#but my event is just not suited for them!

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Another celebration ficlet request! The original ask for this one seems to have gotten deleted, and it was sent on anon, so I can't even tag the person who sent it in. 😫

I hope you still see this and enjoy, nonnie! 💖

Heaven's in the backseat

Rated: E

Words: 1,000

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Mob boss Dick Harrington; Mentions of Stommy; Knife play; Dubious consent; Obsessive behavior; Violent thoughts; Car sex; Eddie has anger management issues and Steve is a little slut

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

Eddie has just lit his first cigarette of the night when one of the waiters informs him that Mr. Harrington wants him outside. As he grinds the cigarette under his boot, he imagines doing the same thing to Dick’s stupid head. 

Working for a mob boss is so goddamn exhausting. 

A week where Eddie doesn't come close to kicking the proverbial bucket is a good week - especially now that Dick has been taking him along as a bodyguard more and more often. He’s not complaining about that, though. Occupational hazard. 

No, what’s really annoying is the damn black tie affairs. As if squeezing into a fucking suit wasn't enough, the social dynamics of the underworld are mind-numbingly complicated. All of the big mob families are either related or out to kill each other - more often than not both at the same time. It makes events such as this an interesting affair, to say the least. All night long, Eddie has been hovering at the edge of the room while the boss ate and drank and shook hands with other important farts. Always vigilant, always ready to pull his knife from its holster under his suit jacket. And now he can’t even step out for ten minutes to have a fucking smoke? 

The car is parked in the driveway when he arrives. Next to it are the boss himself and a swaying figure with disheveled chestnut hair wearing a rumpled suit. 

Eddie’s blood bubbles and his steps speed up.

“-fucking disgrace,” Harrington says just as he flies down the stairway leading to the car. “You’ll do anything for attention, won’t you?” 

Eddie doesn’t catch the slurred reply, but it must’ve been the wrong one, because Harrington slaps the boy across the face before wrestling him into the backseat. Eddie’s hand is already on the knife when the asshole turns. For a heartbeat, he revels in the temptation of lodging the blade right in the middle of that ugly face, but he reigns himself in. Too much security, too many witnesses. 

“My son is drunk,” Harrington says. “Drive him home.” 

Before Eddie has a chance to reply, he has stalked past him and back into the venue.

*

“What the hell took you so long?” 

Eddie casts a look into the rearview mirror to see the venue disappearing behind them and Steve straightening up in his seat. His voice is still slightly slurred, his eyes a bit unfocused - but he's nowhere near as drunk as he appeared seconds ago. Eddie's mouth tugs into a grin. 

“What, I don't get a thank you for driving you? Where are your manners, little nymph?” 

“Why should I thank you for doing your literal job?” Steve’s mirror image scoffs at him. His bottom lip is pink and a little puffy where his father slapped him. “And don't call me that.” 

“I'm a bodyguard, not a chauffeur,” Eddie says. “There's a difference, y’know?” 

“You're a dog,” Steve drawls. “You do whatever my dad tells you to.” 

Eddie’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. Steve’s mouth curls at the edges, but his eyes stay bored. 

“How about you?” Eddie asks, once he has blinked the crimson shadows from his vision. “What did you do to incur his wrath? Must’ve been pretty bad, if you feigned being so wasted he’d send you home like some misbehaving child.” 

“None of your business, is it?” Steve snaps. Then, after a second or two, the aloof facade slips back on and he shrugs. “He caught me in the bathroom with Hagan.” 

Something slithers low in Eddie’s gut, dangerous and deadly like a coil of venomous snakes. 

“What? That ugly, freckled fuckface? C’mon, you can do better than that.” 

Steve laughs, a sound like the edge of a knife - bright and pretty and sharp-edged. “Why do you care? You don’t own me. What is it to you if Tommy fucking Hagan shoves his cock up my-” 

He doesn’t get any further than that. Eddie pulls over to the side of the road and slams on the brakes. One fluid motion later, he has scaled the middle console and has Steve pinned on the backseat, wrists trapped over his head in a one-handed vice grip. 

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, voice low and lethal. “But this is where you’re wrong, see? You are mine. And one of these days, I’m gonna make sure everyone knows it.” 

Those pretty eyes go wide as he slides the knife from its holster. The blade gleams, catching what little light there is in the dark car. With one flick of his wrist, he slices away the top button of Steve’s expensive shirt, revealing the long, graceful line of that neck. Steve exhales a shaky breath and his throat bops with it. 

“One of these days,” Eddie murmurs, trailing the tip of the blade over tan skin, leaving just the thinnest of red lines. “I’m gonna kill everyone who ever looked at you or touched you wrong and claim you as mine. Stuff you so full of my cock you forget about everyone else, until the only word you remember is my name. Carve my initials into that pretty skin of yours so nobody ever forgets who you belong to.” 

Steve looks up at him, eyes bright and hazy, and a little whimper falls from his perfect lips. He writhes deliciously in Eddie’s hold, and for a moment, Eddie thinks he’s scared, that he’s gonna plead for mercy. 

But then he slots his leg between Steve’s thighs to hold him in place and he feels it. He looks down at the boy in awed surprise and can’t help the grin that creeps over his face.

When Steve speaks, his voice is hoarse and breathy, but not from fear. 

“Do it, then,” he challenges, rolling his hips and grinding his hard cock against Eddie’s thigh. His lips strain to meet Eddie’s, breath warm and wet against his skin.  “Make me yours.” 

Eddie has never been so happy to obey in his life. 

More celebration ficlets

[siphoklansan]

HEYHEY SIPPY!!! For the ask game, I hope you don't mind me asking for... kind of a lot because I'm really curious jskdkfs but you can cut some out if want to, dw!

🌹♥️♠️⚗️📚🏆 for Siphok and 🌟🤖 for Pin-cha?

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS ᝰ.ᐟ

sippy and riddle are friends! both of them have one thing in common: a stickler for rules. the only difference is that sippy doesn’t follow crazy rules (ex. heartslabyul’s strange traditions!)

fun fact: they both hated each other before the end of book 1 because:

⤷ sippy likes to voice out her opinions, so she gets into a yelling match from time to time with riddle when she disagrees with his behavior. ( “IT’S JUST A TART, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” 💀 /j but yeah something like that-)

⤷ riddle hates how she doesn’t give two shits about his rule. ( “Nuh-uh.” “What do you mean “Nuh-Uh” ?!?”) and she also defends adeuce when they break the rules, much to their surprise.

at the end of book 1 they both had a truce and became some sort of buddies to each other! they both share an interest in small critters <3

ACE TRAPPOLA & DEUCE SPADE ᝰ.ᐟ

besties for life (adeuce will not admit it) they always go everywhere with each other and grim!

sippy is #1 deuce defender because she kins him😭 so ace rarely wins and argument when she’s around. sippy tutors deuce for history class (more on this later!) and deuce returns the favor by helping her fix things around ramshackle <3

like deuce, sippy bickers a lot with ace but it’s all fun and games. she’s like a tired mom with him (begrudgingly watches his basketball matches because ace insists on it so much, secretly doesn’t mind and enjoys it lmao-). I lowkey see ace as a therapist friend for some reason since he’s usually the voice of reason so she goes to him for advice sometimes! Only for certain occasions though cuz we know how ace is💀 /hj

DIVUS CREWEL ᝰ.ᐟ

#1 dad for sippy. they both go on shopping sprees together (crewel insists on it, because sippy wears the same outfit everyday and it irks him 💀). sippy isn’t the best at potions class so he tutors her privately at times!

crewel designs outfits for sippy sometimes! in the ghost bride event, her suit was tailored to her by crewel.

a short angst scenario for them would be sippy feels bad to see him as a dad because she doesn’t know if crewel sees her as a daughter but he actually feels the same😔.

other than that, sippy got a little more strict because she picked up some habits from crewel (much to adeuce’s dismay😭).

MOZUS TREIN (doesn’t look like him, i know) ᝰ.ᐟ

that one proud grand-uncle (?) TM /j

sippy is likes history classes, so it’s like a breath of fresh air for him in class (“Finally, someone who does not snore every 2 minutes.” /j)

not much to comment on them, but one thing trein dislikes about sippy is that she covers for students who are slacking off in class ( ex. covering grim’s sleeping form with a book) and he’s just like -_- but trein counters that by deducting both her and the other student (who’s mostly grim) participation points💀

ASHTON VARGAS ᝰ.ᐟ

that one crazy and upbeat uncle at family gatherings TM 💀 /j

while sippy is good in athletics, she doesn’t do very well in flying due to a small fear of heights.

⤷ “THE BROOM IS TOO THIN IT CAN’T CARRY MY FATASS!” “LANGUAGE! But no, it *can* hold your weight.”

sippy dreads vargas’s class because he pushes her more than anyone else.

⤷ “lift some more weights! your arms are like noodles!” vargas says, as he dumps some more shit into her arms-

KALIM AL ASIM ᝰ.ᐟ

pin-cha and kalim is like the worst nightmare for jamil, who’s already acting like a single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops-

yes, they go on carpet rides together🥺💓 pin-cha reminds kalim of one of his siblings back at home so they hit it off pretty well!

jamil is a little weirded out how well pin-cha is good at household chores but is also secretly relieved (and concerned) how pin-cha is babysitting kalim and not the other way around /hj

CHEKA KINGSCHOLAR ᝰ.ᐟ (NOT A SHIP ART!!)

RRAAAGHSGSHHSHGSHSG FINALLY SOMEONE MENTIONS CHEKAAAAA!! THEY’RE BESTFRIENDS, YOUR HONOR😭✨

cue leona thanking the gods for giving cheka someone to play with so he can finally nap in peace LMAO

cheka drags pin-cha away from his cleaning duties in rsa! the headmage of rsa adores them both (happy grandpa noises) <3

cheka enjoys when pin-cha shows his unique magic, summoning little spirits around to play with them. it’s like having extra friends to play!

yes, they both call leona “unca”💀 leona had to call sippy over to help him babysit them both (an excuse to be with her I MEAN WHAAATTT⁉️ I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING-)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK, TARU!!💖💖 SO SORRY FOR THE LATE AND VERY LONG REPLY😭🙏 I had a lot of fun with this ask though I can’t find the link to the OG post anymore :((

I swear this whole post looks like some character who is liked by everybody but I promise you it’s not the case😭 she just has a good impression on the professors AHUSHSUGSYSI BUT ANYWAY I’ll list some characters who doesn’t like sippy (but i’ll leave the reasoning out for now👀)

⤷ ruggie

⤷ sebek

⤷ idia

⤷ jamil (kinda like a hate-neutral relationship?)

With that said, thank you again for the ask!!🥺💖🫶🫶

[traumxrei-archive]

【 vii. beholder of beauty 】

summary: the aristocracy valued knowledge on fashion and make up trends, and yuu was at a bit of a loss… they were pleasantly surprised when jamil had volunteered to help them decide on a look for the debutante.

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: time for jamil to become a make up artist for you,,,,i feel like the act of doing someone’s make up is so intimate, so i hope you enjoy ^^

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

Makeup wasn't something that Yuu particularly indulged in. They knew it was important in aristocratic society. One's knowledge on fashion and makeup trends was an indicator to how much they paid attention to new developments across the country.

Except...Yuu was only vaguely aware of the changes and fluxes in style. And they weren't confident in deciding their makeup all by themself. It was an occupational hazard when you were a Duke's heir that just graduated from college. That was why they called on backup.

Yuu entered the room, sunlight filtering through the window softly. And waiting for them was...Jamil. Usually, they would've called on a makeup artist to help with the process, but curiously enough Jamil had offered himself for the role.

The maid looked pristine as usual, his braids and hair pulled back into an elegant long ponytail. His legs were crossed under his long pleated skirts, his apron tied perfectly to accentuate his waist. 

"Master," Jamil greeted with a bow of his head. Yuu wrinkled their nose. Jamil, like Azul and Riddle, was a stickler for formalities. And despite the countless times they had asked him not to bow, he always did. It was out of respect more than anything else, but still...they were all former classmates after all.

"Is that all yours?" Yuu asked, nodding to the bag beside Jamil.

"No, some is mine, and some are Floyd's. The rest was ordered for you, Master," Jamil took off his lace gloves. "May I?" They ungloved their hand, offering it to him. Jamil then went to work testing out a few products against their skin.

"What kind of makeup would you prefer, Master?" Jamil asked, and they glanced up to see the maid completely absorbed in picking through the products and testing them.

Yuu looked away. Jamil was handsome when he was focusing. But that wasn't the point. "Isn't it best to follow the trends?"

Jamil seemed to pause before lightly shaking his head, "Sometimes trends don't match with everyone. They're overgeneralized, and might not suit your features."

"Is that so?" Yuu picked up one of the tubes of make up. "What kind of makeup do you think would be best for the event?"

"If I were to say my opinion, since it is a debutante," Jamil gently took the tube in their hand, revealing a wand with a glittering substance. "Something regal, a bit on the serious side."

"So what kind of make up do you think would suit me?" Jamil's hands lagged for a second, and they caught the slightest trace of nervousness on his face before it disappeared.

"Would it be okay to show you, Master?" Grey eyes flitted to theirs, his voice low. Yuu blinked, feeling slightly captivated by Jamil’s offer.

"I...by all means," Yuu sat up straighter as Jamil stood up, and they weren't sure where to look.

"Close your eyes, Master," Jamil said as he lifted up a tube of makeup. They oblidged and they could feel Jamil's fingers firmly brushing against their face. Jamil would give instructions every once in a while ("Tilt your head down, Master." "Could you open your eyes?") Yuu couldn’t stomach the silence, each touch of Jamil’s fingers making them warm. And so they asked whatever questions came to their mind.

"I didn't knew you knew how to do makeup," Jamil had reached for a brush, the bristles tickling as it glided against their skin.

"It was my sister," And they stared at him, silently begging for a little more explanation. And it seemed that Jamil had noticed, "She always insisted on getting makeup done when she was younger. So..."

Yuu couldn't help their curiosity, "So...?"

Jamil glanced down at them briefly, a resigned expression on his face, "She would always insist I do it too."

"Really?"

"Really. I learned how to do it so that my mother wouldn't scold her too," Jamil smoothed back their hair for a moment before pausing. "Master. You find that amusing, don't you?"

Yuu wondered if the smile on their face was a bit too obvious, "It's a cute story. You really dote on your sister...you must've been a good brother to her."

Jamil didn't reply to them, instead giving them a once over before taking a step back, "It is done." 

Yuu was handed a mirror, and they found that they were looking at...themself. They blinked, and the face in the mirror blinked too. Their eyes looked more pronounced, a silvery sheen on their eyelids. And they couldn't see their eyebags at all. Their lips were a shade more red. Or was it pink? It looked...pretty. Natural.

So this was what Jamil thought suited them. They could see the care that was put into the makeup, and something warm bloomed in their chest.

Without thinking too deeply about it, they turned to Jamil, "Let's do this for the debutante."

Jamil's shoulders jumped, "E...Excuse me?" 

"This makeup. I like it," They beamed, gently brushing back their hair. "I'd like you to do it for the debutante too." 

Jamil had abandoned his usual composed expression for disbelief, "Master, this...it isn't makeup for events. It's more suited as daily makeup. And I didn't really—"

"Change my appearance?" Yuu completed. "You made me look like...me. That's what I like about it. I don't think I need to change how I look just to be respected." Jamil seemed to contemplate their words, his disposition shifting to one of solemn acceptance.

Finally, the maid lowered his head, "I'm sorry Master, for insinuating that you need to change yourself."

Now it was Yuu's turn to feel awkward, "Ah. That's not what I meant to imply. I meant to say that I liked your makeup as it is. It’s a ‘never mind about the trends, we'll do our own thing!’ kind of statement. So you can stop bowing already." 

Jamil lifted his head, as Yuu picked up a tube of what looked like rouge, "Besides, you've roused my interest in makeup now. Maybe I should learn how to do it for my maids so people don't take you lightly at the ball." 

"Master, wouldn't it be better to leave such matters to me?" Jamil mumbled, though he didn't say no. 

"Well...I'll leave it to you for the debutante, but," They knew that it wouldn't take much more pushing for him to agree. "Could I try out doing makeup on you?"

Jamil huffed, though he sat back down, "I'm expecting great things from you, Master." 

Yuu beamed before scanning the makeup items, "Do forgive me if you end up looking like a two-year-old's drawing." Jamil simply closed his eyes and Yuu felt like they were back at NRC again.

They often nagged at Jamil to teach them things when they were younger and less knowledgable about formalities. And Jamil always said no at least one time before giving in, so it felt a bit nostalgic to live through the same pattern, despite the fact that their roles have changed vastly throughout the years. Ah, it was a nostalgic thing indeed.

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !

[ prev chapter | series post | next chapter ]

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Uwaa! I'm loving your Dantalian headcanon!

I can see him, Eligos, Paimon and Orias going shopping together? TT-TT) we need the cutiepies of Hell gathered! Nilfheim and Lost Paradise where you at!?

Meanwhile, Dong-gyun from Avisos can be considered a cutiepie but he isn't in their level yet so he holds all their shopping bags;;;

I could see it go something like this

*On their special group chat*

Dantalian: ELIGOOOOOOOS

Dantalian: Dad told me that we have to go to this really important event but all my clothes are fetish outfits :(

Dantalian: The festival has a decency policy!!!! The people at Paradise Lost are insane!

Eligos: I've actually got a brand new collection in partnership with Paimon and Orias

Dantalian: Ok, I know Paimon, but who tf id Orias?

Eligos: He's a beauty guru! He's quite popular on [NOT TRADEMARKED VIDEO SHARING WEBSITE]

Eligos: you should look him up

Dantalian: That's a new one

Dantalian: I don't think I have it yet, let me go whine to my dad about it.

Eligos: Tell His Majesty Asmodeus to pay his taxes!!!

Eligos: Sorry, Bimet stole my phone UnU

Eligos: I'll just add Paimon and Orias here

_Paimon and Orias got added to the group chat_

Dantalian: Orias's a little bitch

Orias: And who might I have the pleasure of being insulted by?

Dantalian: ELIGOS WHY ARE THERE RANDOM PEOPLE IN THE GROUP CHAT!

Paimon: Hiiiiii, your highness Dantaliaaaaaaan

Dantalian: Paimon as well!

Eligos: You should get to know them as well since they all contribute to my newer collections

Orias: Dantalian? Don't you remember me sweetie? We used to hang out when you were younger?

Dantalian: I have never heard of you in my whole life

Orias: :)

Paimon: So, your highnesssss! I heard you're going to your first balllll

Dantalian: It's a sort of very formal festival

Dantalian: And we can't wear my usual attire

Dantalian: To understand how bad it is, my dad took out the 17th century suit ToT

Dantalian: Imagine being alive during the 17th century

Orias: ...

Paimon: What colour would you like the costume to beeeee?

Dantalian: Red, duh

Orias: I have the red costume at my place. It needed a bit of sewing and adding some extra ditails

Dantalian: Eligos, why could you take care of it?

Eligos: I've used all of the angel feathers in Tartaros for a new dress for MC.

Orias: And I have plentiful

Paimon: And Orias stole iiiiit

Orias: You're so funny Paimon.

Orias: Little ol me, going around stealing? Never

Dantalian: Wait, arent you the guy that tried to kill Leviathan!?

Orias: I have no idea what you're talking about

Dantalian: And everyone in Hades haaaaaates you. They would sometimes complain to me whenever you arrived back in the country

Orias: Your memory must be quite faulty. Everyone in Hades loves me

Dantalian: Except 99% of the population

Orias: You're so lucky you're part of the monarchy

Dantalian: Why? Come kill me right now, dipshit. What, are you too scared? Give me all you got

Orias: Now you're just asking for it

Dantalian: Orias don't you fucking there show up or I'm snitching you - King Asmodeus

Dantalian: Please sent the suit at the adress of the castle of Abaddon and make sure it is in pristine condition. Eligos, I already sent the money for it. Please stop contacting my son, he's grounded. - King Asmodeus

*This chat was terminated*

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Wow, that is an amazing summery of the pregnancy to Megxit timeline. Thank you so much. 💓 

As always, I'm interested in the media around each event and as you laid it out, my mind remembered what was being reported, true or untrue or speculation vs manifesting.

And thinking of the sheer volume of media running throughout that timeline, I'm less surprised the UK media ( and some USA media) want the Sussexes back. Their need for drama, played out in public, plus Sunshine sachs astroturfing the media with their bazillion articles everyday kept the media paid and busy.

During this period, I remember personally feeling as besieged as my first year working after I left university. My first job that year was an internship in a PR firm and my job was to collect and read all the daily newspapers and watch morning news until 9.30am when the feelgood morning shows took over. I only watched the morning shows if we had a client / newsstory / rivals were on. 

I had to prepare a mid-morning briefing for my boss and create a press file of our clients' media.

What I came to notice was just how much royal media was pumped out everyday, but that the Diana media was a tsunami and I began to see that most of it was generated by her and felt like a combo of stunt Queen drama she created which the media loved. A year of this and I felt Diana poisoned. 

Fast forward to the Sussexes and the year you've described and I felt the same way about it. I'm no longer in PR, but I've kept that habit of keeping up with all the daily news and that Sussex year was a tsunami just like Diana.

It was a relief when they Megxited - they had a final year of tsunami media until Sunshine sachs ditched them, but it wasn't as intense as the year you've described. 

I imagine the strain the family must have been under because they were in the direct path of hurricane Sussex. They must have felt so besieged the entire time if a stranger like me felt the strain while being just as observer with ability to turn it off if I chose. 

No wonder they all look much more relaxed since the Sussexes megxited. And we should all thank our stars that the Sussexes can no longer afford Sunshine Sachs because it's stopped the tsunami of daily media ( a Sunshine Sachs MO).

Ps: if you doubt how Sunshine Sachs operates, ask yourself why JLO has been in the media everyday for the past 20yrs when she's not producing hit records, films or brand sponsorships. Most celebrities hire them for a limited period usually when selling something, but JLO hired them to keep her front and centre at all times. And Markle followed suit until she couldn't afford them anymore. 

[minniethemoocherda]

Washing Machine Heart

A/N: This is set after my previous Morpherine fic "Can I Lay by Your Side?" but you should be able to read this as a stand alone. Tried something different here by doing Logan's POV instead which was a challenge but I hope you guys liked it! Thank you so much for everyone's likes, reblogs and comments on my last two Morpherine fics! I am so happy I am not the only one craving for more about these two! I don't know if I will have time to upload another Morpherine fic for a while because I am busy with IRL stuff and this other big fic I've got going on rn. But if the inspiration hits again then I will ride it! Xxxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

Logan hated galas. He hated stuffy rooms full of rich arseholes and stupid social conventions and food that wasn't actually designed to make you full. But since the event was a fundraiser to help support mutant kids, he didn't have a choice in not going to this one.

Logan had tried to argue that his costume counted as a suit, but Jean had threatened to force him change if he didn't do it himself.

So reluctantly he had on an old scratchy black and white suit. He was currently waiting in the hall with the other guys whilst the girls and Morph finished getting ready and if Scott didn't stop telling him how to tie his tie, then he was going to strangle him with it.

"How do I look?"

Focused on trying to not kill Cyclops, Logan hadn't noticed that the other's had arrived until he heard Morph's voice from behind him.

Logan turned around only to find the breath punched out of him.

Ever since Morph had come out a few months ago, (some that Logan had been completely accepting of it because he had been around for over a hundred years and Morph was far from the person he'd met who was like that) they'd said that they wanted to experiment more with their clothing.

However, whilst Logan had seen Morph in a suit, outside when they'd shift into a female mutants costume, he hadn't seen them wearing much feminine clothing yet

Until today.

Leaning against the end of the banister, Morph was wearing a long red dress, pretty similar to the one in that film they'd watched with how it hugged their body before flaring out at the bottom. Their chest was still relativity flat in their usual form, but the low cut of the dress, enhanced what was there. Logan felt that animalistic nature inside of him growl with want.

Which was new.

Logan recognised the feeling of wanting to hang out with Morph, to protect them, to hear them laugh. But that was a different kind of want... right?

Distracted by their thoughts, Logan hadn't realised that he had never actually replied until he heard Morph let out a nervous laugh.

"Don't tell me, my clutch doesn't match?" Morph said, gesturing to the small white bag in their other hand that Logan honestly hadn't even noticed.

"It's fine." Logan replied, not that he was any authority on fashion. "You look good."

"I know." Morph smiled, striking an over the top pose, but with his enhanced senses, Logan could pick out the blush under their friend's grey skin.

"However, I wish I could say the same for you." Morph teased, pointing at the tangled mess of Logan's tie.

Before Logan could grumble a protest, Morph tucked their bag under their arm and leant forward to fix it themselves.

Logan found himself frozen as impossibly smooth hands, brushed against his neck as Morph fixed his tie. Logan was not one for physical touch, he couldn't remember the last time another person had touched somewhere as vulnerable as his neck, one of the few places on his body that if too badly damaged would be an injury he couldn't walk away from. But he found himself completely trusting under Morph's gentle hands.

This close, Logan could feel the overwhelming smell of whatever perfume Morph had doused themselves in. Logan was sure that it objectively smelled nice. But it his over sensitive nose, it just smelt of chemicals. He preferred Morph's normal smell because it mean that he knew that his friend was still alive.

He could also hear the slightly quickened pace of Morph's pulse, that appeared to beat faster with every moment.

"There," Morph smiled as they finally smoothed out his collar over the newly fixed tie. "Now you shouldn't get us kicked out for looking like a savage again."

Morph took a step back, probably to admire their handiwork, but before Logan even realised what he was doing, he had reached out to grab their hand to keep them still touching.

Thankfully, Morph didn't seem offended, just confused by the action.

Logan shook his head. He didn’t know why he'd just done that. The chemicals from that perfume must've messed with his head.

He corrected himself, dropping his hands before offering out an arm like he'd seen them do in that movie.

He watched as Morph blinked for a second, as though not entirely believing what they were seeing, before a devious grin spread across their face.

"Oh my dear Wolverine, I thought you'd never ask!" They cried, a hand clutched dramatically over their heart as though this was all some big joke.

"Are ya gonna take it or what?" Logan grumbled, for some reason feeling suddenly annoyed.

Rolling their eyes, Morph placed their bag in one hand and looped the other through Logan's arm.

"I bet I can down more free drinks than you can." They faux whispered into his ear, their breath sending shivers down his spine.

"You're gonna loose that bet bub." Logan retorted, falling back into their usual banter after whatever the fuck had just happened.

After a few last minute toilet trips and loosing an argument with Jubilee about her dress being too short, they all piled into the limo waiting outside.

It was a cramped fit for all of them. The low ceilings, darkened windows and close quarters reminded Logan of when he was trapped in that damn cage.

Hunched in the back corner, the other's hadn't noticed his agitation, too busy arguing over whether Jubilee could try any of the free champagne.

All except for Morph, who stroked their hand down his arm and kept up a continuous chatter for the car ride, tethering him to this reality.

Thankfully it was a quick drive to Town Hall where the gala was being held.

Unfortunately, word must've spread about the fundraiser, because the Town Hall was swarmed by a bunch of anti-mutant protestors.

Even out of costume, their group was pretty recognisable and suddenly most of the abuse was getting hurled at them.

Security was doing a decent job keeping the crown contained behind barriers, but there wasn't much they could do to contain to hurtful jabs thrown their way.

Morph faltered on the steps, their sudden stop nearly tripping Logan over.

"Do I really look okay?" They asked, clutching onto his arm even tighter.

"You're a knock-out." Logan replied in honesty. "And if anyone says otherwise, I'll stab them."

Morph snorted.

"I don't think Summer's will be impressed if you cause another international incident."

"Then I'll shove my claws up his ass too."

Logan couldn't help the swell of satisfaction at the sound of Morph's signature cackle.

As the others headed inside, Logan paused at the top of the stairs.

He had fought mad scientists, sentinals and Sinister. Going to some fancy party filled with rich people should not feel like going into battle. Yet it did.

Morph squeezed his arm and Logan glanced up to see that familiar determined smile gazing down at him and Logan couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

Because as always the two of them had each other's back. And whatever battle was waiting for them on the other side of those doors, they would face it together.

[novlr]

Hello! Do you have any advice for indecisiveness when creating characters? I don't have much trouble with creating conflict, but figuring out my characters is difficult. I'm working on a character-driven story, and I have an internal conflict, I'm just not sure how the story will manifest. The worst part is I can't even find advice online because all character advice is about character development, making your characters complex, etc.... My problem is I don't know what my character is doing. I'm talking about their occupation. Student? Corporate job? Architect? Artist? My conflict is good to go but now I'm stuck here...

As a writer, creating characters who are believable and relatable is one of the most crucial aspects of storytelling. However, many writers struggle with indecisiveness when it comes to creating their characters, especially when it comes to their occupations and how their stories will manifest.

You get to mould your characters into whatever form you like, but it’s easy to suffer from choice paralysis when you’re confronted with the entirety of human experience, both real and imagined. The good news is, if you already know your story conflict, then you can actually narrow down and be a bit more targeted in how you go about creating characters.

Start with the basics

When creating a character, it’s essential to start with the basics. This includes their name, age, gender, physical appearance, and personality traits. These fundamental elements will serve as the foundation for your character and help you build upon them as you develop their story. Come up with these by asking yourself a series of questions with your story conflict and theme firmly in your mind.

Name: Choose a name that fits your character’s personality and background. Consider their age, culture, and the time period in which your story takes place. And don’t be afraid to use a random name generator or even a placeholder—there’s always a chance to change your mind in the editing phases.

Age: Determine your character’s age by how it influences their behaviour, beliefs, and experiences. Would an older or a younger characters respond to their conflict differently? And which better suites the story you want to tell?

Gender: Decide on your character’s gender and how it shapes their identity and interactions with others. Will your story’s conflict play out differently if your character’s gender expression were reversed, or if they were non-binary?

Physical appearance: Describe your character’s physical features, such as their height, weight, hair colour, and any distinguishing characteristics. Unfortunately there’s no easy way to do that. You just have to use your imagination and commit.

Personality traits: Identify your character’s key personality traits, such as their strengths, weaknesses, fears, and desires. These should relate to your character’s goal and conflict in some way.

Explore their background

Once you have a basic understanding of your character, it’s time to delve into their background. This includes their family history, upbringing, education, and any significant life events that have shaped who they are. Their background can feed directly into the conflict, as it can be a great source of pressure for how your plot develops.

Family history: Explore your character’s relationships with their family members, or how not having a family unit around them affects them as a person. Consider how their family dynamics have influenced their beliefs, values, and behaviours and how this can feed into their internal and external conflicts.

Upbringing: Determine where your character grew up and how their environment has shaped their worldview. Did they have a happy childhood, or did they face challenges and adversity? Did this affect their career choices?

Education: Decide on your character’s level of education and how it has impacted their career opportunities and whether it feeds into their internal conflict.

Significant life events: Identify any pivotal moments in your character’s life that have had a lasting impact on their personality and behaviour. Do they have any direct or indirect relationship with your story’s conflict and theme?

Determine their occupation

One of the most challenging aspects of creating characters is deciding on their occupation. This is especially true for writers who are working on character-driven stories and have a clear internal conflict but are unsure how the story will take shape. So how can we make that easier?

Consider their skills and interests: What is your character naturally good at? What do they enjoy doing? Their occupation should align with their skills and interests.

Think about their personality: How does your character’s personality influence their career choices? Are they ambitious and driven, or are they more laid-back and content with a simple life?

Explore their background: How has your character’s upbringing and education influenced their career path? Did they follow in their family’s footsteps, or did they forge their own path? Did they overcome adversity to reach where they are now, or were they barred from certain opportunities because of an educational, physical, or social handicap?

Consider the story’s themes: How does your character’s occupation tie into the overall themes and message of your story? Can their job serve as a metaphor or symbol for something deeper?

Connect the dots

Once you have a clear understanding of your character’s basics, background, and occupation, it’s time to connect the dots and see how these elements influence their internal conflict and the conflict and theme of the overall story.

Identify the internal conflict: What is your character struggling with internally? Is it a moral dilemma, a personal struggle, or a conflict between their desires and responsibilities?

Explore how their background influences the conflict: How has your character’s upbringing, family history, and significant life events contributed to their internal conflict?

Consider how their occupation ties into the conflict: Does your character’s job create additional challenges or pressures that exacerbate their internal conflict?

Think about how the conflict will manifest in the story: How will your character’s internal struggle play out in the plot? Will they face external challenges that force them to confront their internal conflict?

In summary

Creating compelling characters is a crucial aspect of storytelling, but it can be challenging for writers who struggle with indecisiveness. By starting with the basics, exploring your character’s background, determining their occupation, and connecting the dots between these elements and both their internal and the story conflict, you’ll be well on your way to creating characters that will bring your stories to life.

Remember, character creation is a process, and it’s okay to take your time and explore different options until you find what works best for your story. Don’t be afraid to experiment and make changes as you go along. With practice and persistence, you’ll become more confident in your ability to create compelling characters that resonate with readers

[duskrosecreatesstuff]

The Hedge Maze Thing ...

... is finally ready, and just in time to slip in to #HalsinTavWeek in a perfect spot between Day #4 (Magical Mishap) and Day #5 (Bondage). As before, inspiration for this came from this beautiful image, and a wild conversation with @pedros-immaculate-vibes

Garden Party

Halsin and his "little fox" are attending a prestigious masquerade event. As the evening starts to slow down, she suggests they slip away for some "alternative" entertainment.

Pairing: Halsin / Tav

Content warnings: Explicit smut, Outdoor sex, (Very) Light Bondage, Soft Dom Halsin, Orgasm delay, PiV sex.

Word count: 3.5k

Read on AO3

Taglist: @thoughts-of-bear @clairetheflower @sensitivesoil1008

Halsin moved through the crowd with ease, using his size to his advantage, parting the clusters of masked party goers still lingering between the flowerbeds.  He moved with purpose, but not too quickly; he still took the time to return a nod here, a word there, cautious to stay blended in with the attendees of this masquerade party.  The last thing either of them needed was to draw attention; after all, they weren’t here as true guests, they were here as representatives of the local wildlife agency, ostensibly to help ensure the event went smoothly, in reality to sneak a careful word here and there in the right ears, and secure their funding for the next year.

How had she snuck through so quickly?  Her choice of a fox mask for this charity event seemed quite appropriate, Although he had chosen a bear, so he didn’t get to judge. His nostrils flared as he neared the roped off entrance to the hedge maze, and caught her scent; her perfume mingled with the bouquet of the sparkling wine she had been sneaking the occasional glass of.  A perk of the evening, she had decided.  As the event had drawn on, he had noticed the sparkle of the wine touch her eyes, perhaps she had helped herself to one too many?  Or perhaps she simply had a devilish idea.

The latter, as it turned out.  She had noticed him standing off to one side, surveying the elite of the local councils and such from behind his bear mask.  He hadn’t missed her sidling up to him, her movements and the smile on her face suited to her delicate fox mask.  

“There you are.  I wanted to see if you might be up for a little fun.”

“Such as?” he murmured quietly, for her ears only.

“I thought you might like to try the hedge maze with me.” She tilted her head to look up at him, her smile and the hint of a raised eyebrow behind her mask suggesting she had more on her mind than a gentle walk through the raised bushes.

“We’ve both been through there before.”

“Yes.  But-” she brought her lips close to his ear, as much to brush them against it, as to ensure her next words were for him alone. “-what if we made it a little game.  I’ll go in, you give me … shall we say …  five minutes head start? And then you follow.  If you catch me before I get to the centre, you win.”

“And what would be my prize, little fox?”

She nipped gently at his ear, as she pressed her body in close to his. “I imagine my bear would love to devour his prey, wouldn’t he?” she whispered.

He gave a low moan, and glanced down at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes.  “Two.”

“Two?”

“You get two minutes.  Not five.  Now go.”

*****

Her eyes had gone wide at the time reduction, and he had given her ass a quick swat to encourage her to run.  She had yelped at the sting of it, then giggled as she turned to leave.  Halsin took a deep breath as he watched her go, that giggle echoing in his ears, the skirts of her dress bouncing as she stepped quickly through the throng of people.  It was going to be a long two minutes.

*****

He paused at the entrance to the maze, taking a cautious look around before slipping past the velvet rope barrier. It cost him precious seconds, but he knew once he was out of sight, he had the advantage.  Not only had he done this maze in the past, he had her scent to follow.  He passed between the stone columns of the entrance, and vanished into the shadows.

Straight on, make a right, then a left turn here, left again there.  Right again at that crossing.  He navigated the soft paths with ease and a speed that most would find surprising given his size.  He paused only briefly to scent the air, certain he would find her in time.  Until the flutter of silk and ribbons caught his attention, and he paused to grab the pretty fabric from the branch it was hanging from.  He’d seen this before.  A few hours earlier.

*****

They had laid out their chosen outfits for the evening on the bed. A deep green shirt and simple black dress trousers for him.  An off-the-shoulder dress of pale green velvet with silver leaves embroidered on it for her.  And their masks; his, a bear painted on soft leather, hers, a beaded filigree mask in the shape of a fox, with green crystals accenting the eye holes.

She had come out from the bathroom dressed in the matching set of pink undergarments, everything designed to draw his eye, and yet conceal everything from him.  A lightweight corset, with ribbons lacing the front to snugly mould against her body.  A pretty little garter belt, with delicate straps holding up lace topped stockings.  And the final piece, a whisper of silken fabric between her thighs, held in place with ribbons tied into neat bows over her hips.

He stared unabashedly as she covered the vision with her dress.  He couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted to grab those ribbons in his teeth and pull.  One thing was sure, he was going to have fun with those later, he had promised himself.

And now, she was missing that key piece.  And not only that, she’d denied him the pleasure of removing it himself.  He growled to himself at her audacity.  And again, louder, as he realised he had fallen for the distraction.  Clever little vixen.  He took a deep breath, and felt a rush of arousal as he noticed the extra note to her scent now.  He stuffed the underwear into his pocket and resumed the chase, all the more determined to win now.

He neared the last turn before the central area, and noticed her scent went down the wrong path.  Had she forgotten the way?  Or had that wine gone to her head a little?  No matter.  He had her.  He grinned wickedly as he took the correct path, and made it to the small clearing, the bronze statue of a young owlbear that marked the centre shining in the moonlight.  Its beak was brighter than the rest, where countless hands had touched it, marking their success in achieving the centre of the maze.  He settled himself on the stone bench in front of the statue, and pulled off his mask, resting it against the owlbear’s paw.

He didn’t have to wait long.  She ran through the leafy arch, skidding to a stop when she saw him reclining on the bench. 

“Fuck!” She swore, panting.

“Oh, I intend to, my pretty little thing.”  His voice was low but carried perfectly well to her ears. “Lose your way?”

“No!” she said indignantly.  She huffed. “I tripped as I cast Misty Step, it sent me off course.” she admitted, sheepishly.  He laughed, a deep, low rumble.

“So you did lose your way.  And … I think you lost more than that.”  He pulled his hand out of his pocket, revealing the prize he had tucked in there, the pretty item he had plucked from the branch.

She smiled at him coyly. “But the deal was you had to catch me before I got to the centre.  So I win.”

“But you’re not at the centre.” he countered, reaching his hand up to touch the beak of the owlbear statue.  “You know as well as I do, this is the centre.  You’re not there yet.”  He stood up, clearly meaning to block her from it, and fixed her with a predatory smile.  “But you’re welcome to try.”

Her eyes darted around, quickly assessing her options.  The space was not large, but offered just enough space for her to dodge around him.  If she was fast enough.  Misty Step was exhausted until she rested. So cunning it would have to be.  She feinted to her left, watching for him to follow her movement, then leaped to the right, reaching to touch the statue as she jumped.

He was expecting her trick.  And she leaped right into his arms.

They wrapped around her, trapping her, unexpectedly graceful in the way he spun her away from the statue, putting it out of her reach.  He brought them to a stop facing the statue, his hands on her hips, and he pulled her roughly back against him.

“Did you really think that would work?” he laughed,  his lips brushing against her neck.  “No matter.  I win.”

She shivered, breathless for a whole other reason now.  She could feel the growing bulge behind her, as his hands drifted up over her body, brushing over the curve of her breasts, up to her bare shoulders, and then slowly down her arms.  As he reached her wrists, he gripped them both, tugging them behind her, pinning them together with one hand, as the other reached to his pocket.  She felt ribbons being wrapped around her wrists, binding them together.

“I had planned to enjoy taking these off you later.  And you’ve denied me that.  So I’m going to use them to enjoy you another way”

The ends of the ribbons brushed against her palms, and she grabbed at them reflexively. He noticed, and leaned in to nip at her ear.

“Behave.” His voice was a soft growl. “If you pull on those, if you try to free yourself, I'll stop. I’ll stop everything I’m doing to you, and I will leave you wanting.”

She shivered at his commanding tone, but obediently opened her hands to let the ribbons drop.

“Good girl.”  He gently nudged her towards the bench in front of the statue.

“Now,” he stepped in close behind her again, and tugged at the laces that held her mask.  “I don’t want to ruin this.” He took the delicate mask in both hands, and lifted it carefully off her head, reaching forward to place it with his on the statue. “But I do plan on ruining you.”

He spun her to face him, his hands on her shoulders again, and he moved in to kiss her greedily, his tongue demanding entrance that she willingly gave.  His hands trailed back down her body, pausing to cup and squeeze at her breasts, pinching at the hardening nipples, which he could feel poking through, despite the layers of fabric, and she moaned in response.

He moved his hands farther down, to her waist, and he pressed down on her hips, guiding her to sit on the stone bench, keeping close enough to her body to force her knees apart to accommodate him.  He lowered himself to kneel in front of her, and his hands continued their path down, across her thighs, down her calves, to the hem of her skirts.  She gasped, tilting her head down to look at him, as he worked his hands beneath the fabric.  He looked and caught her eye, holding her gaze as he trailed fingertips back up over her stockinged legs, pausing when he reached the lace tops, stopping himself from touching the bare skin at the tops of her thighs.  He caught her leaning back a little, pressing her hips forward for him.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you tonight?”

“Please.” she whispered, feeling the start of an ache in her core, and ache that his touch would relieve.

“Please, what?”

She groaned. “Please touch me.”

She whined as he pulled his hands away completely, but only to gather up her skirts and lift them up to rest around her waist, careful not to touch her bare skin.  He put a hand on each knee, and pressed gently, spreading her open. With her legs this wide apart, he admired the way the moonlight glistened on the moisture already seeping from between her folds.

“Already dripping for me, my love?  I might think you wanted to lose.”

“I wanted to win.” she protested, her breath coming in soft pants.

“Really.” his disbelief clear.  “And instead, you’re all mine.” He brushed his thumbs over the exposed skin of her thighs, and watched the muscles jump at his touch. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” He ran his fingers across her thighs, around to her hips, further back to the plush curves of her ass, digging his fingers into the soft flesh, as he dipped his head to kiss the top of one stocking, then the other.  Then a kiss to one bare thigh, then the other.  She whimpered, arching her hips up to him again.  She could feel his lips curl into a smile.

“So desperate already, my heart?  And I haven’t even reached your favourite spot.  Yet.”

Another kiss, higher still, his nose nudging at the apex of her thighs, breathing in that scent he’d been tracing through the maze. She moaned, writhing her hips in invitation, wordlessly begging for him to give her more.  He pulled his head away for a moment, watching her desperate movements.  But only for a moment, as he admitted to himself how much he wanted to taste her, to take that dripping nectar on his tongue.  He bent his head back down, licking slowly up her slit, spreading her folds apart with his skilled tongue, dipping between them as his nose brushed against her clit.

She let her head fall back as she whined, arching her back to press her hips up to him, a desperate invitation to give her more.  He moved his hands to lightly hold her hips, keeping her still as he pressed his tongue inside her, the taste of her filling his mouth.  He listened to her gasp as he moved his tongue, lapping deeply.

“Halsin … please,” she whispered, and he knew what she wanted.  He slid one hand from her hip, his thumb moving to press circles over her slick, swollen clit.  He could feel the quiver in her thighs, could hear her breath growing ragged, knew he had brought her right to the edge, and knew she wanted nothing more than for him to tip her over it.  Usually, he’d also love nothing more.  But tonight …

He pulled back, and looked up, licking his lips as he listened to her keening moan when she realised he was going to deny her.

“Please!” she gasped, her voice a high pitched whisper.

“Need something?” he asked, his tone feigning curiosity.

“Please,” she begged between gasps, “I need … I want … let me …”

He smiled wickedly at her inability to string a sentence together.  Of course he knew exactly what she wanted, but he wasn’t going to let her have it, not just yet.  Instead he stood up, and she could see the clear, hard outline of his cock right in front of her.  She leaned forward to grab the fastening of his trousers with her teeth, working to release the fabric.  He paused, grinning down at her - he’d indulge her for a moment or two.  She was going to struggle to achieve her goal, and the friction of the fabric as she tugged it back and forth felt good to his swollen self.

She succeeded in opening the button, and worked to open his trousers further, a small growl of frustration vibrating against him, and he gave a low moan of his own, which only served to increase her determination.  Hells, she wished her hands were free, she wanted to push the fabric out her way so badly, but she knew he’d keep his threat, so kept them obediently behind her.

“Let me help you, my little love.”  he offered, releasing himself from the confines of his clothing and she wasted no time in moving her head in close, breathing in that scent of herbs and musk that was so uniquely him.  She reached her tongue out to lick his exposed length, her own aching frustration momentarily forgotten, pressing her tongue flat to taste as much of him as she could, brushing her lips over the smooth skin, swirling her tongue over him, tasting the salt of his pre-cum as it beaded from the tip.

He threaded the fingers of one hand into her hair, and pulled her head back, forcing her to release him from her mouth.  She looked up at him with a whimper.  With his other hand, he scooped up her thigh, and pushed, pivoting her on her ass so she was sideways on the bench.  He knelt between her thighs, reaching behind her to tug the ribbons loose, releasing her wrists.  He placed his hands on her upper arms, guiding her to lay back on the bench, as he loomed up over her, the stone cool and rough against her bare shoulders.  He slid his hands down to her wrists, lifting them up above her head, and looped the ribbons over the armrest and back around her wrists.

She looked up into his lovely hazel eyes, unsure if the spark she saw was a reflection of the light, or that flash of gold he sometimes got when his control was on its edge.  She didn’t have time to figure it out, as he tied the knots again, and leaned in to kiss her, hungrily, greedily pressing his tongue to her lips, which she parted willingly, desperate for any contact with him. He moved a hand quickly down her body, fingers quickly finding her soaked entrance, and sliding a single one inside her, feeling her sigh against his mouth.  He added a second finger, his movements slow as he slid them in and out of her, letting her adjust to the stretch of him, preparing her, feeling her soft moans against his tongue.

He pulled his hand away, using his wet fingers to stroke his cock, spreading her juices over himself, mixing with more of his pre-cum.  He guided himself to line up with her entrance, and pressed slowly inside her, pausing once the head of his cock was nestled within her soft walls.

She wanted so badly to reach for his hips, and pull him deeply into her, but she didn’t dare risk being denied her reward, not when she was so close.  So she settled for arching her back, trying desperately to buck her hips up and force him deeper.

He lifted himself away from kissing her, pausing for a moment to admire her laying there in the moonlight, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving as her breath came in small pants.  He reached around her hips to lift her slightly. He smiled down at her, lovingly.

“More?”

“Please” she whispered breathlessly.

He lifted her a little further into his lap, sliding deeper into her, as she cried out in pleasure.  His fingers dug into her soft curves to hold her steady as he started a slow rhythm, barely giving her time to adjust to the stretch of him filling her, listening to her soft moans at each roll of his hips.  He knew that since he brought her so close to the edge already, that it wasn’t going to take much to have her seeing stars beneath him.

“My pretty little thing, you feel so good.” Her hips bucked up at the praise, her hands tugging at her ties, grasping at air, but still obedient, not pulling herself free.  He rewarded her by increasing his pace, driving harder into her, his cock pulsing as her moans changed to frantic whimpering, her body responding to the pounding, her climax within her reach once more.  He moved a hand to brush a thumb over her clit, watched her jaw clench as she hissed through her teeth.

“Let go, my little fox.  Scream for me.”

She gave a high pitched growl as she came, her body tensing beneath him, her back arching up and her legs wrapping tightly around his waist, as if she wanted nothing else than to merge her body with his completely.  He felt her walls clench around him, a steady pulse as he continued to move deep inside her, his movements rougher as he chased his own climax.  A few more thrusts and he let loose a deep growl, as his throbbing cock pumped his seed deep inside her.  He leaned down to kiss her, her tongue eager to taste him as her body quivered in the cool night air. He reached up to pull the ribbons loose, tucking the scrap of fabric back into his pocket.  She immediately reached to wrap her arms around him, and pulled him in close against her, as their breathing slowed.

Their moment of afterglow was disturbed by a couple of loud bangs, and glittering sparks lit up the night sky.  She smiled at the sight.

“I think I already saw my own fireworks.”

Halsin grinned at her.  “We should get back though, the party is almost at an end.”

She laughed.  “Perhaps a slower walk back.  Not sure my legs could take another race.”

“Good.”

[potassiumivy]

PLAYBOY. | jjk

❥ mdni. fic masterlist.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 009: BILLS, BILLS, BILLS.

✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞

YOU WERE SITTING ON A HIGH CHAIR, your eyes closed as two makeup artists took their time applying your eyeshadow. 

the runway was moments away from starting. the designers and the event planners were frantic, shouting orders here and there while the other models ran from side to side. 

"good think we came prepared, huh?" shiu said, leaning against the vanity table. 

"mhm." 

he raised an eyebrow at your lack of interest. "did something happen?"

you visibly grew a little upset, but tried to avoid moving too much. 

you didn't want to ruin your makeup. 

not yet.

"they didn't let us back in the dorms. kinji and kirara tried to get there before me, and they both got kicked out by the higher ups. we'll have to go back next week. i'm worried about them now that i'm far away." 

you were always so sweet, sweeter than a chocolate-dipped strawberry. 

and shiu? shiu was an opportunist—he could smell the benjamins from miles away. good thing he liked his money dirty, and his cash liquid. 

he discreetly shooed your makeup artists away, approaching you slowly like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"don't be so sad, alright?" he started with a soft voice, dragging his thumb on your bottom lip. "i promise you that they're fine."

his other hand played with a strand of your hair before he tucked it behind your ear. "what about we make a deal to get your mind away from this mess, hmm?" his voice was lower than before. 

shiu knew that he got you exactly where he wanted when you looked up at him through your lashes, batting them slowly. you didn't respond, but the curiosity in your eyes told him that you were hooked. 

"go on the runway and get me two articles."

you looked dazed, confused by the request. he chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly. 

he raised his ring and middle fingers, "if you manage to have two articles written about you, i'll get you anything you want."

you stared at his fingers, your mouth slightly agape. shiu's grin widened at that. 

you got up, patting the tight skirt of the lingerie set you were wearing. the show was about to start. 

"any preference?" you asked, and shiu shot you a quizzical look.

you smiled, biting your cheek before clarifying. "what magazines?" 

shiu's pants felt tighter. "vogue and harper's bazaar."

you pouted are that your eyes turning glossy. "but i can't promise you that, shiu!"

"why?" a smirk grew on his lips, "you don't think you could do it?"

"no, i can't do two." you admitted, your shoulders slumping. 

you immediately ran when your heard the designer calling your name. before getting on the stage, you turned back to shiu. 

"i'll do three."

"huh?"

"three is my lucky number." you smiled widely. 

"also, i'm more of a cosmopolitan girl."

you winked at him, turning on your heel before getting on the runway. 

article or not, he knew he'll be your little toy from now on.

*✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:

✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞

*✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:

the moment you came backstage with a huge smile on your face, he knew you secured your part of the deal. he didn't even need to check— he clearly heard the sound of cameras flashing intensifying the moment you set your foot on stage. 

"shit, i knew you could do it." his arms snaked around your waist, rubbing circles on your skin. "so tell me what you want," he rested his forehead on your shoulder, "and it'll be yours."

you tapped a finger on your cheek, deep in thought. your finger slid down from your face before resting on the pearls around your neck. 

"i want a new necklace," you announced, "shinier than the one i have."

he grabbed you, on the verge of dragging you to the nearest jewelry store before you yanked back on his arm. 

"but now, i just wanna sleep." you yawned, overwhelmed by the day's events.

"alright." he nodded his head slowly. he was an impatient man.

he drove back to the hotel, dropping you in your suite before making his way back to the store that caught his attention earlier. 

*✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:

✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞

*✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:

you just finished washing your face after your nap when you heard the door opening. getting out of the washroom, your eyes immediately met shiu's, who had a briefcase in each hand.

"what are in those?" you asked, but he ignored you. he dropped them on the floor before grabbing something from his pocket.

"close your eyes." he ordered, and you did.

you could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer as he circled around you. you felt his fingertips on your nape, unclasping your necklace. you opened your mouth to protest, but the cool feeling of metal suddenly replaced the familiar pearls. 

you tilted your head to smile at him before trying to look at your brand new necklace, but he held your chin in place. "don't look down." he breathed out, "it's a surprise."

then, he kissed you hard. 

you wasted no time kissing him back messily. you held the collar of his shirt as he kissed you slowly, your lips moving in sync with his just as hungrily. 

he bit your lower lip, then he suddenly pulled back even though it pained him to do so. he walked across the room, picking up the briefcases he left on the floor. your eyes widened when he walked towards your bed, emptying their content on the silk sheets. 

"can you guess how much money that it?" shiu asked, his eyes low. 

you stood there, stunned. your breathing was getting heavier, and you knew that you were slowly getting turned on. 

"300 k." you mumbled.

he chuckled as he threw his blazer on the floor, his tie following suit. "cmon angel, you're smarter than that." 

he slowly unbuttoned his white shirt, maintaining eye contact with you, "you know i wouldn't do all that for 300k." 

he threw you over his shoulder with his hand holding your thighs. you giggled at his eagerness as he dropped you on top of the mountain of cash.

he rolled the sleeves of his shirt, setting a knee on the bed before he crawled on top of you to leave a trail of opened-mouth kisses on your neck. 

you threw your head back, silent gasps leaving your swollen lips.

"it's 3 millions." he said in between kisses. "3 fucking millions. and i'll make you cum three times on top of them for the three big articles you managed to snatch."

he hastily undressed you, leaving you in your black lace underwear. "seems like a fair deal to me, no?" he asked before ripping your undergarments from you.

"that set was my favourite..." you whined, and shiu pecked your pouty lips. "i'll take you shopping tomorrow, okay?" 

"m'kay." you wouldn't kiss him back, turning your head to the side. 

shiu didn't mind your attitude—he knew you'll forget about it in a few minutes. his finger ran up and down your slit. "shit, angel, you're so wet for me." 

"don't get big headed now. it's not you, it's the money." 

he ignored you once again, choosing to tease your entrance instead, which made you let out a little moan. his middle and ring finger started to pump in and out of you slowly. 

when he heard you start panting a little, he sped up his movements. "this one's for vogue." he said, adding his thumb, feverishly rubbing your clit while he fingerfucked you. 

he was knuckle-deep inside you, hitting that same spot your pretty fingers rarely reached—you didn't want to tear yourself up with your manicured nails. good thing you had people doing this for you. 

you didn't hide your moans anymore, letting the man know how good he made you feel as you spread your legs even more for him. 

he looked down at your pussy, spreading your puffy lips with his free hand. he spat on it, making your eyes roll back. 

"so you're into nasty shit, huh?" he asked, taking his fingers out of you. only his thumb remained on your clit, applying enough pressure to make your mind hazy.

"no, no, put them back, shiu." you hiccuped, clawing at his forearm. 

"get on your knees." he hushed you, "i promise i'll put them right where they belong." 

you immediately complied, wanting the numbing pleasure to overtake you again. you got on your hands and knees, sticking your ass up. you looked back at him over your shoulder, your eyes begging him to do something, anything. 

he licked his lips, checking you out before grabbing your neck from behind. "not now sweetheart," he started, pulling you up so only your knees touched the mattress. "i want to make you cum on my fingers before fucking you stupid."

he pulled you towards himself, your back hitting his chest. you noticed that he took his white shirt off completely, only leaving him in his pants. still grabbing your throat, his fingers made their way back inside you roughly, regaining the same intensity as before. 

seeing you try to match the pace of his fingers made him crazy, as he groaned in your ear, fingering you even faster. you came on his fingers, and he kissed your cheek before getting up, finally undressing completely.

he carried you to the bathroom, gently putting you down, and your hands unconsciously gripped the counter. you saw him ripping a condom's wrapper with his teeth, putting it on his dick. 

"arch your back just like earlier, angel. fuck, yeah, just like that." he loved it when you followed his orders.

"harper's bazaar." was all he said before sliding his dick into you without warning, setting a fast pace from the beginning. 

the sound of skin echoed in the bathroom, the scent of sex filling the air. your were getting fucked so good that you forgot about your new necklace, even though it was swinging back and forth, slapping your breasts. 

"did you notice your pretty necklace?" he was breathless. "look in the mirror for me." he pulled your hair, making you look at yourself in the mirror. you came the moment you saw the golden cartier necklace around your neck, saying shiu's name over and over.

your clenching was too much for him— he gritted his teeth, his cum filling up the condom. "wait for me on the bed, i just have to throw this away."

you didn't wait for him. 

when he entered the bedroom, he saw you covered in dollar bills, giving all of your attention to your neglected clit. your moans were high-pitched as your hips wildly chased your orgasm.

opening your eyes, you looked straight at shiu. "three... oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. three is my lucky number." you gave him a dopey smile before focusing on yourself again. 

shiu couldn't even be mad at you. he didn't expect this, but he was beyond turned on, jerking off to the sight of you. he wanted to talk dirty to you, but his throat was dry. he felt like he wasn't even there with the way you played with yourself. 

your thighs were shaking so much and the slight rustling of all the money beneath you were enough to push you off the edge for a final time, as you came harder than you ever did. third time's a charm, right?

you were so sleepy, but you turned to look at shiu. he was so close to climax again. you could tell from the sweat dripping down his abs. 

you didn't say much before dozing off, but it was enough for shiu to have the best orgasm of his life.

"that one was for cosmopolitan."

✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞

next!!

©potassiumivy, 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate / modify / republish my works.

[shoyostar]

hi! a gentle reminder to please read my event rules before requesting for dear future husband </3

the requests i’ve receieved are lovely and i plan to write a lot of them, but many people keep requesting extremely long, detailed scenarios that… don’t really fit with the theme of the event!

i ask for a trope or general question about the couples, that’s all! i don’t need a super specific scenario synopsis bcs thats my job to write it out</3 and i feel like it limits my creativity with what i can write if its too confining!!

this event was for me to showcase some of the couples mundane life but most of the reqs i receive are like, not something i’d consider as part of my series:(

[littlecrittereli]

✨️how you draw so well, I'm IN LOVE with the story ✨️✨️✨️ how Chris looks exactly when he's out of control, could you doodle what he looks like :3 I LOVE your drawings <3✨️✨️

Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it! And ofc, I've been meaning to make some art about this...

In the Jaguar suit of cours, Diego has always been partial to cats.

To the outward gaze, he kinda just seems... zoned out. There are moments of clarity or recognition, but for the most part he almost doesn't react to much besides Diego's commands.

[nicollekidman]

well my reaction to this was. extremely undignified.

[elftwink]

one major difference i have found between service industry work (in my case food service but this is widely applicable to similar jobs) and other public-facing positions is that the job itself is often very similar because people is the same, it's just in service everyone approaches you already thinking they're right and you're a fucking idiot and its their god given right to disrespect you, where in other positions even if they are not nice to you they usually acknowledge that you know more than them on issues pertaining to your job. like the difference in behaviour from people who see you as serving them vs helping them is unreal. i am doing literally the exact same things. customer is always right mentality did irreparable damage to the fabric of society

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando and Fisi pictures that I like and enjoy a normal amount (pt. 1: 2005)

[goldicthehedgefox]

gotta say, Shallot looks great in Trunks's clothes

[caramellody]

Suite Life Au Ken and Akechi through the events of the first 3 seasons