to make love to you in the best way possible, especially after waiting for so long; all these made this moment way hotter and your legs soon enough began shaking.

“There I go. - he says, inserting his two fingers in you, taking a second before pulling them in and out in a slow pace. - Is it fine?”

You nod, covering your face that had gotten so red that making eye contact with Zoro right now would send you down to the dungeon of horny jail.

Once he realises you’re comfortable, he increases his pace, mouth approaching closer as he begins to suck on your clit, making you moan uncontrollably. You now grab into his hair, accidentally squishing him between your thighs but it looked like Zoro did not mind at all.

He eats you out like an animal, moreover he’s so turn on that soon enough he insets another finger in you, making your throat go sore from all the moaning.

“Fuck yes, yes, - you shout enthusiastically, caressing Zoro’s head as his tongue works magic on you. He slaps your thighs and parts them, going even deeper with his fingers as his mouth on your clit is already taking you to a close climax. - Zoro, I’m -!

You feel him cussing under his breath, feeling the need to eat you more before you climax. However, you finish on him, leaving out a loud sound as your body completely surrenders, eyes envisioning stars and your legs finally stop moving out of your will.

However, you still felt like you wanted something more. You wondered what was missing.

You open your eyes to see Zoro undressing his lower body, revealing his thickness to you.

Of course, it was exactly how you’ve imagined it every time you touched yourself thinking about him.

“All for you, captain…- he says, grabbing your body with one hand, while the other held his own cock. - you want this, don’t you?”

He asks and you nod desperately.

“Don’t you? - he asks again, his voice stern. - right baby, say it, I know you want to say it.”

“Yes… I do…” - you voice shakes as it comes out more as a whisper which could barely get heard. Zoro raises his eyebrow as he begins stroking his dick, looking straight into your eyes.

“Swallow your pride, captain. - he says with a smug expression on his face. - Show me how much of a good, needy slut you really are.”

You try to control your urges, but seeing him touch himself like that: he was standing on his knees bare naked in front of you. Not only as his torso like it as sculptured like a ancient hero by a Greek artist, but his cock already hard and ready to devour you whole was so close to your entrance that it wasn’t a want anymore, it was a need to have him inside you where he belongs.

“Yes please, give it to me. Please…” -you whine, grabbing your boobs and caressing them while biting your lip. Goodness, you were getting off only with the idea of Zoro being in you.

“So pretty when you beg like that. So needy, so desperate… an infamous pirate like you, wanting to get dicked down so badly. The reputation would precede you, sweetheart. - he teases the entrance with his tip. - tell me, baby. How do you want it? - he slides it in in a slowly agitating pace.

“Then you tell me I’m cocky, don’t look down on me like that, pirate hunter.” - your eyes stare at him. When everyone else would be terrified and intimidated, Zoro is incredibly turned on by your strong composure.

“Oh I’m hunting right now alright a pirate whom I can’t stop looking down at - he scans your body slowly with his eyes. - I can’t help it when she’s so stunning. Plus, don’t worry baby, no one will know. All your moans and screams will remain here, between us.” - he winks and you smile whilst rolling your eyes. His eyes are focused on you alone, a small moment passing before he closes his eyes in pleasure as he asks:

“Do you want me to make love to you gently and slowly?” - his length finally reaches deep within, making Zoro leave out a groan. He tilts his head back, taking his hand off and putting both of them around your hips. He begins to thrust slowly, enabling you to get accustomed to his size. Of course it doesn’t go unnoticed how satisfied you already looked, it felt like you were finally compete. His cock conquering your walls inside, each movement making your legs shake and your mind go absolutely insane, so much so that your body is screaming his name and your hands are so desperate to grab anything that would give you the change to express how good you’re feeling right now. However, you heard his question and smirked.

“Zoro, you… you keep saying I shouldn’t give orders tonight but… - you struggle to speak as the pleasure starts building up. - here’s an order that I’m sure you’ll like… - you reach your hand to him, grabbing his neck as tightly as you can consider the distance. - … Fuck me like you’ve been waiting to, I know you’ve been thinking…. thinking of me… ahh shit…”

Your breath gets heavy as you cover your bashful face with your hand, biting your lip from the excitement you were feeling even with such a gentle pace. It was easy to tell that Zoro was holding himself back but once he hears your words, he grins and touches the hand which was holding a grip on his neck.

“Hold on tight then, babe. - his hand goes under your back, holding your body tight while his other hand rested against the mattress. Zoro’s eyes look into yours as he leans in for a small peck on the lips. - How can I say no when you ask me with those eyes of yours like that? I’ve decided what you deserve.”

He buries his face on your neck as the pace of his thrusts increases, making you gasp and moan while removing the grip you had on his neck and placing your hands on his back. You just loved touching his wide shoulders and exploring all that you could in that moment. It was easy to feel safe in his arms, the way your bodies communicated through sex was heavenly.

Zoro groans in your ear, his hot breath burning your neck whilst he kisses it. You nails scratch his skin while you moan his name with each thrust that touches deep within you, unlocking new sensations that you have never experienced before and never thought were possible.

“Mhmm, please…. please …” - you whine, feeling your body move along with each of his movements.

“Ahhh, fuck baby, you’re so…” - words seem to had gotten stuck in his throat as he stands up and starts pushing your hips up and down with the rhythm.

The feeling of ecstasy overtakes as you stare at Zoro who had such a lewd expression on his face. It immediately turns you on, thus you push his chest, making him fall on his back on the bed as you top over him. readjusting your position. He widens his eyes and smirks, pushing his hair back while scanning your body from a different angle.

“I knew it wouldn’t be long until you take charge.” - he says, holding your waist and caressing it with his thumbs.

“You’ve said some very nice things to me today, and I did promise to reward you so… - you run your hands all over his chest, arching your back. - Sit back and relax, love. Promise you’re gonna enjoy it.”

Zoro smirks, glancing at your boobs which began to shake as you began immediately jumping on his dick, one hand resting on his abs and one on his inner thigh which you grab to hold on to.

His moans are music to your ears, by those alone you would reach your orgasm sooner than expected. Seeing such a tough guy being so vulnerable is such a rare sight and for sure one to remember.

Your hips began to move forward and back, giving Zoro such a good feeling that his big hand reach to hold your boobs, tightly squeezing them which earns a big moan from you.

“Zoro… - you moan, playing with your hair as you both stare intensely at each other’s eyes. - Your big cock is made for me.”

The swordsman gulps hard, moving one of his hands on your neck, thumb reaching your lower lip and pulling it down:

“What else? - he says between heavy breaths. - Use your pretty mouth to talk dirty to me like that.”

You part your legs further, pushing your body a bit lower to allow more movement and intensity in each jump of yours. Riding his dick like crazy, you grab his finger and put it on your mouth, sucking and licking it.

“This pretty mouth can do many things, - you say, using his finger to run it down to your nipples, moaning as his wet fingertip rubs them. - if only I could show you…”

Once Zoro hears these words from you, he starts thrusting harder, catching you a bit off guard but soon that expression of surprise turns into complete bliss as your hips are completely under control and when you thought this couldn’t feel any better, Zoro proves that it’s not just three swords that he’s good at using.

“Ah ah ah… - you let out screams, holding now tight into his biceps while leaning in close to his face. - Yes, baby just like that…”

You say breathily and kiss him, so deeply and so passionately that your tongues not only fight for dominance, but gently engage with each other, a connection that reflected your relationship perfectly.

There are small breaks between the kiss where Zoro whispers to you:

“Amazing… so good… you’re taking me so well.” - his voice shakes as his hands reach behind you and grab your ass, squeezing it tight.

“Say it, come on. Say how hard I’m fuckin you, captain. Come … - he says, grabbing you ass tighter, making you moan uncontrollably.

“Yes, Zoro you’re fucking me so hard i can … I can barely keep myself together…you’re so hnghh..”

He slaps your ass, thrusting even faster and deeper now into you.

“Ah, so what, baby? So… so what?” - you’re both very stimulated and both coming close.

“You’re so hot, Zoro. Please, keep on going, don’t stop! I’m so close!” - you shout, whining and winning a satisfying smile from your man.

“Such a good girl you are, - he says, putting some strands of hair behind your ear. - Let me see your pretty face while you come all over my cock.”

“Ahh, - you smile as he gives a final thrust, feeling him also come in you, making your whole drip out with semen once you get up. - you haven’t had this much release in a while, huh?”

You tease him, seeing a relieved expression on his face as he tries to catch his breath.

“You drive me absolutely insane. - Zoro says, looking down at his cock being soaking wet with your juices. - you’ve made a mess out of me.”

“Sorry, babe. - you smirk, reaching out your hand. - let me clean it up for you.”

Your tongue begins licking his tip, sucking on it for a bit before going fully on him. Your mouth absolutely devours it, feeling it reach deep down your thirst already but that doesn’t intimidate you.

“Damn, - you hear Zoro cuss out. - this is the best … night of my life…”

You start sucking on him like your life depended on it. His moans and expressions were catalysts of your arousal as you begin to touch yourself as well.

“When you sound like this, Zoro… - you stop for a moment to show the swordsman what all your hands are doing. - you do things to me no man alive can even dream of doing.”

“Oh… do I now? - he says between heavy breaths and moans, reaching his arm in need of touching you, to which you surrender. He runs his fingers through your hair and speaks softly - do you know what you do to me then, my prettiest?”

You can’t even reply, the way you’re feeling can’t even be compared to anything else. His heartbeat is going fast beyond limits whilst his lower lip is bruised from all the biting.

“What… what do I do to you…. Tell me everything while i am taking you like this. Tell me…” - you start stroking him, looking into his eyes as you tease his tip with your thumb.

“Your love disarms me completely. A simple touch of yours …is enough to bring me back to life. My eyes had gone sore without seeing your smile, without meeting your eyes in the sunset where the sun writes poems in them… you’re the fairytale bliss of my life. If my heart …could speak I’m sure you’d understand that I am desperately in love with you. I’m in love with you… ahhh…” - Zoro confesses with much difficult as you lick his dick all over before feeling him getting close again.

Your expression softens. Finally listening to the words you’ve been dreaming every night of hearing from the man you fell in love with. Yes, you fell in love with him, in his arms the first time you met and the intense tight grip your heart felt the moment his eyes met yours did not get any lighter until today, when you saw Zoro again, realising that your heart finds peace with him, where he is.

“When you say stuff like that, you make me the happiest in the world. - you say, groping and playing with his balls, getting a loud groan from Zoro. - Fuck baby, let me make you feel good, let me reward you right for being so good to me.”

Your tongue does magic to him as Zoro comes again, this time all over your face.

You wipe the semen out of your lips with your tongue, climbing up his body as giving him a peck on as Zoro tries to get a hold of this experience that seems too good to be true.

“Captain, - he sighs with a smile. - you did so… so fucking good tonight… goodness…”

“It’s a good ride only if it’s a good ship, if you know what I mean..” - you smirk, Zoro getting up and grabbing your waist with one hand, making you sit on his. You both chuckle as he teases your waist a little, making you feel ticklish as a brief moment passes when he looks lovingly at your eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving tomorrow.”- his expression turns into a desperate one as you run your fingers through his hair. You don’t respond and Zoro rests his head on your chest.

#zoro x you #roanoa zoro #opla zoro #op zoro #one piece zoro #zoro #zoro x y/n #reader insert #opla smut #opla x reader #zoro one piece

[asadfangirlbitxh]

Blogmas #2 2023

Underrated Disney movies that I love

1) Big Hero 6

This movie always makes me cry like a baby

2) Dinosaur

Before Disney Plus, I swear I had thought I dreamt this movie. Because no one else seemed to remember it. But honestly this movie makes me cry so much. Like definitely worth a watch

3) The Wild

This was clearly Disney's attempt to compete with Madagascar. But it was a cute attempt, nostalgia is definitely helping this but it's definitely a classic

But the iconic dialogue lives in my head.

"who knows how to stere?"

"we are animals"

"so none of us"

4) 101 Dalmatians

Cruella Deville is a bop. And i have to say the movie is so aesthetically pleasing. It makes me happy to see all those little puppies just vibing as the adults scramble to save them

5) Atlantis; the lost empire

This movie made me bisexual

6) The Emperor's new groove

This movie made me the person I am today. It's the perfect combination of heart, humor and just utter ridiculousness. This movie genuinely feels like a warm hug of my childhood after a particularly hard day

7) the Rescuer series

Under movie which I was convinced for the longest time was a fever dream. I love that they made this film. It broke my heart to see both those children and how the adults in their life let them down but it made me the person I am today. I work in healthcare to make sure that no child ever feels like that. So this movie really is worth the watch..brilliantly written just deserves so much more credit

8) The Hunchback of Notre Dame

First of all, the crush I had on Esmeralda is unreal. Like she is so pretty. Also, i love how they showed that she didn't love Quasimodo but not because he was ugly but he just wasn't the person for her. Also the villian death was so Amazing. I was so happy when that mother ducker perished

Also god helped the outcasts deserves an Oscar

.

9) Brother Bear

Another story that makes.me cry. And i love the portrayal of Native American lore compared to Pocahontas where there was a glamoroisation of the coloniser. The ending always gets me and makes.me an ugly crying mess

Also the iconic "stop.telling people I'm dead" meme

10) Robin Hood

The humor in this movie is unmatched. I had the biggest crush on Robin. He was so smooth and those eyes. Sir! Omg please.

Also i think it's so well written which can't be said for some Disney movies

#blogmas 2023 #blogmas #Disney #big hero 6 #dinosaur #dinosaur 2000 #the wild #101 dalmatians #atlantis the lost empire #the emperors new groove #rescuers down under #the rescuers #the hunchback of notre dame #brother bear #robin hood #disney 100

[alittlehurtwithyourcomfort]

kdrama whump recs: found family/team as family edition

Found family/team as family is my favorite trope, and when it’s combined with whump it’s even better! So, without further ado, here are some of my favorite whumpy kdramas featuring these tropes! (This list is not a ranking!)

1. The Uncanny Counter (2021)

Age Rating: TV-14

Synopsis: So Mun is an orphaned high-school student who suddenly gains supernatural powers. Soon after, the local noodle-shop employees recruit him into their team of “Counters”, where he begins to learn of the evil spirits roaming around town. 

Notes: This was actually my first-ever kdrama! It’s a great blend of action, drama, and comedy. It also has one of the most unique “magic” systems I’ve seen, with the “Counters” each connected to a spirit in the afterlife. It’s also extremely whumpy, with a lot of comfort and care given to the characters. Definitely recommend.

 Here is a whumplist by @love-me-a-lotta-whump

Here is a whumplist for Season 2!

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2. Bulgasal: Immortal Souls (2021)

Age Rating: TV-MA

Synopsis: Dan Hwal has lived for the past 600 years as a Bulgasal—a mythical creature that feeds off human blood and is cursed with immortality. Eventually, he connects with his reincarnated family, along with a formerly immortal woman. 

Notes: This show is pretty complex and can get confusing at times. It’s also heartbreaking, but the characters make up for it! There’s a TON of whump for both characters shown in the GIF above. 

Here is a whumplist by @love-me-a-lotta-whump

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3. Mystic Pop-Up Bar (2020)

Age Rating: TV-MA

Synopsis: Han Kang-bae is a young man with the ability to make people confess their deepest troubles with a single touch, but this power isn’t always a gift to him. One night, he meets the mysterious owner of a pop-up bar, a woman who must settle the grudges of 100,000 souls in order to gain a peaceful place in the afterlife. 

Notes: This show isn’t the most whumpy on this list by any means, but it still has a good amount! What stood out to me were the relationships between the main trio of characters and how close they become with each other over the course of the show. No spoilers here, but this drama does involve reincarnation... 

Here is a whumplist by @whumperfect

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4. While You Were Sleeping (2017)

Age Rating: TV-14

Synopsis: Three young adults discover that they all have the same ability: seeing the future in their dreams. As a trio, they work together to attempt to change these (sometimes terrible) visions and save each other from harm. 

Notes: Though this show is more focused on the romance between Jae-chan and Hong-joo, there are some great moments of found family feels between the main trio, sometimes including Jae-chan’s little brother and a different character who somewhat acts as a father figure. Pretty whumpy show that I absolutely adored watching! (Plus, the cast is STELLAR! I mean, Suzy, Jong-suk, and Jae-in together in a drama? It’s so good.)

Here is a whumplist by @whumpalot

Here is a whumplist by @thewhumpyrabbit

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5. Tomorrow (2022)

Age Rating: TV-MA

Synopsis: Choi Jun-woong is a young man struggling to find a job, but when he falls into a coma after an unfortunate accident, he’s offered a place on the Risk Management Team as a temporary grim reaper. Together, they help save people from s*icide.

Notes: Possibly my most favorite kdrama ever! It has more emotional whump than physical for the most part, but it’s so amazingly done. The main trio (plus another character, later in the show) have such great platonic chemistry, and even though they have conflicts, you can tell they all truly care for each other even after a short amount of time. (Rowoon’s acting talents are really highlighted in this show, as well as the other main leads!)

Here is a whumplist I made! 

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6. The Devil Judge (2021)

Age Rating: TV-14

Synopsis: This series is set in a dystopian version of South Korea, where the people live in chaos and corruption runs rampant. Trials are held through a courtroom live show aired on television, led by "The Devil Judge”.

Notes: This show is very dark, but has an interesting dynamic between the characters that evolves and grows over the course of the show. The characters are complex and imperfect, and though their conflicts are intense, it just makes the domestic moments so much better because of it. It has some good whump for the two main characters, and of course, Jin-young is an added bonus.

Here is a whumplist by @whumpslist​

_____________________________________________________

7. He is Psychometric (2019)

Age Rating: TV-14 

Synopsis: Lee Ahn is a young man with the ability to read the memories of any object or person he touches. He begins to train his powers in order to help solve crimes and get justice for the death of his parents. 

Notes: One of my favorite kdramas ever and a must-watch for anyone in the kdrama whump community. Fair warning, this show will absolutely shatter your heart, but it has such a great storyline with many twists and turns. This is a complex found family, and though the show does have a romance, it’s a really good one. Also, there’s SO MUCH WHUMP! Like in every single episode. It’s truly amazing. Jin-young never fails to amaze me with his acting. 

Here is a whumplist by @love-me-a-lotta-whump

_____________________________________________________

Alright, that’s the end of the list (at least for now)! If you have any recommendations for more whumpy found family/team as family kdramas, please comment them or send me them! <3

#kdramas #kdrama #kdrama whump #kdrama whump recs #whump #whumpy #whump community #whump recs #whumpy shows #whumplist #whumplists #the uncanny counter #bulgasal #mystic pop up bar #while you were sleeping #tomorrow kdrama #the devil judge #he is psychometric

[amhrosina]

Little One (The Artist and the Sea, Pt. 2) - Namor x f!Reader

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: A commenter on ao3 mentioned that I should write a follow up to The Artist and the Sea where reader & Namor have a child and are teaching them how to swim and paint and I quite literally sprinted to my computer to write it. Both part 1 and part 2 can be read as stand alone fics!

(Courtesy of Ladymage93 on ao3)

Part 1

Summary: When you met Namor on the beach, you never expected it to change your life forever. When your first child with him gets old enough, you both decide to teach her about your favorite things to do: swimming and painting.

(Warnings: domestic bliss, daddy!Namor (no literally, he’s a dad), very tiny allusion to smut but no actual smut, can y’all tell I just saw Avatar 2 lol, just a little glimpse into reader/Namor’s life as parents, mentions of pregnancy)

“Ma'alo'ob k'iin, princesa.” (Good morning, princess.)You murmured, running your hand along the curve of your sleeping daughter’s forehead. The language native to your husband’s people, technically your people for seven years now, flows from your tongue in a familiar pattern. You had hoped that your attempt at speaking it around Atziri, or Ziri for short, from a young age would encourage her to speak both Yucatec Maya and English. Along the way, you’d grown comfortable speaking it, enough so that you could freely converse with Namor in his native language.

Ziri hazily blinked awake, glancing around her bedroom with young and curious eyes. She was a marvel to anyone who laid eyes on her. Half-god, half-human, and full of youth and rigor that only a six-year-old could maintain. She was the perfect combination of you and Namor, though you swore she glowed with the strength and intelligence of her father.

“Is papaj (dad) back yet?” She asked, the ebbs of sleep still present in her voice.

In truth, Namor had returned late last night, carefully tiptoeing across the house towards the library-turned bedroom you were waiting for him in. He hadn’t said anything other than a soft murmur about not wanting to wait until the morning to see you before crawling into bed next to you. The soft glow of the moon lit the bedroom, and if the moon could speak, she’d tell a tale of intertwined limbs, hands in hair, and a love so raw and intimate and palpable that even she couldn’t turn away from it.

“Je'el (Yes),” you nodded, grinning, “He’s waiting for you on the beach.”

Ziri shot out of her bed like a spring, bouncing around her room on one foot as she tried to find her other flipflop. You watched her tiny figure dart around the room, gathering anything she might need for her big day: a hair-tie to tie off the end of her braid (just in case the one she was currently wearing broke), a pair of goggles (just in case the saltwater hurt her eyes), a seashell she’d found on the beach (just in case a sea creature needed a home). She had always loved the water and all its living things, something Namor took great pride in. One day, she’d rule Talokan, and you were doing everything in your power to help her grow into a fair and mighty leader.

That fair and mighty leader was currently halfway across the living room, darting towards the door with half a pair of flipflops on.

“Ziri!” You called in a melodic tune. She turned and giggled as you waved her other flipflop in your hand. You tossed it across the room and watched as she slipped her tiny foot into it.

“Go, little one. Papaj (dad) is waiting.” You nodded your head towards the door. She didn’t need any more coaxing. She was out the door in a flash, galloping across the sand like a wild horse towards Namor, who was patiently waiting at the water’s edge for his mini-me to meet him.

Today was the day Namor was teaching Ziri how to swim, and to say you were nervous about it was putting it lightly. She’d swum in pools before and had even been to Talokan with Namor more than a few times, but she’d never swum freely in the open ocean, and you were terrified.

You followed her down the beach, watching as she jumped into Namor’s arms. He swung her around, laughing at her rambunctious energy so early in the morning. Namor grinned as she ran towards the water, so eager to get started. You stopped at Namor’s side, eyeing Ziri in the water.

“Don’t worry, pétalo (petal). She is one with the water. She will be fine. And I’ll be there, too, just in case.”

“I know, pixan (my soul). I’m not worried.” Your lips tightened into a smile, an all too easy tell that Namor recognized when you weren’t being truthful.

He shifted his weight, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. You rested your head on his shoulder and sighed.

“Why do you worry, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo'?”

“She’s growing up really fast.” You muttered.

“Je’el. (Yes)” He responded, nodding. “But she will always be our little one. This is a big step for her. She will have to know how to navigate the ocean when she is ruling Talokan.”

“I know.” You agreed, though that didn’t stop the concern coursing through your veins. Namor turned, fully facing you before cupping your cheeks in his hands. He pressed a soft kiss to your nose and lifted your face so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“Leti' jach poderosa. (She is mighty.) Like her mother. She will be fine.” He murmured.

You sighed, nodding. You didn’t doubt that Namor would protect Ziri, and he did have a point. Ziri had a lot to learn before she could inherit Talokan.

“Be safe, pixan (my soul).” You gave him a reassuring smile before planting a soft kiss on his lips.

“Mantats’, in yakunaj. (Always, my love.)”

Namor took Ziri’s hand and led her further into the sea. You watched their heads bob around in the water until you couldn’t see them anymore. You couldn’t tell if it was because they were so far out or if they had decided to dive deeper, but either way, you watched until long after they were gone.

-

You were finishing up a painting that you’d been working on for a few months when you heard the familiar splashing of Namor exiting the water, though this time, it was combined with the sound of tiny feet following him. You set your paintbrush down and wiped your paint-covered hands on your coveralls as they entered the house, so hyper that you could almost feel the electric energy bouncing off them.

“Na'! Ilmaj jump'éel ballena jach nojochi' bey k otoch! (Mom! We saw a whale as big as our house!)”

“No way!” You grinned as Ziri held her arms wide above her head to emphasize the size of the whale.

Namor kissed your cheek in greeting and tilted his head toward Ziri, who had quickly become engrossed in the painting you’d been polishing up when they returned home. It was a painting of Talokan, though no one in the world besides Namor and Ziri would recognize it.

Ziri leaned closer to the painting, narrowing her eyes as she analyzed the brush strokes. She may have looked six, but sometimes, in an eerie fashion, she’d give off the aura of an old woman, wise beyond her years.

“Wotoch.” You murmured. Home.

Namor smiled and cupped your cheeks, bringing his lips to meet yours in a warm, loving kiss.

“Can you teach me, Na’?” Ziri asked, glancing at you with her beautiful eyes that mirrored Namor’s. You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t swell with pride when she asked. Your first love had been a trepid affair between a paintbrush and a canvas, and you had always hoped Ziri might like it too.

“Of course, little one.” You nodded, “But first, dinner.”

-

“If you hold your wrist like this,” you motioned for Ziri to mimic you, “the paintbrush is easier to control.”

She eased the tension in her wrist and focused on the canvas in front of her. You were sidled beside her, walking her through the basics of a landscape painting one step at a time. She had picked up on the brushstrokes fairly quickly for a girl of six, but she was used to being a fierce and powerful storm like her father. Even the best artists would not be as talented as they are without understanding the ease in which you must hold your paintbrush. When the brush becomes an extension of your hand, and it suddenly feels less mechanical and more playful, is when you know you’re creating something magnificent.

“Which painting is your favorite, Na'? (mom)” She asked, looking around the studio in wonder.

“Of mine?” You clarified.

“Je’el. (Yes)”

“The one in the hallway by the door. Of papaj (dad). I started it the day I met him. I saw him and felt like I might die if I didn’t paint him.”

A deep voice rumbled from behind you, startling both you and Ziri. “And then she bewitched me with her talent, and I have loved her ever since.”

Namor wrapped his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked over Ziri’s canvas.

“How come you don’t ever paint me, Na' (mom)?”

You wiggled your fingers at her, the tell-tale sign that you were about to tickle her. “Because you don’t sit still long enough for me to paint you, little one.”

She jumped from her seat, running out of the room with a shrieked giggle. You grinned as she catapulted herself onto the couch. The truth is you had tried to paint her a million times, but you’d never been able to do her angel face justice. Every time you managed to finish sketching her face, you’d notice a slight imperfection in your pencil markings and start all over again. Namor was all too aware of this, but he didn’t mention it to Ziri. You would keep that to yourself until you were confident enough to finally paint her.

“Do you think she likes it?” Namor asked, eyeing the canvas she had left half-finished, but well painted thus far.

“I hope so.” You murmured, leaning into his chest. “She’s very good.”

“She gets it from you, pétalo (petal).”

“You’re too kind, pixan (my soul).”

“Soon, I will have two ki'ichpam artistas (beautiful artists) to share my life with.”

“What if you had three?” You asked, suddenly feeling guilty for hiding what you’d confirmed a few nights ago after peeing on the little pink stick you’d bought in town.

“What?” He asked, confusion clear in his tone.

You spun around in your chair to face him. His eyebrows were knit together as he scanned your face in uncertainty.

“If you had three artists, instead of two. Would that be a good thing?” You asked, unsure if he’d react positively to the news. You’d never discussed having another child together. Hell, you hadn’t discussed having Ziri either, but he had been overjoyed when you’d confirmed your pregnancy with her.

“Are you pregnant, pétalo (petal)?”

“Yes.” You blurted out, breathing a sigh of relief. You’d been holding the information in for days, and it felt good to finally tell someone else.

“Mierda. (Holy shit.)” He grinned, wrapping his hands around yours and bringing them up to his lips to kiss them. “I would love three artists, pétalo (petal). I would love a hundred of them if that’s what would make you happy.”

“You make me happy, Namor.” A shy grin made its way across your face. “You and Ziri. And this little one.” You patted your stomach. You couldn’t be more than 8 weeks along, but you already felt a connection to whoever it was making a home in your womb.

“Then let it be so.” He murmured, gently placing his hand on your stomach.

Those faint butterflies, the ones that had plagued you when you first met Namor and didn’t know how much he’d grown to care for you, erupted in your stomach at the thought of expanding your family further. Once again, and forever after, you gave into them and pulled him in for a kiss.

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#namor #namor mcu #namor black panther #namor x reader #namor x you #namor x oc #k’uk’ulkan #tenoch huerta #black panther 2 #black panther #marvel fanfiction #namor imagine #namor fanfiction #tenoch huerta x reader #tenoch huerta x you #namor fic #namor fluff #marvel #marvel imagine #black panther fic #namor angst #requested #wakanda forever #amhrosina

[buckyr00s]

Call Sign: FANBOY

pairing: Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia x Reader

summary: There are reasons why Mickey Garcia got the call sign he did. But maybe the most important one...is you.

warnings/tags: short and sweet fluff, possible canonical inaccuracies (?), a lil meta

author’s note: I really thought my first writing post would be about Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, or Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw considering my URL but there is a severe lack of Fanboy content on this website. Also, I’m not sure if some of the stuff I wrote is canonically correct but it is what it is lol A special thank you to @bradshawsbaby​ for all your support and help. Thank you, thank you! Hope you all enjoy :)

READ PART TWO HERE

main masterlist || send requests

There’s no denying that Mickey Garcia is a damn good WSO. Despite being one of the youngest in his Top Gun cohorts, he is one of the best the US Navy’s ever seen. Being one the best, however, does not make him immune to the teasing that comes with Naval camaraderie. That’s very evident in his call sign: FANBOY.

When anyone asks him about the origins of his call sign, he’ll recite an answer he’s handcrafted ever since the name was assigned to him. First, he’ll blame his age. As one of the youngest, Mickey automatically got the ‘little brother’ designation and the treatment that goes along with that. 

He’ll bring up his first time around at Top Gun and the frequent pranks that his buddies would pull on him. He’ll talk about the one time his friends broke into his locker to orchestrate a surprise--fake--spider prank, criticizing their lack of originality. To be fair, his combination was his birthday, so it wasn’t the best security measure on his part. He’ll usually leave that detail out, but when he does let it slip, he’ll immediately make it clear that he’s learned his lesson.

He’ll recount how in opening his locker, his friends were greeted by a gallery of photos of his family, his friends, his love, and...still photos of Top Gun (1986). “Listen, that movie changed lives,” he’ll justify. “And it’s not like I’m the only one who wanted to join the Navy after watching it”. He’s right, but still. FANBOY strike 1.

Then, he’ll talk about how they also stumbled on his CD collection. Yes, he is the type of person who in a time when digital streaming has made CDs virtually obsolete, continually purchases, collects, and frequently uses CDs. “They’re cool to have and something I can pass down,” he shrugs. On top of that, though, the man kept the CDs in his locker. “For convenience,” he’ll stress. “Everyone loves a good playlist.” FANBOY strike 2.

He’ll mention how his friends explain what they did next. He was told that when people discover a collection, naturally, there’s a desire to go through it. And that’s what his buddies did. Led Zeppelin. Jimi Hendrix. Stevie Wonder. Selena. Bob Dylan. The Jackson 5. Nirvana. Bad Bunny. Jay-Z. BTS. Backstreet Boys. Carrie Underwood. N*SYNC. JLO. He especially got teased for the last few. FANBOY strike 3.

But most of all, he got teased for a certain CD. It was a blank CD, the cover flipped to its blank side. Written in Sharpie, the cover read, “To Star, from your biggest fan”. Surrounding the writing were the attempts of heart and star doodles, though they looked more like guitar picks and sparks. He tried his best. But it was clear what it was: a mixtape.

He’ll describe how his friends must have scrambled, forgetting about the prank they planned to execute. He’ll think about how they must have decided that the more appealing option was to dive deeper into their discovery. They probably slammed his locker shut, sprinting to the lounge to pop the CD into the CD player. Mickey imagines his friends huddled around the speaker, leaning closely and intently as they anticipated what they would hear. 

The first few seconds were silent.

Then a rustling. 

A deep breath in. 

And out.

“Hi baby. I miss you so much. I know the distance has been as tough on you as it has been for me. But I want to thank you for always being there. For supporting me. And as we continue to follow our dreams separately, just know that I think of you constantly. That you and our future together are always on my mind. That I’m so proud of you for doing your thing and admire you so much for it. I’m your biggest fan, forever and always. Sky’s the limit with you and me, Star. I love you.”

And with that, Berlin’s Take My Breath Away starts to play. FANBOY strike... it probably isn’t quantifiable at this point.

My God, did that really take his friends’ breaths away. Mickey was told that they didn’t know whether to cringe, laugh, or sympathize. So...they stayed frozen.

A few bars into the song, he walked into the lounge, drawn by the familiar tune. He found them all gathered around the CD player, eyes wide and jaws dropped. Processing.

“What’s going on?” he gently asked, apprehension and suspicion radiating off of him.

Collectively, his friends’ eyes trail from their stare at the CD player to his confused face. Mickey will describe how he saw it happen in slow motion. He’ll paint the exact moment he figured out what his friends discovered and how they’d next respond. He says he had a millisecond to prepare himself.

Then, the room erupted. His friends jumped up, whooping, hollering, whistling, cackling, making smooching noises. They called him whipped. Love struck. But what can he say? He’s a fanboy.

author’s note: Andddd that’s it. That’s my first writing post. Hope you like it! I have ideas for what would happen when Fanboy introduces Star!Reader to his Navy friends. I would love any comments and feedback, as well as any requests you might have! 

Also a special thank you, again, to @bradshawsbaby​ for the idea of Fanboy making a mixtape for his love and his friends finding it. Such a cute, funny, and fitting idea. Thank you, thank you!

READ PART TWO HERE

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#mickey fanboy garcia #fanboy #mickey garcia #fanboy garcia #danny ramirez #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #fanboy x reader #mickey garcia x reader #fanboy garcia x reader #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #tgm #tg:m

[wibixthecowboy]

Play the Song: Chapter 13: Sweet like Candy

Task Force 141 needs a new sniper and despite their complaints, they're assigned Flash, a joke-making, ABBA-listening, 20-year-old sharpshooter with better aim than the whole team combined. In other words, Ghost is practically handed the love of his life but he needs time to adjust because she's a firecracker.

Warnings/Tags: !graphic depictions of panic attacks!, references to suicide attempts (no descriptions), references to SA (no descriptions), Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, justified angst, tooth rotting fluff, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, wholesome brother Gaz, touch starved Ghost, eventual smut, praise, choking, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), size kink, oral f receiving, ghost will do anything to get his dick sucked, idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV  

A/N: Holy Fuck. Excuse my language but jesus. That last quarter literally gutted me. BUT I PERSIST. Here is what I think is the longest chapter by far? idk I haven't checked. Thank you for sticking around for so long. Smooches for everyone, enjoy! Also! I know the chapter links are broken :( , I'll fix them asap!

Words: 7.8k

Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

@urfavsunkissedleo@butskii@abbiesxox@itsasecrets-things@thatonewriterthatnooneknows@copiasratscheese​ @Sheviro-blog @Simonsslvt

★Flash

Dust swirls up into a small cloud, forced into motion by Flash's incessant kicking. It travels a few feet before dissipating into the bitter morning wind. She shivers again in the thin cotton of her pajama shirt and sweats and debates going back in. Debates sliding the small phone back into her pocket, shoving off the single stair in front of the base doors, and throwing herself back into her sheets. They'd be cold by now, it's been nearly an hour since she'd tossed back her blanket, dug the phone out of her duffel bag, and sat herself down outside to call her sister. Well, attempt to call her sister. It's been over five years since they'd last talked, when she'd stuck fifteen-year-old Flash on a transit bus to Arizona with a small backpack of keepsakes and photocopies of her registration papers for the Safford Advanced Military Academy. She’d sent a few letters, from the cramped desk in her first dorm but had never gotten any back. The constant schoolwork was a good distraction but it still stung.

Filling her lungs to a near painful capacity, Flash double checks the faded sticky note her sister had slipped into her pocket so many years ago and then the glowing numbers on her phone before shutting her eyes and jamming her thumb into the call button. Flash's breath is stuck in her throat, stilled in anticipation almost as if its waiting alongside her as the phone rings. Much to her surprise, she picks up by the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

She sticks her head between her knees, absolutely convinced last nights dinner is about to come up but after a few breaths her vision clears and she answers in a rush of air.

"Sarah?"

"Who is this?"

Flash tries to swallow back the disappointment building in her stomach and then,

"Grace? Is that you?"

The dinner does come up now and she barely manages to make it to the sad cluster of shrubs before the sting of bile burns up her throat. The world caves beneath her, sucking her chest through the souls of her feet. It ricochets through her brain, slamming hard at each turn. Grace Grace Grace. She gags again, wiping her mouth on the cold skin of her forearm. 

"Hi." She manages, the sound of her voice echoes between her ears. "Yes its me."

"Are you okay- did you just throw up?" Her sister's voice is calm as always, despite not hearing it for several years, the cooling affect is just the same. Sarah was- is the personification of winter. Cold, calm, and biting if you stayed with it for too long. But she's the only person who's ever been there every time Flash really needed her.

"Yeah, I uh," a burning gasp breaks her words and she realizes she hasn't been breathing. "I don't know I think I ate something funny."

"Okay." There's an awkward pause and when Sarah realizes Flash isn't going to say anything she continues. "Did you need something?"

It's at this moment that Flash remembers why she hadn't ever called. Sarah was an expert at talking people off a ledge. Every time Flash got into a fight, Sarah was able to smooth things over with a carefully plated store-bought box of cookies and a sweet smiled promise. But when it came to dealing with Flash and her inferno of a temper, Sarah chose to sit on the sidelines and watch as Flash burnt herself over and over. If it wasn't causing harm to others, Sarah didn't bother. But years of burning herself meant Flash had developed calluses. 

"Is Taryn there?" The words are bitter, whether from the bile souring her mouth or the stinging disappointment, she doesn’t know.

Taryn was Sarah's on-and-off girlfriend and the only woman in Flash's life that gave her the softness she so desperately craved. If Sarah was winter, Taryn was Spring. On the days she came over, windows were opened, wildflowers were picked, neatly arranged in vases, and dinner was always something with potatoes. Taryn had made their small two-bedroom crash pad into a home. How Taryn and her sister had made it work was beyond her.

"Um- yeah, she's here. One second."

There's a rustling as Sarah drops the phone from her ear and then a murmuring of voices, even through the lowered phone she can hear the way Sarah's voice softens as she speaks to Taryn. She'd never spoken to Flash that way.  

"Gracie?"

"Hello?" Flash's response comes out broken and half-whispered and with all the heavy emotion that she’d secretly hoped she’d feel when speaking with her sister. 

"Gracie! Hi!" Taryn's sweet honey voice pours from the speaker, still soft from sleep and the tears building behind Flash's eyes begin to burn. "How are you, sweetheart? It's been forever."

"Good- good. I've been good." She presses her knuckles against her eyes until colors bloom against the backs of her eyelids, unshed tears wetting her fingers. "I just had a question."

"Oh?" There's another round of rustling and Flash can picture her sitting up in bed, blindly grabbing at her side table before fixing the round pair of tortoiseshell glasses she wore over blinking eyes. 

"And what's your question?"

"When you met Sarah," Flash rubs a hand roughly down her face before glancing around, "how did you know?"

"How did I know what?" Taryn's interest has clearly been piqued.

"You know." She hesitates before sighing and feeling five years younger, mutters, "That you liked her."

"It took having a crush for you to finally call me?"

"I don't know, maybe?" There’s another silence, but unlike with Sarah, Flash know’s it’s Taryn waiting patiently for her to find the words that sometimes tangled themselves when making the journey from brain to tongue. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize honey. I'm glad you did, it's nice to hear your voice." Then she continues on, like it hasn’t been five years, and when she closes her eyes, Flash can see the pink sundress Taryn had worn the last time she’d seen her. The hem had been stained burgandy the week before by Flash’s impatient blackberry painted fingers. "It was kind of love at first sight.”

Flash, either in a desperate attempt to hear to a story not about the plight of terrorists, or simply because Taryn’s voice made the world brighter, listened to her whole story. How when Taryn had met Sarah, she’d been enthralled, and even more so when Flash had threatened to break her arm if Taryn broke Sarah’s heart. How she’d so quickly decided that Sarah was the one for her despite Sarah’s supposed lack of interest and to both Flash and Taryns dismay, her complete and utter denial of being at least bisexual. 

Another kick sends more dirt floating along the breeze and Flash struggles to find a way to ask for advice. ‘I’m actually talking about my lieutenant.’ ‘Oh, you didn’t know? I’m not fifteen anymore, I’ve actually killed several people.’ ‘Anyways, I want to fuck the life out of him but when I touch him he looks like he’s either going to piss his pants or bend me over the counter.’ or maybe just ‘How do I get over the deeply rooted fear of love that my dead father and might-as-well-be-dead sister instilled in me at a young age?’. She’s debating rephrasing the last one when a sharp cry cuts through Taryn’s retelling of her and Sarah’s first date. 

“Is that a baby?” Flash’s voice is sharper than she meant it to be. “Do you have-”

She’s cut off by a fake laugh and a breathily muttered ‘no’. Taryn never cut her off.

“No don’t be silly.” Another nervous laugh. “I have to go, Sarah needs me. But do call again! Let me give you my number so you can call my cell next time.” 

Flash listens numbly as she prattles off a long list of numbers, more focused on the static noise around her words. Waiting to hear another cry. When it doesn’t come Flash just shakes her head and tunes back in just in time to hear Taryn mutter another ‘goodbye’ and the quiet buzz of a dead line.

She blinks a few times, simultaneously overwhelmed and underwhelmed by the call. And then the last few sentences Taryn had left her with slowly start to trickle to the front of her mind. In a rush, Flash flies through the front doors of the base, nearly dropping her phone in the process, grabs a pen from the table and scribbles the number along her forearm, hoping to god she’d remembered it correctly. Hoping she could survive another icily quipped sentence from her sister if not. 

Its then, mouth still gross and breathily reciting Taryn’s number in a desperate attempt to recall the sequence, that the sound of footsteps pulls her attention to the hallway. It’s the team, minus Price who’d left an hour earlier, and only gave Flash a fleeting worried look and a head shake as he passed her on the front steps, to get a headstart in traveling Alejandro’s farmhouse. 

Soap leads the group, hands tucked neatly into the front of his cargo pants. Behind him, Gaz is nearly identical in both stature and clothing, but unlike Soap, his hands fall confidently at his sides. Ghost, seemingly the odd one out, trails a few feet behind, dressed sharply as usual, but there are two distinct purple smudges under his eyes. They pass through the poorly crafted living room before each settling in their respective spots at the table, like an aged high school clique. She’s about to make a remark on this when Soap raises a brow at her. 

“And what are you doin’ lookin’ like that?” His hand waves up and down her body, at it hunched over the table. “We leave in like-” He glances down at his watch, “An hour?”

Ghost sits down heavily in the chair across from her and his eyes almost immediately fall to the messy set of numbers scrawled on her skin. His dark gaze narrows just the slightest bit and Flash can already see him jumping to conclusions. 

“I called my sister.” She blurts out, both to answer Soap and to stop whatever train of thought is starting in Ghost’s head. She’s not sure why she feels the need to defend herself. The three men sitting around her freeze, stopping their respective tasks to listen. “I uh- yeah.” 

“How did it go?” Gaz asks smoothly when the silence has stretched just a few seconds too long. “I didn’t know you had a sister.” 

He slides into the seat next to her, leaning on his arm and giving her just a tad too much concentration. It was times like these when Flash wondered if Gaz operated a black market of gossip, too eager and always asking the right questions. 

“We don’t talk.” Flash’s eyes flick up to see Ghost watching her warily. “Not for five years at least.” 

Gaz raises his brows but doesn’t say anything, just pitches his mouth down in the corner, enough that Flash know’s he’s no longer fishing for details. Part of her wonders just how much he knows.  

She looks across the table at Soap, sitting silent in his chair, picking at his nails, and suddenly becomes aware of the space left between him and Ghost. Now, after hearing Soaps late night confession the day before, the signs are obvious, like Soap has the words ‘I fucked my superior and now we don’t talk about it’ scrawled across his forehead in bright red pen. She clears her throat, 

“It was fine, I just called for-” She hesitates, still not quite sure why she’s telling them this. Maybe Taryn’s sweet tongued optimism rubbed off on her too much. “I just needed some sister advice.” Flash finishes with a shrug, hoping the burn on her cheeks isn’t too obvious. 

“I get that.” Soap starts, and Flash almost jumps at his voice, deep and raspy from sleep. “I’ve got my own sister. She can be annoyin’ as shit but she’s got some good advice.” 

“And what are you getting advice for.” Gaz teases, “You haven’t had game for the last year.” His words falter at the end and Flash doesn’t need any explanation to know he’s talking about Ghost and Soap’s relationship, or whatever the hell Soap had called it. In a quick attempt to smooth things over, she looks expectantly across to Ghost. 

“No. No siblings.” He says, and Flash watches the way his eyes fall to the worn table in front of him.  

“That's too bad.” Flash says, kicking him lightly under the table, “They’re a pain in the ass anyways.” This time, when he glances back up, she smiles at him with her teeth, remembering the way he’d so carefully parted her lips in the bathroom the night before. Something in his gaze shifts and his mouth moves under his mask, pulling up at the corners. But before she can see the full thing, he’s standing and moving towards the kitchen. Glassware clinks around, he pulls one of the bowls from the cupboard and stands at the sink, waiting awkwardly. She catches on a moment later and sits up.

“I’ll go back to my room while you guys eat.” She says, trying not to let the gesture sting too badly. “I’ve got to pack for the trip anyways.” 

As soon as she turns her back, even though she know’s its impossible, the rustling of Ghost pulling off his balaclava echoes through the concrete room. Just incase she has a sudden loss of self control and turns to see him making his breakfast unmasked, Flash speeds up her pace and practically throws herself through her door. 

Leaning against the foot of her bed is an empty duffel bag and next to it a small, half-filled laundry sack. In it are the clothes from that night. Just underwear, a tank top, and her favorite pair of cargo pants. All her other layers had either been torn or cut through. They’d been sent through the wash five times now, but every time she’d braved the task of opening the synched bag, a staggering fear grasped her so tightly that she would pull it shut and give it back to Price. He took it wordlessly every time and they would both pretend. Her muttering something about there still being blood and him nodding while sending it along with the rest of the laundry. Both of them knew the clothes were clean, practically washed thin, but she could smell the brine of the sea, the gory mess of the man as he splattered across her shirt without even opening the bag. 

So instead of kicking it to the side, or ignoring the sad, knowing look in Price’s eyes as she shoves the unopened sack into his hands again, she picks it up and sets it on the unmade sheets of her bed. Her hands shake violently and it almost makes her laugh, how they vibrate when the canvas whispers open.

On the top of the neatly folded pile is a small scrap of notebook paper. When she leans in closer, she can make out a single line of familiar scratchy handwriting ‘you’ve got this kiddo :)’. Tears burn behind her eyes as she picks the note up and sets it aside, reading it one more time before her eyes are too watery to see, and reaches into the bag to pull out the tank top. Her hands still shake, and the fold is done horribly, one strap sits higher up than the other making the whole thing a bit lopsided, but she finishes. The pants follow suit, folded neater this time. She picks them both up, along with the underwear, and shoves them into their respective drawers before leaning heavily against her dresser.

Taking a shaky breath, Flash turns to slide down the side of the solid wood, wedging herself between the wall and dresser she lets her head fall between her knees. There, away from the view of the laundry bag and clothes, she lets the adrenaline drain down her limbs and through her fingertips that rest on the cold floor. It shakes her body and looses a few broken sobs, but she’s alive and the clothes are folded. 

★Ghost

He waits outside of Flash’s door, hand half raised, fingers curled in a fist to knock. Soap had sent him to give her a thirty-minute warning which would now end up being a twenty-five minute warning. Shaking his hand out one more time, he raises his fist, and right as he's about to knock, the door swings open.

Flash stands in front of him, looking down at the duffel bag in her hand. She jerks back when she sees him. Just for a moment, in the few seconds, it takes for her to recover and slide back on her happy-go-lucky smile, he can see the crease at her brow and a small frown tugging the soft shape of her lips down.  

“You ready?” She asks, and Ghost nearly forgets that she is the one they’re waiting on. 

“Yeah.” He starts, and all the confidence he had built, all the words he’d carefully laid out for hours the night before wash away at the sight of her. “We uh- Gaz took the Jeep.” Flash nods for him to continue, and he does after another deep breath. “You, me, and Soap will be taking the truck with the rest of the equipment.” 

Flash watches him carefully, eyes flicking over every inch of skin his mask leaves uncovered. It’s this hungry gaze of hers, the one that scares the shit out of him, that she gives him before responding. Completely ignoring his words. 

“You didn’t sleep?” She says but doesn’t wait for him to answer. “Me neither.”  

Flash shoves her bag into his hand and jogs towards the front door, already arguing with Soap about her “perfectly valid” license. He carries both their bags in one arm and decides that it's the weight of their bags that is slowing him down. Not the fact that Soap reaching the truck first meant he and Flash would be stuck in the back together, strapped to a single bench. He wanted to thank whatever officer had replaced the passenger seat with a now out-of-date comms system.

_____

An hour in, Flash’s cheek is pressed hard into the knuckles of her fist and a shiny patch of drool starting at the corner of her mouth. He both envies her sleep abilities and fears them. 

When his eyes drift back to the landscape outside the windshield, his gaze catches on Soap watching them through the rearview. He struggles to remember if the mirror used to be angled down that far or if Soap had intentionally moved it to watch them. 

“So things are getting pretty serious?” He asks, not taking his eyes off the poorly paved road in front of him. Although he says it jokingly, Ghost can see the underlying curiosity, maybe even a twinge of jealousy. 

“We’re not doing this right now Johnny.” Ghost grumbles, keeping his arms tight over his chest, as if they could create a barrier against Soap’s prying eyes. He knows better. Years of using little to no communication during deployment meant that learning each other's body language was critical, especially in cramped bunks. 

Soap just shakes his head, still not taking his eyes off the road. Ghost can practically watch the countdown until his next snarky remark. A slow scrunch of his brow, followed by a slight downturn of his mouth, before- right on the mark, Soap drags a rough hand down the left side of his face before finally speaking. 

“Has she seen you without your mask?” 

Ghost’s eyes snap to Soap’s, still waiting for biting words to follow, to snap at a tender spot only he knows how to find. Instead it’s something much, much, worse. 

“Just remember what happened last time.”

The words slither through the air between them, squeezing around his ribs before sliding down to stoke the coals of fear burning in his stomach. The cab of the truck is too small and suddenly the heat of Flash’s body pressed so close is so present in his mind that if he doesn’t back away he might just- stop. Stop.

“Pull over.” He mumbles, staring into the dead space between horizon and road. 

Soap obliges wordlessly, slowing the truck to a slow roll before stopping in a cloud of dust on the shoulder. Ghost steps out, stumbling over the edge of the pavement as he braces his hands against his knees and heaves great breaths of warm desert air. 

The sound of a door opening behind him has his shoulders raising to his ears, a poor imitation of hackles. 

“Stop!” He clears his throat before lowering his voice and trying again. “I’m fine. Get back in the truck.” 

But the sound of footsteps persists, light and barely audible, despite the thin layer of gravel coating the road and landscape around them. When he turns, Flash is standing behind him. Her face is pink with sleep, an impression of the seatbelt running from her mouth to her ear, and one side of her hair has been rubbed upward, making her braided hair lopsided. When her eyes fall on his hunched shoulders, the freckled bridge of her nose scrunches. 

“Whats going on?” She asks suddenly, growing more aware. “Are you getting sick?” 

When he doesn’t answer, she steps closer, resting a hand between his shoulder blades. Ghost can't help the low sound that pushes from his chest. She keeps it there, rubbing circles into the expanse between his shoulder blades. 

“It’s okay,” Flash starts, still soothing his hunched shoulders back down. “I get sick too, just on plane rides. I don’t know what it is.” She laughs once, bright and musical. “Maybe the forty thousand feet in the air bit.” 

Ghost’s breaths come easier now, in through his nose and streamlined from his pursed lips, the way his psychiatrist had shown him. The small pouch of his pills sit comfortingly in his breast pocket, but he lets them stay there. Finally, he turns to face Flash, reluctantly letting the warmth of her palm fall from his back. 

“Yeah.” The word comes out staticky, like when the comms are just a bit too far apart. “That part is pretty shitty.” He doesn’t know why he’s agreeing with her. He’s never once felt an ounce of fear flying on a plane. There’s no point when everything is already so far out of his control. But when her lips split and reveal an amused smile he understands why. 

“C’mon.” Flash grasps his hand, pulling him back towards the truck. He hadn’t realized just how far he’d stumbled. “I’m sure we have something in the truck for nausea.” 

Ghost just nods and follows her lead, sliding smoothly onto the bench of the truck and shutting the door behind him. Flash carefully slips her pinky finger around his, squeezing tightly. And that single act sends a rush of heat through his chest both pleasant and burning. She knew. She knew damn well he wasn’t car sick. Soap says nothing.

Instead of folding his hands underneath his arms like usual, Ghost lets them be. One gently grasping the safety handle, and the other tucked neatly under Flash’s tracing fingers. And does his best to ignore the eyes watching them from the mirror. 

★Flash

Flash, in a desperate attempt to get out of the truck, barely manages to let it stop before bursting out and jogging a few short laps around the vehicle. 

“Jesus kid.” Soap swears, stepping out of the cab and stretching his arms overhead. “Weren’t you just sleeping like-” a disbelieving glance at his wristwatch, “three minutes ago.” 

“Four fucking hours.” She bites as Ghost slides from the back. “That’s basically abuse.” 

In a desperate attempt to relieve the cramping behind her thighs, Flash bends forward, slipping her hands under her sneakers. A relieved moan splits her lips, muffled into the fabric of her pants. Careful not to go light-headed, she slowly straightens out before reaching her hands above her and pushing her chest out. It feels fucking amazing.

When she finishes and turns to the two guys behind her, she can’t help but laugh. Ghost’s face is turned away, eyes downcast in a way that promises Flash his cheeks are burning hot. Soap glances between the two of them before laughing loudly and stalking off toward the large building that, in Flash’s humble opinion, does not look anything like a farmhouse. If it weren’t for the large yellow barn nestled into the field next to it, the large concrete building would probably look like a prison. 

Flash is about to follow after Soap, both eager to get to the briefing, and much to her annoyance, nervous to see Alejandro and Valeria, when a gentle hand grasps her elbow. She turns to find Ghost, still hovering near the car, one hand held behind his back. 

“Whats up?” She asks, eyeing his hidden hand and taking a few curious steps towards him. 

“I uh-” Ghost stutters in a way that two days before would leave Flash shellshocked, but after seeing him so vulnerable the night before, she just nods for him to continue. “I have something for you.” 

“Ooh a gift?” Flash says, trying to peek around his body, but the bulk of his shoulders easily blocks her vision. 

“It’s nothing, really. Just something small. I didn’t think you had one and you were looking at it. Then there was that guy.” He rambles, ducking his head slightly. 

Flash has to squeeze her hands into fists to keep from grabbing his face and kissing him. Even through the mask would be better than nothing, but the few moments of silence that lapse between his rambles and her watching the way his hand endearingly fidgets at his belt helps her somewhat regain her self control. 

“If it’s important to you. It’s important to me.” She says softly and steps closer. “Now let me see.” 

He hesitates for one more second before pulling his hand from behind him and showing her a folded blue square in his hand. Flash’s heart stops for a moment and then starts back up so fast that she nearly passes out. It’s the cerulean scarf she’d seen at the market.

“Ghost-” Her voice catches as she reaches up and pulls the silk from his hand, mouth suddenly dry.

“I just thought it would help, the dust is bad and- I think I got the right one, the blue right-” 

He’s cut off with a huff as Flash throws herself against him. She wraps her arms around his chest squeezing hard. The rough velco of his vest scrapes her cheek, and something is pushing painfully against her ear, but she doesn’t let go. 

“Thank you.” She says quietly. 

The words, muffled into his chest, are barely audible. He doesn’t respond, but a few moments later, she feels a hand rest lightly against her shoulderblades. When she doesn’t let go, his other hand slides up, pulling her into him.  

“Let's head in,” Flash says, reluctantly pulling away and sliding her hand into his, before tugging him towards the "farmhouse". 

They make it just a few paces before he slides his hand from hers and takes two measured steps in front of her. Flash is about to question him, but leaning against the open door of the farmhouse is Alejandro, handsome as ever.

"We've been waiting." He nods to Ghost, shifting out of the doorway to let him pass. Flash watches him go with a confused glare. "Everything okay Rubia."

"Yeah," She breathes, brushing past him without looking at his face. "Everything's fine."

_____

Much to her disappointment. The briefing is not as entertaining as she’d thought it would be. Both Alejandro and Price would be making final decisions tonight. This briefing was only to go over the information they already knew. But she still listened diligently and took her notes at appropriate times. Alejandro didn’t do so much as glance in her direction as he spoke, both he and Valeria remained impassive during the meeting. It made Flash wonder how many of the people sitting around her had shared a bed with them. Her eyes land on Gaz, who seems to be a little too focused on Alejandro's hands as he retraces a path on one of the topograph maps. She glances over to Ghost, hoping to point his attention to Gaz and his drooling mouth, but he stays facing the front of the room. Even when she stares at him, practically burning holes into the back of his masked head, he doesn’t turn around. So when the lights shut off and the projector whirs to life, she grabs the pen resting next to his paper, making a point to doodle little hearts at the corner of her paper when he finally looks her way. Instead of shaking his head and laughing like he usually does in response to her minor thievery, he pulls another pen from his pocket and holds it in his hand. 

Annoyed at Ghost's sudden coldness and bored out of her mind, Flash turns to Gaz to whisper in his ear, 

“Do you think if you stare at his crotch enough, you’ll see through his pants?” 

His face goes bright red and a stuttered cough cuts off the briefing. 

“You okay Gaz?” Alejandro asks, raising a dark brow as Gaz hits his chest with a fist, still coughing.

“Yes, sir. Fine.” Gaz mutters. 

Alejandro continues on, using a meter stick to draw an invisible line down a projected image of a warehouse. 

Flash leans back to Gaz’s ear again, feeling malicious. “Is that what you call him in the bedroom? Sir?” 

This time Gaz chokes, coughing wildly as Flash bites back a smile and forces her brows to pinch in concern as she pats his back. 

She does get Ghost's attention this time, but much to her disappointment, yet again, it's just a small shake of his head. Flash glares pointedly back.

“What is going on. Are you sure you’re okay?” Alejandro asks again. 

“I’m going to go grab some water and air, I’ll be right back.” Gaz bites out between coughs. 

Flash lasts another two and a half minutes after he leaves before muttering something about checking on Gaz and wandering out of the room and down the hall. 

It’s here, with fists shoved deep into her pockets that she passes a set of double doors propped open to reveal a small training room. It's modest compared to the one back at their base. The back wall is decorated with an assortment of real and fake weapons and a thick green mat covers the stained cement. A bright red sign nailed to one of the doors threatens suspension to anyone who brings the weapons out of the confinements of the training room. She's about to walk by, wanting to slip out of the building and explore the barn. But her curiosity wins over and she hovers in the dim hallway.

Once Flash is there, watching the fighting pairs, she's surprised it took her so long to hear the grunting and unmistakable thud of bodies bouncing off worn foam. One of the men leaning against the back wall, who'd been intently watching a rather unfair match play out, starts towards her in a slow prowl. The challenge is clear, confidence leaks from him like a poison, and his eyes scan her body, lingering for a few seconds on her chest. She recognizes him from the meeting, but can't quite remember his name. Liam? Larson?

"Get er' Lucas!" One of the guys calls, following with a series of whooping howls. She sends him a withering glare and is about to stalk away to find Gaz when her drifting eyes catch on a brightly colored package peaking from Lucas' pocket. Maybe just one match and then she'd find him.

"What do you say Rubia? Just you and me?" He stops just a few feet from her, close enough that she can smell the sweat that sticks the front of his shirt to his muscled chest.

She has to bite back a laugh at the stuttered way Alejandro's pet name falls from his lips. A far cry from the other man's smoothness. It's not that Lucas isn't attractive, his body is well-shaped and thick dark hair falls into a pair of bright hazel eyes. If she wasn't so busy at the academy she might have even gone for a guy like him. But all she can think of is Ghost's kind eyes and if she's being honest, the shape of his ass in one of the heli harnesses. She doesn't have to see Lucas's backside to know it'll pale in comparison.

"I don't know." Flash looks him up and down, letting the boredom in her eyes shine. "You look a little," she waves one hand around as if it will pull the word from thin air "small."

Lucas flinches back, obviously not used to being rejected. 

"Then it should be quick, no?" His smile is back now, and just as flirty as before.

She relents, “Rules?” She prompts, stretching her shoulders and removing the belt from her waist, doing her best to ignore the pinch as her stitched skin pulls taught.

“Clean fight. First one to tap loses.” 

Flash nods and smiles widely, more than eager to move after sitting for the past five hours. Lucas smiles wide, almost looking feral with a pair of pointed canines.

She follows him to the mat and they square up, him guarding high over his jaw and her standing still, hands at her side. Someone behind them shouts a command and Lucas is lunging, striking hard and fast towards her exposed midsection. She easily sidesteps him, having seen the flex in his exposed calf muscle just a moment before. Childs play. 

Flash lets him lunge, easily dancing around his brutally thrown fists and elbows as he tires himself out. She can already tell he’s used to using his weight as an advantage rather than a tool. Much like every other man she’s fought.

After a particularly poorly timed left hook, Lucas lets out a frustrated growl. Taking pity on him, Flash sighs before darting towards him. In just under two seconds, she’s slipped her leg behind his knees and with one shove of her elbow has him sprawled on the mat, blinking widely. In another second, she’s locked her bicep over his neck and tightened her legs around his chest in a breath-squeezing grip. 

When he doesn’t stop squirming, her bicep tightens around his throat, "Tap." She orders, calm and unwavering. "You've already lost."

Nails scrape at her grip leaving angry red scratches against the back of her hand and wrist. She winces but doesn't relent. His gasping lips have turned pale and the veins at his forehead bulge against sweating skin. If he doesn't tap he'll pass out, she's sure of it. His fingers scratch at her hand again, but this time they’re fumbling and slow. The men surrounding her are shouting at him to fight back and Flash wonders if they're too ignorant to see that the lack of oxygen has left his limbs useless, or if they're just that dumb.

Just as his eyes start to roll back, there's a weak tap against her outer thigh. She immediately releases and Lucas scrambles back against the mat, shoving her to the side in the process, and hunches over, violently coughing between gags.

"What the fuck." He spits out, still curled into himself, red face inches above the dirty mat. "What the fuck is wrong with you."

Pushing herself to her feet, Flash stalks towards him and jabs a finger at his sweating glare. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She wasn't about to let him make her feel guilty, he'd started it, she just saw it through.

Lucas just stares at her with bloodshot eyes and the room around them stays silent. Nosy Bastards.

"I'll tell you what's wrong with you." She continues, stepping forward to rub the dirty tread of her shoe against the white of his shirt before leaning down, their faces just inches apart. "You're too slow."

He says nothing, even as she reaches over and snatches the cellophane bag of sweets from his pocket.

_____

Happily picking through the bag of candy she’d so fairly won, Flash wanders the property kicking rocks and half-assedly looking for Gaz. Just before she's about to turn and head back, she stumbles upon a smell that she can only describe as animal.

When Flash stops in front of the open barn doors, her jaw drops. One of the biggest horses she’d ever seen stands before her, lazily chewing on a mouthful of hay. She has to crane her head upward to see the ginger mane falling in neat tendrils over a huge, muscled neck. It's as beautiful as it is terrifying.

The horse's nose is soft like plush velvet when she runs a single finger across it, and surprisingly warm. The deep chestnut of its eyes stays relaxed and half-lidded so she strokes it again, this time with her palm. When she does, warm puffs of air blow against her hand and she jumps back, heart racing. The horse seems to sense this and with its long, nimble legs, lowers itself to the ground, nestling into the dry hay bed at her feet. Following it down, Flash drops to her knees and sits back against her heels, feeling braver now that they’re nearly face to face. Well, face to muzzle.

“You aren’t so mean. Huh?” She speaks softly, pressing her palm between the dark, watchful eyes and feeling the warmth of its skin. “Are you a boy or a girl?”

“She’s a girl.”

Flash falls backward, feet slipping from under her in the slick hay when a deep voice calls out from behind her. But large hands are under her arms in seconds, pulling her up and to her feet.

Ghost stands in front of her now, mouth quirked into a small smile under the cotton of his mask. “That’s the second time I’ve had to keep you from knockin’ yourself out.” His hands linger, squeezing her biceps reassuringly before dropping to his sides. “How often does this happen when I’m not around?”

“I- what?” Flash’s heart still beats wildly in her chest, partially from nearly cracking her head off the paved ground, but mostly from the looming presence in front of her. “What?”

“She’s a girl.” Ghost continues, choosing not to repeat his question. “Maple I think. One of Alejandro’s first girls. She’s a sweetheart.” He steps closer to Flash and for a moment she thinks he’s about to grab her, but then he’s reaching past her to rest a hand on the patch of cream-colored fur her own had been resting against just minutes before. Maple's eyes close and she pushes against his hand, moving to nose his palm. Ghost responds by loosening each finger of his glove before pulling it off and tucking it in his waistband. Flash watches intently as he returns his hand to the spot and smooths it upwards, following the patch of cream between her eyes.

“Do you still have that candy?”

Ghost's voice snaps her back and with burning cheeks, she pulls the small plastic bag from her pocket, feeling a pinch of shame at being caught but called out. “How did you know?”

“One of the guys was complaining.” He starts before turning to look at her, his brow furrows slightly at the scratches covering the back of her hand and forearm, but it eases when he glances up at her face. “And your mouth is bright red.”

Handing the bag to him, Flash uses the back of her other hand to wipe at her lips but it’s no use. “Horses can have candy?” She asks, now scrubbing her mouth with the sleeve of her fleece.

Ghost responds by pulling one of the round, brightly colored candies and placing it on the flat of his bare palm before extending it to Maple.

“Some.” He speaks lowly and in a calming tone that Flash knows is for the horse's sake, but she can't help but melt all the same. Maple picks the candy up with the soft skin of her lips before crunching it between a powerful set of teeth. “This stuff is just dyed sugar. They sell it everywhere.”

Then he’s grabbing her hand, flattening her fingers with a gentle swipe before setting a purple one on her palm. It's only when he starts to move her arm towards Maple's giant mouth that she jerks back, closing the candy tight in her palm. It’s sticky and in just a few seconds starts to melt against the heat of her skin.

“Keep your hand flat.” His hand curls around her forearm to grasp her wrist. “I promise she won’t bite. Open.”

At his command, Flash opens her palm and with shaking fingers, lets him guide her arm outwards with his hand wrapped reassuringly around her wrist. At the last moment, Flash shuts her eyes tight, not wanting to see the grisly sight of her fingers being ground to a pulp. But she’s only met with Maple’s warm breath and the tickle of whiskers as her soft lips take the sticky candy from her hand. A nervous laugh bubbles up from her own mouth, a mix of relief and joy at the strange feeling.

“See,” Ghost's voice vibrates from a warm chest, nearly pressed against her back. His hand still grips her wrist, “I told you she wouldn’t bite.”

“I trust you.” Flash says to their hands, “I just don’t trust the horse.”

“Give her another. This time with your eyes open.” She doesn’t ask how he knew her eyes were closed.

With open eyes, Flash lets Ghost set another candy, a bright orange one, onto her palm. Her wrist, still encompassed by his gentle hand, moves on its own accord towards Maple’s brown muzzle. She takes it just as sweetly as before, in a soft kiss of whiskers.

Flash does laugh this time, a sweet laugh that has her falling back a step with the effort, right into Ghost.

When she turns to apologize, still laughing, the words die on her tongue. He stares down at her, eyes wide and burning with so much emotion her breath catches in her throat. His own breath comes shakily through his nose as he brings a hand up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear before dropping it back to his side.

“Do you want to ride her?” He whispers, still staring intently at her face.

“Fuck no.” Flash breathes. But she doesn’t stop him as he pulls a saddle off a post and begins to strap it to a now-standing Maple. She doesn’t stop him when he lifts her like a rag doll and places her in the saddle, or when he gracefully swings himself up to sit behind her. And she doesn’t stop him when he reaches around her to hold the brown leather reins and guide them out and onto a dirt trail. She could have, but she doesn’t.

She’d severely underestimated the proximity that riding a horse with someone requires. Every inch of their bodies molded together, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. It’s glorious. She can’t help but settle back a bit, reveling in the way his arms wrap around her shoulders.

The setting sun shines orange and yellow across the tan field, turning it into an ocean of waving ochre honey, and the rest of the green flowing forest into a golden meadow. It seeps into her very bones, dragging her heartbeat to a dull thump that sounds in time with the gentle rocking of Maple's steps. She shifts further back, now laying entirely across Ghost's chest and nestling into the warm spot between his neck and shoulder. It smells delightfully of sweat, oranges, and dirt. He stiffens at first, she doesn’t know if it’s surprise or discomfort, but he relaxes just a moment later, resting his chin gently atop her head. And there, nestled in the warmth of his embrace and lulled by the swaying steps of sweet Maple. Flash closes her eyes and wills her mind to remember every detail, begs her body not to forget the gentle shift of muscle against her back as Ghost directs them down a rough path he seems to know so well.

“You’ve done this before?” Her question is quiet, spoken through a drowsy fog.

Ghost moves the reins to one hand and uses the other to gently knit their fingers together, the way she’d done in his truck. Here in her sleep-drunk state, the effort it takes for him to fit his fingers between her own smaller ones is too comical. “Yes,” His thumb rubs up and down the ridges of her knuckles, no doubt soothing his own nerves, “I’ve spent a lot of time here. Alejandro has done a lot for me.”

“With the horses?”

“Well,” he starts, hesitatingly, “A few years ago, I was having a rough time. Things were not going my way.” A large breath presses his chest tightly against her back “Alejandro let me stay with him for as long as I needed.”

“So you became a cowboy?” She teases, squeezing his hand tight.

“Not right away,” he laughs lightly and Flash involuntarily presses back into the sound, “I was scared shitless. Alejandro had to practically force me into the barn. But then I learned more about them. How compassionate and loving they are. Did you know they can have a whole conversation with just their ears?”

Flash hums encouragingly, hoping he’ll keep talking, if only to feel his voice against her back.

“They can love too. They’ll bond to someone, and love them the same way a human would. Real love.” An eager note shifts his voice, something Flash had never heard before.

“And did you bond with Maple?” Flash speaks into the soft cotton of his jacket.

“No,” a sigh tickles the soft hair at her nape “though we did get close. I have another horse. Her name is Rose.”

“Pretty name.” Flash hums “Where is she?”

Ghost stiffens again, and this time it takes him a few more beats to settle back and even longer to respond.

“She’s being cared for by my neighbor.”

“What’s she look like?” Flash’s voice is drifting, and the lids of her eyes seem impossibly heavy. She starts to imagine his home. A cupboard filled with chipped mugs and a wooden drying rack next to a deep basin sink. She’s decided that he’s not one to use a dishwasher.

“Golden hair,” his hand reaches up to tug at a strand of her own and she bats a hand at him, completely missing through her half-lidded gaze. “Blue eyes.” He’s brushing his hand along her cheekbone now and the feeling is like a magnet, tugging her eyes closed with a final drag down the bridge of her nose. “And a fiery temperament.”

“Are you calling me a horse?” Flash mumbles, half incoherent. But Ghost manages to decipher it and laughs breathily.

“No, I’m just noticing some similarities.” His hand reaches up to smooth the hair at her temple. Its awfully delightful.

“You keep doing that I’m going to fall asleep.” She threatens, even though they both know she’s far past salvation.

“That’s okay.” His hand drops to wrap around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. “I won’t let you fall.”

“Okay.”

And for the first time since the incident, Flash falls asleep without the anxiety of what she’ll miss, what will pull her from her sheets, screaming and clawing. For the first time in weeks, she falls asleep in the sweet embrace of safety.

A/N: You cannot tell me that Flash isn't an ass woman. She's going to be grabbing handfuls soon. 

Also the idea of Ghost hyper fixating on horses AUGGHH HES TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD

Anywaysss, thank you for sticking with me through all of this. I love all of you and will talk to you again very soon!

#Ghost x reader #Ghost x female oc #SImon riley #Cod fic #Simon Ghost Riley #Alejandro Vargas #Valeria #Modern Warfare 2 #Ghost stories #Headcannons #John soap mactavish #John Price #MW2 #Gaz Garrick

[theseasasleep]

Story of Kunning Palace E03 (semi-live reaction)

So, it's our heroine's fate to always be crushed on by the spoiled Princess? LOL

There's no way a young woman who climbed all the way to Empress can avoid most of the path to that fate. In most of the webnovels of this type I've read, reaching that type of pinnacle means you have a fate with it, regardless of the ultimate outcome. The best Xue Ning can do is flip the script on circumstances while doing her best to skirt around the thornier aspects of future events.

1st Life: the Princess thinks back to her first encounter with Xue Ning with humiliation, embarrassment and rage

2nd Life: the Princess will think back on their first encounter with pride, happiness and warmth

So far so good. Although I totally get why she'd want to avoid tangling with a temperamental royal who she had a terrible experience with.

...

I really like how this show is shot. Sometimes you never know with cdramas if you'll get a cheap or pedestrian directing style or a dramatic and/or compelling one.

...

The show is still building its foundations and I'm just so eager to jump into the action!

*fight sequence starts 1 minute later* AND HERE WE GO!

Dude is more pissed off by the damaged qin strings than the assassination attempt! HA!

Xue Ning, as hostage: *minimize connections to minimize involvement* Mr. Hostage-taker, sir, I know Xie Wei only through the grapevine...

Xie Wei: MISS XUE NING, PLEASE DON'T SELL OUR CONNECTION SO SHORT! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE GREAT FRIENDS! IN FACT, YOU ARE MY LIFE SAVIOR!

Xue Ning:

...

Take me instead.

Mmm. Something about the silky oomph with which he said that line combined with his expression... Okay, okay, Zhang Ling He. It took three episodes but you got me: the character of Xie Wei is now officially attractive to me. All he had to do was low key deliver a line that just vibrates with high key threat.

Man, what era are my hormones in? Between finding my mojo over one ML threatening to tear an offensive man's tongue out and fixing my posture when this one is nothing but velvet menace, I need a name for it. I need to know. Should I be worried? Scared? Aroused?

oh. oh. he's so sexy... okay, now you're just showing off; put the murderous sexiness away

Not this man calling her out, leaving her neither a fissure to hide in or a crumb for modesty!

I... I can't wait until he's incandescently in love with her because I just know, I just know it will be so magnificent I won't know what to do with myself.

Girl, while you are absolutely right to defend your current relationship with Yan Lin and right to say it is a flirtation that is undeserving of such rude scrutiny... you (and us) know that man speaks no lies. You are trifling with Yan Lin and you would have done him plenty of harm without the benefit of literal 20/20 hindsight.

That being said, I see @dangermousie point: kicking off a relationship trying to gin up, stoke and maintain fear in the other party is an excellent way to receive future comeuppance in the form of watching the woman you desperately love side-eye you as she lavishes protection and support on her other suitors.

...

I like Yan Lin. Not too sorry to say that. Hopefully Life No. 2 keeps him off the rapist track.

It's nice seeing Xue Ning enjoying festivities. The impression I have of her first life self is that while she reveled in being "wild", she likely didn't really allow herself to enjoy being young and with friends, too busy being hungry.

Dear. God. That seamless transition from earnest Yan Lin in Life No. 2 waxing poetic about his first impressions of Xue Ning to embittered Yan Lin in Life No. 1 waxing poetic about his first impressions of Xue Ning with the exact. same. words. Add to it the implied threat of sexual violence in LIfe No. 1!!!

Chills.

*gagging* Did I say I like Yan Lin? Show, it's going to be hard for me to keep that opinion if you keep flashing back to that.

Me during the Life No. 2 Ning x Yan kiss scene:

I want no part of it.

All right, dude, are you telling me you raped her because she plain text told you she planned to marry someone who could help her achieve her goals?! She didn't sell you out to the devil... Or refuse to shelter either you or wounded family members... but because when you were at your lowest, like the bitch she admittedly is... was..., she told you the truth and cut ties? I mean, that's reason enough not to warn her a coup is coming for her ass in Life No. 1. There's no reason for rape, ever; even if she lit your dog on fire, you can't rape her. Just WTF, guy?!

...

Not that it excuses any of her horrid behavior but I can see how lonely Xue Ning is in what should be her familial home. That cozy scene between her parents and half-sister where in her absence there is only affection and warmth and in her presence, only awkwardness and discomfort.

She lived a childhood in poverty and exile being spoken and looked down upon; returned to her parents' home to find herself being shunted as second-born (in an era where hierarchy matters) and defective instead of receiving proper homecoming. I can see why the attraction of her sole dream, her ultimate goal - becoming Empress - would become all-consuming, especially if such a dream sustained her in exile and fueled her defiance at home.

...

Oh, jesus christ, Yan Lin, don't be an idiot! Don't believe in an enemy soldier during wartime, like...?!

...

So Xue Ning might have accidentally sold Yan Lin out to the devil.

But in her defense, that wasn't her intention. Just to watch him. Like a politics-minded creeper.

Me to Ning as she reads her former coachman cum spy to filth: GET HIM.

#post #tv show: story of kunning palace #teevee #cdrama #xie wei #zhang ling he #gif #references tv show: the office #xue ning #yan lin

[spnfanficpond]

New Member Spotlight - March 2024

The Pond is always growing and we want to make our new members feel welcome! Here’s a list of recent additions to our fishy family, along with a little info about them!

Guppies, Jellies, and Mutuals, oh, my!

@samanddean76 -

Other SM names? - Same name on AO3 and Discord

OTP? - Wincest and/or J2.

Looking for in the Pond? - To be around other open-minded and creative people so that I can see how far I can be inspired to go with this writing thing.

Pairings you read? - All of it. I love Wincest, Wincestiel, Sabriel, Destiel, Jammy, and J2.

Genres you read? - Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Smut, True Mates, Soul Mates, Unrequited Love, and A/B/O is my favorite way to combine all of the above.

Favorite writer(s)? - nyxocity. She started on LiveJournal with the first episodes to air and transfered a lot to Ao3. Her work in both SPN and SPN RPF is some of the best I've ever read.

What do you like to write? - A/B/O, AU's, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, True Mates, Soul Mates, Revenge, and All The Feels

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Joyous Memories Amongst The Sorrow

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - A full on, hard-core revenge story where nothing is softened, the focus doesn't shift away, and there is no doubt as to what was done. Haven't tried it yet as I'm not sure I'm ready to embrace the darkness required to write it. Also, I don't want to scare off my readers. How you can help? Encourage me to finally tackle that next seemingly impossible challenge.

@kayleighwinchester -

Other SM names? - KayleighWinchester (AO3)

OTP? - Awful as it sounds, Dean and my OC! Beyond that, absolutely Destiel.

Other fandoms? - I'm pretty active in the band Ghost's TikTok fandom! I used to be *huge* into Harry Potter, but that's definitely faded in the last few years. As it stands, Supernatural has definitely become the main obsession.

Looking for in the Pond? - I'm mostly here for the community! My fanfic writing has mostly been just for me and shared with a few close friends in the last few years - publishing it anywhere, especially in the really rough state it's in at present, is super daunting! I'm always looking for more people to bounce ideas off of, chat with, and generally obsess over the show with, as well as finding new stuff to read!

Pairings you read? - I'm especially fond of reader inserts, and they were my first big step into fanfic! When it comes to ships, I tend to stick specifically to Destiel, since it's my OTP, but I'm always willing to branch out!

Genres you read? - I love angst! Writing was, for a long time, my free version of therapy, so reading and writing angst was always a huge thing for me. I also love smut and fluff. ...Essentially, everything. Depends on the mood!

Favorite writer(s)? - I always have to boost TinkerbellBleu on Ao3, even though she isn't active anymore. She wrote an amazing DeanxOC fic, essentially turning episodes 1, 2, and part of 3 into full-length novels. I adore her writing and hope she comes back soon!

What do you like to write? - Most are CharacterxOC, and I have absolutely no self-control, so they are almost always ridiculously long. As it stands, I've been incapable of not just writing a fic that is supposed to span the entire show, because there's just *so many* good moments, good scenes, good storylines, etc. There's never one specific 'theme'; I write everything! I do enjoy writing angst, though.

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - Smut! I've made an *attempt*, but never one that I actually kept. Generally, it comes down to a lack of confidence; I'd love some critiques if I ever get around to it!

@whiskeyjuniper -

Other SM names? - Whiskeyjuniper (AO3)

OTP? - DeanCas, Midam, crackship DeanChuck

Looking for in the Pond? - Sprint buddies!

Pairings you read? - DeanCas, Midam, crackship DeanChuck

Genres you read? - Horror

What do you like to write? - Horror, Weird

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - a happy place to dream about

@bloodydeanwinchester -

Other SM names? - Same name on Discord, alovelyhorror (AO3)

OTP? - Destiel

Looking for in the Pond? - Looking for a place to talk to other writers and participate in sprints.

Pairings you read? - Almost exclusively Destiel

Genres you read? - Angst with a happy ending is my favorite but I also love some good horror. my favorite trope is probably time travel.

Favorite writer(s)? - sobsicles and komodobits on ao3

What do you like to write? - mostly into writing longer destiel canon/canon divergent fics (although i do have an idea or two for aus)

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - When the Night Is Over

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - The thing I'm most focused on wanting to do now is to finish the longer fic that I’m currently working on. I'm struggling with keeping up motivation now that I'm right in the middle of the fic!

@notanotherthembo -

Other SM names? - Same name on Discord

OTP? - Dean/Cassie

Other fandoms? - TWD, TOWL

Looking for in the Pond? - Beta readers, homies, amazing writers to talk shop with

Pairings you read? - Sam/Femme!Reader, DeanCassie, Sam/Dean/Femme!Reader, Wincest

Genres you read? - Smut, Rivals or Enemies to Lovers,

Favorite writer(s)? - @uncouth-the-fifth is the GOAT

What do you like to write? - Crossovers, specifically ones that feature Black femme characters as the romantic lead

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Clap Your Hands If You Believe

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - Reader inserts! I'm working on one right now that I need a beta reader for. I'm also considering finishing up/rewriting an old Spn/True Blood crossover series that I haven't touched in years.

@bigmouthlass -

Other SM names? - darali_starscream (AO3) & Darali (Discord)

OTP? - I write Dean/You, and Dean/Donna should've lived happily ever after.

Looking for in the Pond? - Get a better handle on fandom stuff, meet some other like-minded obsessives.

Pairings you read? - Dean/anyone. He fascinates me.

Genres you read? - Smut to start, anything interesting and well-written.

Favorite writer(s)? - @thoughtslikeaminefield, @sam-is-my-safe-word , @talltalesandbedtimestories, Edge_of_Clairvoyance (AO3), and @rizlowwritessortof

What do you like to write? - They start as smut, and insist on growing plots.

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Stairwell Drums

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I'm trying to get comfortable writing Sam; he's harder for me to feel at ease with. Also slash generally, it doesn't come naturally to me.

That's all for this month, folks! (If we're missing anyone, let us know and we'll add them to next month's list!) Make sure to say hi to the newbies and make them feel welcome! Thanks to all from @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @spencereliotwinchester and @heavenssexiestangel!

#welcome #new member post #pond admin #spnwin #supernatural #the winchesters #long post #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #fanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fan fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn prequel #pond events

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part X.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by​ @sic-vita​​​

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Good evening wonderful peeps. Hope you've had a good week. It's just been announced that Tom Sturridge and Mason Alexander Park are going to be at London MCM Comic Con next weekend and the thought of it is too much for me to handle. I think I might be having a day in London... 😉 Anyway, please enjoy this next one. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

The instant that yours and Morpheus' lips touch, you feel him tense. There’s an acute intake of breath. Then he is a statue. Carved from ice.

You consider pulling back but then the ice begins to melt. 

He’s kissing you back. 

Only very slightly yet it’s all the encouragement you need to keep going.

His lips are just as perfect to kiss as they are to look at.

Soft. And combined with his smooth skin, it is like being caressed by silk.

Within seconds, you are lost in him.

The reaction your body gives is unlike anything you have ever experienced before from a first kiss, or any other kiss for that matter. You are completely overtaken by the oxytocin binding to your neuroreceptors, and there's an additional layer of bliss to cushion your aching heart. It laps over you like a wave soaking the sand at high tide.

An otherworldly sensation. 

You presume it is because he is that entirely. Not of your world.

The thought is sobering. He’s a powerful, ageless, visually stunning being. And you’re a human.

A human going through a crisis. 

You know full well that trying to solve it through intimacy is wrong, regardless of the physical attraction and the burgeoning connection you feel with him on an emotional level.

You pull away.

Out of his personal space and further still. You withdraw into yourself.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Morpheus speaks your name in a whisper.

It takes a great amount of force for you to feel able to look at him.

His eyes are gleaming with tears. He looks so vulnerable.

Vulnerability caused by your actions.

Shame floods through you.

What must you think of me? You question inside your head.

He had been dutifully trying to help you, attempted to bring you comfort, shared what it meant to be the guardian of dreams and apologised for upsetting you, and the only thing you could think to do in that moment was to take advantage of his kindness by kissing him.

You feel despicable.

You're pushing your hands shakily over your scalp. 

He says your name again. There’s real confusion on his face.

"Please can we forget that happened? I've literally just told you about my break up and kissing you, well, it’s a classic rebound reaction. I should know better.”

"Rebounding is a concept created by humans to bring shame to those who have the fortitude to act on their desires."

His words, though they sound seductively logical, do not sway your resolve. 

“That may be true, but it was still massively impulsive of me.”

You watch as his walls go back up, cleaning his face of all feeling and freezing his eyes to a dark, frosty blue.

"Then I will do as you ask and ignore its occurrence."

You exhale with relief.

"I appreciate that."

Morpheus changes the subject so quickly, not even allowing for a second of unease.

"We should return to the library."

"Okay."

You shift into a better position to be able to stand but then he is in front of you and extending a long-fingered hand for you to take.

You hesitate.

"Please, Y/N."

You slip your hand into his grasp.

The skin on skin contact creates a buzzing sensation in the back of your head. Your body was going to take some convincing to detach. 

You think back to his choice of adjective.

Desire.

That was what had happened. A heady moment of desire. One that you had enjoyed, yes, but nothing that could be pursued.

He helps you up gracefully.

"Thank you."

He simply nods and begins to walk back the way you had both originally come.

You fall into step beside him.

You occupy your thoughts by looking at every detail of the dense, green forest.

The textures of the tree bark, the colours of the leaves, the smell of the air.

It’s easier to distract yourself when you get closer to the palace. In your upset, you had completely missed the details of the gorgeous structure before. The pale stone and gleaming copper of the domes and towers. Statues dotted in amongst the architecture. A dragon and a Pegasus that move with their own autonomy greet you at the entrance doors.

It is fantastical.

Once inside, you re-trace the steps you had taken so hurriedly not an hour ago. Through the corridors with their abundance of arches and pillars and swathes of red carpets trimmed with gold.

Once back in the library, Lucienne greets you with a glowing smile.

You all sit down around the table.

Morpheus nods for Lucienne to present their findings.

“We have found the moment when your night terrors started. You were thirteen years old and you had a hallucination about a spider.”

You nod, remembering that well. You had been so convinced that it was dangling above your face that you had hit out at it with all of your limbs in turn.

“The exact same night, there was a small disturbance recorded here.”

Lucienne takes off her glasses.

“Every parasomnia episode that you have had from that moment on has coincided with some unexplained event in the Dreaming. However, because they were low magnitude and happened so infrequently, there was no cause for concern. Until now, of course.”

You wet your lips nervously. You are fearfully replaying Matthew’s words from earlier in your head about what happens to vortexes.

“What course of action are you going to take to stop it from happening again?”

“Well, it appears that it only happens when you are severely stressed or afraid and then have a nightmare,” Lucienne replies.

You look at Morpheus.

“So you could just stop me from having nightmares?”

“I cannot do that. I do not think it wise. Nightmares serve a purpose. They are a necessary means to help you confront your fears.”

His stance is regal and tone unyielding.

You visibly deflate, there will be no persuading him, you are certain.

“What I will do is grant you a reprieve from them until you are less unsettled in your waking life.”

You blink as you process his words before becoming alarmed.

“And what happens the next time something bad happens? I can’t just stay inside and avoid everything and everyone that could potentially upset me. That’s no way to live.”

“I will step in,” he says this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait, let me get this straight. You are going to stop my nightmares every time I feel emotionally out of control?”

“Yes.”

You stare at him in shock.

“If that is agreeable to you,” he adds.

“It is.”

He stands.

“Then it is decided.”

***

You and Morpheus return to the main doors of the palace and stand on the bridge side by side.

His hands are clasped formally behind his back as he watches you looking out at the gates in the distance that are book-ended by mountains.

Subconscious life bustles in the landscape around you and beyond. Dreamers have been dreaming the entire time you have been here, completely oblivious to the threat you pose to them.

You look up at Morpheus and gesture before you with both hands.

“So you made all of this?”

"Yes.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Eons.”

"I feel privileged to have experienced it in such a lucid way. It's more beautiful than anything I have ever seen.”

“I am pleased you think so.” His voice sounds strained despite his choice of words.

A murmur of Starlings are suddenly dancing in the sky. Clearly someone is dreaming about bird watching.

“You will need to wake up soon,” Morpheus says.

“Oh, okay.” His comment is so abrupt that you can’t help but feel like you are being kicked out.

“I will come and check on you in two weeks.”

He goes to raise his hand and end the dream.

Your heart lurches.

“Morpheus, wait.”

He pauses.

“Thank you. For everything. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve your kindness but I am really grateful for what you’re doing for me.”

His eyes soften to an ocean blue.

“I meant what I said to Lucienne. I will do my utmost to protect you. You have my word."

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

"I used to be overwhelmed by every little thing. Torn apart, unravelled at the seams. I think it rooted in the way I breathe." 

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[justasupportunit]

Not Just Yet (Ryoji Mochizuki x Oc)

OC KISS WEEK!!! I missed two days so I kinda combined three.

Day 1) Almost (with a hint of Day 2 and 3 (Rain and Sunrise set))

TW: Attempted/Implied Su1c1de, mentions of death throughout. (If there's any more please let me know so I can add them!

Notes: The OC isn't named here, but their name is Lucian, this is kinda for a fic I'm writing about them!

This is it, you thought to yourself. Your feet staggered on the edge as you looked to the sky. You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. Why now.. Why now were you afraid of death’s kiss?

 You had no answer for yourself as you watched the sun begin to dim behind the horizon. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to go now.’ were the very words you wrote and left for someone to find. But where was it you wanted to go? You didn’t know. You swear you could feel someone watching you as you painfully let out a laugh. “W-why don’t I know…?” you stuttered. You haven’t even taken your shoes off yet, just the act of doing so scared you. It would push you further to something you were now doubting. You looked down at the ground, almost feeling faint looking at it. How did you not realize until now how high up you were? It felt like the whole world's eyes were on you, like death itself was waiting for you to do something– anything. 

You pictured your friends' faces. Mitsuru and Akihiko would definitely stop you right now, and maybe that was for the best. But.. they have their whole lives ahead of them… I.. I barely even know if I’ll have tomorrow. When all your days blur together… when time seems to drag on for eternity as well as all too fast, is that living? You didn’t know. Maybe there was something you could do to change it, maybe you could trust Akihiko and Mitsuru to help? Maybe… maybe you shouldn’t do this now.. 

You clenched your fists and hit your thigh with one. You couldn’t stand this hesitation you were now facing. But, you might be right, maybe now's not the time, maybe you can give it another day, see how things go. You wanted to scream. You were here again with no clue what to do, the feeling you dreaded the most, the feeling that made you want death's embrace in the first place. 

You don’t know why you even fell.

You didn’t scream as you did, you just looked at the sky. The sunset… Has never looked so beautiful…  You wished you could be there to see every beautiful sunset, every sunrise that would now never come, every starry sky that fascinated you to no end. Falling… really doesn’t feel fast… huh..

You saw something yellow appear in your vision, something that looked like a scarf. Weird. Then a ghostly hand grabbed your own. Before you knew it, you were falling with another. They smiled at you, their black hair flowing in the wind. For some reason, you felt relief in seeing them. Was this death? 

Your whole world began to dissipate, being swallowed by a void of rain. You watched as the sky disappeared, leaving you alone with death. You looked down, the ground hadn’t disappeared yet, and you were steadily approaching it. You felt your muscles tense as you prepared for impact, until you felt a hand redirect your gaze. Death forced you to look at it, before closing it’s eyes, bringing it’s lips close to yours. You felt your eyes grow heavy, shutting them shortly after. 

Yet, you weren’t falling when you re-opened them. 

“Hey sleepyhead~ Gonna get up?” you heard a voice call out to you. You looked around the unfamiliar terrain until you spotted a lanky guy with a yellow scarf, black hair and piercing blue eyes looking back at you. 

“W-who’re… who’re you?” you asked, your voice feeling almost foreign to yourself.

“Oh me? I’m… Ryoji.. Do you not remember me?” he asked. You shook your head causing him to pout. “Daw… well it’s okay! I’ve been watching you for quite some time now.. So let’s get up, yeah? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

My… my life? Y-yeah… yeah. That’s right… my whole life…

You reached for Ryoji, only for him to partially disappear when you tried. “H-huh?”

“Oh.. sorry.. I’m kinda.. Not fully here. But don’t worry! I can still help you! Just.. picture me as your imaginary companion! Here to always protect you.” Ryoji flashed a smile towards you. “Now, let’s find a way out of here… so we can see that sunset again, yeah?”

#oc kiss week #ryoji mochizuki #persona 3 ryoji #persona 3 ryoji x reader #fanfiction #oc x canon #persona 3 fanfic #ockiss24