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merakimagic · 1 year

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Ummm… if you have every wondered what it’s like to have ADHD, Autism (Lvl 1), Anxiety and Depression but also have an overwhelming sense that you need to be strong and perfect then here’s a message I just sent to my friend because I needed to let someone in and didn’t know who else to say it to.

It seems to give a pretty clear explanation in my view.

I don’t know why I feel so annoyed and frustrated with myself for saying I have ADHD and Autism. I have those things and I’m not ashamed of them but why do I always need to tell people… so they understand why I’m different. I mean everyone’s different and have different ways of doing things, it’s not like I’m special nor does anyone care. It’s not an excuse! I should be completely cable of keeping that part of myself in and not feeling like I have to tell people.

Does the way I explain it to people make it sound like I’m trying to get attention? Does saying that I’m proud of it and love how it makes me more curious about things and how it has made me good at art, music, languages, school, mythology, sports, pretty much a lot of things because I enjoy knowing them make it sound like I’m arrogant or trying to brag or just put a label on things.

I have anxiety, Autism level 1, ADHD, Depression, have experienced an eating disorder and still at times do, I’m a red head with blue eyes, I’m bi/pan, anemic, have asthma and ahhhhhh. Does all of this when I contribute to a conversation and say something about one of them just make people think that I have a need to be special?

Im sure I don’t feel that way. I think the only reason some of my reactions to things like how I may have a panic attack need stimming and stuff like that only happen know because I know there’s a reason for it but what if I’m just making a big deal out of nothing.

I really need to learn to shut up at times I think, I don’t think people really care about my long spills nor do they really want to know what’s going on with me. Why are relationships so fucking difficult?!

Why can’t I just understand them and the way they work? Can’t they just be simple? Why if your dating someone does there have to be this whole thing of you have to do this with them and you can’t do this with other people? Why do I need sounds to go away when I get overwhelmed, the worlds loud! It shouldn’t matter? Why do I feel like it’s okay to be flaws but I need to be flawless all at the same time? Why am I afraid of not being perfect? Why if I felt like I told my parents about this they would just get angry at me and tell me it’s all in my head? Why am I crying? These are thoughts are dealing with on a daily basis why are they bothering me now? Why can’t I just keep it to myself? I’ve been handling shit on my own my entire life it’s nothing new? Why do I know that tomorrow I’m gonna be fine and this is just a moment where my walls have fallen down?

Why am I so confident sometimes and then the rest I’m just completely fucked up? Why do I always need to restrain myself? Why can’t I just scream and then get back to it all? Why do I have to feel ashamed? Why should I have to feel like my mum doesn’t want to admit I have Autism?

Why do I care if I have Autism or ADHD so much? They have always been apart of me? It doesn’t mean anything? They’re just caused by a genetic mutation and makes you neurotypical why does it even matter? They’re just labels, who even gives a damn? You could have neither one and act the same way as me and people might just call you weird? Why do I care so much about this shit? No one else fucking does, maybe I should just shut up for a while. It’s clear that when I make a joke that it’s taken offensively, it’s clear that no one wants to hear about my problems, it’s clear that no one wants to here my rants, it’s clear that no one wants to here about my hobbies or opinions, it’s clear that I don’t get how to properly interact with others. Maybe I should just shut up, but if I did then my parents would just go on about how somethings wrong and get angry at me for not talking to them about it and we would just end up in a fight where they are telling me to just get over it and if I turn it back on them for how they have made me feel this way then they would just get even more angry and deny it.

Dad brought up a post that said about how a guys son used to sing and never stop talking and now they will be in the same room and his son will have his headphones on not say a word and that his son doesn’t know how much is dad misses him. And dad said that reminded him of me. Doesn’t he get that they’re part of the reason I don’t talk all the time. Because evertime I did I got told to calm down or my joke was offensive or that they don’t need the elephant. Don’t they get I like my phone because it has my hyperfixations and ever since I was little have loved cartoons and looking at fanart because they were what got me through the hard days at school and my parents fighting. Don’t they get I used them to cope because everything was solved in 22minutes and that’s the world I like to escape to when I day dream.

Why the fuck does all this even matter, why the fuck am I just being so overly emotional? Why can’t this just be all there is going through my brain right now?

Obviously there’s more.

There’s the voice telling me to just let myself cry and the voice telling me to suck it up and another one telling me to get ready for work and another one telling me to stop messaging and another one saying don’t put this on them and another one asking why I’m shaking and another if one saying I’ve done well to hold back the tears and another one saying I wonder when this message thing will cut me off and I’ll have to send two seperate messages? And another one asking is this just what my head is like? Is this what everyone’s head is like? Is this just because of my mental health shit? Am I just weak? Am I really this pathetic that I can’t pull myself together? I don’t want anyone to feel bad for me so why do I need to let anyone in? Why do I want to so badly to talk about this but also say nothing at all?

What the fuck is wrong with me, why can’t I just get the hell over it and move on, people deal with way worse stuff then this and here I am complaining because my low self esteem and hyper active over thinking head is just having a bad day and pulling me into it and won’t fucking leave me alone… what a pathetic excuse. You can’t use excuses in life. No one cares and no one has time for them, no one’s gonna help you so stop making excuses and just get on with it.

Put on your uniform, pack your bag and go to work and put on a happy cheerful face and just go take care of other people so that you don’t have to think about this. Just get on with it, there a bigger things then yourself and you just gotta get over what’s going on in your head

I’m Okay… I’m okay now.

If you’ve every felt this way, please let me know.

I don’t want to feel so alone anymore, nor do I want others to feel alone either.

I just felt these were necessary to make the whole thing a little less sad and full on serious and honestly feel like these characters would get it. Also this is not my art💫

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lipstickstainz · 4 years

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just a few days - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: There’s no denying that Spencer and you hate each other. What happens, when you are forced to spend a few days together? Warnings: enemies to lovers, language, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), typical criminal minds stuff Word Count: 4.5k A/N: hello friends. this is my first one shot and I hope you like it. gif not mine.

„I didn’t think you could be any more of a shithead, but you just proved me wrong.“

Many people believe in love at first sight. The heart starts racing, the knees go weak and you feel dizzy. You want to get to know the other person at all costs. Which is total bullshit, of course. You can't fall in love with someone at first sight. Interest, yes, but that's not love.

With Spencer and you it was different. The first time you met, you were breathless. Your muscles tensed to the breaking point, the blood pulsed in your ears, and your stomach turned. Only, in your case, it definitely wasn't love.

„I saw a trash bag on the side of the road today. Reminded me of you“, you shot back and Spencer rolled his eyes.

Hate at first sight really did exist, and Spencer and you were the prime example.

There was always a stupid comment, a scathing sideways glance, or catty laughter. Neither of you took it personally - why would you? You weren't interested in each other's opinions - and it didn't interfere with your work, which is why Hotch didn't say anything about it. It annoyed him, but he had also noticed that the quality of your work was higher when you were at each other's throats than when you worked separately.

You couldn't even remember why you had been so hostile to each other from the beginning. It was mutual antipathy, but no one knew why. You didn't know each other from anywhere else, had never met anywhere. Actually, you were someone who gave people a chance first to get to know them reasonably, but with Spencer it only took one look before you were sure you definitely didn't like him. Was it his aura? His charisma? His constant need to be smarter than everyone else?

At first, the two of you had been holding back. You had been professional with each other, staying out of each other's way as much as possible and not exchanging more words than necessary. Everything had been fine until one day something slipped out of Spencer's mouth. The team had been sitting in the conference room discussing the latest case. You had said something about the murder weapon when Spencer had rolled his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" you had asked him, annoyed. Spencer sat up straight in his chair and grabbed the crime scene photo.

"I've never heard anything so stupid," he said, looking at you with amusement.

"Excuse me?"

"Stop it," Hotch intervened. "We don't have time for bitching. JJ, inform the department we're on our way. Wheels up in thirty."

From that moment on, there was no turning back. You tried to belittle each other, but Hotch had forbidden you to relate it to work. Teasing and mean statements were allowed, but you were not allowed to get in the way of your work. And the most important thing: no arguing in front of outsiders. The team was used to it, but if others got wind of it, it would undermine your authority. So you had to pull yourselves together at times. Which was no problem.

Once inside the police department, Hotch divided the team. "Y/L/N, Reid, you'll go to the crime scene and examine the house for any abnormalities that might indicate motive," he said, and you looked at each other with disgust in your eyes. Hotch cleared his throat and gave you a look that said, "Get your act together or I'll send you home."

On the way to the scene, the radio was playing and you hummed the tune contentedly. You almost forgot who you were in the car with if Spencer hadn't suddenly turned off the radio. You made an annoyed noise.

"I wanted to hear that."

"I know," Spencer grinned, glancing at you briefly before looking out the window again. "And that's why I turned it off."

Sometimes you could strangle him.

The house was pretty run down from the outside. Spencer and you looked at each other. "If I had to hide your body somewhere, it would be right here," you grinned, walking toward the front door.

"I won't give you the satisfaction of killing me," he said, his mouth twisting into a crooked smile. "My death should have meaning. I'm not going to let someone like you kill me over that."

The interior of the house was in complete contrast to the exterior. Every room was cleaned and tidy, there was not a speck of dust anywhere, and the way magazines, pictures, and other decorations had been laid down indicated -.

"OCD," Spencer noted. "Look, Y/N. The magazines all have the same number of pages, the picture frames on the windowsill are all the same distance apart, and -" , he opened a cabinet in the kitchen, "the handles on the cups all point in the same direction."

"So the person has damage like yours," you said, surveying the pictures in the hallway. Luckily there were only two of you, or you would have had to stifle the comment.

"Ha. Ha. I don't have OCD."

"You still have some damage. Forensics said traces of bleach were found throughout the house," you added to his insight, walking down the hall. "The unsub cleaned and left everything like this."

"And how would you know that?" asked Spencer, who had followed you. In the ceiling in the hallway was the hatch that led you to the attic.

"The pictures in the hallway are not of the victim. They're printed photos of people from the Internet. There is no connection." You climbed the ladder and what awaited you there did not surprise you. The attic was filled with junk. It seemed like everything had just been shoved in. But again, there was not a woolly mouse to be seen.

"Apparently, the unsub places a lot of importance on maintaining the appearance of orderly, clean living."

You nodded at him and pulled your phone out of your back pocket. "Garcia, please search for wealthy families where children have been hospitalized with broken bones, hematomas or other injuries," you said, and Spencer snatched the phone from your hand. Annoyed, you looked at him.

"Equate that to sports injuries again, please. Thank you," he asked her before hanging up and tossing you the phone.

"Sports injuries?" you asked him, and he nodded.

"No parents would take their child to the hospital with injuries like that without an explanation. Sports injury is a good way to disguise something like that," he explained and you left the loft. When you got back into the car, you looked at him.

"If you snatch that phone out of my hand again, you'll be the next one with a slit throat," you smiled sweetly at him.

Spencer laughed out loud. "You grow a few more inches first, then maybe you can get to my throat."

Back at the precinct, the team profiled him and shared it with detectives. The plan was to lure him out of hiding and hope he would say or do something so you could arrest him.

"Bailey is targeting young couples in their twenties and thirties who are still in the early stages of their lives. They all moved in together a few days before they died. They were all very messy, which showed not only in their apartment, but also in their style of dress," Rossi explained.

"That's why two of our team will go undercover to draw him out," Hotch continued, giving Spencer and you a meaningful look. You knew what that meant. And you weren't in the mood for that. "Agent Y/L/N and Doctor Reid will be moving into a house on the outskirts of town, in the exact area where the last victim was found. Since he likes to return to the scene of his crime, he'll take notice."

"And then what do we do?" the sheriff asked, writing diligently.

"He'll show up a few days later and then we can go get him," Emily brought the conversation to a close and the group broke up. Hotch motioned Spencer and you to come with him to an adjoining room.

"I blindsided you with the proposal, and for that I'm sorry," he said, looking from Spencer to you, "but I'm afraid we have no choice. Tomorrow morning you'll move into the house and then it's only a matter of time before he comes. Just a few days. And until then, please try not to kill each other."

Spencer and you had been sitting together all night, working out a plan. Not only did you have to pretend to be a happy couple in front of others, you had to pretend behind closed doors. And that certainly wasn't going to be easy.

"Spencer, I'm only going to ask you this once," you began. "Are you okay with me touching you? Otherwise, we'll have to figure something else out. You can't flinch when I reach for your hand or give you a kiss on the cheek, even if I don't want to do that myself."

"I can handle that," he grinned. "As long as you promise not to snuggle up to me in your sleep. Because then I'll have to vomit."

Hotch was pretty happy with your plan and wished you good luck. He didn't want to bug the house because you still needed privacy, but the whole team was on speed dial. Besides, the others would take turns watching you. You weren't afraid, but knowing the others were always there calmed you down a bit.

The next morning, Spencer and you drove to your house. It looked a lot like the last victim's house. One story and an attic, the front yard hadn't been tended in ages. Spencer parked the car in the driveway and got out first so he could open the door for you like a gentleman.

"Are you ready for our new life?" he smiled, pulling you into his arms before you headed toward the door. His perfume was so strong it clouded your mind.

"With you, I'm ready for anything," you returned, placing your lips on his cheek.

Living with Spencer was more pleasant than you had imagined. You spent most of your time together in silence, Spencer with a book and you with music or magazines. You didn't avoid each other either, but spent every second together. Spencer always helped you cook and you helped him do laundry. You even went shopping together. There were little spats in between, but otherwise you got along fine.

You also noticed some things about Spencer that had completely escaped your attention until now. For example, he always had several books lying next to him when he read one. Which made sense if he finished one of them within ten minutes. Also, he would always mouth off a little when he was talking about something that was bothering him. And when he was talking about something he liked, he spoke with an incredible passion that was contagious.

What surprised you the most was sleeping next to each other. Since you also had to pretend to be overjoyed at home, you had also planned to share a bed. It was the most sensible and the easiest. Spencer's presence even calmed you down when you woke up in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream, and his regular breathing in the evening helped you fall asleep.

On the fourth night, a nightmare jolted you from sleep. You didn't remember what exactly you had dreamed, but you knew that you wouldn't fall asleep again so quickly. As quietly as you could, you got out of bed, not wanting to wake Spencer, and went to the kitchen. You flipped on the light over the stove, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. After a big gulp, you felt better, but still worried. Tired, you leaned against the counter and rubbed your hand over your face.

"Are you alright?" asked Spencer, entering the kitchen. He was wearing a loose T-shirt and boxers. Something you hadn't noticed before.

"I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry," you said honestly, putting the glass in the sink. Spencer just smiled, "I had a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, standing next to you, you shook your head. "Okay." He was about to head back toward the bedroom, but stopped in the doorway. Spencer looked at you and you smiled weakly. He approached you again and reached for your hand. Carefully he pulled you to him and put his free hand on your lower back to press you closer to him. You laid your head against his chest and could hear his heartbeat. Then Spencer slowly rocked back and forth.

No one said a word as you danced with each other in the kitchen in the middle of the night. You enjoyed each other's presence and warmth. Spencer put a finger under your chin and made you look at him. There was no hate or dislike in his eyes. There was a twinkle in them that confused you greatly. Gently, he placed his lips on your forehead before pulling away.

"Let's go back to sleep," he smiled, pulling you by the hand back into the bedroom. In bed, he reached his arms out to you so you could lay your head on his chest. There it was again, his heartbeat. But this time it was faster, steady, but faster. Spencer reached for your hand again and intertwined your fingers. "Sleep well, Y/N," he was still whispering, but you were barely aware of it. You had never fallen asleep so quickly.

The next day, the two of you went for a walk in the evening. Spencer's hand in yours no longer felt strange, but very familiar. The whole relationship between you had changed fundamentally. There was no more bitching, no more evil glances, no more spiteful laughter. You wondered if it would stay that way when you left the house, or if you would go back to your old ways. Secretly, you hoped that you would remain friends when all this was over. Even though you had only been here a short time, you had actually grown fond of Spencer. You just hoped he felt the same way about you.

"Y/N," Spencer whispered when you reached your street.

"Huh?" You looked up at him and he smiled lovingly at you. You would never get enough of that look.

"Please look at me when I tell you this now. There's a man walking across the street, right at our level, with his hood pulled over his head," he continued to whisper and I tried not to let on. "He's been following us for two blocks. I think it's him."

I nodded. "We need to show him that we are to be his next victims," you stated. When you arrived at your house, Spencer pulled you even closer. You knew what was coming. You didn't resist, and not because it was part of your plan, but because you were waiting for it.

Spencer put his hands to your cheeks and leaned down to put his lips on yours. Your heart started racing, your knees went weak, and you felt dizzy. If Spencer hadn't been holding you, you would have slipped through his fingers. His lips were soft and warm and when you kissed him back, a grumble sounded from his chest. One of his hands moved to your butt, pressing your hips against his as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You felt hot and warm shivers ran down your spine. You tried not to think about the fact that you could feel his erection against your belly, but failed miserably.

With his other hand, Spencer reached for the key and opened the door without breaking away from you, then pushed you into the house where he could have pulled away from you, but he didn't. His kisses grew hungrier and greedier, his hands reaching under your butt so he could lift you up. Your legs knotted behind him. He carried you toward the bedroom and pressed you against the wall. You rubbed your hips against his and he moaned into your mouth.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, sliding a hand under your shirt. His fingers danced over your bare skin and his touch burned into your skin. You wished this moment would never end.

"Cameron Bailey, put the knife down and raise your hands," Derek called out. Spencer and you jumped apart, completely confused and gasping for air, and saw the team standing in your bedroom. Derek took Bailey into custody and led him away. How had you not noticed that he had come into the house?

"Are you all right?" asked Emily, but you could only nod. What would have happened if Bailey hadn't broken in? How far would Spencer and you have gone?

It wasn't long before the team was back on the plane. Spencer sat alone at one end of the plane and you at the other. You hadn't had time to talk about what had happened, because after Bailey was arrested, you had packed your things and gone to the airport with the others. But what did you want to talk about? About the kiss? About the touch? About your friendship, if you could call it that? Never in your life had you been so uncertain as at that moment.

Spencer probably didn't want anything more to do with you, and you tried to tell yourself that you were okay with that. You tried to adjust to things going back to the way they were. It scared you that deep down you cared. You had hated Spencer for years and just a few days with him had completely turned your feelings upside down. And that bothered you the most.

"I could use a beer right now," Derek said when you arrived at Quantico. "Anyone coming?"

"I'm going home," you replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "My shower is waiting for me and my bed is calling for me too."

"Same here," Spencer gave and together you walked to the elevator while the others talked about where to go to celebrate. The silence between Spencer and you was unbearable, both outside the elevator and inside. You wanted to say something, but couldn't manage more than a guarded smile, which he kindly returned. At least no more bitching.

"Good night, Y/N," he said goodbye and left without turning around once more. You took a deep breath and headed home as well.

Once home, you dropped your bag on the floor and tried to wash off Spencer's touch in the shower. You brushed your teeth to scrub his taste from your tongue, but nothing could chase away the thoughts that haunted your mind. You put on fresh panties and an oversized shirt, which ended just below your butt. You were on your way to the couch when there was a knock on your door.

Without hesitation you opened the door and your heart stopped. Spencer stood in front of you, hands buried in his pockets and a small smile on his lips. "Hi."

"Hey," you said softly, and you didn't realize until then that you were standing in front of him half-naked. Embarrassed, you pulled the hem of your shirt down further. He glanced briefly at your hands and blushed before looking you in the eye again.

"I know this probably sounds stupid, but I don't know if I'll be able to sleep alone tonight. I've gotten used to sleeping next to you and after today, I don't think either of us should spend the night alone," he babbled, entering your apartment without prompting. You shut the door behind him. "Besides, there's something I wanted to do." Carefully he put his bag on the kitchen counter and came towards you with long steps.

It was not five seconds before he pressed his mouth on yours and a sigh came out of your mouth. His hands were everywhere and nowhere at the same time, so greedily they moved over your body, while yours got caught in his hair. When his fingers grazed your bare skin on your legs, you slumped against him.

"I didn't want to let you go home alone," he whispered between kisses, looking deep into your eyes. "I didn't want to sit so far away from you on the plane either, and when I got home, all I wanted was to be with you." His tongue dominated yours as his hands slid under your shirt. Your skin burned like fire where he touched you. "Tell me to stop, Y/N. Please tell me to stop and leave. Because if you don't do it now, I'll stay forever."

You went to kiss him, but he broke away from you and grabbed your chin with one hand, making you look at him. He was expecting a response. "Stay, Spencer. Stay forever and I'm yours."

That's all the confirmation he needed. His hands were on your hips again, but moved further down to briefly stroke your ass before leaning down and grabbing the back of your thighs. Without effort, he lifted you up and his lips assaulted your neck, and as he sucked on the soft spot where your jaw met your neck, all you could do was whimper his name.

Spencer carried you into your bedroom with ease, his mouth never leaving your heated skin. The warmth in your body grew with each kiss as he gently laid you on the bed. You pushed yourself to the head of the bed, allowing your head to rest on the soft pillow as Spencers hovered over you to kiss your neck.

His lips moved to your collarbone, his hands slid under your shirt and you arched up to meet him so he could easily pull it off. Hastily you reached for his shirt and undid the buttons to rip it from his torso. His weight was heavy on you and his hot skin almost burned you with every further touch. Without a word, you unbuttoned his pants and he kicked them off his long legs. For a brief moment you looked at each other. In that look were all the apologies you wanted to say, but that was no longer important. What was important was the man in front of you, the man you had fallen head over heels in love with in just a few days.

You put your hands on Spencer's back and felt the muscles dancing under your fingers. You took a quick glance at his black boxer briefs, which already seemed a little too tight for him.

"God, you're beautiful," he moaned as he glanced down your body. His hands were on your breasts and he rolled your left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Again, you arched up to meet him.

"Spencer," you moaned, "no teasing. Please," you begged, closing your eyes to feel his touch more intensely. When you opened your eyes again, you could see a crooked grin on his face. He was enjoying your begging. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your panties and you could hear him ripping them. Cool air met your hot core and Spencer's boxers landed on the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You had to swallow. He was long and surprisingly thick and you wondered if he would fit. Spencer looked at you silently with raised eyebrows.

"I'm on the pill," you explained, grabbing his shaft with your hand and running your thumb over the tip to smear the pre-cum, making him moan with pleasure. You pumped him two times before Spencer grabbed your wrist.

"I won't last long if you keep this up, love," he rasped, guiding his pulsing erection to your wet entrance. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him so close to you that there wasn't an inch between you. He looked at you one more time, searching for something in your face, but you just smiled at him, drunk with love. And then he glided home.

His cock was stretching you like no man before did and it almost hurt, but with the pain came the pleasure. Spencer rested his forehead on yours and his breath was hot on your skin. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You leaned into his gentle touch.

"Move, please, Spence," you purred, and that was all he needed. He withdrew almost completely from you before thrusting into you again. He quickly found a steady pace and his length stroked all the right places. The heat between your thighs spiraled in your belly and you dug your nails into Spencer's back.

"Spencer, fuck," you breathed and he grinned before pressing his lips to your throat and gently biting your collarbone. Before you knew it, he was sliding his hand between your bodies and rubbing furiously over your clit and it was all getting too much for you.

Your nails raked across his skin and certainly left a few marks on as you climaxed and your vision went black.You spasmed around his cock and felt it twitch inside you. Spencer moaned a mixture of swear words and your name as he coated your walls with his cum, his fingers digging into your hips and probably bruising them.

He placed his lips on yours one last time before carefully pulling out of you and disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. "Careful, love," he says softly, running it along between your legs to wipe your mingled cum. When he touched your sensitive clit, you flinched involuntarily. He returned the washcloth to the bathroom before lying back down with you. He pulled you to him and kissed your forehead. "Can I tell you something?" he breathed, you looked up at him quite exhausted.

"Of course."

He smiled lovingly. "I've fallen head over heels in love with you in the last few days," he confessed and your heart stopped. "The moment you laid your head on my chest in bed. You turned my whole world upside down and I can't imagine spending a single day without you anymore."

"You don't have to," you replied, putting your hand to the back of his head so you could pull him down to you. Gently you placed your lips on his and you felt his cock twitch against your belly. That's how strong your effect on him was. "I love you, Spencer."

In one fluid motion, he rolled onto you and pressed his mouth onto yours. This kiss was like the one in the house, angry, hungry and greedy. His hand slid between your legs and his fingers gently circled your clit. Your legs twitched and he pushed further down so he was eye level with your cunt. Gently he slid two fingers inside you and you moaned loudly. "I love you, Y/N. Don’t you dare forget it, when I make you scream and cum around my tounge.“ He licked long stripe from your entrance to your clit and gently sucking on it. Your body shook under his tounge and touch, as he slipped to fingers into your dripping cunt again. „Are you ready for round two?"

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid one hot #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #enemies to lovers #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #Emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #Jennifer jereau #dave rossi

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sergeantbuckybarnes · 3 years

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serendipity // bucky barnes

PART ONE

Summary: You end up stuck in 1942 without a way to come back, but when you meet the young and charming version of Bucky Barnes, do you really want to go back to the present?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: lack of ‘40s knowledge

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Thanks to @punxgal for proofreading this. You’re amazing!

divider by @firefly-graphics

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“Are you sure we should be here? You know how Tony is about people in his lab,” Wanda pointed out for like the seventh time but you kept on ignoring her. Maybe you should have listened to her and you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation.

Tony didn’t allow anyone in his lab, he had his reasons, but the majority of it was because he didn’t like it when other people touched his stuff. You had the stupid idea of breaking this rule to go to see what he was working on, and of course, you bring Wanda with you, because if you are going to get in trouble you may as well involve your best friend.

You were a restless person and had the bad habit of sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. It was something most people hated about you, you did nothing to change it, but this time took the cake.

You had messed with one of Tony’s new gadgets, the lights went off, an alarm ringing so loud you had to cover your ears. Then out of nowhere, a gust of wind swirled the room.

Wanda screamed at you asking what was going on, sparks lighting up the darkroom. You could feel what felt like someone pulling you and then your body hit the ground and seconds later Wanda was laying next to you.

Pulling yourself back up onto your feet, you looked around taking in your surroundings. You weren’t in Tony’s lab anymore. You were outside, in a dark alley.

“Did Tony build a teleportation machine?” you asked confused

“Not exactly,” you turned around to see Wanda, she was holding a newspaper in her hands with a frightened look on her face. You take a look at the paper to see what got her so shaken, and you saw it, the date.

“We’re in 1942?”

Was it really possible that you had traveled back in time? Had he really figured it out? You knew Tony was a genius but a time machine it’s too much, even for him.

“What do we do now?” Wanda was looking at you as if she was waiting for you to come with a solution, after all, you were responsible for this situation. If you haven’t sniffed around Tony’s lab you wouldn’t be here right now, you would be back at the compound, safe and eating ice cream while you watch some shitty show on Netflix.

You sighed, “I don’t know”

“They’re going to come for us, right?”

“I guess. The alarms went off in the lab, so they must know that something has happened, it’s just a matter of time until they put two and two together and come to our rescue.” But you didn’t know when that’s gonna happen. “We’ll just have to wait”

“Okay,” Wanda accepted, “What do we do until then?”

You decided the best thing, for now, was to look for a place to stay. You walked out of the alley and into the streets of Brooklyn. As you walked through the crowd you could see the strange looks people were giving you, trying to get out of your way or trying not to walk close to you at all.

“Why are they looking at us like that?” you inquired.

Wanda stopped walking and grabbed your hand, pulling you to a side of the street “I think it’s the clothes” she pointed out.

“What’s wrong with our- “ you stopped your sentence when you took a look at what you were wearing. Jeans, t-shirts, boots, and leather jackets aren't the most go-to look in the ’40s.

You couldn’t walk through the streets like that. It was drawing attention and that’s the last thing you two needed right now. Wanda paused for a moment, you standing next to her, she was doubting if she should do what she had in mind or not, it was a good option, the only option you guys had. Wanda wasn’t a fan of her powers, especially with people often being scared and disgusted by her. Not that she didn’t blame them though. But it hurt you that some people didn’t see farther than her powers. She is not only your best friend, but an amazing person and who only deserves the best.

Wanda sighed. She didn’t have a choice. You looked at her and instantly knew what she wanted to do. It was one of the many reasons The Scarlet Witch was your best friend. There was no need for words to know what the other was thinking, even without her powers, there was a connection between you two.

Only a snap of her fingers and a few seconds later, you looked down to see your clothes. Your twenty-first century outfit had been replaced with a knee-length, A-line dress and a pair of peep-toe heels and your hair was now lying in loose waves. “Wow.” You looked at her with fascination that you’d always held when seeing Wanda use her powers. You didn’t understand why people could be afraid of her when she could do such wonderful things.

It was the next day when you were laying in the bed of the hostel you were staying at and the ceiling had never been more interesting. It had been more than 24 hours and still, you had no news from your friends.

You hadn’t left the room, and you were starting to feel suffocated.

“Let’s get out,” you proposed as you got up from the bed. Wanda tore her gaze from the book she was reading and looked at you like had grown a second head.

“Are you crazy? We can’t just go walking around the city like that!”

“Why not?” you pouted and sat in her bed next to her “What is the harm?”

Your careless demeanor was something that drove Wanda crazy sometimes. You never thought about the consequences your actions could have and you two being stuck more than seventy years in the past was the perfect example of that. And now you wanted to go out and have fun as if this were a normal Friday for you.

The witch sighed and closed the book in her hands. “We’re not home, (Y/N). We cannot go and parade around the city like we belong here.”

“I just want to have some fun!”

“You wanting to have fun is what had brought us here in the first place.” Wanda muttered under her breath, you weren’t supposed to hear it, but you did. You got up abruptly from the bed and made your way to the door.

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t reply to her as you left the room, closing the door behind you as you made your way out of the building and into the streets of New York. You knew you were acting childish and you knew Wanda was right but you were too proud to let her know that.

You walked through the streets with no particular destination in mind, you just needed the air hitting on your face. You had walked for at least twenty minutes when you spotted a building that caught your eye. A dance hall.

You crossed the street and made your way into the building. Jazz music flooded your ears as soon as you entered even though the club wasn't that large. It had enough room for various couples to be able to dance and that’s all that seemed to be needed. This scene was so different from what you were used to. It felt different but in a good way. You couldn't help but feel struck by the feeling that you were born in the wrong decade. You’d have loved to live like this.

As your eyes explored the room, you spotted a short man aside from the crowd that you couldn’t help but recognize. You narrowed your eyes, trying to get a better glimpse of him. Oh my god... He was so much different now, but you would recognize the face of Steve Rogers anywhere.

You turned to leave as soon as you recognised him. Steve couldn’t see you. Yes, he had no idea who you were yet, but he’ll meet you in the future and this could affect all manners of things. What if you do something that changes the past and affects the future and- Now you were panicking, your mind running a mile per hour, trying to get out there when you turned and slammed straight into someone.

“Careful, doll.” That voice, why did it sound so familiar to you? You looked up into the eyes of the man in front of you and there he was. A young Bucky Barnes. With those steel-blue eyes, full of joy and that charming smile that never left his face. This version of him, at least. The Bucky you knew was nothing like the man that currently stood in front of you.

“You okay?” he asked worriedly, and it was then you realized that you had been staring at him for too long.

You looked away quickly, muttering a quick, “Y-Yeah, sorry.”

You tried to walk past him and keep your original plan of leaving the club. If talking to Steve was a bad idea, talking to Bucky wasn’t a better one. As soon as you made to leave, Bucky grabbed your upper arm gently, turning your heels so you were facing him again.

“Come on, doll. You can’t leave me like that,” the smile never left his face and you thought how strange it was to see him smile so much. Nowadays, it was a rarity to see Bucky smile, not that you could blame him for his broody demeanor after everything that he has been through. But now you couldn’t shake how damn beautiful he looked with a smile adorning his features. “You own me at least one dance.”

He held his hand to you, and you knew you should have refused, it was the worst idea and it could affect the future but you weren’t known for making the right choices. So, you took his hand and danced through your second mistake of the night.

It was late when you walked into the room, but Wanda was still up, waiting for you on her bed. She was doing her typical ‘scolding a child’ pose and she could be intimidating when she wanted to.

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

You bit your bottom lip, a habit you had when you were nervous. “I fucked up….again”

His hands were on your back with yours wrapped around his shoulders. You swayed to the slow melody the band was playing.

“So… I don’t think I got your name,”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” His shameless flirting made you chuckle as you’d heard the stories from Steve about Bucky’s amazing luck with the ladies. But now that you had that same man in front of you, his hand wrapped around your middle and dancing so close to you, you could see why so many women fell for him. He really had a game.

“What about you, Romeo? Can I get your name?”

“Bucky Barnes” he smirked. As you kept dancing to the sound of the music, his eyes never left yours, not for even a second, and you wished in that moment that you had the power to read his mind.

He tightened his hands on your back as he leaned a little to be closer to you. “How is it that I have never seen you around before?”

“I’m just passing by” You simply state, not technically lying to him. You still held hope that your friends were working on a way to bring you home.

“Does that mean I’m not gonna see you again?” His voice sounded disappointed, almost sad.

He brought one of the hands that were resting on your back to your face, caressing your cheek gently. Cupping your jaw, he looked into your eyes, asking for permission. When you didn’t do anything to stop him, he closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. His lips were soft as they brushed gently against your own and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed you with so much tenderness. Bucky has only known you for a few hours and his kiss had more meaning than any of the kisses you had received from any of your previous relationships. It was something you didn’t know you craved until now, so you let yourself get lost in the kiss, melting into the third mistake of the night.

“What the hell, (Y/N)!” Wanda raised her voice at you. “Do you have any idea of what you have done?”

“I just- I couldn’t help myself,” you defended yourself, “You should have seen him… I couldn’t tell him no.”

“Since when do you have feelings for Bucky?”

“I don’t!”

“It doesn’t sound like it…. and it definitely doesn’t look like it. You practically light up every time you mention his name!” pointing accusingly at you.

You weren’t lying when you said you don’t have feelings for Bucky. You had barely talked to the man since Steve brought him to the compound. You didn’t know anything about him other than what basic information everyone already knew.

He was quiet and shy, spending most of his time locked in his room. The times he did come out, he only spoke with Steve and Sam. He tried to stay out of the way of everyone, not wanting to be a burden.

“What did you do after the kiss?” Wanda asked, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“I ran away...”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

Note

elmosolyodni for the wordstuck prompts 💕

elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

read on ao3

As much as he wanted it to be, as much as he wanted it for himself, Eddie’s never been great at romance.

His proposal to Shannon was more like a suggestion, a stuttering statement that tumbled out of him when she showed him the positive test six months after their first date. And he didn’t give it much thought again — didn’t have time to think about it — until a couple months into his tour, when his team was swapping stories about wives and husbands over dinner and someone asked, “So Diaz, how’d you pop the question?”

The fact that he didn’t have a story to tell stung more than he thought it would.

He tried to make it up to her — bought her flowers when he was home, took her out for their anniversary every year, but between parenthood and redeployment and the growing chasm between them when he came back the second time, any notion of romance felt harder and harder to hold onto. And when she left, amid the panic and shame and anger, there was also a sadness, a resignation that the romance he’d quietly craved just wasn’t meant for him. He had bills to pay, a kid to take care of, a life to rebuild. Sweeping gestures from him or for him no longer seemed important.

That all changed when he met Buck, as most things in his life did.

Even before they started dating, Eddie wanted to do things for Buck. He wanted to buy him the shirt in the window display that reminded him of his eyes, wanted to make sure that they always had his weird Icelandic yogurt in the fridge for when he stayed over, wanted to wrap him up when he got that broken look on his face and remind him that he is loved by everyone and especially by Eddie. It was a physical need, one he felt in his gut every time, but he’d shut that part of himself off so firmly that all he could do was hope it didn’t linger too long. Buck needed a friend, and he’d be damned if he did anything stupid enough to ruin what they already had, what they’d already built.

It took a bullet ripping through his abdomen to make him realize what a terrible idea that had been.

But a year later wounds are healed, PT is long done, and he wakes up next to Buck every morning feeling happier than he has in almost a decade. He gets to buy the shirt for him, stock up on yogurt, and press himself into Buck’s space until his eyes get their spark back. He can fantasize about the house they’ll buy or the dogs they’ll adopt once Chris moves out.

He can see a titanium ring in the display case of the jewelry store at the mall and perfectly imagine what it would look like on Buck’s finger.

And he can make it all the way to his truck after buying it before the panic starts to set it.

He doesn’t register driving to Maddie and Chim’s until he’s frantically knocking on the door, hoping he heard Buck right and that Maddie’s off today taking care of a sick Jee-yun. The door flies open, and he sees Maddie’s face go from pissed to surprised to confused as she zeros in on the velvet box held limply in his hand.

“Uh, Eddie, that’s really sweet, but there are a lot of reasons why this would never work.”

His laugh is borderline hysterical as he gently pushes into the apartment. “It’s for Buck, but I— we haven’t really— I don’t even know if—” He doesn’t realize he’s pacing until Maddie takes his elbow and steers him to the couch, hands him a glass of water, and pushes him to sit.

“Breathe. Drink,” she says, and he does as his mind keeps spinning. She sets the empty glass on the coffee table and sits in the armchair across from him. “Okay. You want to propose. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course.” It’s the best thing, at the very top of a list of things he thought were untoppable.

“Have you guys talked about getting married?”

It wasn’t so much a conversation as a shift in language — one day the phrase “if we get married” changed to “when we get married” and neither of them thought twice about it because it felt so right.

“Sort of,” he settles on.

“And you’re sure he’d say yes?”

“Yes.” There’s few things in life he’s ever been so sure of, no matter what his earlier panic was making him think.

“So what’s the problem?”

He slumps back on the couch, hands running through his hair. “I don’t know how to do it.”

Maddie squints at him. “Eddie, it’s a pretty hard thing to mess up. And you’ve already been married, so don’t you have some practice?”

“That was different,” he says. “Shannon was already pregnant, it was more like a to-do list item than anything else. I didn’t even get her a ring until a couple months later.”

“Well you’re already a step ahead there, so that’s good.”

He sighs, pulling the ring box out of his pocket again and opening it. The thin line of silver running through the black glints in the sunlight, and he can still picture Buck wearing it so clearly, he’s just not sure how it gets there. All he knows is this aching need he can feel in his chest to make sure that however he does it, it’s enough — more than enough — that Buck knows exactly how deep his love runs, exactly how desperately Eddie needs him in his life and by his side.

Maddie moves to sit next to him and takes the box, and Eddie falls back into the cushions again. “I just want it to be perfect for him,” he says quietly. “Romantic. All the stuff people dream about when they think about getting engaged. But I have no idea how to do that.”

Maddie studies the ring for a minute before shutting the box, pressing it into his hand until he looks her in the eye. Her gaze is steady, piercing, and very (scarily) reminiscent of her brother’s. “You are asking him to marry you. It’s already perfect.” The reassurance helps, and it’s easy to smile back at her when she squeezes his hand.

“But,” she says, reaching for a pen and notebook on the coffee table, “a little romance never killed anyone, so let’s make some lists and figure out what you do and don’t want to do.”

Lists sound good. Eddie can work with lists.

“Rule number one,” she says, already scribbling, “no sporting events. Nothing kills the mood faster than seeing your face on a Jumbotron…”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, none of the lists really matter.

Because two weeks later, they’re sitting on the back patio after dinner, night air cool and lit up around them by the lights Chris insisted on hanging for his last backyard sleepover. Buck’s going on about a patient who tried to insist he could do CPR on himself, and Eddie’s hypnotized by his enthusiasm, the expressiveness of his hands and the joyful blush on his cheeks. He says something that makes both of them laugh, bubbling through the quiet of the neighborhood, and Eddie knows, immediately and with every part of him.

He has to ask Buck now. It’s not the candlelit dinner and walk on the beach he’d decided on with Maddie, nor is it even close to as big and bold as anything else they’d come up with. But none of that matters now because his skin is buzzing and his heart is pounding and he doesn’t want the ring burning in his pocket a minute longer — he wants to swear himself to Buck right here, in this moment that is extraordinarily ordinary and perfectly them. This is a story he wants to tell people over and over, to their family and friends and anyone else who will listen.

The universe must still be trying to make up for the hell it put him through last year, because the playlist coming through their portable speaker changes to something softer, romantic, and Eddie takes his chance before he talks himself out of it.

“Dance with me,” he says, standing and offering his hand to Buck.

“I’m sorry, are my stories boring?” Buck laughs as he takes his hand, folding into Eddie’s space like he’s always meant to be there, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.

“Never,” Eddie says, and he pauses, because the one thing he and Maddie didn’t talk about was what he actually wanted to say to Buck when he asked. And now that he’s here with very little preparation, the huge, all-encompassing feelings he has for Buck refuse to be wrangled into a few measly sentences. None of the words he can think of feel big enough to capture how deeply his love runs, and he can feel his skin start buzzing for a much more unpleasant reason.

Hands squeeze his waist, zoning him back in and focusing him on Buck, on the crease between his eyebrows and the worry around his mouth. “Everything okay?” he asks, because he always knows when Eddie gets lost in himself, sometimes even before Eddie figures it out.

Buck knows him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t need big, poetic monologues for Buck to understand what’s going on inside his head.

The buzzing changes again, fueling his determination as he slips his hand into his pocket. “I love you. So much it’s almost scary. But I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life without you,” he holds the ring up between them, “so will you marry me?”

Buck freezes, stopping them both from swaying with the music. Eddie watches his eyes flit between the ring and Eddie and back again, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Finally, Buck’s eyes lock on Eddie and stay there, a soft smile growing and growing until it’s so incandescently bright that Eddie’s afraid he might have to look away or risk losing his vision.

And then, just as quickly, Buck drops his hands from Eddie’s waist and runs back into the house.

Eddie honestly isn’t sure what to make of this, the only thought running through his head being what the fuck just happened here. But then Buck’s running back outside, still smiling and not-so-secretly holding something behind his back, and now it’s Eddie’s turn to glow.

“You’re joking,” he says quietly, cheeks already hurting from a smile that feels permanent and eyes feeling a little wet.

Buck shakes his head, his eyes shining too as he holds up the velvet box. “Bought it like a month ago when Chris and I went to buy him a new backpack, I had to bribe him with a new video game to keep him quiet. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell Maddie yet.”

Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if the sheer amount of joy coursing through his veins was making him float a couple inches off the ground. “Is that a yes then?” he asks.

Buck’s laugh is loud and sharp, and Eddie can’t think of a more perfect sound. He takes the ring out and tosses the box aside, holding it up next to the one in Eddie’s hand. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”

It’s a flurry, then, of rings on fingers and breathless kisses and whispers of I love you, I love you so much. The whirlwind settles and they start swaying to the music again, holding each other even closer, and Eddie revels in the new weight on his hand that ties them together. He feels light and loved, completely enveloped in this romance that he’s finally able to give fully and receive just as well.

Buck takes his hand and places a kiss just below his ring, and Eddie knows this is just the beginning. They have a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of them, and Eddie finally feels like he deserves it.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #can i offer you all some proposal fluff in these trying times???#alicia i'm sorry this took forever!!!#ficcery

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milkyway-writes · 3 years

Text

i’m not ready for that s.r.

pairing: Steve Rogers x black!Reader (anyone could read though)

summary: Even though Steve has been living in modern times for a couple of years now, he still finds himself not used to the present, especially when it comes to women. But when he meets you, an outspoken girl who completely embodies the kind of woman “he’s not ready for,” Steve is forced to reevaluate what he wants.

warnings: 18+, explicit language, dry humping, unprotected sex, sex in a hotel room, a small age gap (but not mentioned much), probably some typos and/or bad grammar, disregard for card games and 60′s music

word count: 2,828

author’s note: This is my first time writing a fic! So, tell me what you think and if you’d like more stuff from me.

After waking up in a world filled with people dressed in unfamiliar clothing, using confusing language, and carrying around these tiny devices they called “phones,” Steve experienced the expected amount of disassociation. He said things which earned him weird looks, struggled to understand modern references, and sometimes secretly wished he could just go back to his own time.

But if anything, Steve Rogers was determined.

He kept a notepad to track the new things he learned and reviewed them in his spare time. He made an effort to listen to the radio and watch popular TV shows. Steve even managed to tailor his wardrobe to a certain degree. Except for the khakis. The khakis were essential.

Despite his acclimation and newfound understanding of the 21st century, Steve still struggled with women. And in all honesty, he doesn’t even feel that open to dating. He’s completely content with simply working and living his life, romance not much of a priority of his.

But Natasha keeps pushing it.

“What about that girl from accounting?” she says, “Laura, Lisa…”

"Lillian,” Steve answers, “lip piercing, right?"

"Yeah, she's cute."

"Yeah, I'm not ready for that.”

•••••

So, when you show up with a total disregard for authority, a smile that could fool the devil, and a snarky attitude all complete with a cute little nose piercing, Steve doesn’t quite know what to do with you.

Your words are much bolder than any woman he knew from the 40’s. You behave with a certain level of confidence and self-assuredness that it’s impossible to believe that you’re only in your twenties. And you don’t shy away from showing men up, never one to hold your tongue. Steve notices that you don’t mind interrupting people. You seem to get a glint in your eye each time he clenches his jaw after you’ve cut him off.

Everything about you is overwhelming to Steve.

Any time he tries to correct you, you scoff, blowing air through your plump lips. Always rolling those brown eyes in annoyance. (It makes Steve want to scream.)

Nothing is ever easy with you. There is always a rebuttal, or some type of teasing remark, or simply a look that tells him “you can’t tell me what to do.” It enrages him. Steve doesn’t think he has ever met a person who could find a way to fight him on every single thing.

Now, as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips, freshly-manicured nails on display, Steve wonders how he’ll ever manage to get through to you.

•••••

You hadn’t known much about Captain America before you’d agreed to work with him and Natasha when S.H.I.E.L.D. started falling apart.

You had been working for the agency for a while now, assisting in the capture of criminal individuals as a sort of immunity for your own crimes. Your skills were too valuable to waste, and honestly, they knew you’d escape any prison they put you in anyway. Despite this, you weren’t the most reliable.

You often took risks, and your youth raised a sort of concern amongst other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. No one trusted a girl whose main motivation to be an agent was to avoid prison. And because of this, Nick Fury did not bring you on for the Avengers Initiative right away. You needed time to grow, time to figure out your priorities.

For two years, you focused on your development, learning how to control your abilities and use them most effectively, and in the meantime, you only took on small missions. You were happy with this, so happy that when Fury began reaching out to you with the intent to bring you back on for more advanced missions, you promptly avoided them.

One quiet afternoon, you were feeling the soil of your succulent, trying to figure out if the plant needed watering when you got the call that Nick Fury was pronounced dead.

Immediately, your stomach dropped.

Your mind was racing as you rushed to the hospital, hoping that this was all some sick joke. A test. Something Fury had comprised to teach you a lesson.

Natasha noticed as you stood frozen at the door of the hospital room. Your heart ached seeing him lie there lifeless.

While you pretended that you didn’t care about him, Fury had always been important to you. He had given you a second chance when you didn’t even think you deserved it. He saw potential in you when others saw you as a delinquent. This grief, coupled with the knowledge that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been compromised, led you to agree to work with Natasha and her new friend, Steve Rogers.

•••••

Since the beginning, your presence had been an immediate concern to Steve. Along with your untamed attitude, he didn’t like the way you would make hasty decisions that left him wondering if you were still alive. He had to bite his tongue at your stubbornness. And each roll of your eyes pushed Steve further and further to the edge. After a while, he had had enough and pulled you to the side to express his disapproval.

You stare at him expectantly with your hands still on your hips, waiting to hear why he’s singled you out.

He lets out a breath, “these antics of yours have got to stop.”

You instantly laugh. Because he has to be kidding.

It takes everything in him to remain calm when you flash him a smile and saunter away, throwing a “oh loosen up, Captain,” over your shoulder.

He has to stop himself from watching your hips sway. He catches your wrist. “No. Not ‘loosen up.’ You need to be more responsible.”

“Well you need to understand that I’m not a soldier,” you yank your arm back. “I’ll follow your plan,” you offer, “but sometimes things don’t go as planned and we have to make adjustments,” you say, speaking slowly as if Steve’s a child.

He steps closer, now towering over your small frame. “Your ‘adjustments’ almost always result in dangerous situations.”

“Really?” You cock your head to the side, “Is that right?”

He narrows his eyes at you.

“So, this is coming from the man who jumped out of an elevator?” Your perfectly arched eyebrow raises tauntingly. “Right?”

You chuckle as he rolls his eyes. You don’t miss the hint of a smile in them.

•••••

You do eventually try to be more of a team player, sticking to the plan when you can. You figured you’d be working with them more often, so it was in your best interest to make yourself easy to work with. Your efforts don’t go unnoticed.

Steve is grateful that you don’t pull any surprises when the Winter Soldier makes his attack. The revelation that it was his best friend already enough to throw him off.

Surprisingly, when Steve decides to go after Bucky, you offer to join him and Sam. Your excuse being that you don’t trust two men to get the job done.

Honestly, you just didn’t want to go back to your life before. Working with Steve was exciting. He was exciting. The way he’d catch your eyes after you’d say something snarky made your stomach flip because there was a hint of a threat in them.

You enjoyed the way he wasn’t afraid to touch you. He liked to grab your arm and pull you to him when you didn’t listen. He’d once backed you up against a wall when he thought you weren’t telling him the full story pertaining to the mission. And while he was angry, you couldn’t help wondering what it’d be like to have him take you right then and there.

You had come to terms with the fact that you wanted Steve Rogers. You just didn’t know if he’d want someone like you. You were aware that he probably hadn’t encountered many women like you in his past life.

•••••

While your eye rolls and sassy comments do remain, Steve finds himself enjoying your presence despite himself. The struggle between the two of you slowly morphing into playful teasing, teetering the line between that and sexual tension.

“How’d you end up here anyway?” Steve asks as he lays down an ace of spades.

You grimace and tuck your king of hearts back into your hand in embarrassment. “We’re on a mission, silly.” You giggle, the diamond in your nose catching the light.

“Mhm very funny,” he says. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You don’t say anything. The only sound coming from your breathing and the Solomon Burke song that’s playing through your phone speaker.

You hum along as you pretend to search your hand for a card to play.

Steve nudges your knee. You’re not sure if it’s because you haven’t answered him or because you still haven’t put down a card.

“You mean how’d I end up doing this? Working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

He nods.

“It’s a long story,” you manage to let out.

“We’ve got time.”

You sigh and place your cards down on the mattress knowing you were gonna lose anyway.

“A while back, I lost someone…someone very important to me,” you say, “and all I wanted was to hurt the people who took them from me.” You glance up to meet Steve’s eyes, “one thing led to another, and I sort of lost myself. I hurt people in ways I never intended to, caused the kind of pain that,” you search for the words, “that I had always been so afraid to feel.”

“I was so blinded by rage,” you shake your head, “I just completely forgot my morals.”

You feel the bed shift, and Steve reaches out for your hand.

“Long story short, Fury offered me a job. Said I could use my skills for good. And next thing you know I’m going on these crazy missions and catching ‘bad guys,’” you say using finger quotes.

You sigh, “you must think the absolute worst of me now, huh?”

Steve chuckles, “no, not at all.” He pauses and his eyebrows crease. “It actually makes me respect you more.”

You let out a laugh, “well then, sir, you are most definitely twisted.”

He shrugs, “maybe I am.”

You notice that he never let go of your hand, and for a second you swear you feel a flutter in your abdomen. Lightly, you slide your fingers up his arm, tracing the veins. He doesn’t move or protest. Instead, he brings his other hand to rest on your knee. You look up at him as his hand moves from your knee up your thigh, gripping you firmly where your shorts end.

Steve looks at you for approval, and when you nod, he pulls you in by your hips and leans in, letting his lips ghost over yours.

You haven’t felt like this in awhile, and it takes a lot of strength to hold back a whine. Steve continues to tease you, only letting his lips lightly touch yours while rubbing circles into your hips under your shirt. Impatiently, you link your hands together behind his head, and when you grasp the hair at the nape of his neck, Steve finally leans in, letting his lips press against yours.

Almost instantly, you climb onto his lap, straddling him. The playing cards from earlier are hastily pushed aside as Steve scoots back, bringing you with him.

His hands find your hips again as he sucks on your bottom lip. You softly grind into him, causing Steve to groan into your mouth. He works to control himself. He hadn’t expected it to feel this way with you. So desperate, so needing.

You can feel his hardness through the material of his sweatpants, making your arousal even more apparent.

Steve leans down to kiss your neck. The feeling of his tongue makes you buck your hips, searching for some type of friction. His hand travels up your side and comes to cup one of your breasts. He runs his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden.

This must give him an idea as he moves to pull your shirt over your head. He grabs you again and takes your nipple in his mouth. You moan, continuing to grind onto him as his hands cup your ass. At this point, you’re sure that your arousal is leaking through your shorts.

Steve feels completely lost in you, your body setting him on fire and awaking something within him he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

He continues his assault on your breasts as you fight to control your arousal. You feel his cock twitch under you. “Please, Steve,” you say breathlessly.

“Please what?” He mumbles around your breasts.

“I need you.”

Those seem to be the words he needed as Steve promptly flips you over, roughly yanking your shorts down. He tosses his shirt off as you grab onto the waistband of his pants, urging him to take them off. He pushes you back on the bed, leaning over you. You feel his knee press into your cunt and let out a moan.

Steve grabs your face, kissing you sloppily, and trails his hand down your body. You nearly grind onto his hand as he places his thumb over your clit and rubs slow circles over it.

“You like that, honey?” He teases as he rubs you over your panties.

You nod, biting your lip.

He grabs your chin, “I said do you like it? Answer me.”

You cry out, “yes, Steve yes,” You whimper, “please I need more.”

He scoffs, “who would’ve thought to get you to act right, I’d just have to play with this pretty pussy?”

You let out a pitiful whine.

“Now you wanna be a good girl huh?”

You’re afraid you’re going to cum just from his words when he stops and drags your panties down so slowly that you want to scream. The smug look on Steve’s face makes your face burn. He’s enjoying this too much.

Once they’re off, Steve settles between your thighs, making you look him in the eyes before reaching his hand down and dragging the head of his cock from your folds to your clit. You moan as he gently taps it against your clit a few times and makes a comment about how wet you are. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he lines himself up at your entrance. Steve groans as he eases into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper.

He bottoms out, and you both moan. Steve begins to thrust, and you’re already so worked up that you know you won’t last long. He brings his hand down to rub your clit causing you to cry out.

His thrusts become more forceful. Your eyes close tightly, your sharp nails digging into his shoulders. He leans his forehead against yours, “I know you want it, sweetheart. I know you wanna cum.”

His words shock you but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core.

“Come on, honey, cum for me.” Steve says as he thrusts into you. Your walls spasm around his cock, causing him to groan into your neck. He never lets up on his thrusts though, continuing to slam into you as your first orgasm ripples through your body.

“You feel so good around my cock, baby,” he brings a hand up to lightly wrap around your neck.

You groan in response feeling your abdomen tighten once again.

You can tell Steve is close now, his thrusts becoming frantic and rushed. You clutch onto him as the sounds of slapping skin fill the room. Your name falling off of his lips repeatedly in your ear.

“Cum inside me, Steve,” you plead, “I wanna feel you.” He groans at your words, and you feel his hand tighten around your throat. You look at him, and his eyes are dark with lust, you feel yourself clench around his length. The look he’s giving you fills you with a primal need. You plead one more time, pushing Steve over the edge. His thrusts begin to slow, the feeling of him filling you up is enough to bring about another orgasm.

You find it difficult to keep your eyes open. Sleep begins to take you, and you drift off with Steve guiding you to lay your head on his chest.

With one hand caressing the side of your head, Steve stares up at the ceiling of the hotel room, Nina Simone’s voice floating out of your phone.

“It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me,”

“And I’m feeling good.”

•••••

Initially, seeing a girl like you would have made Steve doubt himself.

But now, he knows he’s ready for you as he sits next to you holding your hand as you prepare to get your first tattoo.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x black!reader #black reader #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america x reader #enhanced!reader #steve rogers x enhanced!reader #captain america smut #chris evans

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myhoneststudyblr · 4 years

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every single student in the world has likely procrastinated at some point - i know i definitely have! sometimes i think it can be quite helpful because means that you don't spend every minute of every day studying... but on the other hand, it can become very hard to beat. there are so many advice posts in the community on this topic but i thought that i would share my own tips!

disclaimer: everyone studies differently and these are my personal tips. they may not work for you but they can be a good starting point

What is Procrastination?

i found this little summary of procrastinating on the internet and thought it completely covered everything that i wanted to say on this point:

Procrastination is the habit of delaying an important task, usually by focusing on less urgent, more enjoyable, and easier activities instead. It is different from laziness, which is the unwillingness to act.

Procrastination can restrict your potential and undermine your career. It can also disrupt teamwork, reduce morale, and even lead to depression and job loss. So, it's crucial to take proactive steps to prevent it.

The first step to overcoming procrastination is to recognize that you're doing it. Then, identify the reasons behind your behavior and use appropriate strategies to manage and overcome it.

- How to Stop Procrastinating by Mindtools

so what is learnt from this is that:

procrastination is not being lazy

it is avoiding tasks by doing other easier tasks

it can have negative effects

you need to proactively take steps to avoid it

first, recognise the procrastinating then use strategies to break the cycle

Conventional Tips

these are the basic tips that are some of the most well-known strategies for ending procrastination and can be some of the most important steps!

1. get organised. tidy up your desk to study space because there is nothing worse than having to work in a place that is chaotic and mess. collect the information you need for the task, for example, notes you've made or a textbook.

2. to-do lists are your friend. a lot of people (including me) really struggle with timetables for studying because it can seem really structured and there is no flexibility or real allowance for things that may crop up during the day (your food takes longer to cook, you have to unexpectedly do a task around the house, you get a really bad headache and need to take a break). in my opinion, to-do lists help solve this problem! you can clearly see the tasks that you want to get done for the day but you don't have stressful time constraints. personally, i always use todoist to keep track of everything. to-do lists also make it easier to break tasks down

3. break the task down. one of the biggest cause of procrastination is having a huge task or project ahead of you because it seems really daunting and where on earth are you even going to start? so break it down *completely*. in your to-do list, don't just write ‘german homework’, write down even task that you need to do within it and be specific: for example ‘pg. 11 ex 4a, 4b and 4c’, ‘textbook listening task on pg. 47′ and ‘250-word essay on social media in Germany’. breaking it down makes the tasks seem more attainable and when you’ve done one and you can cross it off your list, it gives you a boost to keep going

4. eliminate distractions. this is a big one. even if you do all of the above, if you are constantly being distracted by things, you aren't going to get much done. try to find a place that is quiet enough that you can focus and you feel comfortable studying in. as well as this you need to think about what to do with your phone as the likelihood is that this will be the most distracting thing. you can simply turn it off, put on do not disturb, leave it in another room or use and app like forest (that last one is what i use and i don't know where i would be without it!)

5. use incentives. finishing a task is an achievement so treat it like one! before you study, decide on something that you will give yourself as a reward for doing it. this may be watching that new episode of your favourite programme or a tasty snack!

6. set timers. don't just launch yourself into a task, because that again can make it seem daunting and feel unending. rather, set a timer for a specific time because you’ll know that you just need to focus for that specific length of time and then you can go take a break and do something nice. for timing your study sessions, you could use the Pomodoro technique

7. allow for breaks (but try to avoid long ones). you are not a machine and as much as it would be great to be able to, you cant study for hours on end without giving your mind a break from focusing. so schedule in break time for yourself, particularly for times that you know your motivation dips, and do something nice. but be very careful that you don't accidentally slip back into procrastinating habits and keep breaks short. unless you are very disciplined it is unlikely that an hour-long break will stay just an hour.

8. know how you study but don’t be afraid to mix it up. everyone studies differently and so there are going to be some study methods that work better for some than others. so try to make sure that you are studying smart and that you aren't wasting your own time cause that can be incredibly unmotivating. HOWEVER, if there is anything that I’ve learnt from online school its that doing the same task all the time, every day is mind-numbingly boring and you just want to do anything else. so try to switch up what you are doing. if you usually just type notes from the textbook, maybe try doing it in a mindmap one week, or on flashcards, maybe do some practise questions to keep your mind engaged.

9. play music. now this one really depends on the person and how you study. some people need absolute silence and that is fine, but others need something to fill the silence or maybe cover up background noise (for example if you live in a busy household). try to pick music however that is not going to distract you - the key tips for this is to pick music without lyrics. this can be classical music, video game music, or general ‘chill’ music (there are so many playlists out there for chill studying music). i personally listen to Francesco Parrino religiously while studying because he does piano covers of pop songs, so i know the songs and enjoy them but there are no lyrics that can distract me

10. stay hydrated, well-rested and not hungry. this is part of eliminating distractions because if you are thirsty, you are going to be thinking about how you want a drink; if you are tired, you are going to be thinking about how tired you are; if you are hungry, you are going to be thinking about what you want for lunch or whatever. make sure you are hydrated, well-rested and not hungry so you can focus solely on your task or work.

Unconventional Tips

these are some slightly more unusual tips that you might not have seen before but that I've nevertheless found very useful!

1. video yourself or do a timelapse. this is something that I’ve only recently done because i saw a tip on this from someone during my quarantine challenge and thought that it would be cool to do. and it really works! i did it twice once when i was typing notes and a second time when i was handwriting notes and it really made me focus on what is as doing because the video put some pressure on me to look like i was properly studying - i could take a 5-minute break in the middle of my work to mess around with my pen, I just had to keep going so it really forces you to do the work. also watching the video when i was done made me really proud cause i had visual proof of how much i completed!

2. accept that some days you are going to get very little done. this may seem a little bit odd to put on a post that is meant to avoid getting nothing done but it’s actually a very important thing to remember. sometimes you need to take days off because otherwise you are going to burnout and some days you are just not going to be in the right mindset for studying because maybe you are exhausted after a big exam, or you have a headache or you feel unwell. you just need to accept it, draw a line under it, take time for yourself, and resolve yourself to work tomorrow once you feel a bit better. there is no shame in taking time to make sure you stay healthy. if you can, try to get your quickest, easiest task done so you have some sense of accomplishment.

3. ‘churn it out and f**k off’. this was my mum’s motto when she was studying and working in academia. and she recently told it to me when i was getting stressed about all the big tasks during online school. i am a perfectionist and i always want to hand in my very best work, put 100% into everything, but honestly that is impossible. some days you just need to get stuff done and if that isn't your very best then it doesn't matter too much because at least you got it done. and once you get it done you can just forget about it.

4. ask a friend or parent to check up on you. when you are studying by yourself it can be hard to motivate yourself because you know that no ones actually going to check whether you made those votes or did the reading, so ask a friend or someone you live with to check whether you've done the work or get them to read essays. you then get an external reason to study or do your tasks because you need to show them something.

5. rephrase how you think of tasks. when you think that ‘you need to do this task’ or ‘you have to get this done’, a lot of the time this causes unneeded stress and anxiety that is not going to help you at all. also it makes it seem like you are being forced to do something and human beings generally don't act great when they are forced to do something. so try to change your language when thinking about task into one that is more forgiving such as ‘i choose to do this project so that i can go meet my friends tomorrow’ and ‘i choose to read this book now because it will help me in the lecture next week’. this is probably the most difficult strategy on this list and it will take a lot of practice (i am certainly still practising it) but in the long term, it can help you change the way in which you view studying for the better.

✨✨✨

i hope this was helpful and that these tips will be useful, and perhaps you've discovered some new ones! if anyone has anything to add please feel free to reply or reblog with the advice <3

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daredevilexchange · 2 years

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Want to be featured here? Head to this page and fill in the form!

See what this is about here, or if you’re using the app here.

What’s your fannish ID? Hello there! 👋🏻 I am AndanielLight but you can call me 'An'. I go by she / her pronouns, and I've only joined one (1) organized fandom event all my life where I was one of the content creators. And... Oh, by the way, English isn't my first language.

What types of fanworks do you create? I've been writing and posting my amateur fanworks on AO3 (link: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andaniellight) since 2015 - I've never used a Beta for all of them, so it's been just me and me alone all this time. Meanwhile, I started doing digital drawing with Medibang software since 2020, and am a self-taught digital artist ever since.

What are your favourite types of fanworks, when you’re not creating? Honestly? Absolutely everything, no biggie. Creating something, or to try something new in order to sate your own desire on I Wish This Thing Exists, is *hard* my dudes. So I'll take whatever handed to me, cause, I find that every creations are admirable on their own respective ways. Endearing. Effort always counts in the most unironic ways, tbh. And as long as all the creators out there realize that whether the result is likeable or not (to the creators themselves), at least they've past this step that is much more important than "attracting audience that they can interact with", which is: They're progressing better at handling themselves. So, keep 'em coming! Keep creating and be a God! 😄

What do you like in particular about this fandom? Not going to lie, I am - really intimidated by Marvel fandom, or just- Marvel in general, I guess. I only consume and observe from afar, not wanting to get close at all. I don't read their infinite comics, nor their lores, so I don't know what the fuck is going on outside of what's happening on those boxoffice movies either. Their universe is just - too big for me to navigate, so. There's that.

As for Daredevil... I just started binge-watching the series in January this year, while I had some spare times from work. I didn't have access to watch the series before until I finally got a job. I heard a lot of crazy stuff about it years ago, which is WILD to know there were people being dead-silent on Charlie Cox's Matt Murdock cameo on the NWH and its screening too?????? Unbelievable. But anyways, I finished Daredevil in less than a week, I guess? And then moved to The Punisher, because Jon Bernthal appearance on DD S2 tripped me into shipping Matt and Frank. Their bickerings and banterings never fail to crack me up 💀 Alas, there's no cameo of Matt Murdock in The Punisher, but oh well. [Opens AO3 and stays up late at night reading and scrolling on Frank Castle/Matt Murdock fanworks] Not an unfixable problem.

Other than Frank and Matt, Foggy has a very special place in my heart. I'd love to be his friend, honestly, so that we can go have a walk and order take-away food to talk about - whatever. Maybe side by him if he argues with Matt, too, because we all know that guy needs help more than he'd (never) admit.

Do you like participating in fan events? Mmm, I'd love to? I've only ever joined one (1) organized fandom/ship event, and it's back in 2021. It's also because there were A LOT of enablers, too, at the time, when at the same time still so few of content creators while I still had some time to do it myself? Something something I am cursed with always-intrigued-and-choosing-rare-ships something something. So, yeah. Again, I'd love to, but I'm afraid I won't have enough energy and time, because of work, these days. Maintaining interaction and/or communication with people (online or offline) is also not what I'm good at doing exactly.

What about your creating process? Oh, yeah. Writing and/or drawing while listening to music usually goes hand-in-hand like garlics in most delicious cuisines in general to me. And I'm not Italian, by the way. Meals with garlics are just- [cheff kiss]

Usually, to focus on making something, I listen to Instrumental Progressive Metal kinds of music (like this one, for example https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONwLlBMeu0s). My particular influences on keeping the juice flowing is centralized in conceptualization that snatch my entire attention until I fixate on it for maybe a whole week or months or something, honestly. I don't know how to explain that, but it's the kind of "symbolism" (listen, everything I did was mostly self-taught, so I have no artistic background, never have taken art class or anything fancy like that) - like these:

1) https://twitter.com/Sykine_R/status/1497270891432247297 2) This twitter thread of daredevil and how its posters' trilogy is inspired by (17th-century baroque artist) Caravaggio's oil paintings of religious saints https://twitter.com/616FRANKCASTLE/status/1481472002418528257 3) This close-up kind of baring concept https://twitter.com/loika/status/1322512727663763456 4) Or excerpts that I've been piling on my blod tagged with "quotes" (link: https://andaniellight.tumblr.com/search/quotes)

Do you interact a lot with other fans? Um, yeah.... I used to - I used to interact, or talk to other people who ship/shipped the same ship I ship (shipped?) on several fandoms. Now, however, I'm just sticking around with my oldest fandom-friends on discord who I got to know from watching and hyperfixating on this thrilling, gruesome K-drama from 2019 on Netflix titled "Kingdom".

Is there anything else you want to tell us about yourself? I usually share my fanarts on my tumblr (link: andaniellight.tumblr.com), my twitter (link: https://twitter.com/DefyAnSpite) and on Instagram (link: https://www.instagram.com/andaniellight/)! :D

Where can your fanworks be found? Unfortunately, because of how stupid and forgetful I can be sometimes, I don't tag my own art because I Simply Forgot and can't care less. But, so far, for Daredevil-related alone, I've made at least these fanarts:

1) The things I've made for Frank/Matt when I didn't know their more-preferable ship name is "Fratt" : https://andaniellight.tumblr.com/tagged/Mastle

2) First solo-Frank art: https://andaniellight.tumblr.com/post/674762558144659456/repost-after-i-a-mistakes-maker-noticed-a

3) Every Matt Murdock fanarts: https://andaniellight.tumblr.com/tagged/Matthew%20Murdock

Thank you, @andaniellight !

banner by @context-is-for-kingpins !

[ID on a white background, four black triangles that look like spotlights from above. Each illuminates one of the Defenders silhouetted in white: Jessica, Luke, Danny, Matt. A hand on the left is holding a pen writing the words Content Creator Spotlight. There is a little Punisher skull on the pen. End ID]

#the punisher #frank castle #daredevil #fratt #punisher #Matt Murdock #marvel #Content Creator Spotlight

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insomniamamma · 3 years

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Liminal: Ezra and Cee

A/N: Contemporary AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's caretaker after an automobile accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Same AU as "Ferris wheels are for old people." No reader insert character, just Ezra and Cee on the road. Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog ‘s Writer’s Wednesday.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma/injury. Drug references in a song. Some language. I tried to research body powered transhumeral prosthetics to get some idea of how Ezra's prosthetic arm might work, but then I fell into an overthinking morass, any inaccuracies are mine.

"Willin'" is written by Lowell George. The version referenced in the story is recorded by Linda Ronstadt.

lim·i·nal /ˈlimənl/

adjective: liminal

1.relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process. 2.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

--"Willin'"--

"’... been warped by the rain, driven by the snow,’" Cee sings along with the music rattling through the truck's speakers, "I'm drunk and dirty, don't you know. But I'm still willin'..."

The road stretches long and straight in front of them, harsh, rust-colored land dotted with scrub under the arc of an impossibly blue sky. Ezra asked Cee to compile the playlist. You are my co-pilot for this mission, he'd told her, and as such your duties include, but are not limited to, navigator, snack supervisor and DJ. DJ? Really? Make us a playlist, Little Bird, every adventure needs some good road music. And she had really delivered. "’...Out on the road late last night, I'd see my pretty Alice in every headlight, Alice, Dallas Alice...’" Ezra'd expected hours of auto-tuned pop or loud screamy music where he couldn't understand the words, and while there was some of that, Cee had taken her duties as DJ very seriously, creating a huge genre-bending list that all worked together.

He knew a lot of it. When he was still weird Uncle Ezra and not Legal Guardian Ezra, Cee made a habit of pawing through his vinyl collection when she and Damon would visit, picking a record to play and then peppering him with questions about it. Still, some of the tracks she picked surprised him, like this one, Linda Ronstadt's version of "Willin'" a road trip anthem if there ever was one, but something he didn't expect Cee to be familiar with. On their first go through the playlist, he'd asked her, where'd you hear this one, Birdie? You remember that movie, The Abyss? It's in that movie, the director's cut though, not the theatrical cut, the theatrical cut is bullshit--and he'd just listened to her go off about all the things wrong with the theatrical cut, the movie itself he barely remembered, something about divers finding aliens underwater, he'd listened and grinned, Cee could go so quiet sometimes. It was always a relief to hear her sound alive and interested, especially after-- "’And I've been from Tucson to Tucumcari," Cee sings and Ezra joins her, "Tehachapi to Tonopah...’" Cee's voice is sweet. Ezra's voice is not, but that's never stopped him. They've got the windows down. The AC started smelling funny a couple days ago, and, in this part of the world, a breeze to evaporate the sweat is just as good as AC. Cee's hair makes a flyaway halo as they sing-- "’Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made, Driven the backroads so I wouldn't get weighed. And if you give me...’" Ezra and Cee smile at each other, suck in deep breaths for the big chorus, "’...Weed, whites and wine, and you show me a sign...And I'll be willin' to be movin'"

--Petroglyph--

The rust colored forms on pale stone walls peer out at them. Some loom large in the foreground, others recede into the background as if the weathered rock is a portal a window into some other place that lives just below the skin of the world. The back of Ezra's neck prickles. Sometimes the world is thin. Sometimes he feels as if there is a larger world moving and shifting beneath the surface of this one. Sometimes he feels like things are happening out of order, reality stripping and skipping like a loose bicycle chain-- Cee's warm hand creeps into his, "They're a little scary, aren't they?" She says. "Indeed they are," says Ezra, "One has to wonder what they were thinking. What they were trying to say. Are these gods in these pictures? Or just regular men?" "Does it matter?" Asks Cee, and he jerks his head to look at her. She is utterly entranced by the red figures and sigils. "Of course it does," he says, "You don't think so?" "I mean, it matters, I guess, but what matters more is that people made these," she says, "People like us. People with hands. Not that Ancient Aliens bullshit." Ezra laughs. Cee squeezes his hand. "C'mon," she says, "let's see more."

--Rest Stop--

"Hey MOM!," a child's voice snaps Ezra out of his reverie. Cee is in the truck stop, using the restroom and restocking their snack supply. At these stops he fuels up and then gives her some cash and sets her loose inside. And then they stretch their legs and sit outside for a spell. Ezra sits at a picnic bench letting the sun hit his closed eyelids, "MOM! That guy's got a ROBOT ARM! Like WINTER SOLDIER!" Ezra opens his eyes to a little boy, maybe four with a bunch of curly hair and big eyes, pointing at him. "Daniel!" His mother hisses, and pinches at his arm, "That's rude. I'm so sorry. Danny, what did I tell you about staring--" "Ma'am? It's quite alright, Ma'am," says Ezra, and hunkers down so he's eye level with the little boy. "Hi there," he says, "Daniel, is it? I'm Ezra." He offers his right arm, the double hook at the end open, titanium alloy padded with silicone. Daniel solemnly grips the hooks and shakes. "You've got stickers!" Says Daniel, and for a second Ezra is confused, and then he grins, looking down at the bedecked black plastic of his prosthesis. He stands. "My girl decided that I must have a sticker for every state we stop in," says Ezra, he stands and smiles at Daniel's mom, "Like an old steamer trunk. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name--" Cee steps out of the air-conditioned cavern of the truck stop, slits her eyes against the brightness of midday sun glittering up from the concrete, plastic bags full of crap-snacks and energy drinks threaded over her arms. Ezra handed her a couple twenties and told her to go nuts. Re-supply runs have turned into their own sort of game. She always grabs the usual stuff, chips and Snickers bars and Paydays (Ezra has an absolute weakness for Paydays. They don't taste like they used to, he'd griped, but that didn't stop him from eating them), but somewhere along the line, Cee decided to turn this into a battle of the wills. Her unspoken mission is to find something so utterly weird at one of these stops that Ezra won't eat it. So far, she has been unsuccessful. The closest thing was an aloe juice and cucumber drink that smelled amazing, but felt like swallowing cold snot. That one was a draw. She has high hopes for the dill pickle-sriracha gummy worms nestled in the bottom of the bag. The packaging looked like Christmas in hell. More important than the snacks is the plain, flat paper bag she holds. Ezra's near the picnic benches chattering at some lady with a kid. Menace, she thinks, but smiles. Ezra was always the extrovert before, and it's good to him smiling so big and open in the sunshine, making friends with random people at a truck stop. She sees an echo of her and him before, when she and Dad would visit when she was small and he'd tell her some outrageous tale and she'd say Uncle Ezra, you're so weird, and he'd scoop her up and swing her around, planting a prickly kiss on her cheek and saying oh, little bird, you have no idea, and this always made Dad laugh.

"Oh, Ez-ra," Cee calls, and when he turns, he sees her devilish grin, holding a small brown paper bag up beside her face like it's contraband, "Look what I found." "So I get to witness the sacred stickering?" Asks Ezra's new friend. "Indeed you do," says Ezra, "This is Cee. Cee, meet Jody, and that little man playing in the dirt there is Daniel." "Nice to meet you," says Cee, "Stick your arm out, old man." "Don't you want to document this momentous occasion?" "Oh, right," Cee pulls out her phone, "Hey, uh, miss Jody? Can you take some video? I got it all set up." "Cee is documenting our adventures for posterity," says Ezra. He extends his prosthetic, already covered in overlapping ovoids, enough that they are starting to resemble dragon scales, "What do you think?" Cee and Daniel circle round. "How bout here?" asks Daniel, tapping just above the articulated elbow. "That's a good spot," says Cee and peels the sticker from it's backing with a flourish. She smiles up at her phone recording in a stranger's hand, "We have now infiltrated the state of Nevada," she grins, "Evil-doers beware." "Yeah!" Says the little boy, pudgy hands planted on his hips for the benefit of the camera, "Or Winter Soldier will KICK YOUR ASS!" "Daniel!"

--Stars--

Cee wakes in the dead of night, disoriented, a darkness so thick that for a moment she's not sure where she is, and then she hears Ezra's rhythmic snoring off to her side, reaches out and brushes fabric of the tent and lays back, puzzled, muscles pleasantly sore from a day spent scrabbling up and down eroded granite boulders that looked like they belonged on Mars or Tatooine, walking trails and marveling at the strange ecology of the high-desert, so unlike back home. Bad dream? She wonders, probably. She feels her eyes getting heavy, feels herself lulled by Ezra's sleep sounds, snores punctuated by mumbles. Sometimes full sentences, his side of whatever dream-conversation he's having. Probably has no idea he does it-- Cee sits bolt upright, hands clutched in fists against her chest, a high-pitched wail cuts the cold night, a sound like a woman screaming, and another wail threads through the first, so loud it could be right outside the tent, and then a sound like gruesome laughter. The back of her neck prickles and her heart pounds in her throat. She tells herself that it's just some wild animal making noise, some desert bird maybe, but wasn't the California desert the last known home of the Manson family? Maybe not this desert, but still-- "Ezra," she hisses, and he mumbles something incoherent, "Ezra, wake up!" She reaches and pokes him hard, "Ezra!" "Whazzit birdie?" "Listen!" The screams rise and fall again like something from a horror movie. "s'just coyotes," says Ezra, "probly next county over. They don't hurt people, they're just loud." "You sure?" "Go back to sleep, Cee."

"Ezra," He's dreaming, some place with Joshua trees the size of skyscrapers, spiked limbs under a red sky. Cee's with him somewhere in the bloodlight but he can't see her, just hears her calling-- "Ezra!" He blinks awake, the red sky receding. Cee is shaking him. "Yuh. M'awake birdie," "I gotta pee," she says. "You know where the outhouses are, just right down the trail," "I'm not going by myself! Not with those things out there!" Ezra pushes himself up and shakes his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He can just make out Cee's form against the faint light of the sky leaking through the tent. "Alright, just gimme a second," he says. "I'll get the light," "We don't need it," he says. "Ez-" "We got night eyes now," he says, "No light pollution out here. You'll see."

Ezra stands transfixed in the chill dark, head cocked upward. The more he looks, the more he can see. More stars than he's ever seen in his life spread across the vast inverted bowl of the sky, no summer haze out here, no light-wash from streetlights. He is dizzy with it, the vast sweep of the sky, and as he stares and his eyes adjust further, he can see the arm of the Milky Way angled across the black, can actually see the dark band of dust threaded through the silver-blue light. He doesn't hear the outhouse door shutting, doesn't notice Cee beside him until she folds his hand into hers. "Look up, Little Bird," he breathes and it feels like a prayer, his heart suddenly full, squeezing in his chest, Cee small and warm next to him. "Oh, wow," she says, barely a whisper, "That's the Milky Way isn't it?" Tears blur the stars and fall hot against his cheeks. "It is." He looks at her, her face upturned, cheeks and hair frosted in star shine, limning her eyes, her smile. They've lost so much, him and Cee, but they've gained each other, and that's not nothing is it? "We're so small," says Cee, "Us. People. This whole planet. All of us. We're just a little dot." Ezra smiles in the dark, even as tears dry in his lashes. He squeezes her fingers in his. "C'mon, let's get back in the tent before we freeze."

--Hoodoo--

Cee sleeps in the passenger's seat. She'd helped break camp and pack everything up even though it was early for her. They had spent an extra night in Joshua Tree and now had to make up the difference. It's time to go home. There are things he wants to do before Cee goes back to school, things they need to take care of. So he woke them early, promising Cee that she could sleep in the car as long as she needed. She'd helped him get ready, half-peeling a couple candy bars and putting them were he could easily reach. "You want the playlist?" She asked, "I can get it going." "Not right now. I want some quiet." “'Kay," and Cee was asleep before they were to the next mile marker.

Hoodoos rise on either side of the highway, striated red cliffs against the slowly lightening sky, cut into improbable formations by long gone rivers, thin spires topped with boulders, first glints of sun hitting the higher cliffs while everything else still exists in that liminal space between day and night. Ezra glances over at Cee, hair in a messy halo, face slack in sleep, cheeks sun-reddened and newly freckled, closed eyes moving, dreaming. Ezra thinks of those first days, wracked with pain and trying to navigate the new, dark-shrowded territory of her and him, each of them crippled by loss, each willing to lash out at the other. Ezra thinks of how far they've come since then, uncurling like relaxing fists and learning to be with each other. They drive into the dawn and the first bit of light touches her hair, turning it to fire. She shifts in her sleep, turning away from that first hint of sun. He doesn't know if she's awake or not. "I love you, Cee." "Love you to, Ez," she murmurs and settles back into sleep. Ezra looks out over hoodoo country spread red tinged and stark against the rising light, the miles of road ahead. We're gonna be ok, he thinks and means it.

#writer wednesday #ezra prospect #cee prospect #contemporary AU #ezra and cee

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meichenxi · 3 years

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Hi!! I'm a college student about to graduate and my dream is to teach English in China and I was wondering if you could somehow help me and give me some advice. I have been studying Chinese during my years at university (and I love your blog!), along with my physics degree. I don't know if any of this is relevant but my level of Mandarin is not very high (HSK3), I study in the UK and I'm planning to get a TEFL 120 hour certification in June. Is this a solid plan? Love your blog, Isa

Hiii! Sorry it took me so long to get to this, I have my final exams at the moment and am on semi-hiatus. First, what an amazing dream!! You'll have a wonderful time :D

SO in general having a degree not in English language and a TEFL certificate is most definitely enough to secure you a job, but at the moment it is a rather 'special period', as every job advert says, and so finding a job is a little trickier because of visa problems.

Basically, there are no work or study visas available at the moment for people from the UK. The only people who can get into China are those who the Chinese Embassy deems 'foreign experts' and therefore 'crucial to China's progress', and your company or school will have to provide something called a PU letter. This grants you the ability to actually apply for the work visa, though itself doesn't grant it. At the moment there aren't that many companies available who can offer that.

Because of this, I'd recommend going through a recruitment company. I do not necessarily mean a graduate scheme (the ones advertised as such are not very well paid and you don't have much control over where you go), but a recruitment company. You can find these on any general site if you google 'ESL jobs China'.

In terms of actual jobs - generally speaking there are three categories, private language schools, state schools, and international schools. International schools are by far the best in terms of packages, but they rarely take graduates without 3 years of teaching experience. The good news is that if you do find somebody who is looking for recent grads (if you go to a particularly prestigious university like Oxbridge, for instance), you might be able to teach Physics or Science rather than English language. International schools will also be the easiest to deal with in terms of communication and visa applications, but the competition is quite stiff, and most people who apply will be teachers in their home countries already.

State schools are another good option if you want 'normal' teaching hours, good holidays, and older children. The position I have next year is in a good state school that has two programs, the Canadian curriculum and the GaoKao (the Chinese university entrance exam). The main disadvantage is that you may be the only foreigner in the school, and communication might be difficult. I don't just mean with Chinese but in general: you will be not told things, you will be excluded, you will turn up to your class and find someone else teaching it and be told just to go back to your office. If you can be flexible and have an open mind, state schools are great, but they may be quite exhausting especially if this is your first time in China. You will also have to teach to exams, and the curriculum might be tight. For me personally though, I would much rather teach in a state school than the next option -

Which is private language schools. These are very good - sometimes. This is the main problem: the quality of the schools, the teaching, and the ethos all vary from school to school. You may be teaching very young children, and you may be teaching exclusively in the evening. The schools may be very supportive of creativity in the classroom, or you may be literally forced to teach the flashcards they give you. The plus about these schools is that they often have competitive relocation packages, are not too bothered about how experienced (or not) you are, and that there will be a community of other English speaking colleagues (natives and not) to help you integrate.

The reason I add this is that it's so, so important. It's very laudable and easy to wish for immersion and want to make Chinese friends - and you should!! - but living in another country without easy access to internet you are used to can be exhausting at times and even the staunchest believer in immersion is going to be stressed and tired and teary far from home. Having colleagues who want to improve their English can also be a good basis for a (somewhat awkward at first) friendship.

Some general tips: brush up on your English grammar. Seriously. Because the amount of teachers who have no idea and bluff their way through it is shocking and disrespects those who try very hard to make it a proper profession. Also having students ask you when you use the present perfect continuous and the present perfect simple and not knowing the answer is a very special kind of pain!! I'd recommend bringing a reputable grammar book with you, and using it when making your lesson plans.

Re Chinese: if you already have a little, your Chinese will improve so much when you're there!! Don't stress about it because China is a wonderful environment for learning - it's literally perfect, few people speak English and EVERYBODY wants to speak to you as many people are direct and very curious - but at the same time, the more you can learn, the easier it will be. Don't neglect your characters!! Learning useful menu characters and signs will be hugely helpful too. You won't need Chinese in your job really, but you definitely will in your daily life, so well done for learning and keep at it!!

The other thing I would say is: sort out your music and your social media and your banking before going to China. This includes a good VPN. You can't download apps on the google App Store, and to make the transition to the Chinese internet easier, I'd recommend getting a Weibo account, any music app, Baidu translate and maps and so on, and accustoming yourself to that before going.

Re where you are going and the package: you should have your flight paid, help with your visa, and transparency about quarantine procedures. You should also have accommodation or an accommodation allowance of between 2000-5000 (2000 is more than fine). Public or international schools may pay for your food during school-time as well. Re cities: prioritise what is important to you. If you want to save, bear in mind that China is extraordinarily cheap and that even in places like Shanghai, you can still save a lot if you live somewhat sensibly. To give you some context: I lived in Tianjin, a second-tier city, and I got 'pocket money' of 2000 every month (with accommodation and food paid), and I managed to save enough to do martial arts for a month at an academy after 5 months. And I was living well - going out about twice a week, taking taxis, eating out almost every evening (cheap food). So don't prioritise one position over another solely because of money, and also bear in mind kindergarten teachers may only be getting about 2000-3000 a month - so regardless of whether you earn 10,000 or 15,000, it's a) SIGNIFICANTLY enough to live very well and save very well too, and b) considerably more than many of your coworkers will be earning.

Also, different cities have different costs of living: 10,000 somewhere like Hangzhou will go considerably further than 16,000 in Shanghai. Another thing to bear in mind is the air quality, and the environment, and the access to green spaces. DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THIS. If this is important to you, go somewhere smaller or in the south with access to nature - I nearly went crazy living in such a big city with such poor air quality. The positions I had to choose between were one in Shanghai, better paid and at a better school, and a position in Zhuhai in a campus in the mountains, in a third-tier city by the sea. I know now how important green is to me, how much I prefer a more relaxed pace of life, and so I chose the latter.

Lastly, don't be intimidating and don't be afraid to ask questions about your job. Make sure that everything they say is in the contract, in both the English version and the Chinese version. This is important because only the Chinese version is legal, so if you have a friend, get them to check that the same stuff is in each bit of the contract. Communication might be difficult, but don't be afraid to be direct and press for answers, don't just accept what you're told. You might be messed around with a bit, so it's important to 'shop around' for positions - don't feel bad if you do so, and don't be afraid to turn things down that don't suit. Finally, don't feel terrified if you can't find information about a school online - a lot of stuff isn't on Google, and will also be better accessed via WeChat or mini programs. Not finding information about your school or city does not mean it doesn't exist!!

So be prepared for a wild ride - and enjoy! If you have any more questions about any of this, please feel free to ask at any time!

meichenxi out :P

#advice #esl #teaching esl #askies #esl in china

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biteghost · 3 years

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How do you come up with so many cool characters?? All of your OCs seem so vibrant and fleshed out. Do you have a specific process for developing them, or do they just kinda come to you mostly formed? I find I struggle with building a compelling OCs for D&D games & would love to hear your thoughts on character development.

(This answer got long, sorry.) This is a super nice sentiment, I’m happy you think my characters are all cool and unique!!

As far as process goes, uh, it depends on the character? I’ve spent a long time (years) rewiring my brain when it comes to what I think about when creating OCs. They don’t usually come to me fully formed - I get an idea in my head about a concept, and then over like a week or even months of fiddling I end up with a character for that concept.

A lot of the time my characters are simply people I wanted to see more of in media as a kid! Mostly, female characters I actually relate to or are as nuanced and messy as their male cast members, haha... (It was a trip when I realized in high school that I didn’t hate female characters - it was actually that none of them were written as well as the cool boys in the anime series I liked, haha! Be the change you want to see in the world, basically.)

Inspiration for characters (and stories for them to be part of) come from a lot of places. An easy piece of advice is to make an effort to intake media you like! Read new comics, watch new movies and television shows, read books, play video games, listen to music and obsessively memorize the lyrics - hell, obsessively learn everything there is to know about black holes or public domain characters (that’s what I did, lol...)!

(Note: ’New’ meaning new to YOU - you don’t need to only be partaking of media that’s created in 2021 - you can find a lot to love in media that was created before your time, or for generations before you!)

I must reiterate: intake new media that you ENJOY! You don’t have to like all the same things as everyone else, you don’t have to be invested in the same shows and podcasts as your friends. Varied interests and taste is part of what makes us all unique! Increasing your pool of inspiration will help you come up with interesting ideas, and help you find YOUR voice. Your particular interests and the niche things that speak to you will help you figure out what kind of characters and what kind of stories you like to create! But the process doesn’t end at just intaking media... When you find the stuff that brings you joy, analyze what exactly it is about that thing that speaks to you... Put it into words. Explain it to a friend. Make it tangible, analyze the feelings and why the series made you feel that way... and then take it and shove it into your own stories, lol!

Engage critically and thoughtfully with work you like, with characters you like, and it will help you have the language and thought process to recreate it in your own work!

My creative process is like an exquisite corpse of all the characters and series I’ve liked over my lifetime. I mesh them all together in a grim blender and what comes out is a shake in the vague shape as an OC, lol

BUT... it seems like you’re asking more specifically about making characters for tabletop roleplaying games like D&D? And THAT is a different process for me than making OCs for my comics or original story ideas!

I don’t usually join a tabletop game with a fully fleshed out character, actually?? I don’t spend a long time on their backstory, and I usually figure it out like halfway through the story, or through collaboration with my game master!

My TTRPG characters are usually whatever I think would be most interesting in the given game setting or set-up and... usually they exist in opposition to whatever the core concept of the game is. So, the examples I have from games I’ve played are:

In Cardians: West (World of Darkness: Hunter the Vigil): we played in a modern-day urban fantasy setting, where players were recruited into a supernatural Hunter group that was also a criminal organization that Did Crimes and Broke The Law in the name of keeping peace and protecting humanity from the supernatural creatures that go bump in the night. I played Andrew, a Lawful Good Police Detective, because I thought playing a character who would need to grow past his original ideals of ‘Right and Wrong’ in the name of the greater good would be interesting! (And it was!)

In SINNING ADVENTURE (WoD: Geist: The Sin-Eaters) we payed in a modern-day urban fantasy setting with the premise that the players all Died and were brought back to life by forming a pact with a powerful spirit (and getting cool ghost powers in the process!) I played Cassius, a character who could not cope with his death, and thus refused to use his new powers because they were evidence that he was no longer strictly human. It caused conflict in the group and world, but I thought it would be interesting! (And it was! Cassius was a Bitch.)

In Rex Machina (Dungeons and Dragons 5E), I wanted to play an Aarakocra, but was having a hard time deciding on a class or backstory... until I found out that in the ‘canon’ of D&D Aarakocra only live to be like, mid 20s???? Their lifespans are insanely short compared to other playable races!! And I thought that was stupid, so I decided to make MY Aarakocra, Izzy, a warlock that’s looking for ways to extend his own stupidly short life. His pact essentially granted that to him, giving him extra time to find a way to achieve True Immortality. His conflict challenges what’s ‘true’ living in this world, and his extended life is in direct conflict with a lot of forces in the world we play in, and while it is very stressful I think it’s really interesting to play!

In Lamplighting (Monster of the Week), my character Aicen is an assassin who made a deal with a demon and gained supernatural perks out of it... except I decided that she doesn’t WANT to be in this deal. She is actively trying to undo it because it wasn’t her deal - she inherited it from a CEO that she killed during an unrelated job. (Aicen is probably my character I’ve put the most backstory into, and that’s just because at character creation in MOTW you are given a lot of questions about who your character is and why they’re where they are!)

In Hand of Adam (WoD: HtV), the concept was that all players were going to join a post-apocalyptic supernatural-hating cult. I played Shouter, who was a self-preserving pacifist coward who also turned out to be a fae (which the cult would have killed him over). It was stressful but very fun. I love Shouter. He ran away from fights and didn’t actually kill anyone until the last episode where they fought God (whom he killed, lol).

NOW. THESE ARE ALL JUST EXAMPLES OF HOW *I* LIKE TO PLAY CHARACTERS!! For me personally, I enjoy playing a character who has built-in conflict either with the world, the story, or the other players. I’m only able to play characters like this because my friend group are all really cool and we all know that conflict is not bad - it’s fiction and we’re just roleplaying! If I didn’t trust my GMs and fellow players as much as I do, I probably wouldn’t have felt comfortable enough playing some of these concepts.

I don’t think you need to know every little thing about a tabletop character, and in fact, not knowing some things and leaving it up to the GM and story to flesh out is an easy way to help you get more invested in both your character AND the story your GM is telling! Tabletops are a collaborative storytelling experience, so if you’ve already plotted out your character’s whole story, there won’t be much participation from other players or your GM. Figure out what your character wants, and let your roleplaying and GM slowly put all the other pieces in place over the course of your campaign!

But the TL:DR about how I make tabletop OCs is that I just... try to give them a goal, an ideal, or a personality that is in direct conflict with some aspect of the game we’re playing. I don’t want the character to be undermining the whole game, because that’s really crappy to do to your GM, but I have to have something for my character to grow through or change. I like giving them built-in character arc starters, lol. I haven’t played a game where my character has gotten along with every other player character and NPC over the entire campaign since my very FIRST game, lol!

Also, if you’re having trouble, why not ask your GM what they think? Again, tabletops are collaborative! Don’t be afraid to talk ideas out with your GM for your character.

A final note about playing in specifically oneshot games (i.e. games that are not long campaigns but are meant to be played in one or two sittings). Personally, I always just retrofit an OC I already have to play in oneshots! When I make a new character for a long campaign, it usually takes me two or three sessions to find their voice and figure out how to roleplay them. If the game you’re playing is only one session, I find it easier to jump right in and get the most out of your character and the game when you’re playing a character you already know pretty well! I’ve played characters from my webcomic quite a few times, and it’s always a lot more fun for me than figuring out a new character on the fly!

SO UH, IN CONCLUSION... sorry if this is mad unhelpfu!! My personal processes are unique to me! but that's the point - no one person will have the exact answer that works for you! You have to keep trying until you figure it out for yourself! Good luck! Keep creating! <3

#long post #asktime #not art #art talk #writing talk #tabletop talk #gif #iwishihadhorns

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natsspammityspamspamham · 4 years

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Why You Should Watch SKET Dance

If I were to tell you what I took away from SKET Dance from old lessons to new, I would say that it said something along the lines of this:

“You are not the mistakes you made in the past. You are not defined the person you were before. If anything, the past is something that you cannot change, but you can surpass those regrets and try to change for the better. Trauma is something that cannot be left behind, but it can get better, especially when you are surrounded by the right people and support. Helping people doesn’t always change the world, but it can change the world of that person and maybe even yours.”

That cheesy quote took a while to write (so did this whole post), but that’s because I wanted to get it right. I wasn’t even sure where to start with this post of sorts.

I will warn ahead of time that if you aren’t familiar with anime, SKET Dance might be an overreach. It does have some references that are niche, and it has a lot of “manzai” (tsukkomi/boke) jokes with tons of mentions. There is fanservice, but no more than you’d see in some of the other series that were released under Shonen Jump. Sometimes the humour and everything can be a little cringy, but I think that’s a given with the fact that you are watching anime.

(This is spoiler-free, gluten-free, no trans fat, and took me too much time.)

Story

I get that it’s like Gintama, but I wouldn’t say it’s a “poor man’s Gintama”. Instead, take it for what it is. It’s like comparing a younger sibling to the older sibling. You’re not letting SketDan shine on its own, and it deserves to.

SketDan has a really simplistic story. It’s about a school club that wants to help people. There is no big war, massive battles, or over-the-top villain that needs to be crushed. I can’t say that it’s episodic, but it definitely leans towards the more “slice-of-life” approach. It has its own arcs that come one after another in good bits and pieces. This series balances itself so well with its drama and comedy. The backstories were done so well, and they didn’t even get to all of them! In fact, one of the best ones was left just in the manga.

The story is made by the characters. It doesn’t rely on the environment or the world around them. Instead, the world to them are the people they are surrounded by. No aliens, samurai, ninjas, or great big event, it’s just them, their high school, and their unconventional club.

Characters

This has got to go down as one of the best ensemble trios in anime. All of them do get their time to develop, and they balance each other out so well. You’d think these characters were friends for their entire lives. I can’t even say who’s the best because I think they’re all the best!

Bossun is a sensitive guy who’s insecure about being the main character of this series (yes, he does mention that). He doesn’t have any spectacular “Shonen Jump” skills. He has no “bankai”, “rasengan”, or “Kamehameha”. He has a hat and goggles. His power is concentration. These are completely valid reasons to be worried about your character status because, on the surface, Bossun sounds downright pathetic (and he knows it). But through the story, you get to see why he’s actually one of the best main characters out there (even if the cast doesn’t want to acknowledge it).

Himeko is one of the coolest characters in this series. I haven’t seen a weapon of that kind… ever. She isn’t afraid to slap the stuff out of anyone and will do anything for a friend. I don’t want to get into her character too much due to spoilers, but it’s revealed early on that she is quite legendary. She’s quite important for the humour of this story. It’s often brought up that she’s the “tsukkomi” (the one who responds to the “boke” stupid).

Last but not least of the great trio, we have Switch. This is probably the character I was most blindsided by. Even though I knew his backstory beforehand (nobody stops me from clicking from “show spoiler” button, it’s quite a problem). He’s the local otaku and database. And he’s probably the most observant. Even though he never “talks”, he’s one of the funniest characters in the series even when he isn’t in the limelight. I legally cannot dig into more about his character due to spoilers. You really need to see it for yourself.

The supporting cast is nothing to put aside either. A lot of them become more and more important as time passes, and the roles they play soon play right into the main plot of the story. We’ve got someone who speaks in “yabasu”, a ghostly occult member, a samurai, a captain, a tsundere, a visual kei star who doesn’t speak in any actual language, a 1.8m tall woman who can literally murder you with a slap, a voice actress idol movie star, and a teacher who makes drugs and bombs. That doesn’t even touch on the student counsel. Anyways, discovering these characters is part of the charm.

Art

There are too many good faces in this anime. While the art isn’t always consistent, it’s never “bad”.

The faces in this anime are on-par with other comedy anime. This is just the tip of the iceberg.

Music

*downloads all the music*

I’m going to pretend like I haven’t listened to some of these on repeat since I finished the anime. Not all anime will literally have a designated band that are made after the characters. That was a really nice touch. There are a ton of special insert songs that go with certain arcs too.

SKET Dance is like any other anime in a way. It benefits from having a good OST. A good OST will add to the story. It will add to the anime, and it will convey all the right feelings. It helps with the comedy, the drama, and the random “what am I watching” moments.

Seiyuu

I wanted to save this category for last. This anime actually changed the way that I look at all the main seiyuu of this anime. It’s not that often that the Vomics (voice acted comics) have the same cast as the anime. They fit their characters so well, and I really can’t express that enough. I associate their voices with their character. It’s like how you can look at a picture of your favourite character and remember exactly what they sound like (or maybe that’s just me).

I haven’t actually heard a lot of lead roles by Hiroyuki Yoshino because he has such a uniquely odd voice. I think the last anime I watched where he actually played the protagonist was Kekkaishi which was quite a while ago. He did well for that role too. Another anime where he played one of the main characters was in Hai to Gensou no Grimgar which didn’t have a very enjoyable cast compared to other anime including SKET Dance (but still worth checking out if you like tamer isekai). I’ve also seen him play a suave character, but I actually skipped most of his lines going, “Not this again.” Present Mic is a character that he seems to be popular for, but those specific niche characters didn’t give him nearly the range that Bossun did. From the moments we were laughing with him and at him to the serious moments that really made me go quiet, it felt like he was truly the character.

Ryouko Shiraishi is such an underrated seiyuu. She admits that she doesn’t have a very cutesy voice, and due to that, the number of female characters she can play goes down, but I wouldn’t dismiss how great she is. For one, she’s really good at the Kansai dialect. Second, she plays a lot of younger male characters. She makes Himeko really cute but also really tough and spunky. She carries a lot of the humour as the reactor “tsukkomi”. And if you’ve watched Demon Slayer, she plays one of the demons and is so good at it. I really like her unique voice because it deviates from the norm just like Himeko’s character.

Gintoki—I mean Tomokazu Sugita is great as Switch, and even though sometimes we forget that he’s a legitimate voice actor who can actually voice act and not just scream on command. Of course, he’s funny. That goes without saying. Almost all of his well-known characters are known for being funny. Even the guy in real life is really funny. I’m not sure how much explanation would be needed for him.

Summary

Overall, I had such a good time with this anime. It made me laugh, feel the feels, and really smile (I mean the type that people really ask you what the heck you’re watching because you’re smiling like you just watched someone you hate fall down the stairs). It reminded me of what I liked from comedy anime, but it also reminded me what I like about anime that take it to basics with just its characters. Actions and battles are good once in a while, but the characters are the heart, soul, and being of this anime. If you’re looking for a good laugh or smile with a ton of gags and jokes with a great ensemble cast, look no further! SKET Dance is here!

I’m going to recommend this anime to anyone who has read this, @azroazizah, @brettyblease, @tsukiomoon, and anyone else who likes those Shonen Jump shenanigans.

P.S. It is totally worth picking up the manga after watching the anime.

#sket dance #anime recommendation

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arse-crack-thistle · 3 years

Text

gifts

rwrb and the five love languages | part two

in which june struggles to have a nice valentine’s date with nora

June never expected to care this much about a stupid holiday like Valentine’s Day, but here she is, practically renovating the apartment to give her girlfriend a perfect night. She strings LED lights around the entire living room ceiling and uses Command hooks to drape the sheer, white Ikea curtains she bought on sale months ago in preparation for this. The lights glow pink through the curtains, making the usually neutral-toned living room appear like Aphrodite’s palace. June’s moved the coffee table into her room and replaced it with a fluffy blanket and a picnic set-up to rival TikTok lesbians. All she needs now is Nora, if only she weren’t stuck at school.

The texts say, Will be late! Data mining for the gods! [Monet X Change gif] I want to be home with you though. Will bring noodles! And chocolate! Scratch that, I ate the chocolate. Sorry.

June knows she shouldn’t be annoyed because Nora has no idea what she’s coming home to. She also knows who she got into a relationship with—a brilliant mind that’s constantly moving parsecs a minute and has a hard time communicating her feelings. June has to remind herself that Nora loves her even if she doesn’t always show it.

That’s what tonight is for. It’ll give them time to slow down and just be together. Break the routine. Talk or not talk. She doesn’t expect it to be mushy or obnoxious—June isn’t a super, flowery romantic herself—but she does want another sentimental moment to hold onto forever.

Like the night of the 2020 election over a year ago. After Alex and Henry slipped away and everyone else was celebrating in their own groups, Nora pulled June into a storage closet at the venue and kissed her point blank, leaving no questions in her mind that their dabbles the months before meant something more than spectacular.

Or like six months ago when Nora asked her if she wanted to move in with her. She didn’t do anything particularly special, but she slammed her laptop shut while June was throwing on one of her sweatshirts and asked her to stay—to take the second bedroom because Nora needs space sometimes—but to stay with her because she was her favorite person. June answered with a happy “yes,” and Nora got up and kissed her. They didn’t talk much more about it; June just packed up her room at the White House and let the world think they were very best friends.

June pours a glass of wine and waits on the couch, flipping through social media. A few hours ago, her brother posted a picture from the Valentine’s gala he and Henry threw for the London queer youth center. Alex, Henry, Bea, Catherine, and even Philip and Martha hold champagne flutes with cheeky smiles on their faces. The POTUS account has a sweet yet posed picture of her mother and Leo. She likes everything she sees, from the various celebrities she follows to the photos she’s tagged in by fans. The time on her phone reminds her Nora’s now over an hour late.

She texts her, Home soon?

Ten minutes later her phone dings. Need more time. Almost done!

You are aware it’s Valentine’s, yes? And that we had plans?

Yes!!!! But flexible plans, right? Not like we can’t eat noodles and make out later. Will leave soon though. Promise.

I got food covered. Just get home please.

June sighs. She thought she made it clear this morning that they deserved a night with no distractions. God, they need to talk; she’s afraid to, but nothing will get better if she doesn’t say anything and if they don’t try.

The charcuterie board spread she copied off of Pinterest has been sitting out for a while so she moves it from the floor to the fridge. “Soon” for Nora could mean an hour. Empty coffee mugs line the sink. An open pack of weed gummies sits on the counter, hardening. Binders of paperwork and schoolwork collect on the kitchen table. There’s so much Nora in here. June redecorated the living room and kitchen when she moved in, but Nora’s managed to touch everything.

She smiles. If this were Alex, she’d be pissed at the mess, but it’s Nora. The beautiful, erratic mess that is Nora. The girl who can have four different shows on at once and can still get shit done. The girl who always burns pancakes when she tries to cook breakfast for June. The girl who never fails to kiss her first.

June won’t lose her. So she sits down on the floor, runs her fingers over the fleece, and waits. And drinks more wine.

Sometime later, when a key turns in the lock, she downs the last sip in her glass and sets it down. Some old love songs play from her phone, the ones she and Nora love to make fun of. She hears her girlfriend curse when her key gets stuck, and then she bursts through the door and catches herself before she could slip on the hardwood.

“I know you said you got food covered, but I got noodles any—Whoa! You did all of this?” Nora walks into the living room with takeout bags in her hands and stares, mesmerized, at the ceiling. Her contacts must’ve been bothering her because she has on her back-up glasses.

“Hi. Happy Valentine’s Day,” June says and reaches for Nora’s hand to pull her down.

“I’m sorry, June. I had no idea. I thought we both hated this holiday, so tonight wasn’t that big of a deal. But this—this is beautiful,” Nora says, having a hard time meeting June’s eyes.

“Thanks.” June rubs Nora’s hand with her thumb. “And this isn’t really about the holiday. I just wanted to give something nice to you—to us—just us. With no distractions.”

The strings from “At Last” by Etta James play from the phone. The curtains billow from the air blowing out the vent. As much as she hates to ruin the moment, June has to start the conversation.

But Nora takes a deep breath and talks first. “I know I’m a bit all over the place but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I just have a lot going on.”

“I know, but sometimes it feels like you don’t care about us as much as I do. It feels like an afterthought to you,” June says.

“That’s not true, June! Come on! You know me.” She grabs June’s other hand and squeezes.

She squeezes back. “You don’t act with feelings in mind, but I know you have them. And I know it’s hard for you, but I need you to share them with me more. I need a reminder that you care every once in a while.”

Nora’s quiet. She uses her arm to wipe her eyes, knocking her glasses off. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

June’s chest collapses. She wraps Nora up in her arms. “I’m sorry, Nor. I don’t mean you’re not enough for me. I love you so much. I—”

“No, I understand. I just—I need help with that. I need you to tell me when you need more—maybe not after the fact like now but—”

June laughs and pulls away. “You’re right. I have a stewing problem. I just assume you’ll eventually get it.”

“Yeah, don’t assume that.” Nora laughs too—the big kind that shows all of her teeth. “Reign me in when I’ve been off for too long. And know it’s not on purpose. I’m seriously spiraling in my own head the majority of the time.”

“Ha! And a hot head it is too.”

They both pause and look into each other’s eyes. And bust out into laughing fits. June makes a fart sound with her mouth, and Nora tackles her. They rumble around on the blanket for about forty seconds before June’s wine glass tips over and surprisingly bounces instead of shattering.

The girls take that as an opportunity to stop and pour some more glasses of wine. Nora preps the takeout while June brings the charcuterie board back to the indoor picnic. Nora changes the music to some weird techno shit, but June snatches the phone. They compromise with One Direction, which makes no sense since 1. June only knows their last album and 2. Nora definitely remembers the story of June turning down the advances of one Niall Horan when she did the daytime talk show circuit after her book deal was announced.

Either way, they stuff their faces and end up cuddled on the floor.

Nora interrupts the moment. “Before we get to sexy time—"

“Jesus Christ.”

“I just wanted to give you something. I would’ve saved it for your birthday, but I can get you something else.” She pops up from the floor and jogs to her bedroom. When she reemerges, she’s carrying a bunched-up blanket. “I didn’t have time to properly wrap it because—you know, you weren’t going to get it yet—although, it probably wouldn’t’ve been wrapped later either—but anyways, happy Valentine’s Day.”

She crouches down and hands over the present. She smiles and bops up and down in anticipation. June unwraps the blanket and sees a book.

It’s one of those photobooks you can get at Walgreens, and on the cover, it reads, “Catalina June Claremont-Diaz and Nora Elizabeth Holleran are NOT good friends…” June flips it over. “They’re fucking GIRLFRIENDS!” Inside is page after page of pictures as early as the day they first met and as recent as New Year’s Eve a month ago. A lot of candid pics they take of each other—Nora’s favorites. A lot of sleepy, cuddle pics—June’s favorites. It’s so perfect.

“Nora—this is—wow.” She feels the tears coming. No one has given her anything like this before.

“I’ll be better—”

“So will I.”

“No matter where my head’s at, I’m always thinking of you—just 50 million other things as well,” Nora says and cups her chin.

June leans in. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Nora kisses her, and everything wound up in June relaxes. Her body is so warm. “Best Song Ever” starts playing.

Cue sexy time.

check out the rest of my rwrb and the five love languages series: part one, part three, part four, and part five. (links to come as they’re released)

so this could be for quality time or gifts, but i decided to go with gifts since i had no other ideas for it! it’s definitely not my love language (quality time for the win!) but i had to write something lol. so i made it sapphic bc everything gay is better! <3

rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests

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eunoiaflow3r · 4 years

Text

Not Who I Am Anymore - Oscar Diaz

A/N: we’re not going to talk about the ending lol. uhm will definitely have a few mistakes.

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, mentions of death (not to reader, or oscar). fem!reader.

Summary: Y/N’s past is something that dictates a couple of her decisions. This includes smoking and drinking. Everyone think’s she’s weird for it. She has her reasons.

Word Count: 5.4k

You thought you had moved on. You thought that with the help, and the mentoring, the flashbacks, the thoughts, and the urges would go away. But they didn’t. Here you were at a Santos party, smoke in the air, alcohol littered across the long tables and the music wafting through the air ten times louder than it probably should have been. On the sidewalk, you took this time to really look at your surroundings and really scope out the area.

Spooky was on the porch, a glass bottle of beer sitting swiftly in his hands. Instead of his usual beader, a black shirt was fitted loosely, paired with black shorts and sneakers..and, of course, the ultimate gold chain that sat proudly around his neck. He was talking to Sad Eyes - you think his name was, when he noticed you, kind of to yourself, watching him. He smirked at you and walked over to where you were.

“Aye wassup? Can’t believe you actually came.” He gives you a kind of half-hug, before stepping away and really taking you in. You weren’t dressed like the rest of the girls who wore crop tops, and short shirts and skirts with heels. No, you at a Santos party, chose to wear jeans and a jacket. It looked a lot like something That girl Monse would wear, but he wasn’t gonna tell you that.

“Came to watch the underage kids here, and make sure they stay out of trouble.”

That was only half the truth. Of course, you came for the kids, especially Ruby and Jamal - you knew they could get into some serious trouble if they were along for long enough...but when Spooky first told you about the party, you knew you’d be there. No, you tried to convince yourself not to go. Alcohol and weed wasn’t a good idea, and you knew that. Spooky on the other hand, sure could be convincing, and maybe you were unknowingly making a deal with the devil by accepting his invitation, but at the time you didn’t care. Now you do.

“That really all you came for? I wasn’t part of that decision?”

The bottle in his hands was looking absolutely irresistible. The smoke in the air that you inhaled made your heart hurt because you knew if you did anything tonight, you’d be in trouble. That’s why you snuck your hand into your pocket and clutched your 2-year pin in your hands. Never again would you go back to the place you were in two years ago. Never again you promised yourself.

Oscar seemed to notice your eyes on his bottle though and unfortunately asked if you wanted some. You painfully refused and asked him if he could just get you a bottle of water instead.

“Of course. Be right back.”

You remember when you first met “Spooky.” It was unconventional at the least. You were visiting Mario and his family during the summer. His mother absolutely adored you, and let you stay for however long you needed. You went back home, but right before school started, you decided to move to Freeridge more permanently. She let you stay until you could find your own place. Ruby, like the little devil he is, stole your clothes while you were in the shower.

You chased him around in a towel for them, until eventually you were locked outside, and pounding on the door pleading for him to let you in. His friends did nothing to help you, and you wouldn’t forgive them for weeks after that. Anyway, this just so happened to be the time where there was that lockdown. Minutes before it happened, Spooky approached the house, and he at the very least was intrigued. It’s not every day you see a beautiful kinda naked girl knocking on a door. When he approached you, you had absolutely no idea what to do.

A gang leader, you knew by the infamous name, “Spooky,” was smirking at you as you were half-naked, and he didn’t even know your name.

“I - I uhm.” You paused, trying to gain some kind of composure. “ ‘S not my fault they locked me out.”

He smiled, you eyed his teardrop tattoo, and he looked you up and down from head to toe and back up again as if you hadn’t even been wearing the towel at all. “A gift from the Heavens if you ask me.”

You shyly looked away, and thankfully, if not weirdly, you were cut off by sirens. Angered, Spooky started banging on the door demanding for them to let the two of you in. As soon as they noticed the sirens and the knocks that didn’t sound like yours anymore, Ruby wearily let you and the gang leader in.

To say the kids, especially Jamal was scared shitless was an understatement. You couldn’t bear seeing Spooky again, especially being barely clothed so you stayed locked in the room you shared with Olivia, embarrassingly hiding from Spooky and his wandering eyes.

The second time you ran into him, you were fully clothed thankfully. You found your own place, not too far from Ruby’s and Monse’s houses. What you didn’t know, was that his house was right around the corner as well, and on your way to your new job - Dwayne’s Joint. You needed a job, and how could Jamal’s father let anyone go when they were in need? So here you were, a waitress now, about to take an order for Cesar and his brother.

His eyebrow when he saw you and so did that signature smirk. “Aye, Y/N you walk here?”

“Yeah actually - how did you know my name?” you ask bewildered.

Cesar sunk down his seat not making eye contact with you. “I told him.” he whispered.

“Oh, and did you tell him that I worked here as well?”

Cesar’s no response was all the response you needed. Instead of reacting in the irritated way you wanted, you began actually doing your job. It’s too early to lose it - you literally couldn’t afford it. “What can I get you guys?”

“When your shift end?” Spooky asked not answering your question.

“Cesar, you want some fries?” You ask avoiding Spooky’s question. He said nothing, under Spooky’s intimidating eyes. You walked away anyway and got fries for Cesar and Spooky to share just so you didn’t have to spend any extra time under Spooky’s gaze. When the fries were done, you brought them to their table, and Cesar thanked you for it, but all Spooky did was look you up and down, wink and snatch a few fries from the basket.

What you didn’t realize was it was 5 minutes passed your shift being over so you grabbed your stuff, and walked out the door, ready to walk your tired self home.

“Uh uh,” Spooky caught your arm, “Let me give you a ride.”

“Oh, so now you know where I live too?” You asked clearly irritated. He had seen you almost naked, knew your name, where you lived, and you didn’t even know his real name.

“It’s a small block,” he shrugged, “Besides, you're tired. What type of man would I be to let you walk home alone this late?’

At this point, you didn’t have the energy to argue with this man any longer, so you just let the man take you home.

Ever since then, you’d see him around, and he wouldn’t waste any time flirting with you. You’d humor him, you’ll admit it, but you had no idea what compelled you to say yes to a drug and alcohol filled party.

Maybe it was his smile or his muscles, maybe it was his incredibly sexy and convincing voice, or maybe it was that time he kissed you before you he dropped you off at your house.

He was telling you how his Dad came back, and he was ranting, and you knew it had been an incredible stressor for him. When it used to awkward around him, because of the towel incident, you were now incredibly comfortable around him, and it was almost like it never happened - although with flirty remarks he reminded you almost every day.

You were saying goodnight when he kissed you. You were surprised, to say the least, but you kissed him back with just as much passion as you were receiving from his end. He couldn’t take it when he couldn’t feel any of you, so he pulled you into his seat, right onto his seat so that you were straddling him. You ended up hitting the horn on accident, and you both broke out in laughter before he kissed you again. His hands roamed from your hair to your shoulders, to your side and back, and finally to your ass where he wasn’t afraid to give a little attention to.

You don’t know how long you were in that car, but you know that after that night, a blush seemed to be permanently tinted on your cheeks when you’re around him, your lips a little swollen, and hickies would almost always be littered across your skin.

Since you first met him, you knew he was probably a bad idea. He’s not a bad person, but a bad idea. How could you be around the literal epitome of the life you used to live. Did you want to live around that life again? Certainly not. But Spooky made up for it. He never wanted you around during gang-related things and perhaps that distracted you from how bad living this life really was.

Now that you were here though, all you could think about was that pin in your pocket and how long it took you to actually get it. You weren’t giving that up for one stupid night, no matter how hot he was, and how good his lips felt on yours.

Usually Oscar, (you call him that now), never invited you to these things. He knew they weren’t really your scene. And you were appreciative of that. He knew you didn’t like alcohol, or smoking, or drugs, and he wanted to ask, so many times but he could tell that you probably didn’t wanna talk about it. And at the end of the day, did it really matter anyway?

When Oscar came back with your water, you were thankful for the distraction from all the urges surrounding you. You didn’t want to leave too early - you didn’t want to disappoint Oscar, but if things started to become too overwhelming for you, you would have no choice.

“Oscar?” You asked, looking him in his beautiful brown eyes.

“Hm?” He hummed wrapping his arm around your hips.

“Wanna dance with me?”

“I don’t dance mujer hermosa.”

You smiled, intertwining your fingers with his. “You’ll dance with me.”

You pulled him to the lawn where everyone else who was dancing was, and pulled him in front of you. He smiled down at you amusingly following your lead. Reluctantly, he joined you and you both danced - until he decided he needed to be back in control and spun you around so that your back was against his, and you danced against him for a while.

He had to admit that you were unlike anyone he had ever met. He liked it, he liked you, so when you pulled away he was disappointed. You promised him you’d be back and you were just getting a refreshment. You asked if he wanted something, but he refused politely telling you he was fine.

You went over to the refreshment table, but standing in front of the waters, perfectly stacked by Ruby, were two women, who were conversating. “Uhh, excuse me.”

They turned around with glasses full of tequila, their hair almost hitting you in the face. Their cleavage was hanging out, and from what you could tell, their asses were out as well. ‘Must be hella uncomfortable.’ you thought noticing how tight the clothes must be to leave nothing to the imaginations.

“Ooh look,” the brunette squealed, “it’s Spooky’s bitch.”

You were shocked. Since when were you anyone’s anything? You and Oscar sure haven’t put a label on anything, but you sure as hell weren’t claimed and definitely were not about to be called out of your name.

“I just want some water.” You sighed opting to take the easy way out. You didn’t want to start any fights here.

“What don’t want nothing stronger?” The darker haired one asked. “Bourbon? Tequila? Beer? Whiskey?”

“The water is fine.” you were growing impatient with their antics. Could you just get your damn water?

“What you can’t take it? You a lightweight or somethin?”

You rolled your eyes, and the brunette caught it.

“La perra fea probablemente ni siquiera puede hablar español. ¿Para qué coño está ella aquí?”

(Ugly bitch probably can't even speak spanish. What the fuck she even here for?)

You scoffed, but waited to hear the other girl's reaction.

“Ni siquiera sé lo que Spooky ve en ella. Probablemente esa mirada falsa e inocente que tenía.”

(I don't even know what Spooky see in her. Probably that fake innocent look she got going on.)

You were done with these girls but remembered that pin you had in your pocket and everything you had to do to get it. So you gained your composure.

“Escuchen chicas, solo quiero un poco de agua. Solo muévete de la puta manera.”

(Listen girls, I just want some water. Just move out the fucking way.)

And they moved out of your way. Despite what they said, that kind of hurt you, you didn’t want any drama. Especially with a crowd of gang members, and alcohol. It wouldn’t ev=nd well so yeah, you took the easy way out.

You went to go find Oscar, but you were pulled away by Ruby. Jamal was next to him. “Hey Ruby, what’s up?”

“Hey Y/N…” he said, obviously hiding something.

“What’s wrong?” You asked wearily.

He wouldn’t look you in the eyes. “Nothing….”

He was lying, and you were impatient. “Jamal, what’s going on.”

“Oscar and some guys are in the house asking why your like not drinking and smoking and stuff and they said that you were a sleeze and that you were way too innocent and that the only reason Spooky is with you is because you are good in bed but how would anyone know because you don’t dress like a -”

“Okay Jamal that’s enough!” Ruby yelled covering up Jamal’s mouth.

“You know I can’t keep secrets!”

You didn’t know what to say. In the back of your mind, you always thought about if Oscar would like you better if you drank, or if you smoked, but you had no idea he felt limited because you didn’t. You never asked him to quit, you never even told him not to do it around you, so what could possibly be his problem?

You clutched that pin in your pocket again and reminded yourself to not lose yourself again. No matter what people thought, or what they thought you were, it wasn’t worth it.

The kids were the only ones who knew about your past, so you were grateful they came and told you, but you had to leave. You could no longer hold up your happy persona, and you just wanted to go home where you knew that no guns, no drugs, no alcohol, and no weed would be around.

“And what did Spooky say?”

Jamal took out his phone and pressed play on a recording.

You heard a chorus of guys laughing, and then eventually you heard Oscar’s voice.

“Nah I mean, it’s not like she’s too much of a bore or anything...she just don’t smoke or drink. It’s weird and sometimes I wish she would but I don’t know man. Maybe it’d be easier if she did -”

Ruby snatched the phone before you could hear anymore, and you’re glad he did.

You hugged the boys, thanked them, and started walking away.

“Y/N where are you going?” Ruby called out to you.

“I’m going home guys, I can’t be here anymore.” The tears almost started falling, but you wiped them before you could. Ruby ran to you, and wrapped his arms around your waist hugging you tightly.

“I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t want you to miss out on the fun.” you sniffled ruffling his hair.

“It’s not fun anymore.”

He and Jamal went home with you that night and watched movies with you, trying to cheer you up. They stayed over, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have boys like them in your lives - always there for you as you were for them.

When Oscar realized you were gone, he called you repeatedly, and when you didn’t answer, he immediately hopped into his car and drove to your apartment. He knocked hard and knocked until you opened the door.

“What are you doing here Spooky?”

“What am I doing here?” he yelled. “And since when am I Spooky to you, huh?”

You were tired, and frustrated, and just a little heartbroken.

How dare he talk about you, and come to your door yelling at you.

“I need you to lower your voice.” you sighed. “You’ll wake the boys.”

“You think I give a fuck about those boys?” Tell me why you haven’t answered any of your calls, and why you left without telling me where the hell you’re going?”

“You don’t own me Spooky! You’re not my daddy! But I should just stick around though right? ‘Cause oh no, “she’s not too much of a bore,” Right? “It’d be easier if I smoke and drank though wouldn’t it? It’d be easier if I damaged my lungs, and my brain, and my stomach for you?! Fuck off Spooky.” You were on the verge of tears. “I’m not changing myself for you, or your petty ass friends, so just go the fuck home!”

He didn’t know how to react with you yelling at him like that. He’s never seen this hurt side of you, and he’s sure he never ever wants to see it again. He didn’t know how you found out about what he was saying but he wishes you didn’t because he didn’t mean any of what he said the way you took it. Every time he looked into your eyes though, all he saw was hurt, pain, anger, and disbelief.

The same things he was feeling himself although he’d never admit it. It hurt his heart to see your red eyes botched from crying, pained him to see your hair a mess by how many times you’ve inevitably pulled it out of stress. It angered him that he said those things, and he was listening to all those whining bitches around him. He didn’t believe he could let himself listen to all those hating people that surrounded him on the daily.

Before he could defend himself, the door slammed in his face and he let it. He didn’t know what to say, but soon he would. There was no way he’d let you slip away. You were too good. But maybe that’s exactly why he should let you go. If tonight proved anything, it was that you weren’t for this life, and who was he to let you around it? Hell, maybe he shouldn’t be around it either. Maybe what tonight really proved to him was that life outside the Santos, and outside of the bad decisions and outside of the violence. If there’s one thing you taught him, it would be to never let anyone change him. The gang life changed him. The Santos changed him. But you were bringing the real him back out and of course like everything else, he fucked it up.

When he got back home, the party had dispersed. Cesar was in the living room, and he jumped when he heard Oscar come home slamming the door. He heard chairs being shoved, tables, cups. Anything in eyesight was being disheveled at the hands of Oscar.

“Aye, aye!! What the hell are you doing?!” Cesar yelled over the commotion.

“Fuck this shit man!” Oscar yelled to no one in particular.

Cesar rolled his eyes and went back to his room. Whatever the problem was, could be solved tomorrow.

The next day though, once Ruby and Jamal left after telling them about a million times that you’d be okay, you started packing a bag. It’s time you went back to your old life and visit for a while.

It’s been 3 days, and 18 hourse since you’ve been gone - Cesar’s been counting because that’s how long Oscar’s been going fucking crazy. He was yelling at everyone, almost killed a guy, and just has been absolutely restless. He’s called you, texted you, went to your job, your house, your favorite restaurant and nothing. Oscar didn’t know what to do with himself.

It hurt him to know you were out there mad at him, and he never got a chance to explain himself or tell you how sorry he was for everything he’s done. If there’s one thing he’s realized these past three days, is that he could live without you, but he didn’t want to.

Before you, he wasn’t taking care of himself. He thought of people as disposable, and he was literally angry all the time. After you though, he is quite literally almost a new person, and he loves who he is now.

Without you though, he was back to being Spooky: the notorious gang leader.

You gently lay the flowers down on the ground in front of you, followed by a single tear. Two years ago today, the love of your life overdosed. You remember like it was yesterday.

You had already gone off the grid when you met him. Drinking, smoking, and hookups almost every night. So when you met him, adding drugs to the mix wasn’t very hard. He had been your first and last dealer. All your friends tried to warn you to stay away from him, but you didn’t care. You were in love with him. He was caring, and kind, and funny. You were in a bliss.

He had even asked you to marry him one night. You planned children with him.

Unfortunately though, one night you came home to find him dead. He had overdosed while you went out to get more drinks.

After his funeral, your friends basically kidnapped you, helped you detox, sent you to rehab, and went with you to AA (Alcohol Anonymous) meetings. It wasn’t as easy as it sounds though. Detox hurt like a bitch, and you’ve gone through it at least 5 times before you finally quit for good. You’ve gone to rehab a total of three times, and you can’t even count how many times you’ve gone to AA meetings.

At first you did it for him. You did it to try to get sober for the both of you - since he couldn’t anymore. But soon after you fell off the wagon, because trying to keep his memory alive wasn’t enough of a motivation.

Wanting to get out of that life, and back to normal you realized, was motivation enough. You shouldn’t live for someone else - only for yourself.

Once you got over the guilt of his death, that’s exactly what you did. Lived for yourself.

When you left the cemetery, you got a couple of texts. The ones from Oscar you ignored, but the ones from Cesar, you immediately opened.

Cesar: Y/N. Spooky kicked me out, can I stay at yours?

You: Ofc! You know where the key is.

Cesar: You’re a lifesaver, I love you forever.

You had to get back home. You couldn’t let Cesar live on his own, and you weren’t sure how much food you had in your fridge, how would he get food? And why the hell would Oscar kick him out? His own brother, only fifteen! Oh boy, you were gonna kick his ass when you got back home, for more reasons than one.

When you were finally back, you noticed Cesar dead asleep on your couch, blankets twisted every which way. His mouth hung open, arm across his face, chinese on the floor, and the tv still on. You couldn’t but laugh at his craziness. You fixed his blanket so that it was more comfortable for him, turned off the tv, and put up the chinese in case he wanted them for leftovers.

You wrote him a note in case he woke up during your visit to his brother.

‘Hey, I’m back. Don’t be alarmed, I’ll be right back.”

Love, Y/N

The walk to Spooky’s was nauseating. Usually when you took this trip, your heart was ecstatic, and your stomach filled with butterflies. Usually, you couldn’t wait to see him, and couldn’t wait to hear his laugh, but now all you wanted to do was punch him in his face.

When you got there, surprisingly, there weren’t any people littered across the yard. Giving you a little extra courage considering the lack of people, you started knocking on the door..hard.

He opened it ready for a fight, but his body immediately deflated when he saw you.

“Y/N.” He breathed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? No seriously, what’s going on? Because no self respecting man would kick his teen brother out of the house.”

“I -”

“No. You listen. I don’t care about your reasoning, and I don’t care about anything you have to say. I only came down here to tell you that he’s staying with me, until you come to your fucking senses.”

“No, wait- “

“You don’t get to have the last word, Spooky.”

He absolutely hated when you called him that. When you said that name it sounded like poison, like your dehumanizing him. When others called him that, he felt a sense of authority. When you called him by that stupid ass name, it’s when he knows he’s fucked up, and he’s felt like you shot him in the chest 100 times.

The next morning, you were eating breakfast with Cesar.

“Do you need a ride to school?” You ask.

He nods.

“Okay, well after school I’m gonna take you shopping for new clothes too because you can’t go around in the same three outfits everyday.” You say trying to lighten the mood.

“No, Y/N it’s okay. You’ve already done enough, believe me. I can’t ask for anymore.”

“Good thing you didn’t ask. And I sure as hell wasn’t asking either.”

Once you were pulled up in front of his school, he looked fidgety.

“Where did you go?” He asked, worried.

“I went to go say goodbye to my old life. For good.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a great thing.” You sighed . “Speaking of, I’m gonna go to one of my meetings after I drop you off. Do you need me to pick you up afterwards?”

“No I’m good. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to let a few things off my chest.”

As soon as you drove off, Cesar called his brother.

“What?” He sneered.

“If you want to make things up with Y/N, go to this address quickly.” He gave him the address. “Sit in the back, that way she won’t notice you.”

Oscar was beyond confused but nevertheless, he pulled up outside of a nice looking building and went inside, following the directions, and looking for the room number that Cesar gave him. When he looked inside, there were people all around sitting in chairs, and a podium in the very front that he noticed you walk up to.

He sat in the very back where Cesar told him so that you couldn’t see him.

“Hi, I’m Y/N and I’m an alcoholic.”

“Hi Y/N.” The crown chorused.

This was an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting Oscar realized. You never told him you had a problem. Jesus Christ, he felt like a proper dick. He wanted to shoot himself. He wished he could take everything back, and apologize profusely.

“I’ve been sober for almost three years now.”

The crowd started clapping, including Oscar. He was proud of you.

“This past weekend,” you started, “I went to go visit my ex.”

Oscar’s jaw clenched, along with his fist. He was furious. So that’s what you’ve been doing this whole time? One fight, and you go back to your ex?

“He overdosed four years ago.”

Oh. He died. Again, Oscar felt like a piece of shit.

“I went crazy when he died.” you began. “I literally almost killed myself with all of the drugs and alcohol consumption. It took me a long time to get back on my feet again, and to stop feeling sorry for what happened. Hell, I was going to marry the man I did drugs with! Granted, we were gonna come clean, but he died before he was given the chance. I still had a chance. It was hard, and this weekend proved that it was worth it.”

There were tears in your eyes, and all Oscar wanted to do was wipe them away. God, he wanted to punch himself multiple times over and over again until he was almost dead. How dare he make you feel bad about something, let alone something that took you so long to overcome?

“I went to a party where there was alcohol and drugs and things, and there were so many temptations, but I didn’t give in, and I’m so happy I didn’t.” A few tears fell from your face. “I might have lost a person very important to me, but my sobriety is just as important, and I wasn’t going to give up almost three years worth for one night, and stupid people.”

You walked off the podium, and people started clapping loudly in support. Now that you’ve said these things out loud, the more great you felt. When you were finding your seat though, you caught a glimpse of someone in the back. You were furious. What the hell was he doing here?

You walked over to him, silently telling him to follow you, and he did right outside.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Y/N, I’m an asshole, I’m a jerk, and a ass, an idiot and a prick.”

You looked at the ground. “Go on.”

“I am so fucking sorry, you have no idea. I’m selfish, and I’m the dumbest fuckup ever, and I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

He steps closer to you, and you let him.

“What I do know is that I’m a different person when I’m with you. I’m the person I want to be, and I know its such a fucking cliche but I have never loved anyone like I love you.”

You were crying now, and he was starting to too. He walked closer, and pulled you into a bear hug.

“I shouldn't have judged you, and I’m so so sorry. I know talking and apologizing won’t make up for what I did, but what can I do?”

You stepped back, and looked him in his eyes before smacking him hard across his face.

He held the side of his face clearly hurt, and said nothing.

“I love you too jackass.”

He smiled, and pulled you to him kissing you softly. Tears fell between the two of you but you didn’t notice. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping both his strong arms around your waist lifting you a couple of inches from the ground. His lips tasted like honey between yours, you could feel all his stress evaporating as soon as you wrapped your arms around his neck. When you pulled away, he pressed a quick chaste kiss to your jaw, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

A couple of weeks later, you learned why Oscar had kicked him out and in fear of you leaving him, and never forgiving him again, he solved it - just like you knew he could.

He seemed to figure out the most stupidest way to do so though because here he was in front of you bleeding, with gashes all over his face, arms and chest: Abuela helped clean him up.

“You’re an absolute dumbass.” You said, helping clean his wounds.

“I did what I had to do.”

The people who had talked about you at the party almost a month ago, apologized and you knew that Oscar had something to do with it.

Even though you never asked him to, Oscar also slowly stopped drinking and smoking.

When you confronted him about it, he just shrugged and said, “I don’t feel like damaging my lungs, my brain, and my stomach no more.”

You smiled, and cheekily climbed onto his lap pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to mamas,” He kissed you sweetly. “You’re worth it.”

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alexlabhont · 3 years

Text

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter ten

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really

Tags: @dopeyouth @theymakemegayer @save-me-the-last-dance @poppysmc (If anyone want to be tagged in or removed, just tell me)

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so… i’m sorry fo the grammar errors. I also installed recently Grammary, so… hope its worth it.

CHAPTERS

Chapter nine

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

——————————————————————

Poppy:

See you then, tushi face 😉

She wrote on her phone, knowing very well what It meant: She succeeded. Again.

That was the very first time Beck had actually asked her out, which was a sign that every single move worked just right; nothing to be surprised though, she was pretty damn fabulous and she wouldn't pretend otherwise.

"It took you a while, actually." Veronica said later that day when Poppy reached out to their friends at the fraternity house. "Nor even Carter gave you so much trouble."

"Carter is just an immature boy who thought a pretty girl plus a gigantic football player were just meant to be." The blonde responded with a snap. "Beck's slightly different, they didn't care for a face. The trick is to be yourself, but not too much. It took me a while to figure that out, but now that I get it, that one is mine to be borrowed." A strange feeling of satisfaction filled her, making her smile at that thought.

"But... have you guys fuck?" Chloe asked suddenly with a confused gaze, Poppy couldn't help but roll her eyes as hard as she could while she felt how both of her friends were watching her, gosh, even Veronica left the phone aside just for that question.

"What the hell, Chloe? Not everything's about sex, you whore."

"Are you serious?" She heard her brunette friend said, intrigued. Poppy could smell the problems that what she just said was about to bring. There it was one simple rule: If Poppy wants it, Poppy has it, and it has been like this since ever. So yeah, that matter was definitely weird. "Why? Don't you tell me you're too afraid to do it."

"Of course not!" She said angrily. "I did my research, and fucking Beck’s no different from any other experience I've had. I think it is them who's not ready..." A tiny hint of concern showed up in Poppy's voice without helping it. Of course she noticed it! The relief coming from their eyes when Zoey walked into both of them, as if they were scared, and being caught in the middle was a much better option than to actually do it. She was so offended by it that she told them she had something to do and disappeared from there.

"I think it might have something to do with their life back at Farmsville. I don't know what it is, but if I get to sleep with them, I know I'd have won. That's the next step." Poppy said, taking a ballpen from her desk to write down her new goal, she was that kind of girl who loved to put her ideas on paper to think them through.

"So… You're counting on gain their trust enough to fuck them to finally control them?" Veronica pointed out, looking at Poppy as if she was a mad.

"Exactly… And all I need is tomorrow morning. It needs to be perfect and I have just the thing for it." a smirk showed off on her face, the determination of winning was written down on every single muscle of her body.

“Don’t you think you’re putting a lot more effort into it than it’s needed?” Chloe asked again.

“Mind your own business and let me do the planning, Chloe. After all, we know you forgot to pay your brain bill.”

The bitch-y mode was on. She hated when she was being questioned about her actions especially when Poppy knew that everything she has been doing was necessary to achieve a goal; her enemy was powerful, she just had to see the rankings to realize it, Beck climbed as easy as the wind, doing things in this short time than a lot of people couldn’t do in years being here and they didn’t seem as trying. She needed to have them next to her for control.

Or at least, that's what she was telling herself. Something deep down her core murmured something else, something that might be too scary to admit, so she won’t. Never. However, that went down to the trash when she saw Beck the next day. It wasn’t their looks at all, actually, it was on point as always even though it was casual; the problem was her. Poppy could feel her heart becoming warm to the sight of that stupid lamb look of theirs with that sexy yet cute fucking smile they gave her. A little red alarm sounded in her head, but it wasn’t that big of a deal, so she shoved it down.

"Hey" Beck greeted her. "You made it."

"Of course I did, I have a driver for my needs. What are we doing here?"

Beck asked her to meet them at Whitehall street at nine sharp, but they didn't tell her what to expect, so Poppy was rather curious. Beck put his hands in his pockets, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Yeah, sure… You have money and stuff, but… have you ever seen the Statue of Liberty from a helicopter?" Poppy's eyes went wide open, she was frankly surprised, how did they manage to get that? Wasn't Beck poor? It had to do with their YouTube account?

"No." She managed to say, trying not to sound so amazed; that was a pretty impressive idea, not going to lie.

"Well— Today is not the day you'd get to do it, because we're taking the ferry." Gosh, she should have seen this coming.

"You're such an idiot." She pointed, irritated by having been fooled like that. "Wait, what ferry are we taking?"

"That one." The strawberry blond could have sworn a mischievous spark lighted up Beck's eyes as they pointed at an awful orange ship coming to shore, that ferry looked so old that maybe it saw her grandmother born and grow.

"What?! There is no way in hell I'll be onto that thing."

"Oh, come on, Popps. Don't talk about it like that. The Staten Island Ferry is full of a butch of history on its own. It's the door to new experiences!"

"Like death?"

"It's totally safe." Beck replied chuckling. "And free."

"Whatever you say, I'm going home." She tried to go, but Beck's hand took her by the arm with a delicate touch.

"Give us a chance, just one chance —well, maybe two actually— but I promise you won't regret it."

Poppy turned to see them, still not sure about any of it. She had never been on that ferry, and she didn't care too much about it anyway when the destination was Staten Island. She didn't know what was their motivation to go to the most boring part of all New York, but that fucking face of theirs! Sometimes she wished they weren't that good-looking.

"I swear to God, Beck if something happens to me or my outfit I'll kill you and your entire music career."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Cruella."

They waited for a few minutes to get on the ferry, but once both were there, Poppy couldn't help but cling herself to Beck's arm. Truth be told, she hated boats. A lot. Once when she was a kid she fell from one of those little keels into the lake, and when she tried to come out, Poppy discovered that the boat was right above her head. She literally had nightmares about that day, especially on rainy days. With the time Poppy got to overcome that fear and now she loved to be invited to yacht parties —with the rightful security system, clearly—, but that ferry was ancient for god knows how many decades, and it being free was a bad forerunner to her, how many drowned people were behind all its story?

She jumped when the ferry started to move into the waters, the surprise was so much that her nails dug their way into Beck's clothes, reaching for the skin.

"Ouch! That fucking hurts!"

"Good."

Beck didn't say a thing after that, they were more focused on the shore as if they were waiting for something to happen back there. Then, after a while they smiled.

"Now that's a view." They said with a wide grin on their face. "Turn around." Poppy, who was too busy looking at the Upper Bay and thinking how awful would be to fall from there, suddenly found herself being turned over by Beck to the other side of the ship.

And what she saw was spectacular.

Maybe it wasn't from a helicopter at all, but getting to see that part of the Statue of Liberty going far and far away from them both was incredible, a breathtaking picture that she had never appreciated until that day. Unexpectedly that made her think about how much she was missing even after living in New York a while now: The smell of the ocean, the sea breeze hitting softly in her face, the sun illuminated the statue and the clouds behind it. It was like a painting coming out alive.

"It's beautiful…" she whispered without her noticing it until it was outside her mouth.

"Definitely it is…" Poppy heard Beck mumbled, so she looked at them almost immediately. Maybe it was one of those moments in movies where Beck would talk about her and not exactly the panorama, but no. Beck's eyes were glued to the sculpture. For a moment she felt disappointed, but then she caught a glimpse of blush into their cheeks and tension in their lips proving her that she wasn't wrong. Yes, definitely they were talking about her.

"I know it doesn't look as fancy as the other ferries, but… this is why it's worth the while. And I have to admit that watching it with you was so much better than doing it alone, so... thank you."

“Why?"

"For trusting in me." They said. Poppy stopped a little, thinking through those words.

"I guess I like you more than I thought." She then replied. The weird thing? The blonde actually meant what she said. But that didn’t mean anything, Beck was not as lame as she thought, no big deal, right?

Both spent a while like that, quiet but freely relaxed, looking at what the ocean had to offer. She didn't recall the exact moment when she started to do it, but at one point she laid down her head, resting it on Beck's shoulder while they hugged by the waist, it was as if in that exact moment nothing else mattered; she didn’t have to think about her obligations, about popularity, about pretending . The ride was about twenty-five minutes long but for some reason, they went very fast. She almost was disappointed when it came to an end until she remembered there was only one way back.

“So now what? We wait for the next ferry?”

Beck raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really think we came all the way here because of one ride?"

"Beck, is Staten Island. What else could you do?"

"Damn, Poppy. I'm starting to think you're too boring on your own." Beck teased

" What if you stop saying bullshit and tell me what do you have planned from now on instead?" Beck smiled as if they were waiting for that question.

"Come with and find out." That cursed smirk of theirs came as a challenge, while Beck started to walk towards the bus stop.

God, this was going to be terrible.

________

#poppy min sinclair #queen b choices #poppy x mc #choices stories you play #choices #choices poppy #bea hughes #mc x poppy #beck hughes #choices queen b mc #trans #ftm

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