#construction bond rights

[ariela-wagner-me]

Lock in Payment Plans like a Pro: 4 Expert Tips to Get Paid & Avoid Litigation in Florida

In construction, ensuring smooth and secure payments is crucial for the success and satisfaction of all parties involved in a project. To navigate this terrain effectively, here are four invaluable tips to consider.

[alteredsilicone]

Euleria picking up a lot of Loid's quirks is one of the things that feeds into Albrecht's self doubt.

[odinsblog]

🗣️THIS IS WHAT INCLUSIVE, COMPASSIONATE DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE

Minnesota Dems enacted a raft of laws to make the state a trans refuge, and ensure people receiving trans care here can't be reached by far-right governments in places like Florida and Texas. (link)

Minnesota Dems ensured that everyone, including undocumented immigrants, can get drivers' licenses. (link)

They made public college free for the majority of Minnesota families. (link)

Minnesota Dems dropped a billion dollars into a bevy of affordable housing programs, including by creating a new state housing voucher program. (link)

Minnesota Dems massively increased funding for the state's perpetually-underfunded public defenders, which lets more public defenders be hired and existing public defenders get a salary increase. (link)

Dems raised Minnesota education spending by 10%, or about 2.3 billion. (link)

Minnesota Dems created an energy standard for 100% carbon-free electricity by 2040. (link)

Minnesota already has some of the strongest election infrastructure (and highest voter participation) in the country, but the legislature just made it stronger, with automatic registration, preregistration for minors, and easier access to absentee ballots. (link)

Minnesota Dems expanded the publicly subsidized health insurance program to undocumented immigrants. This one's interesting because it's the sort of things Dems often balk at. The governor opposed it! The legislature rolled over him and passed it anyway. (link)

Minnesota Dems expanded background checks and enacted red-flag laws, passing gun safety measures that the GOP has thwarted for years. (link)

Minnesota Dems gave the state AG the power to block the huge healthcare mergers that have slowly gobbled up the state's medical system. (link)

Minnesota Dems restored voting rights to convicted felons as soon as they leave prison. (link)

Minnesota Dems made prison phone calls free. (link)

Minnesota Dems passed new wage protection rules for the construction industry, against industry resistance. (link)

Minnesota Dems created a new sales tax to fund bus and train lines, an enormous victory for the sustainability and quality of public transit. Transit be more pleasant to ride, more frequent, and have better shelters, along more lines. (link)

They passed strict new regulations on PFAS ("forever chemicals"). (link)

Minnesota Dems passed the largest bonding bill in state history! Funding improvements to parks, colleges, water infrastructure, bridges, etc. etc. etc. (link)

They're going to build a passenger train from the Twin Cities to Duluth. (link)

I can't even find a news story about it but there's tens of millions in funding for new BRT lines, too. (link)

A wonky-but-important change: Minnesota Dems indexed the state gas tax to inflation, effectively increasing the gas tax. (link)

They actually indexed a bunch of stuff to inflation, including the state's education funding formula, which helps ensure that school spending doesn't decline over time. (link)

Minnesota Dems made hourly school workers (e.g., bus drivers and paraprofessionals) eligible for unemployment during summer break, when they're not working or getting paid. (link)

Minnesota Dems passed a bunch of labor protections for teachers, including requiring school districts to negotiate class sizes as part of union contracts. (Yet another @SydneyJordanMN special here. (link)

Minnesota Dems created a state board to govern labor standards at nursing homes. (link)

Minnesota Dems created a Prescription Drug Affordability Board, which would set price caps for high-cost pharmaceuticals. (link)

Minnesota Dems created new worker protections for Amazon warehouse workers and refinery workers. (link)

Minnesota Dems passed a digital fair repair law, which requires electronics manufacturers to make tools and parts available so that consumers can repair their electronics rather than purchase new items. (link)

Minnesota Dems made Juneteenth a state holiday. (link)

Minnesota Dems banned conversion therapy. (link)

They spent nearly a billion dollars on a variety of environmental programs, from heat pumps to reforestation. (link)

Minnesota Dems expanded protections for pregnant and nursing workers - already in place for larger employers - to almost everyone in the state. (link)

Minnesota Dems created a new child tax credit that will cut child poverty by about a quarter. (link)

Minnesota Democrats dropped a quick $50 million into homelessness prevention programs. (link)

And because the small stuff didn't get lost in the big stuff, they passed a law to prevent catalytic converter thefts. (link)

Minnesota Dems increased child care assistance. (link)

Minnesota Dems banned "captive audience meetings," where employers force employees to watch anti-union presentations. (link)

No news story yet, but Minnesota Dems forced signal priority changes to Twin Cities transit. Right now the trains have to wait at intersections for cars, which, I can say from experience, is terrible. Soon that will change.

Minnesota Dems provided the largest increase to nursing home funding in state history. (link)

They also bumped up salaries for home health workers, to help address the shortage of in-home nurses. (link)

Minnesota Dems legalized drug paraphernalia, which allows social service providers to conduct needle exchanges and address substance abuse with reduced fear of incurring legal action. (link)

Minnesota Dems banned white supremacists and extremists from police forces, capped probation at 5 years for most crimes, improved clemency, and mostly banned no-knock warrants. (link)

Minnesota Dems also laid the groundwork for a public health insurance option. (link)

I’m happy for the people of Minnesota, but as a Floridian living under Ron DeSantis & hateful Republicans, I’m also very envious tbh. We know that democracy can work, and this is a shining example of what government could be like in the hands of legislators who actually care about helping people in need, and not pursuing the GOP’s “culture wars” and suppressing the votes of BIPOC, and inflicting maximum harm on those who aren’t cis/het, white, wealthy, Christian males. BRAVO MINNESOTA. This is how you do it! And the Minnesota Dems did it with a one seat majority, so no excuses. Forget about the next election and focus on doing as much good as you can, while you still can. 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿

👉🏿 https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1660846689450688514.html

[alyakthedorklord]

Batman the Playboy

Justice League, not quite early days but before proper identity reveals, though everyone knows Batman knows theirs, bc he has Opinions™ and Constructive Criticisms™ on their secret-keeping.

The issue is brought up on random occasions. The most notable incident- the Justice League, including Batman, being Drunk for Bonding, (or hit with some kind of drug while out saving the world) and Batman, in a fit of paranoid good intentions because he CARES about these idiots, damnit, why must they be so careless, starts insulting them.

Batman, leaning heavily on the table: “GL, you’re a mess, I don’t even know where to start with you. And Arrow! Your goatee is so distinctive, it’s a wonder no one has called you out on it-“

Green Arrow, also drunk: “Alright, there’s no need to insult my awesome facial hair-”

Batman, in despair: “It’s so ugly.”

Green Arrow: (offended noises)

Green Lantern: “Okay, the only reason you know our secret identities is because you’re a rude nosy bastard who needs to know everything about us like a creepy stalker who needs an ego boost! We’re not stupid, Spooky, we’re just polite. We could figure you out easily if we wanted to. Superman can see right through your mask!”

Usually, Batman would have a good response to that. Something smart and reasonable like “villains won’t care for your privacy, I’m testing you,” or something cutting like “I don’t care enough about you to go digging, I set your secret identity as a training exercise for Robin.”

However, Batman is Drunk, because for some reason imbibing drugs that dampen higher brain function is socially acceptable and often, for some reason, expected, because it’s “team bonding” and “come on just loosen up a bit.” (Also for him, drunk=Brucie)

So what Batman ends up saying is: “I could kiss you full on the lips in my secret identity and you wouldn’t know a thing.”

Superman, plucking the glass from Batman’s hand: “Aaaand that is enough alcohol for you!”

Batman nods. Thank God. He wants to go home and sleep. But first: “Superman, yours is so stupid it’s almost impressive-”

———

Of course, Green Lantern has smelled a challenge. And Green Lantern must annoy Batman. It’s his true superpower. So, the next time they meet (sober) he brings up the issue again.

GL: “So about what you said at the party… the part where you could kiss us full on the lips without us knowing. You still confident in that without liquid courage, Spooky? Bet you your real name you can’t do it.”

Batman, regretting the fact that alcohol has ever passed his lips: “I could do it, but I will not.”

Flash, curious: “Why’s that?”

Batman: “Informed Consent. I will not risk making any of you feel violated, or manipulated, for the sake of a stupid bet and my ego.”

GA, still offended by the goatee comment, trying to back Batman into a corner: “So if we give consent, we’re fair game? Try me, Batman. Even you can’t pull this off. Anyone else game?”

Some of the Justice League laughs, raising their hands.

Flash: “Come get me, hot stuff! I’ll call you out!”

Wonder Woman: “It could be amusing.”

Martian Manhunter: “I would be far too difficult a target.”

Green Arrow: “Not just you. C’mon, Spooky, flirting well enough to get a kiss from me? I’m a classy lady.”

Black Canary: “D-class, maybe.”

Superman, wants a kiss in on the fun: 🙋🏻‍♂️

“So that’s it then!” Green Lantern says smugly. “Batman, if you can kiss… how many people raised their hands? Ah yes- HALF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE, without anyone realizing it’s you, then you win.”

Batman scoffs and walks out, leaving the Justice League in stitches at their joke. Because- Batman? Being good enough at flirting to land a kiss on half the league, without it being forced or awkward, without them recognizing his body language, his voice, his build? How ridiculous!

The Batman is Autistic. The Batman does not understand jokes, especially not ones that are half truths. The Batman has consent, and something to prove.

And Bruce Wayne, billionaire, playboy, and sexy DILF, has targets.

(Please tell me how you think he gets each League member.)

Edit: there have been a bunch of awesome additions in the notes! My own take here.

[swordgrace]

𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘.

༺ aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS: in the aftermath of rook’s rest, you seek aemond out to inquire about his wellbeing. instead, you find him somewhere else — somewhere unexpected. (set after S2 EP4).

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — not requested.

༺ WORD COUNT: 5.2K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni) , spoilers for s2 ep4, public sex / risk of getting caught, knifeplay, imbalance of power, rough sex, darkish!aemond, dom!aemond, p in v sex (unprotected), oral (f!receiving), fingering, brief tiddy sucking, groping, biting / marking, hair pulling, choking, fucking right in front of the iron throne, inaccurate high valyrian, brief dirty talk, lots of aemond’s inner thoughts, breeding kink if you squint, aemond is extremely possessive of the reader to an unhealthy degree.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: to preface, I am working on requests, this just happened to make its way out of my brain before anything else did. This was inspired by the single shot of Aemond standing in front of the Iron Throne in the S2 EP5 trailer, you can tell how desperate I got as soon as I saw it. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! There will be a Jace fic dropping tomorrow, too! ❤️

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄 — a seat of power constructed by Aegon the Conqueror in the aftermath of a bloodied war, forged from thousands of surrendered swords.

In the days of Aegon the Conqueror, it was said that the Throne was sometimes too high to climb, a jagged labyrinth of blades melded by dragon’s fire, a throne fit for any ruler. Men impaled themselves upon one another’s blades for it, turned against one another, endless betrayals and treacheries ensued all for the sake of the endgame, to see themselves upon the Throne.

Brother turned against brother — you didn’t expect anything less from Aemond, whose desire to exact revenge boiled just beneath the surface. The Battle at Rook’s Rest had proved a slaughter on all fronts, between the decimation of both Cole’s armies and the castle they laid siege upon, to the death of the Princess Rhaenys and her dragon, Melys.

Whispers spread through the Red Keep in regards to King Aegon’s condition, bones crushed beneath the weight of Sunfyre, who plummeted from the skies in a ball of fire. His flesh was scorched, half of his body melded to the Valyrian Steel armor he wore, burnt beyond recognition.

If they were to be believed, King Aegon was gravely wounded — and if a fatality ensued, who would then bear the mantle of King?

A restless dusk gripped King’s Landing as the surviving soldiers from Cole’s armies arrived at the city gates, King Aegon amongst the wounded. In what you considered to be a mass panic and hysteria, Maesters rushed to diligently attend to their King, who seemed to be meeting a simmering grave inside of his armor — it would be his tomb if they weren’t careful.

Merely a handmaiden and servant to nobility, the antics of your masters didn’t interest you — you were wholly preoccupied with your own survival and self-preservation, amongst other things. It was said that Aemond and Vhagar had swarmed the battlefield and come to King Aegon’s defense, but by the time they had, Aegon had been swallowed by dragonfire.

Part of you had difficulty believing that Aemond truly attempted to save his elder brother, given Aemond’s embittered sentiments. Your relationship with the Prince had transcended all bonds of propriety — and if anyone were to find out, they would likely have your head for sullying his virtue.

Nevertheless, as chaos swarmed around you, you knew exactly who to seek out. Queen Alicent had little desire to be hounded by handmaidens while her eldest son struggled to hang onto his own life, something you could understand. Instead, you made for Aemond’s chambers, the route embedded into your mind.

You sought him — all of him. His lilac hue, a maelstrom of forlorn emotions, and his silvery tresses, like cascading silk, embedded themselves into your mind. His cunning countenance and beguiled expression were like hot-iron brands cast onto your thoughts, tormenting you with each waking moment.

As you stepped closer to the Throne Room, no longer guarded by Kingsguard, you saw the great door ajar — no King atop the throne. You wondered if he would live, Aegon — a drunken, broken man who preferred his cups and whores over ruling — or if he would perish.

You knew who would sit the Iron Throne, should Aegon fall.

A heavy darkness had befallen the throne room, fitting for the many tragedies, like the gloom of a shadow haunting all who dared to enter. Curiosity gripped you as you stepped inside, a place well above your station, yet you wondered if there was anyone inside.

The doors remained shut, save for the one you slipped through, the gap slim. Flickering braziers provided some illumination to such a grandeur hall, but it seemed so dour and lifeless without the presence of the day, without subjects fluttering in and out. Instead, it provided an ominous sense of dread, as if luring those inside with dark omens and false promises.

A familiar crown of silvery tresses stood at the very center, before the throne — he didn’t need to turn around for you to know who it was. He seemed entirely unscathed by the battle at Rook’s Rest, hands carefully folded behind his back, posture poised and dignified.

Aegon’s dagger flashed within his right hand, clutched tightly at his side. You wondered how he had acquired the blade so swiftly after a tragedy — but you knew. You had always known of Aemond’s nature, of his restrained resentment towards his brother, the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

“Aemond.” Your voice reverberated throughout the throne room, carrying a fair distance as you closed the door behind you. The studded mahogany groaned in protest, yet bent to your will as it closed with a noisy thud. Admittedly, you were surprised to see him here, and not in the comfort of his chambers.

He didn’t move, rigid and still as you quietly approached, dresses sweeping across the smooth stone beneath you. His violet hues remained transfixed upon the Iron Throne, a throne that would soon be his, if fate favored him. So many swords, so much strife and conflict that forged such a chair — so much bloodshed.

Aemond often wondered what the weight of the crown would feel like upon his brow — and even then, he knew he would wear it better than Aegon ever could. He had stood by the wayside for far too long, learned in his studies and a talented swordsman, wondering if it would all have some reward, some payoff.

Now, his opportunity was swiftly approaching.

Whatever anger he’d often kept leashed, it had struck out, like the bite of a poisonous viper, sinking into its prey with all its bitter viciousness. It was the same tempestuous rage that had lashed at Lucerys Velaryon, and now it had struck his brother, Aegon the Magnanimous.

A stupid sobriquet for a stupid man — a drunken fool. Aemond would simply pass it off as an unfortunate accident, with Aegon carelessly stepping into the line of fire whilst tangling with the Queen Who Never Was. Swift decisions had to be made on his part, his brother a victim of such action.

Any silver-tongued words that would placate his Mother, he was prepared to let them fly. Aemond knew enough to know that the consequences would be slim, and those of true action and cruel intentions would take Aegon’s place — men like himself.

Soft footfalls fell across black stone, and you called his name again, like a siren’s song luring the sailor into deeper waters. “Aemond.” It was saccharine, dripping with genuine warmth that the Prince was simply unaccustomed to.

The unexpected lull of your voice broke his fixation, and he looked to you with a gaze full of desire. It was a farcry from the frustrated, despondent man you’d encountered days prior following the incident at the brothel. There was a newfound fire within his eyes, a confidence restored — a sense of triumph.

Admittedly, you were rather perplexed by this invigorated side to Aemond — that wild gleam within his lilac eye only seemed to grow in intensity as you approached him. “I heard the news of what happened to your brother,” You began, pondering his reaction. “You have my deepest sympathies.”

The admiration he had for you only seemed to blossom, knowing that you were simply keeping up appearances for his sake. Aemond’s mouth tilted into the ghost of a smirk, feigning melancholy despite the truth of his own actions. “It was a horrible thing, what happened to the King,” He uttered, glancing toward the throne. “I wish for his swift recovery.”

A facade was a mere understatement — you could almost taste the smug bemusement that rested within Aemond’s tone. The slight quirk of his mouth, the manner in which he spoke — his sympathies for Aegon were nonexistent.

“As any good brother would.” You replied, stepping closer until you stood before the Iron Throne, gaze falling upon the thousands of swords swarming the seat, blades of many shapes and sizes. You wondered about the people behind each sword — who swung it, what their lives must’ve been like.

A brief hum escaped Aemond, who observed you hawkishly as you approached, violet hue greedily drinking you in as he had many times before. You had stood so faithfully by his side, never admonished him for the brash actions taken against his family, never deemed him pathetic for what happened at the brothel.

He cared little for your station, little for your status as a lowborn — if he sat the Iron Throne, he could have whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter if you were a commoner, Aemond could envision you as his wife, a Queen — no longer bowing to the whims of greater men and women who cared little for you.

“Did my Mother dismiss you this evening?” Aemond questioned, digits tense around the pommel of Aegon’s knife — now his. Seeing as he was no longer fit to carry the weapon, it was only just that it pass to his brother, his next of kin.

“She did,” A gentle exhale escaped you, one that allowed you to maintain your composure. Being in Aemond’s presence seemed to make you dizzy with desire with each passing moment — not a new sentiment, but an intoxicating one. “I was coming to find you, to see if you were well after the battle.”

Shamelessly, Aemond became quite aroused at the thought of you wandering about the Red Keep with the single-minded desire to see him. His blood ran hot after the battle — the surge of adrenaline did not lessen in your presence.

His jaw tensed slightly as he appraised you, taking a step closer, brazenly closing the distance between you both. He could smell your perfume, the warm bouquet of flowers and a touch of honey. “How thoughtful.” His voice dropped to a low purr, dripping with the first inklings of lust.

Your breath hitched, words turning to ash upon your tongue as your fingers curled into your dress. Aemond enticed you in ways that no man had before — and he saw you, a woman beneath the gowns of a servant. The hammering of your heart within your chest had stirred something powerful — your want for him consumed you like a tidal wave.

Before you could utter his name, he descended like a starving wolf to kiss you, open-mouthed and bleeding lust. You shivered, wanting to coax him into returning to his chambers before things became heated. His hand dropped to seize your hip, hauling you closer to him until no space was left between your bodies.

You reciprocated his kiss, able to hear a faint growl of approval building up within his throat. It was fiery and hot, with little concern of who might see you. Aemond was growing emboldened, brazen knowing the power he now held within his grasp.

“We should return to your quarters,” You whispered, a strained whimper tearing past your lips as Aemond kissed your jaw, sucking at the flesh of your neck. “Aemond, we can’t — not here.” Your breathy pleas fell upon deaf ears — what better place to claim you than before his new throne?

“We can,” Aemond murmured, pushing your tresses aside as he claimed your throat, laying waste to your flesh in his rabid kisses and hungry bites. “The rest of the Keep is preoccupied.” His reassurance was threadbare at best, but you were beginning to slip off of the deep end, fingers clawing at his tunic.

“What if someone sees?” Fear trickled into your voice, a subtle fright that Aemond found to be enticing. You worried for your own skin — he could understand that. A moan escaped you as Aemond nipped at your jugular, squeezing at your hips.

You failed to comprehend that he would protect you, shield you if needed. He did not need to justify his obsession for you, just as Aegon never offered any justification for his nightly whore hunts. Aemond seemed quick to soothe your worry, hand clasping at the nape of your neck.

“Then I will have their head,” His delectable purr dropped an octave, scratching the itch within your head. “You needn’t worry, ñuha dōna. I can do whatever I wish.” Aemond assured you, a great fire burning within his lilac hue. The leather of his eyepatch concealed the listless sapphire beneath.

He only needed to serve himself — his family cared little for him, and the world was often against him. He looked forward to facing Daemon whenever the time came, should he be bold enough to challenge him. Aemond dismissed it all — Aegon, his mother, Criston Cole — the only thing that mattered were the both of you.

Aemond’s streak of possessiveness had grown into something uncontrollable, a festering desire to keep you close, spiraling into obsession. You were many things to him, many things he coveted for himself.

After a moment of hesitation, you decided to make things tempting for Aemond, loosening the bodice of your dress. His breath hitched, the noise subtle if one wasn’t observant enough. He seized the back of your head once more, hungrily pressing his lips to yours, consuming you in another heated kiss.

A dour portrait of dusk hovers around the Red Keep, its shadowy tendrils slinking into the throne room. Only moonlight and dying braziers are your guide, and Aemond is at his prettiest whenever he’s touched by the silvery rays. It strikes his narrow visage, paints his silky tresses in pale light.

He is closer to a god now than he is a man — fortunately, you were willing to return to religion if it meant that Aemond was who you worshiped. As much as you liked to believe it was the foundation of your relationship, he thought of it alternatively, the roles reversed.

Your digits slip beneath the overcoat he wore, marred by speckled dirt and brimstone. His broad, sinewy shoulders are concealed by his tunic, and he seems vastly overdressed compared to you, still wearing your servant’s clothes. Aemond had gotten you a dress to wear with him before — you never wore it otherwise.

There is a certain intensity in the way he kisses you, as if each embrace might be your last. In the aftermath of a battle, you understand such sentiments, given the fate of the King and the Princess Rhaenys.

A growl reverberates within the depths of his throat as he pries his mouth away from you, gesturing toward the flight of obsidian steps that ascend toward the Iron Throne. “There,” He uttered, more of a command than a suggestion. “Lay down.”

A shudder rolls down the length of your spine, followed by an onslaught of goosebumps that snake across your flesh like a fever. Your stomach churned with anticipation, filling with the sensation of sloshing heat, burning brighter as each moment passed.

Without question, you step toward the throne, noticing the sharpness of some blades, the dullness of others. You find your footing upon the last step, feeling Aemond stalk closer. The rustling of his belt makes you shiver, only to find the steely chill of the Conqueror’s knife pressed against the dip between your shoulder and neck.

Aemond closes in behind you, caging you against his chest, like a predator swarming hapless prey. His narrow nose brushed along your soft tresses as he dragged the tip of the knife from your shoulder to ribcage. “Shall I cut this from you?” He uttered, digging the Valyrian steel into the fabric of your dress.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you brace yourself for the bite of the knife, for the unruly tear of fabric, but it never comes. Instead, Aemond’s mouth pressed vigorous kisses against your neck, hand seizing you by the throat.

“Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke.” Aemond purred, feeling you turn within his grasp. Desire oozed between you both, an onslaught of carnality soon to follow. His lilac hue flickered over your countenance, drinking in your beauty with unrestrained rapture. You belong to me.

From what little High Valyrian you’d learned in the time you’ve been with Aemond, you strung enough of the sentence together to know what he meant. “Iksan aōhon.” A soft whimper emerged from between your parted lips, noticing the way his pupil dilated with amorous intent.

I am yours.

A flame of obsession roared within his gaze, enough to burn you alive where you stood. Aemond reveled in your submission to him, drank in your devotion — a devotion that would prove fruitful, should he ascend the throne. The tip of the knife prodded into your sternum, and you absentmindedly leaned forward.

Aemond captured your mouth once more, laying claim to you — his paramour. There was nothing sweeter than your desperate mewls and reciprocated passion, the succor of your mouth, the saccharine scent of your perfume.

The both of you descended to the floor, icy and stony as it prodded into your back. He knelt between your legs, gaze momentarily flickering between the shadow of the Iron Throne and your mesmerized visage. Aemond kissed you again, nipping at your lower lip before rucking up your skirts, pushing them toward your hips.

With one knee, he bullied his way in between your thighs, breaths heavier, wrought with anticipation as he lowered his mouth to your collarbone. In one smooth tug, he loosened your bodice, wrestling with the coarse material as he buried his face into your silky skin.

The throes of passion filled the air — short gasps and labored pants accompanied by the constant shuffling of fabric. “Aemond,” You moaned, watching as he bit the leather of his glove, removing the garment in one jerk of his head. Flesh to flesh, he moved to drag his digits along your weeping slit. “Aemond.” Urgency crept into your voice, strung-out by need.

“Hm,” His cajoling hum sent shivers down your spine, heat sloshing around within your stomach. Arousal pooled between your thighs, nectar sticky and gathering swiftly. “What a delicious gift you’ve given me.” Aemond uttered, slender digits continuing to stroke at your cunt, his pace agonizingly slow.

Lifting his fingers to his lips, he let them rest upon his tongue, gathering your juices to taste. A satisfied grunt of approval escaped him, one that made you meld into the floor. It was an uncomfortable surface, yet any thought of discomfort dissipated the moment Aemond’s lips pressed against the inside of your knee.

Instinctively, your hands flew toward his crown of silken tresses, digging in with an ironclad hold. Aemond released a low hiss of satisfaction, pressing hot kisses along the inside of your thigh. He dipped lower, breath fanning across your cunt.

His tongue raked hot embers across your aching core, delivering a series of deliberate strokes that were sure to make you squirm. Aemond preferred to savor you, consuming every drop of your nectar as if it were the finest of wines.

“Aemond!” Your voice rose above the cacophony of lewd noises ensuing below, noisy enough to reverberate throughout the throne room. It worried you, the potential of someone finding you with the Prince-Regent between your legs, but pleasure began to outweigh logic.

His name felt sweet from your mouth — if Aemond had it his way, he would make you say it a thousand times over. The sharp bridge of his nose buried itself into your mound, cock twitching within the leather of his breeches.

Another breathy moan left you, stomach pooling with a rush of molten heat. It oozed between your legs as your arousal fell upon the Prince’s tongue, much to his delight. He did not waste a drop, mouth traveling wherever he pleased, lapping at every inch of your cunt.

The Iron Throne overshadowed the both of you, a jagged mess of swords surrounded by dusk. Slats of moonlight trickled in from the stained glass above, falling across his visage, violet hue sparkling with lust. His lips greedily kissed at your clit, causing your hips to lurch forward.

“Look at me.” A pointed demand spoken from an edged tongue, one that commanded your attention without wavering. With a strangled moan, you turned your head to him, furthering the fire within your belly. Your doe-eyed stare locked onto him, lips falling apart.

As your eyes flickered over his poised features, your hand tightened within his tresses, coaxing him closer toward the apex of your thighs. Aemond wasn’t sly at suppressing the delight he felt in that moment, greedily lapping at your cunt.

You watched, enthralled by the ministrations of his mouth, the flick of his tongue, the tantalizing efforts made to draw you back in. His features were carved like marble, by the steady hand of a sculptor — godly, in the best way possible.

Aemond hoped that your blissful cries would alert the guards — perhaps, all could bear witness to his carnal delights, know that you belonged to him and him alone. His lips crawled to a sluggish pace, made only to torment you as he peppered feather-light kisses against your clit. The lack of pressure nearly made you wretch, digits curling into a fist.

Every fiber of your being felt as if it had been set ablaze, washed within the fires of his affection. He knew your body well, as well as he knew his own, tongue dipping to have a taste of your core as it lightly jutted against your entrance. You whimpered, the noise pathetic and pitiful, yet overwhelmingly eager.

“Please,” You moaned, breathy and clawing for some shred of release, canting your hips forward. Aemond retreated, just enough to leave you writing upon the steps before a sly chuckle reverberated between your thighs. His torture of you was playful and intimate, intended to make you beg. “Please, Aemond!”

How could he deny you when you sounded so sweet?

With a soft hum, Aemond returned to devour your cunt, drink from the nectar that oozed between your legs. His hands situated themselves against your thighs, nails digging in enough to leave behind traces of angered crescent marks.

The heat between your legs intensified, arousal stinging your bones, body bent underneath Aemond’s will as he lapped at your core. His lips were accompanied by his spindly digits as two fingers prodded at your entrance, feeling the crescendo of your whimpers before sinking themselves into your tight cunt.

Squelching intermingled with that of brazen pants and your myriad of moans, a cacophony of lust that permeated the throne room. It felt sinful, to defile the steps of a seat of power, but that shame swiftly contorted into bliss — it felt good.

It felt good to be desired, for Aemond to feel not an ounce of regret or remorse for being with you or for the carnage his actions wrought. The darkness that festered within his eye only grew, once a flickering shade, now growing into something sprawling.

At last, his lips pursed around your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your back arched from the stone, thighs rattling like falling leaves as he brought about your ruin. His digits viciously pumped in and out of your cunt, preparing you for the act that was to follow.

His tongue lashed across his lower lip, not wasting a drop of what sweetness you provided him with. Aemond’s mouth hastily abandoned your cunt, yet the curling of his fingers seemed to make up for the loss of pleasure. You felt his wet lips purse around the pebbled peak of your breast, suckling like a greedy babe.

Aemond’s senses drowned in desire, cock throbbing within his trousers, desperate to be inside of you. It wouldn’t be much longer now as he bit and kissed your chest, letting the work manifest as love bites, evidence of his carnal want for you.

“I need you, Aemond. I need you inside of me.” The suddenness of your words left him reeling, a snarl stirring within his chest as his teeth gnashed into the soft flesh between your breasts. You longed to feel his cock lay waste to your cunt, for him to fuck away his anger, his frustration.

Hastily, his hand flew to the ties of his breeches, loosening the threads of leather. You grabbed the front of his tunic, enough to effectively grab his attention as you pulled him in for a hot kiss. Passion bled through, and you could taste yourself upon his tongue as it danced with yours.

The warmth of his cockhead prodded against your folds, already slick with your cum and his own. It was messy, an entanglement born of desire, of the will to possess one another — a claim eternal. Aemond’s hand snaked toward your hip, the other keeping himself afloat before he snapped forward.

His cock invaded your cunt without any sluggishness to it, the deliberation gone entirely. A wild shimmer glistened within his eye, a domineering edge that seemed to wrestle with itself. Aemond wanted to submit to you, but in the wake of Rook’s Rest, adrenaline and a desire for power simply wouldn’t allow it.

As he fucked you like a hound, as Aegon had colorfully put it, Aemond could see you seated beside him, a crown upon your brow, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. A commoner, crawled from dirt and from nothing, into his arms — into a seat of power that none would dare challenge.

Fantasy consumed him, making him mad with lust. He wanted to crawl beneath your flesh, reside there, hear your heart hammering within your breast. He seemed pleasantly surprised when you claimed his mouth, your tongue advancing past his parted lips.

With your skirts having fallen to the swell of your hips, you hitched one leg around him, hand clawing at his back, between his shoulders. “Aemond,” You moaned, overwhelmed by his barrage of erratic thrusts. His stamina was something to witness as he kept a rather vigorous pace. “My King.”

A low growl stirred within his throat, a stark warning not to continue with your current line of thought. Aemond bit at your lower lip, prompting you to moan into his mouth, but you surprised him again when you reciprocated. Things were intense, far more fiery than they ever had been before.

Battle made him hot — such a sensation wasn’t aided by your presence, intensified tenfold. With Aegon wasting away inside of his chambers, steel melting into his flesh, swarmed by flocks of Maesters, Aemond felt no remorse — none at all as he fucked you before the Iron Throne.

He felt no remorse when he ordered Vhagar to burn his brother, he felt no remorse when he brought you into his bed — and he would feel no remorse when he ascended the throne and made you his Queen.

His cock furiously battered away at your cunt, the lewdness of flesh and intermingled breaths being the only sounds that mattered. That lilac hue of his studied your countenance, the devotion and rapture that rest upon it, your complete and utter joy. Aemond had been blessed with the loveliest creature — you.

The stretch you felt as Aemond invaded your nethers was a pleasant one, your walls tight around his length as he continued to fuck you. Face to face, chest to chest — there was no room left for deception, nowhere left to turn to. With a groan, Aemond kissed you yet again.

“Kesan mazverdagon ao ñuha dāria.” I will make you my Queen; he growled into your ear, biting at the shell, the act enough to make you whimper. He filled your cunt with his cock, the only one that it would ever take. In the heat of the moment, he bit at your neck, hand gripping your thigh so hard that it was bound to leave bruises.

Darkness swallowed the hallowed halls — braziers flickering out completely, leaving only moonlight. Even through the silvery haze, Aemond’s face remained a picture of living perfection, his brow creased with concentration.

The fervor of his pace began to slow, cock throbbing with an onslaught of arousal, one that flooded his body with waves of bliss. He wasn’t neglectful of your needs, swiftly placing a hand between your bodies, thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

Heavy footfalls of guardsmen resonated from outside of the sealed doors, a nightly patrol, prompting you to shiver from worry, but Aemond did not stop — and he wouldn’t. His blazing eye bared down upon you, glistening with the sheen of lust, of obsession, a man starved of the love and devotion he so desperately chased.

Your lips felt swollen, a byproduct of Aemond’s biting, of the many shared kisses that had turned into hunger. You were ravenous for him in ways that you had little knowledge of, scraping the surface of what desire truly meant.

Silky, pale tresses fell through your digits as you threaded them within his hair, gripping it in fistfuls as you continued to kiss him until every wisp of air was stolen from your lungs. Aemond did not relent, continuing to adopt a rhythmic pace of fucking you, cock halfway out before he thrust forward again and again.

As the both of you approached the precipice, falling into a white-hot abyss, you could hear him murmuring something in High Valyrian, strings of sweet praises and compliments. His thumb continued to circle your clit even after you had your release, milking his cock with an onslaught of your nectar.

Aemond grunted, forehead nudging against yours as he snapped forward one final time, cock sheathed inside of you as he found a warm place to spill his seed. The recklessness of it was of little consequence to him — an herbal tea could remedy it, yet the thought of filling you with an heir became tantalizing.

Not yet — not now.

If his seed were to take, it would sow discord across his house, and there was enough of that already. Aemond huffed, gathering his composure as your whimpers dwindled into soft pants. His claws sank so deep into you, talons wrenched into your heart, your body, everything.

He placed a kiss upon your brow, a subtle gesture that reminded you of his lingering duality. Aemond pulled himself out of you with an onslaught of stickiness, a mess that would only be remedied by a long soak in the bath — something he would need you for.

Your chest felt tight, both from exhilaration and the intensity of it all. As you adjusted your skirts back into place, Aemond gently coaxed you to your feet, pressed close against you as he stared at the throne. “Perhaps, once I ascend, we will have to make use of the throne.” His salacious purr made you shudder.

“There is no law forbidding us from acting upon that now,” You challenged, and Aemond had to restrain himself from acting upon such a lascivious impulse. For as coy as you could be, you were just as lustful as he was at times, a quality that he greatly adored. “Your Grace.”

As much as the teasing title seemed to provoke him, Aemond grabbed your hips, lips twitching into his familiar smirk, a near-permanent expression. “Aemond,” He corrected, pressing a kiss against your jaw. “For now, I will need assistance with drawing a bath.”

The Throne’s harrowing shape cast its shadow as the both of you abandoned the dark halls and into the light of Aemond’s chambers.

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not attempt to steal or translate my works onto other platforms or claim it as your own.

[lilithandherharlots]

Too shy to tell you

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.

Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]

Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!

:::

"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.

"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.

"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."

"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.

He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.

"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.

"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."

He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.

:::

It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.

"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.

"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.

"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.

He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.

"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.

"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.

"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.

"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."

You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.

"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.

You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.

"Please don't take that away from me."

His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...

"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."

As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.

"F-fine... I promise."

"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.

"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"

The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.

This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.

He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.

"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.

"I'll buy you the cutest flats."

:::

A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.

The end

[lillotte17]

*throws more Veilguard Banter into the gaping maw of Tumblr and then flees*

~~

Solas: “I have another question, Varric. If I may?”

Varric: “Just the one?”

S: “For now. I must admit, I was surprised to see that you were the one they asked to make an attempt at dissuading me from completing my mission. Not to belittle our prior bonds of friendship, but if the intent was to send an agent who might presumably hold some power of persuasion over me, I…would have thought another candidate might have seemed like the more obvious choice.”

V: “Would it really have changed anything if she had been the one telling you to stop?”

 S: “I…do not know. I should think not.”

V: “But at least you would have gotten to see her again, right?”

S: “Perhaps.”

V: “Heh, don’t you worry, Chuckles, I’m sure you’ll get your chance. The fact that I was here instead of her is more of a fluke than anything else. She was more than eager to follow up on the tip that led us to you, but then the kid insisted on tagging along, and you know how it is.”

S: “…kid?”

V: “Right, the kid. You probably haven’t seen him either.”

S: “…No. I have not. Although, I would have thought that there would have been news if the Herald of Andraste had… Well. I suppose there is wisdom in striving to keep such affairs private. I certainly have no right to voice an objection.”

V: “Why would you object to seeing the kid again?”

S: “Again? I… You are referring to Cole.”

V: *snorts* “Well, yeah. Who’d you think I was talking about?”

S: “Never mind.”

~

Rook: “So, Varric, do you really think the Inquisitor is going to show up?”

Varric: “Oh, don’t worry, she’ll be here. She’s been searching high and low for Chuckles for nearly a decade.”

R: *whistles* “And she never caught up to him in all that time?”

V: “Once. It…didn’t end well. After that, a few of our agents came close over the years, but it turns out that the world is a pretty big place, and tracking a lone elf with a network of magical transportation mirrors on his side is about as tricky as you’d expect. It’s even harder when you’ve got a notorious reputation and half of Thedas has seen portraits of your face. One whisper of the Herald of Andraste entering a city, and all our leads would vanish overnight.”

R: “But…I thought the two of them liked each other?”

V: “I think that made it worse, actually.”

Solas: “You do realize that I am standing right here?”

~

Solas: “For what it is worth, I am sorry about your Bianca, Varric.”

Varric: “Oh, you know, what’s an irreplaceable keepsake from the woman I can never be with in the grand scheme of things, anyway? At least you didn’t turn me to stone.”

S: “Your anger is justified. I do not expect your forgiveness, but I would apologize for my actions, none the less.”

V: “Look, if I were you, my forgiveness isn’t what I’d be worried about right now. Someone else has a much bigger bone to pick with you than I do.”

S: “I am not expecting her forgiveness, either.”

V: “So, you’re not even going to try?”

S: “And what, precisely, should I be trying, Master Tethras? This is hardly the sort of situation to be solved by a bouquet of flowers and a well-constructed poem.”

Rook: “Maybe you could send chocolates?”

V: “I was going to suggest groveling, actually.”

[incorrectbatfam]

Damian & Duke Bonding? There are not enough of those in the world. Maybe this planet would be a better place if there was.

Duke: I'm heading out.

Bruce: Where?

Duke: Just hanging out at the museum with my friends.

Bruce: Good, then you can take Damian.

Duke: What? Why?

Damian: I have a paper due on Friday.

Duke: Ugh, fine.

Bruce: And remember, Duke, you're older so it's your responsibility to keep him safe.

Duke: Whatever.

[at the museum entrance]

Duke: You know the deal. Just stay out of my way.

Damian: Not to worry, I don't need anyone to supervise me.

Damian: *snatches his ticket and walks away*

Duke: That's a relief.

[dinosaur exhibit]

Duke: ...Yeah, then the principal said—

Duke: *sees Damian climbing a T-Rex skeleton*

Duke: Hey, look over there!

His friends: *look the other way*

Duke: *flips over the dinosaur and grabs Damian*

Duke: *puts Damian down and runs back to his friends*

Duke: Whoops, thought I saw something. Guess I was mistaken.

[solar system exhibit]

Dre, snickering: Uranus. Get it?

Riko: Oh yeah. Hilarious.

Duke: *sees Damian dangling upside-down from a planet on the ceiling*

Duke: I'm getting a phone call, one sec.

Duke: *grabs a ladder and meets Damian*

Damian: Can I help you?

Duke: *sighs and slings Damian over his shoulder*

[biodiversity exhibit]

Izzy: ...So I told my brother that, but still...

Damian: *leans over a railing*

Duke: *slips away and pulls Damian back before he falls*

Duke: You're lucky that shark's not real.

Duke: *goes back to his friends*

Damian: I would have simply adopted it.

[engineering exhibit]

Dax: Guys, check it out.

Dax: *launches a baseball catapult*

Duke: *catches the ball before it hits Damian*

[bathrooms]

Duke: *leaves the bathroom*

Duke: *sees Damian entering an exhibit under construction*

Duke: This kid just can't quit.

Duke: *tackles Damian away from a falling beam*

Duke, annoyed: You're welcome.

Damian: Tt.

[food court]

Duke: I'll take a ham sandwich and a cookie.

Steph, the cashier: Here you go.

Duke: *sits down by his friends*

Steph: Next!

Damian: I will have a vegan burger, apple juice, and cookie.

Steph: Sorry, kiddo, we just sold our last cookie.

Damian, disappointed: Oh, alright. I'll just take the burger and juice.

Duke, to his friends: I'll be right back.

Duke: *hands Damian the cookie*

Duke: How's the paper coming?

Damian: I believe I've gathered what I needed.

Duke, ruffling Damian's hair: Cool, just stay out of any more trouble.

Damian: Tt.

Duke: *goes back to his table*

Damian: *pulls out his notebook*

Damian, writing: Of the many things at the Gotham Museum, the one that stood out the most is my big brother...

[palajae]

bfb. (my best friend’s brother is the one for me!)

PAIRING... best friend’s brother!riki x reader | GENRE... dancer! au, romance, humor, fluff, a flirty riki and down bad reader | WC... 2.1k | inspired by best friend’s brother by victorious (if you couldn’t tell already lmao)

wrote this at 2am in celebration of 1000 posts wtf 

the first nishimura you met and befriended was actually sola. the first day you joined lead entertainment all those years ago, the bright and bubbly girl was the one who greeted you and showed you around. 

“oh, and this is my sister konon!” 

your eyes widen at the sight of the sweaty, yet still gorgeous girl coming out of the practice room. by the looks of it, you assumed she had just finished leading a class. 

immediately, the resemblance hit you. the nishimura girls were both beautiful and talented. 

konon tilts her head at you, guzzling down water. 

“so you’re the newbie.” 

you nod, “nice to meet you. i watched a bit of your class and you were incredible.”

“could say the same here.” when your eyes widen, a bit taken aback, she explains herself. 

“saw your first class earlier today. not bad, for a beginner. you could work on your facials, though.”

you raise an eyebrow, “is that just constructive criticism or an offer to teach me?” 

konon shrugs as sola giggles, “whatever you want it to be.” you both then share a smile. you instantly knew you two were going to get along well. 

for the next couple of weeks, you spent a lot of time with konon. not just dancing, but also bonding to the point you considered her your best friend. she taught you a lot more about the performance aspect of dancing, which you greatly appreciated. honestly, konon was mesmerizing both on and off the stage. 

“wanna sleepover?” konon asks after a particularly long session. “my parents probably won’t be back since they have to close up the studio, so you can come over to my place.” 

“wait a second, your parents own the company?!”

“oh y/n,” konon shakes her head sympathetically, “there’s a lot you don’t know.” 

and right she was. you had absolutely no idea that the nishimura girls had, in fact, another sibling. 

a brother. 

freshly showered, you gasp in awe while admiring the nishimura residence. it was clean with those sleek modern vibes, and not to mention filled with countless dancing awards that you assumed came from the girls. 

as konon leads you up the stairs, she tells you to wait outside her door. “it’s a bit messy…” 

you roll your eyes, telling her that you don’t mind, but she protests nonetheless. while waiting, you explore the hall. most of the room doors were closed, but a faint sound coming from one of the rooms catches your attention. 

it sounded like, someone yelling? they had a remarkably deep voice, like they were a guy-

“y/n!” konon hisses and you jump, turning around. “what are you doing? get in here!”

finally seeing her room distracts you, as you momentarily forget about the noise coming from down the hall. 

you had stayed up rather (very) late with konon, yapping the night away. not expecting to stay over, you didn’t bring anything. at some point, you begin to shiver. “it’s kinda cold,” you whine. 

in a sleepy daze, konon goes out of the room and retunes with a random hoodie.  

she throws it at your face, in which you grunt a thanks. 

“why is it so freaking huge,” you yawn while shoving it over your head. she mutters something random while plopping onto the bed, leaving the both of you to pass out contentedly. 

the next morning, you groan as you wake up. konon was still snoring away, so you decided to quietly go downstairs and grab a glass of water. 

the whole house still seemed quiet, so you assumed her parents and sister were still sleeping as well. they knew you stayed the night, right? 

carefully grabbing a glass, you pour yourself some water and gulp it down with a satisfied sigh. turning around, you’re about to head back up when you almost bump into a body. 

your eyes fly open in surprise as your water slightly spills over you and… him?

the first thought in your head is that—

crap, this guy is ridiculously handsome. and tall. 

you gape, pointing a finger at the stranger although you know it’s rude. 

“who are you?”

he squints back, “what are you doing in my house?” 

the situation you were currently in was so unexpected that you remain speechless for a moment. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,“ you splutter. 

he crosses his arms, studying you from head to toe before he smirks. you swallow uncomfortably, feeling a little too warm. 

“konon invited me over!” you manage to spit out, mirroring his actions by crossing your arms too. 

“sure. i guess that means you’re allowed to steal other people’s clothes as well?” 

you tilt your head in confusion. “what do you mean?”

he only chuckles, making you feel even more flustered. “answer my question!”

he takes a step closer and you force yourself to stand your ground and not take one back. “which one?” 

his voice is so deep that you shiver. then it hits you—he must’ve been the one you heard yesterday night down the hall! 

“b-both,” you mumble while looking away. just as he opens his mouth, about to answer, you hear konon’s voice sleepily calling out your name. 

“you’re up already?” she yawns as she pads down the stairs. you furrow your eyebrows, glancing from the strangely familiar tall stranger to konon, then back to him, and finally back to her. 

your mouth drops agape. 

“don’t tell me-!” 

“oh, you didn’t know riki was my brother?”

you want to die of embarrassment. not only were you clueless about the fact that a nishimura riki did indeed exist, you were really done dirty by konon. 

how were you supposed to know that the hoodie you ‘borrowed’ actually belonged to aforementioned person? 

how did you not even know konon and sola had a brother? neither sister had ever brought him up before and you had never seen him around the company because oh, you would have remembered a face like that. 

your face burned, mortified, as you brought the washed hoodie back to konon. 

“could you return this to your…brother?”

“shouldn’t you do it yourself, considering you were the one who wore it?” she snickers as you complain endlessly.

“you gave it to me, so i thought it was yours!” you groan while rubbing a hand over your face in frustration. 

“don’t worry about it. riki is chill, especially since you guys are around the same age.” 

great. how were you going to face her unfortunately, really stupidly super cute brother?  

she tells you what room he’s practicing in, and you despise how your heart is pounding as you make your way over. 

since you hear music still playing, you decide to wait patiently outside for him to finish. you figure there was probably no harm in peeking through the windows while you waited. 

you were wrong. your mouth literally dries up at the sight in front of your eyes. 

life was unfair. not only was riki blessed with good looks, he was also an incredible dancer? obviously, you should’ve expected no less from the nishimuras. 

when the music stops, you take a deep breath and knock. to your surprise, the door almost immediately opens. 

the sight of a sweaty and breathless riki is almost too much for you to handle. 

“hi,” you say meekly. internally, you face palm. just being around him caused your brain to shut down.

“hey. enjoy the show?”

“what?” your head snaps up, flustered. 

riki laughs before opening the door and letting you in. “i was just joking.”

“oh… well, i wanted to give this back to you.”

he looks down at the bag held out to him. 

“it’s washed,” you add hastily, “thanks for letting me wear your hoodie without permission, i guess.”

“no problem. it looked better on you than me, anyway.”

oh no. your heart definitely skipped a beat. 

seeing your reaction, riki reaches over to ruffle your hair. 

“you’re cute.”

you? cute? riki? his smile? adorable? 

“y/n? are you alright? why did you come here?”

“huh? what?” you finally snap to your senses. 

you don’t even realize where you are until sola is waving a hand in front of your face. after riki’s words, you definitely spaced out. how did you even get here, about to enter the youth group’s class?

she watches you worriedly. “you were walking down the hall like a zombie. did something happen?”

your mouth opens, but you aren’t able to formulate a response. yes-but no, not really - you don’t even know yourself. 

instead, you choose to place your hands on her shoulders and sigh pitifully. “you nishimuras are going to be the death of me…”

after that day, every encounter with the menace that is nishimura riki only makes your life harder. 

much harder in the sense that you just want to shut him up with a kiss. his nonstop flirting made you wonder if he was born like this. i mean, everyone at the studio knew he was handsome. 

girls would whisper and flirt with him whenever he stepped into the studio. and yet, he rejected their advances and seemed disinterested. riki only acted crazy, well, in front of you. 

when you tried to bring it up discreetly to konon, she simply snorted. 

“riki’s used to the attention. it doesn’t phase him anymore. he’s like a little kid. he doesn’t care—i think he’s just not interested in anyone.” 

except, riki wasn’t like that around you. he was sweet, offering you water when no one else was around. he left snacks and silly notes in your dance locker. he would make funny faces and wink at you when his sisters weren’t looking.

it almost made you delusional. like maybe he… reciprocated your feelings? 

you hated keeping all your feelings suppressed, all behind konon’s back. still, you always asked to come over to her house when you knew riki was there. 

you couldn’t get him out of your mind. your best friend, konon’s, brother. if only they weren’t related. then nishimura riki would be the one for you. 

“i’m gonna go use the restroom.”

konon hums as you leave to go out into the hall with purposefully loud steps. you hold your breath, praying that you’ll ‘run into’ riki somehow. you knew exactly which room was his, so you could only hope he came out at the exact moment you did. 

he doesn’t. deflated, you quietly tip toe over to his room, placing an ear to the door. 

you listen, hoping to hear some noise. it’s awfully quiet, maybe he’s not in his room-

whoosh! 

the door swings open and suddenly, you gasp as you’re dragged in. riki sneakily closes the door as you’re stunned by the latest sequence of events, almost jumping out of your skin.  

how in the world did you end up in riki’s room, with him, 

alone?

“riki-“

he shushes you by pushing his finger to your lips. goosebumps appear on your arm, simply by his touch. you didn’t even realize that his other hand was still holding onto yours. 

“eavesdropping, were you?” 

he renders you speechless. you really didn’t have an excuse… 

he grins, “or were you just hoping to bump into me?”

you mumble something random, embarrassed. 

“don’t worry, i was hoping to get you alone too.” 

your eyes flick up to him, before you sigh and pull your arm out of his warm grasp. “do you really wanna know why? it’s because i can’t keep wondering.”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean this,” you gesture outwards, “i can’t keep wondering about this-us- because…”

“because?” he gazes at you with adoration evident. you squint. 

oh, he knows. at that point, you realize he‘s known. riki has known for a long time, maybe even since the beginning. 

at this point, it’s too late. nothing else to do but swallow your pride. you stand up straight, biting your lips.  

“is it wrong for me to say that, i like you? like, a lot?” 

riki says nothing for a moment, which only serves to makes you panic. if you just made a huge mistake and misread all of his signals-

“honestly, i always liked you.”

your breath hitches. he shrugs, looking almost shy himself for the first time in front of you. 

“i noticed you on your first day. i just didn’t know you grew that close to my sister.” 

suddenly, riki leans in as if he’s about to kiss you. you quickly stop him by holding onto his broad shoulders. 

you swallow, searching his eyes. 

“but what about konon?”

he seems annoyed at the mention of his sister. “what about her?”

“you’re my best friend’s brother!”

riki simply smiles cheekily while leaning in, “she doesn’t have to know.” 

when your lips meet, you can’t help but smile. it felt so right, wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up by your waist. 

it seems like your best friend’s brother really was the one for you. 

a/n ▸ you know i had to for my 1000th post since riki is so bfb coded <333  

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[ariela-wagner-me]

Understanding the Complexities of Construction Liens: Types of Lienors and Exemptions

In this blog, we're exploring construction liens and who has rights in the building process. Join us to understand the ins and outs in simple terms.

[13uswntimagines]

The Royal Playbook (Alessia X Leah X Royal!R)

Summary: It wasn't often that you used your name or your titles, but to see your girlfriends, you would do just about anything. Even if it means going head-to-head with your new security. 

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, but otherwise nothing. It's a fluff piece.

Your life was complicated. Well… that may have been putting it lightly. 

Everything in your life had been planned for you since well before you were born. You had a tutor, an etiquette instructor, and an equestrian coach from the moment you came screaming into the world. Along with a security detail and a personal team of butlers to help you navigate life. 

It was simple, you would be academically trained, coached in diplomacy (and swordsmanship as was customary on Braavos), and exposed to different cultures so that you could continue to lead your country like your father and his mother before him. You would marry a foreign diplomat, and make political bonds that would strengthen your little island nation’s place in Europe. 

Falling in love had never been a part of that plan. 

Neither had your absolute obsession with football. Specifically, your obsession with English football. 

But your parents had taken it in stride and were far more accepting than you had any right to believe they would be. They were supportive even after they found out you preferred the fairer sex, and they absolutely adored the women who had stolen your heart.

You happened to adore them too. 

Well, something stronger than adore. 

You would do anything for them. 

They made you willing to break all of the carefully constructed rules you had grown up with. They made you forget the weight of responsibility that had been balanced on your shoulders since your coronation date was set the day you turned 16. 

They treated you like Y/n instead of Her Majesty the heir to the throne. They made you feel normal. 

It killed you that you couldn’t be… open with your relationship. That having the world know would put them in the firing line. 

You sighed, leaning back into the leather seat as the SUV slowed, turning in front of the Emirates. The dark window tint blocked out the flashing lights, and the thousands of pounds of armor plating dulled the chanting from the throngs of people. The little flags on the cars in your motorcade told them all who was inside, even if they didn’t know which of the 4 cars you were in. 

You shifted, tugging at the hem of your jersey. “Do you think we’ll make it in time for warmups?”

The new material was still tight on your skin, so much different than the cotton dress shirts you normally wore, and the two little names above your favorite number felt unnaturally… weighted. 

They were in a way. As soon as a photographer caught a picture of them, your secret would be out. 

“I’ve sent a team ahead to clear your entrance and the box you’ll be staying in, so as long as we can get through this crowd we should make it,” Davis said, glancing up at you in the rearview mirror. “I know they’re your favorite part,”

You hummed, glancing back out of the darkened windows at the masses of people dressed in white and red. 

A part of you envied them. 

You would never be able to walk into a stadium through its entrance. You would never get to see the mural of the team that existed in the main hall of the Emirates. You would never get to sit in the supporters section, surrounded by the various chants. 

The other, larger part knew how much you despised being surrounded by people. How claustrophobic it made you feel, and how hard it made it for you to breathe.

But you still wondered if it would be different if those people weren’t carrying cameras and screaming for your attention. You wondered if watching your girlfriends do the things they loved would negate how incredibly uncomfortable you got when people were too close. 

“It just completes the whole experience,” You mumbled into the glass. 

Davis made a noise of agreement. “Yes, it does,”

He knew that one of the reasons you loved it so much was because it gave you time to not have to think. To just exist in a space where you weren’t the air to the throne. Where all that mattered was what was happening in front of you. 

You didn’t have to say it for him to know. 

He could read you like a book. He had experienced every day of your life with you. He acted more like a father than your own father did, and you trusted him implicitly. 

The car inched forward, past another gaggle of people holding their phones up to video the caravan.

“We might have to go with plan b if Her Majesty wishes to see the warmups,” Your driver said more to Davis than to you.“There’s an obstruction ahead,”

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together as the car crawled forward through the growing crowd. 

Your head of security made a gruff sound, already lifting his phone and speaking rapidly into the receiver. 

You barely paid attention to what he was saying. It didn’t really matter anyway. 

You knew he would explain when they had a plan, just like he had always done before. 

The car came to a stop, and men dressed in bright yellow jackets came pouring out of an entrance you hadn’t recognized, forming a human tunnel. 

Davis turned in his seat to face you. 

“We’re going to go in a different entrance. I’ll guide you, Gabriel and Tomas will flank us,” He explained. “It’s 16 steps to the door. Stadium security will make sure that they’re unobstructed,”

You hummed. “Will you cover my back?”

It wasn’t that you were ashamed to wear your Loves names. 

It actually made you incredibly proud and had a warmth blooming in your chest that was hard to explain. 

But you weren’t quite ready to share that with the world yet. 

You wanted to protect them from your world for as long as you could. To prevent the people who didn’t agree with your family’s policies from hurting them to get to you. 

“My jacket will block you,” Davis assured you, understanding glinting in his eyes. “We’re ready whenever you are,” 

You leaned back into the leather seat, glancing at the little walkway that had been created. Fans pressed against it, and you could imagine the wall of sound that would meet you. 

You flipped your sunglasses down over your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” 

“I’ll get out and open your door,” Your security chief said, reiterating the protocol you always followed when you had to exit your car in a crowd. 

You nodded, never looking away from the window. 

You took a deep breath when the car door opened, letting in the onslaught of screams and cheers. They only got louder when Davis opened your door and held his hand out to help you out of the car. 

He shielded you as soon as your feet were both on the ground, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, directly blocking the names on your back. 

You tucked your face into his chest, closing your eyes at the roar of squeals and cheers that met you. 

You never did like crowds. 

You felt Tomas take up your other side and counted down the steps in your head as they guided you through the crowd. You didn’t look up at the calls of your name, or the blinding flashes of light, or the jostling that your security tried to protect you from. 

This was routine. 

The press didn’t pay for photos when your face wasn’t clearly visible. 

You let out a long breath when the entrance doors closed solidly behind you. 

“It’s over little commander,” Your burly chief of security mumbled into your hair when you didn’t immediately begin to untangle yourself from him, running his hand up and down your back. 

You really didn’t like crowds. 

You sucked in another long breath before carefully pulling away from him. 

“Thank you,” You said, straightening your hair and jersey. Smiling just a bit at the name he had given you after an incident involving your country’s general and an assassin when you were five. 

“I don’t think anyone caught a photo of your jersey, your majesty. The Captain's jacket was covering the lettering,” Gabriel added, glancing out the glass doors. “Though I think it’ll be harder to hide if we leave with guests. We’ll also need extra security,” 

It made you sigh. 

Gabriel was not a bad person, but he was young, and far too serious all of the time. 

He hadn’t learned that you didn’t need to know all of the inner workings of their operation yet, or that you were the one who would dictate what you wanted. 

You hadn’t even decided if your girlfriends would be leaving with you yet, and when you did, Davis would work it out. 

He always figured it out. 

“We’ll cross that bridge later,” Davis said, glaring at the younger guard (they would pull the SUV on the fucking field if that’s what it took), before his eyes returned to you, softening. “First, I believe your attendant is waiting to scan your ticket,”

Your eyes lit up at the prospect, looking past your burly squad towards a very shy looking girl. 

“I can scan you in,” The girl's voice shook as she spoke, her eyes darting towards your guards before meeting yours again. “Your majesty,” 

You rolled your eyes at the title. 

You hated it as much now as you had when you first learned you would be your fathers successor. As much as when people started using when you were 16 and your coordination date was set for the day you turned 22. 

Davis passed you a paper ticket and nudged you forward. 

It was a superfluous detail that your girlfriends had teased you mercilessly about. 

No one used paper tickets anymore, they said. Everything was mobile, not that you had ever needed an actual ticket. 

You stepped towards the girl, holding out the ticket with a grin. 

She very gently took it, running it under the little scanner. You walked past her after it beeped. 

It was nice to get the full experience, even if it was a bit outdated. 

“We’ll take that back,” Davis said, as the girl turned to throw the scrap of paper away. 

He reached for the ticket, tucking it into his jacket for safe keeping. 

“To the box little commander?” He asked you directly, stepping past the girl. 

You shook your head, a smirk playing at your lips. “I think a little… exploration is in order first. Especially since we’ve never come into the stadium this way before,” 

“Lead the way then,” He matched your smirk, gesturing for you to head down the hallway. “The mural you’re obsessed with is to the left,” 

Your eyes brightened again and you looked down the hallway he had gestured to. 

You would definitely have to check it out before warmups started. 

******

Alessia and Leah were… distracted, even as they passed the ball back and forth. 

Warmups had barely started and they couldn’t help the way their eyes kept falling to the box now occupied by a tall, bald man in a well-tailored suit, his aviators reflecting the field back at them. 

They should have expected it. Tomas was always the first of your personal team to arrive to a location, but usually, you followed closely behind him. 

“The queen has arrived,” Millie chuckled, intercepting the ball Leah had passed towards  Alessia. 

“She’s not queen yet,” Alessia huffed.

“How could I forget? The coronation isn’t for 2 more months,” Millie said, waving her arm dramatically. 

Leah rolled her eyes. “3 more months, actually,”

“And Y/n isn’t exactly counting down the days,” Alessia added, stealing the ball back. “She doesn’t seem too keen on the title,”

“I’m not surprised,” Ella said, catching the ball when Alessia tried to pass it to Leah. “She got mobbed coming into the stadium,”

Leah’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought she was using the player entrance,” 

You had discussed the plan with them in detail during your nightly phone conversation, asking about the location of the locker rooms in relation to the entrance your security wanted you to use. 

They weren’t sure if you intended to surprise them before or after the match, but it didn’t really matter. 

“Apparently not,” Ella said, skirting around the forward's outstretched leg and passing it to Millie. “I saw the clip before we came out here. Looked like they formed a wall of security and then ushered her in the front gate,” 

Leah and Alessia shared a look. 

They knew how much you disliked being in a crowd. 

They could picture you tucked into your security chief’s chest like a small child, trying to hide yourself from the noise of the crowd. It was an image that had been splashed across front pages of newspapers more times than they could (or wanted) to count. It still never failed to break their hearts. 

“I never realized how big her security team was,” Ella mumbled, glancing up at the box again. “Like physically. They’re fucking mountains,” 

More of your team had joined Tomas, all wearing the same black suits and dark aviators, tall, and muscular.

They looked intimidating. Like they could take down any threat that would come at you. 

Neither Alessia nor Leah had any doubt that they would. 

Alessia shrugged. Frankly, they had both been very nervous too until you had actually introduced them to your security. They learned quickly to expect pranks from your security when they weren’t on duty, and that their protectiveness extended to them as well as you when they were. 

Considering all 12 members of your team had given them the shovel talk, they knew you were in very good hands. Hands that looked out for your mental health as well as your physical health. 

“Looks like she only brought half her team,” Leah hummed, counting the men in the suite, noting your missing head of security. He would certainly be wherever you were, and she found it slightly strange you weren’t in the box yet. 

You hated missing warmups. 

But then a group standing near the benches, behind Serina caught her eyes. 

There were 4 tall, burly men surrounded by stadium workers dressed in bright orange vests. 

“Maybe not,” Alessia mumbled, her gaze also falling to the growing crowd behind the benches. “She doesn’t usually try to come down to the field,”

“She’s never had to come through the front door before either,” Leah answered. 

Ella wiggled her eyebrows, shimming between them. “Maybe she wants to do something wild before she has the weight of a country on her back,” 

“She already has that,” Both blonde women said in unison, eyes snapping away from the sea of orange towards the midfielder. 

“She’s had that since her father put her in charge of their trade negotiations,” Alessia added. “And their UK commerce,”

Frankly, you had been taking more and more responsibility for years. Trying to gain the trust of your people so the transition of power was an easy one. A safe one. 

An uncontested one. 

“And she’s been doing a bang-up job,” Leah said, just as Davis appeared in the mix of security next to a blonde man she had never seen before. “She’s actually coming in the field,” 

“You mean we finally get to meet the Queen?” Millie said dramatically, standing on her tiptoes to catch a glimpse of you, the ball forgotten at her feet. 

Alessia slapped her stomach. “You’ve met her before. You tried to get her drunk after our Euros win and convince her to fly the England flag on her father’s palace,”

“Details,” Millie rolled her eyes, shoving the striker. “How can she see through the mass of people though?”

“It’s a special formation,” Leah grumbled, pushing Millie, and stealing the ball they had all disregarded as she moved it forward she saw Davis shift and the flash of a pair of aviators. You were certainly on the field. “Designed so she can see out but no one can see her. They’re trying not to draw attention,” 

Ella snorted. “Well, they failed at that,”

It was true. 

The fans in the stands seemed to be clamoring over themselves to see why there was a substantial crowd near the benches. 

Leah and Alessia shared a look. 

They both knew how much you hated attention. It was why you usually stayed in your box and came in through back entrances. They joked you were like a ghost coming to their games, never seen or heard. 

But this. This was different. 

Before they could respond Geriant clapped his hands, “Alright ladies let’s do some through balls on goal. Lineup,”

Leah tapped him the ball and followed Alessia to the back of the line. 

There would be time later to figure out why you had come down in the field. 

Right now they had to focus on beating Australia, especially if they wanted a good game kiss from you after the game. 

You only kissed winners. 

******

You shifted awkwardly as you leaned against the cool, stone wall outside the locker rooms, playing with the identification lanyard around your neck. 

It wasn’t often that you used your… status to get into areas no fans could. That you finagled your way into the tunnel of the stadium after a game. 

You were much more prone to letting your security whisk you in and out so you weren’t seen and no one knew if you were actually there, but today, you had been feeling bold. 

Well, kind of. 

Davis had been the one to suggest that seeing warmups at field level might be fun if you were going to venture to see the mural. 

You had agreed. 

And he had been right. 

You had gotten to chat with Serina about tactics and formations while getting a close-up view of your girlfriends in action, even if it was just warmups. 

You had gone back up to your fancy box for the game, but couldn’t resist Serina’s invitation to wait for the team in the tunnel after. 

That’s how you ended up here, shifting nervously from foot to foot while the players made their mandatory lap around the field. 

It wasn’t really being in the tunnel that had you on edge. It was that Davis had gone to coordinate your motorcade out of the stadium, and left you with Gabriel. You didn’t feel as… safe with the blonde man, and his seriousness was really starting to set you off. 

You would have to very carefully bring it up with Davis later, though you hated doing anything that could potentially make his job harder. 

“Can you, um, not stand so close please?” you mumbled, as he pressed more closely to you as players from the Australian team started to make their way down the tunnels. “I want to say hello to the players,” 

Gabriel shook his head, standing firmly. “They haven’t been checked through security,”

“They just played a match,” You rolled your eyes, pushing him away from you, trying to create some space. “I doubt any of them are smuggling a weapon between here and the locker room, or have Ill intent,” 

They were your friends. People, your girlfriends played with every day. People you had spent a lot of time with. People who saw you as a person and not as a title. They wouldn’t cause you harm. 

“We can’t take that risk, Your Majesty,” Gabriel answered, already pressing back to pin you between his back and the wall, as his head whipped back and forth. 

You shoved him off of you more harshly, stumbling with the force. “I told you to go away. Why don’t you go stand at the front of the tunnel if you’re so worried,” 

You would have face-planted had strong arms not caught you. 

“Whoa there Princess,” Leah’s warm voice chuckled in your ear, using the term of endearment that annoyed you when it came from anyone but your girlfriends. “You only had to fall for me once,”

“Leah,” Your shoulders instantly relaxed at her voice, and you looked up to meet her eyes. “You guys played so well!”

She smiled brilliantly at you, and you leaned up to place a gentle kiss on her lips. 

It only lasted a second before a large hand appeared between you. 

“No physical contact please,” Gabriel said, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “It’s policy,” 

You glared at the side of his face. 

You were definitely going to have to talk to Davis about this. 

“What about me pretty girl?” Alessia asked,  materializing to Gabriel’s right. “Do I not deserve a kiss too?

“You definitely do. That goal was a fucking banger,” You said, pulling away from the defender, and throwing out a foot mocking the way Alessia had smashed the ball. “Lee crossed it in and then woosh,”

You threw your arms out, mimicking the goal celebration that Alessia did. The one that reminded you of an airplane, right into her waiting grasp. 

She leaned forward, brushing your nose with her. “You’re adorable,”

You closed the last millimeter, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. 

She tasted like mint gum, and blue Gatorade, and something so… Alessia. She tasted like home. 

“And you look very fit with our names on your back,” Leah added, running her fingers across the bold letters across your shoulders before she wrapped her arms around the two of you. 

You buried your face in Alessia’s chest to hide the red blooming across your cheeks, earning a giggle from both women. 

“Your majesty, I don't feel comfortable with this situation,” Gabriel said, clearing his throat, and stepping into your space. He leaned down and lowered his voice like he thought it would prevent Leah and Alessia from hearing him.  “We’re in too public of a place. It’s not befitting of the crown,”

You froze, your back going rigid. 

It was one thing for him to not understand personal boundaries. For him to be hyper-vigilant. 

You could chalk that up to his… newness. 

But this. This you could not tolerate. 

Your fingers caught Alessia’s top before she could pull away, forcing her to stay pressed against you, as your other hand reached back to hold Leah’s hip. You didn’t need them to move. You didn’t want them to move. 

You took a deep breath before pulling your face out of Alessia’s chest to stare daggers at the bulky, blonde man. 

“Call for backup,” You said, your voice deadly calm. 

He raised an eyebrow at you. “There’s no need. I have it-“ 

“It wasn’t a request,” You cut him off icily. “Call for backup now, or I will do it myself,” 

He paused at your tone, glancing at the teammates and friends that had been on their way to the locker room, also frozen at the foreign chill in your voice. 

It was the tone you saved for meetings with world leaders you didn’t particularly like. Ones with foreign dignitaries who thought they could walk all over you, your family, and your country. 

He took a step back, lowering his voice like he was talking to a child. “Your majesty, I don’t think this is a proper conversation to have with an audience,” 

You weren’t in the mood to be scolded. 

“And I don’t care what you think,” You bit back, letting go of Leah’s hip to reach up to your necklace, pressing the bottom button hidden on the pendant twice. 

The signal that you needed assistance, but it wasn’t emergent or life-threatening. 

Still, within 30 seconds Tomas was rounding the corner near the locker rooms, speed walking towards you. The crowd of white and yellow jerseys parted for him like he was Mosis. 

You were slightly disappointed it wasn’t Davis, but Tomas would do. 

“Little commander,” He nodded his head in greeting, his eyes flickering across the scene before returning to you. “How can I be of assistance,”

You appreciated that he had addressed you first. 

That he acknowledged that you were the one in control here. 

But Gabriel didn’t seem to get that message. 

“Your presence isn’t needed,” The blonde security man huffed, “Her majesty is throwing a temper tantrum,”

Alessia’s fingers tightened around your hips, and you didn’t have to look at her to see the scowl pulling across her lips. Leah’s arms similarly squeezed around your shoulders and you knew daggers were being thrown his way. 

Had this been any other circumstance you were sure the growing crowd of footballers would have oooed. 

Not that you needed them.

You had this all under control. 

“Take Gabriel to the exit,” You said evenly, command and… dominance, radiating through the simple words. “or to the dumpster or the Thames. I don’t really care but get him away from me. He is relieved of his duty,”

The blonde security man sputtered. “You can’t do that. I’m-“

“Actually I can,” You cut him off. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. Tomas, please remind Gabriel of the terms of his service,”

Tomas cleared his throat, suppressing a grin. “We serve at the pleasure of our charge, Her Majesty, Princess of Braavos, heir to the throne,”

Your chest puffed a bit at your full title. 

One you generally despised, but it served its purpose here. 

“And you certainly have not… pleasured me. Not that you’re capable,” Your lips turned upwards in a cruel smirk, as Alessia and Leah, and the surrounding crowd didn’t hold in their giggles. “Perhaps you should work on your listening, and little things called consent and common sense,”

“Let’s go,” Tomas caught Gabriel’s arms before he could protest or argue with you, not that there was anything he could say. The taller, balder security man made eye contact with you before he hauled Gabriel away. “Davis and Matthew will be by shortly. I’ve left Carson at the top of the tunnel and I’ll have him perform personal security until they arrive,”

You sent him a stiff nod, standing at your full height until they were out of sight before you let yourself collapse back into Alessia. 

You would never. Could never truly be alone. 

“I fucking hate doing that,” You groaned into her chest, and Leah leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of your neck.

“We know love,” The defender hummed into your soft skin, and Alessia made a sound of agreement, shooing the crowd of football players around you to go about their way.  

“But on the bright side, you did look proper sexy,” Alessia said, gently pinching the skin just beneath the hem of your jersey. “Her Majesty, Princess of Braavos, heir to the throne,”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bugged from your lips at her terrible rendition of Tomas’ heavy accent. The one you worked incredibly hard to suppress.

It had come out slightly in the exchange, the only indicator that English was not your first language. 

It was something that happened when you were annoyed, which was rare in itself. You didn’t like to wield your power, and thankfully, you usually didn’t have to in your personal life. 

“For a second I thought you were going to yell at him in Valyrian,” Leah said, her lips working from the back of your neck up to just behind your ear. 

You hummed. “I try not to do that in mixed company,” 

Despite how much you had pushed against the mold of your upbringing, your impeccable manners could not be changed. 

Plus you knew how much Leah and Alessia loved when you spoke in your native language. How… wound up… it made them. You didn’t want to associate your annoyance with that. Ever. 

Alessia smirked. “So he can’t pleasure you?” 

You rolled your eyes at the change in subject. 

“No. He was only on my team for 3 days, and I wanted to strangle him for most of it,” Your lips pulled up in an impish smirk. “Plus I could tell that he’s never given out a feminominon in his fucking life,” 

Leah mirrored the expression against your neck, and Alessia’s eyes sparkled.

“I think we could definitely show you what we know about feminominons,” Leah said, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear. 

 “Would you like to shower with us?”Alessia’s thumb ran over the skin just above your pants. “We promise we won’t bite, “

“Unless you ask nicely,” Leah finished, her teeth grazing over the wet skin she had just kissed. 

It was sometimes scary how they could finish each other's thoughts, though you weren’t convinced that this had been their endgame all along. 

You melted into them, the rest of your annoyance fading. 

“I would love nothing more,” 

They nodded at Carson as they dragged you towards the locker room, the shorter, muscular man shifting to stand by the door, already talking into his earpiece. 

You just needed some time with your girls. 

It’s what you wanted and the security team would respect that and leave you undisturbed. 

They served at your pleasure after all, and so did your girlfriends apparently. 

Well, at least at the moment, they would serve to pleasure you. 

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Zombie + Restoration Hobbyist Reader Blurb

-

"Blink once if you can hear me."

It calls to them from the darkness - a voice melancholic yet strangely robotic in its application. It's familiar - like something they've heard in a dream. They can't move. Their arms feel as though they're pinned beneath boulders. Their legs feel weightless. The place in their mouth were their tongue sat felt dry and... exposed. Left with no other choice, their eyelids flicker upwards. The flesh over their right eye feels to be constructed of foreign tissue - metal scrapping over the weight in the socket where their eye once was. The image of the figure standing over them is fleeting, lips pulled thin in an expression of approval.

"Blink twice."

Their eyes flutter open for a second time - remaining there as two finger pry apart the lids of their still functioning eye.

"Good. It's fortunate that you are still able to hear. At the moment, my fixes are merely cosmetic so I'm afraid you won't be able to see out of that eye of yours for some time. If you are like other patients I've had the issue will work out on its own."

Their eye rolls idly in their head - struggling to make out any features of the person through the blazing lights overhead.

"You must have questions. Forgive me- I wasn't expecting you to wake up before I had time to work on your jaw. Please use this to communicate if you wish, you can ask me anything."

Function to their left hand returns - their wrist raw and lacking the binding weight shacking it in place. Restraints? Smooth plastic rolls beneath their fingertip as they flex the stiff joints of their digits. Their fingers trace out the rectangular shape of the keyboard's space bar. Gliding gracelessly over the keys, a hand helps stabilize their moments as they begin to type. A computer monitor awakens from its sleep as words pop up on its screen.

"Where am I?"

A common question. "You are in my workplace. I repair things from time to time to keep myself busy. I found you in a creek nearby during a stroll the other night. Thankfully, you hadn't been in there long or I would've had to replace more than the skin of your eye."

Their hand draws up to their eye, feeling the odd texture over their eye. It's felt.

"I hate to bring up any bad memories from the past, but I need to ask in order to provide you with the care you require. Do you remember anything from the day you died?"

Died?... That's... honestly not the most surprising thing about this ordeal. A stabbing pain blisters at the back of their mind as they try to remember. A boat. A shotgun. Laughter. Tears. Please, no. It's not funny just put it down. Please. please-

"Boating trip. They said if I tagged along I could finally be apart of their group. I thought I could trust them. They said they were my friends. They said"

Their body lurches forward - fighting against the bite of their bonds. It hurts. It hurts so much. Why are they still here? Garbble wails ricochet off the bedroom walls. In their time of misery, another memory rushes to the forefront of their mind. Their body convulsing on an operating table. The gentle hushes of another as they pet back their hair - drying blackened tears from the corners of their eyes. A compassionate hand from the world that had abandoned them when they needed someone most.

"Hold me."

"What?"

"I remember.. Arms around me. A voice calling out to me. Promising me everything would be okay. That was you - right? Hold me. I don't want to be alone. Please, don't let me be alone anymore."

The hobbyist removes the glove from their dominant hand, wiping the leathery flesh were thick, congealing tears pool. You pull your newest patient closer - mindful of their stitches as you rub small circles along their spine.

"You can stay here as long as you like. While I'm not the most social person, I can't turn away someone who needs my assistance."

Their sobs are reduced to small whimpers as they cling into you - dying your apron in various fluids as their arm locks around your midsection in a vice grip. You grab onto their other wrist, preventing them from wrestling it out of their chains leaving you with more work in the future if their skin were to tear.

"I know this is a lot for you, but please try not to damage yourself further."

Their arm drops from your waist - fingers flying over the keyboard on a flurry.

"What's your name?"

"My name?... You can just call me Y/n."

[blqstar]

: ̗̀➛ K. BAKUGO | PERSIAN RUGS

» [summary] ── you get a phone call from your old best friend Bakugo and end up doing more than just catching up.

cw: (2.7k) x black fem reader, p in v, this is my first time writin a fic so bear with me if its not particularly the best😭 (would love constructive criticism though), swearing, not proofread ngl

Low, honey-colored lights finely lit the room as you look into the tavern. Sultry jazz music reverberates throughout the space, as people gather around the bar. Men and women dressed elegantly sit in the red leather booths, engaging in long, meaningless conversations. Glasses clink, drinks being passed around to the folks circling the lounge. You walked into the bar, the familiar sounds you haven’t heard in so long washing over you like a warm wave.

You never thought you would come back here despite all the memories you’ve had under this roof. However, an unexpected call from your phone ultimately led you right back here. Where you and your old best friend first met.

You vaguely remember him sitting in one of the booths by the bar, slightly drunk from the number of drinks he gulped down since he’d been there. It was a funny interaction, to be quite honest. You didn’t know how famous he was at the time but you recalled his spiky hair and his scarlet eyes and knew that he went to the same high school as you.

You sat down and tried to talk to him but he started blabbering on about himself and bragging about how he would be the #1 pro-hero in Japan. You knew him to always be like this, never fraying from his goals.

His name was Katsuki Bakugo. A man with a fiery temperament, undeniable strength, and fierce loyalty to all who were lucky to be his friends. And surprisingly, you were one of them. Honestly, the closest friend to him to say the least.

You had an unbreakable bond, a friendship forged in the fires of shared feelings and unyielding support. You both connected on such a deep level that the magnifying connection could never disappear.

You spent countless hours talking to each other, ranting about meaningless things. Late-night calls and conversations happened frequently between the two of you, staying up till the crack of dawn just to listen to each other’s voices and hear the stories that happened over the day during your time away from each other.

But little by little as time went by, those calls soon turned into texts, and later, texts turned into absolutely nothing. You knew Kats had a lot on his plate, quite aware that he was one of the most famous pro-heroes in Japan now. But it still hurt a little that he wasn’t texting or calling as much as he used to. It felt like you both were just drifting away from each other. Until a few hours ago, you got a phone call from him.

“Hey, Kats. What’s up?” Your heart thumped when you heard his voice, hearing him let out a slight sigh. You hear people talking and glasses clinking in the background before he speaks again. You sensed a feeling of anxiousness from him but you let it be, only curious about what he was calling you for at such a late hour.

“Hey. You busy right now by any chance?” You’re surprised by his question.

“No, not really. What’s up?”

You audibly hear him clear his throat. “I was thinking…remember that bar where we first met? The one where I was drunk as a lord?”

“Oh, of course. How could I forget, ‘future #1 pro-hero’?” You answer, letting out a little giggle. Katsuki grumbles quietly, “You know I didn’t mean to say that out loud—shut up! Anyway, I was thinking maybe you should come by.”

You gasp sarcastically. “Are you actually inviting me to hang out? This is new for you, Kats.”

Katsuki stutters slightly, sounding a bit flustered. “Don’t get any weird ideas! It’s just…I haven’t seen you in a while, and I figured it’d be nice to catch up.”

Your heart started to beat faster at his response, feeling your face getting warm to the touch. You can’t deny, you had feelings for the man but you could never tell him that. He already has lots of tasks to do. For him to pursue a relationship with you would be a one-in-a-million occurrence, especially with how much fame he’s gotten now. Nevertheless, you digress.

You give him a soft chuckle. “I’d love to catch up with you, Kats. What time should I be there?”

“Just…whenever. I’ll be here. Just don’t take forever, alright?” Katsuki replies, a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Okay, okay! I’ll be there soon. See you.”

…

You made your way to the bar, ordering a drink while glancing around. Your heart raced a little at the thought of seeing him again, your feelings for him rekindling like embers that had never truly died out. The last time you were together had been a welcome filled with unresolved feelings—now, here you were, not knowing if you were seeking to get a long-lasting friendship back or perhaps something more.

As if summoned by your thoughts, he appeared. Katsuki, with his signature spiky blonde hair and those fiery red eyes, looked just as intense as ever. Dressed casually in a fitted black shirt and jeans, he exuded confidence, but there was a softness in his gaze when he spotted you.

His eyes went from studying your face to looking at your body, looking at the orange dress you had on. The way it fits your curves so perfectly made his cheeks go red. You even had his color on too. He gulped and realized he was staring a little bit too long and his expression flickered to a genuine smile, disguising his admiration toward you.

"There you are, finally decided to show up, huh?" he said, crossing the space between you with that familiar swagger you remembered so well.

You chuckled, trying to hide the butterflies in your stomach. "I couldn't resist the call of the infamous Katsuki Bakugo."

He scoffed, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Whatever. You just missed my last explosion. Would have impressed you."

You took a sip of your drink, feeling a rush of warmth as he leaned against the bar, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. "I've seen enough explosions for a lifetime, but it’s nice to see you again. How’ve you been?"

The conversation flowed naturally, with laughter and teasing remarks exchanged like old times. As the minutes turned into hours, the noise of the bar faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared history. However, an undeniable tension started to hang in the air, thickening with every glance, every lingering touch.

As Katsuki continued to talk to you, he brushed his fingers against yours while he spoke, a spark igniting where he touched. Your heart raced with the accidental contact, the proximity between you becoming closer and closer.

This is when you take a really good look at your best friend. His fitted black top clings to his muscled frame, accentuating the curves of his biceps and the hard line of his shoulders. The fabric is cut just low enough to reveal a teasing hint of his toned abdomen, each subtle movement highlighting the power beneath his skin.

His voice fades out as you drool over his physique. Within seconds, you zone back in as he calls your name, eyes focused on his face now.

“S-sorry, what’d you say?” Katsuki stares at you, aware of your reverence for his body. He smiles slyly at you. He feels the tension as much as you do, his eyes in a haze as he starts to speak.

“Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, “are you doing anything later?”

Your breath hitches. “Not at all. Why?”

His eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching. “What do we say we get out of here? My place is nearby, and I…I don’t know, I just feel like talking somewhere a bit more private?”

Your pulse quickened at his invitation. You felt a thrill of excitement course through you and without thinking too much about it, you nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

…

The air outside was cooler, the summer night alive with the sounds of distant traffic and the chirping of crickets. Katsuki led the way, his pace brisk and confident. You walked beside him, heart hammering as the anticipation built within you. What would happen next? Would the tension that had been brewing all night simmer over into something more?

When you arrived at his apartment, he opened the door with a casual ease, stepping aside to let you in. The space was cluttered but cozy, with a few mementos from his UA days scattered around, remnants of the determined hero you had known and admired.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, tossing his keys onto the small table by the door, then heading to grab something to drink. You took a moment to soak in the nostalgia before following him to the kitchen.

As you leaned against the counter, he poured a glass of wine and handed it to you, the heat of his presence growing palpable. You could feel the weight of his gaze as he watched you drink from the chalice, and for a moment, the silence stretched between you—a heavy, pregnant pause charged with unspoken desires.

“Katsuki…” you started, unsure of what to say or how to breach the growing tension.

“Just… let’s not pretend,” he interrupted, closing the distance between you, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. “We both feel it. This is more than just catching up.”

Your breath caught as he stepped closer, the heat radiating off him enveloping you.

You stare into his piercing orbs. There was a fierce intensity in his eyes as he searched yours for confirmation of your unspoken feelings.

“I know,” you replied softly, your heart racing. “I’ve always felt it.”

He moved even closer, pushing you against the counter. He shifts to the side of your face and puts his lips close to your ear.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” He whispers, his voice low and raspier than before. You press your legs together, warmth building up in your lower region.

“I-”

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a fierce kiss, igniting a fire within you. His lips were warm, and demanding, sending sparks shooting through your veins. You melted against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Katsuki deepened the kiss, his hands roaming your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was everything you had imagined and more—intense, passionate, and primal. You could feel the heat radiating off him, matching the storm brewing inside you.

You moan into his mouth, your hands tangling in his spiky hair as he explores your mouth with his tongue.

Katsuki's hands roam down your body, cupping your breasts through your dress. He squeezes them gently, his thumbs brushing against your hardening nipples. You gasp at the contact, your hands moving down to grip his firm ass, pulling him against you.

"I want you," he growls against your mouth, his breath hot on your skin. "I've wanted you since the moment we met."

You look at him in surprise. You then smile against his lips, your body buzzing with desire. "Then what are you waiting for?" you whisper, biting his lower lip playfully.

Katsuki growls in response, picking you up in his strong arms and carrying you towards the bedroom. He kicks the door open, laying you down gently on the soft bed. You watch as he strips off his shirt, your eyes roaming over his well-defined chest and abs. He kicks off his shoes and removes his pants, leaving him standing before you in nothing but his boxers.

You sit up, your hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. You slide it down slowly, revealing your curves inch by inch, enjoying the hungry look in Katsuki's eyes as he takes in the view. You slip the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your lacy red bra and panties.

Katsuki's eyes darken even further as he takes in your near-naked form. "So fucking beautiful, mama" he breathes, climbing onto the bed to join you. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss as his hands roam down your body. He cups your ass, squeezing it gently before hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties and sliding them down your legs.

You shift, helping him remove your panties, your eyes never leaving his. Katsuki sits back on his heels, his gaze burning as he takes in the view of your wet pussy. "She’s so fucking pretty, ma," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

You feel your face warm up at his compliment and nod, lust taking over you. He lowers and bites your inner thigh, licking at the mark afterward. A low moan bubbles in your throat when his tongue starts lapping at your entrance to your clit. “Fuck, Katsu.”

Your legs tremble as one hand pins your hips down to the bed, the other hand spreading your thighs to accommodate his broad shoulders. He eats you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have. His plump lips wrap around your throbbing clit as he sucks harshly, making you keen.

You felt the knot in your stomach appear and before you could come undone, he stops and hoists his head up from your pussy. You whine at the loss of friction. Katsuki lifts his hips, sliding down his boxers, his hard length springing free. You bite your lip as you take in the sight of his thick, erect cock, your pussy growing more wet at the thought of feeling him inside you.

"Your turn to get comfortable," you purr, pushing him gently onto his back. You straddle his waist, your hands roaming over his broad chest. You lean down as you kiss him deeply. Katsuki groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as you begin to grind against him, your wet core brushing against his shaft.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he gasps, his head falling back as you continue to move against him. You reach between your bodies, guiding his cock to your entrance. You tease him, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit before sinking down slowly, impaling yourself on his length.

Katsuki hisses at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You're so tight," he grunts, his eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the feeling of being encased in your warmth.

You bite your lip at the stretching sensation, slowly lifting yourself up and down on his cock, getting used to his size. Katsuki opens his eyes, watching you ride him with a hungry look. "That's it, fuck yourself on my cock," he growls, his hands gripping your ass, helping you move.

You moan, picking up the pace as you bounce on his lap. Your breasts bounce with each movement, your sensitive nipples grazing his chest with every downward motion. Katsuki sits up, his mouth latching onto one taut peak as he sucks and nibbles gently.

"Oh God, Katsuki!" you cry out, your head falling back as pleasure washes over you. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Katsuki smirks against your skin, speeding up his thrusts as he meets your movements. His cock slides in and out of your tight pussy, the wet sounds of his hips meeting filling the room. "You like that, huh?" he teases, his free hand moving down to rub your clit in circles.

"Yes! Oh yes, right there!" you cry out, your body trembling on the edge. "I'm so close, please don't stop!"

Katsuki growls, his mouth claiming yours in a passionate kiss as he increases the pressure on your clit. You cry out into his mouth as your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure ripple through you. Katsuki continues to thrust into you through your climax, his own approaching fast.

"Cum for me, baby," he grunts, his eyes locked on yours. "Let me feel you tighten around my cock."

You whimper, your sensitive walls clenching around him as your orgasm continues to wash over you. Katsuki groans, his hips stuttering as he reaches his own climax. "Fuck, I'm cumming!" he roars, his body tensing as he fills you with his hot release.

You collapse against him, both your bodies sticky with sweat as you try to catch your breath. Katsuki hugs you tight, pulling you into his embrace.

“Hey,” he starts. “Y’know I like you too, right?”

[decojellyfish]

Hatchling.

Hi guys! Sorry it’s been a bit. I’ve been busy! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, and feel free to request anything!

——————

Dragon! Price x Baby Dragon! Reader x Werewolf! Soap (And a little bit of the whole hybrid crew :))

!!No Romance For Obvious Reasons!!

Angsty Fluff

Warnings: Death via gunshots

───♡───────────── Beginning

It all started when Price found an abandoned egg on a mission. It must’ve fallen out of the nest, or perhaps the mother must’ve left it behind to protect it from predators or hunters. But he took the egg, holding it protectively with one burly arm while the other held a gun to keep both him and the egg as he retreated to the helo.

His task force members were screaming for him to hurry up, their faces having a tinge of confusion at the sight of their captain with a giant splotchy egg that seemingly appeared out of the blue.

“I had to.”

Was all Price said as he got settled into his seat, the egg resting in his lap with both his clawed hands holding it in place.

With this sudden, out-of-the-blue, parental instinct that Price had when it came to this mysterious egg, he was put on indefinite leave. He spoke about how it was a dragon egg, and that he couldn’t leave it behind. Not without a parent.

Now, here Price was. The egg was in a makeshift incubator, under a heating lamp, and cradled into a pile of neatly folded blankets.

He was in his foldout chair, reading a book, right next to the incubator. He would glance at the egg from time to time, wondering if he heard the little dragon inside of it shift around. He would even just have one of his hands rest a top of the egg, thumb gently stroking at the shell. He could faintly feel a little heartbeat inside of it.

It made him smile.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price’s mates visited from time to time, checking up on the egg, checking on him as well. It was still strange how Price suddenly wanted to become a dad and with someone else’s abandoned baby too.

Gaz, being a harpy, would sometimes bond with Price over the fact that both of their kinds laid eggs. Gaz would share tips on what his parents did with him while he was a little bird, and Price would share stories of what he was like when he first hatched.

Soap was fascinated by the egg, his ears perking up whenever he watched it move slightly. He would bark at Price in excitement, “Price!! It moved! It’s gon’ae hatch!!” His tail violently wagged as he watched.

“Nope, little one’s got a few more weeks, Soap.” Price chuckled as he walked over to his comrade.

But for now, it was just Price and the egg in this moment. On this day, when it happened. You hatched.

It was a few days after your estimated hatch date, so Price was extra alert. He was walking out of his bedroom, he had woken up not even 5 minutes ago when he heard a tiny crack, and then a little rustle. Before he heard a faint, muffled, and quiet chirp.

He snapped wide awake and practically ran over to the incubator. A tiny crack had appeared and it was slowly growing. He didn’t want to interfere, you had to hatch on your own unless there were complications.

“C’mon, little one… c’mon, you can do it…” he whispered as he watched the egg wiggle and move about as you began your journey of entering the world.

The crack got bigger and bigger, branching off into other cracks all over the egg before your little fist finally punched out of the egg. Price nearly grinned from ear to ear at the sight, and waited for the rest to come.

Then the rest of your arm was pushed out, then your two feet kicked a good portion of the egg off of you. And that’s when you really began to wiggle and squirm about to get that damn egg off of you!

Price chuckled at the sight of your kicking legs and flailing tail as you tried to get the rest of the egg off of your upper body. Soon, you tore the eggshell away from yourself and you revealed yourself to the new world around you. Covered in membranes, blood, and other fluids that your egg held throughout your development. Now, Price took this moment to gaze at what a perfect little dragon you were.

You were scaly, like him, only your scales were a shade of coral red. Your tiny wings, still folded into your back, had little talons at the tips. Your horns were tiny, so tiny, barely budding out of your head from your slimy skin. You lay there, curled up and exhausted from the exercise you had to endure. Your eyes closed, and your tail tucked in around your body.

He stared at you for a bit, mesmerized. You were a beautiful baby, peaceful and comforted by the soft blankets and warmth of your heating lamp.

Price would reach for you, gently taking your little frame into his large, calloused hands. You squeaked at the sudden feeling of his sandpaper-like fingers. But as he pulled you to his chest, keeping you curled up and tucked away into his big arms, you adjusted yourself to the new source of warmth.

A little purr left your throat, your heartbeat syncing up to the one that held you. You accustomed yourself to the smell, the scent of protection, warmth, and safety. Your father.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It had been a few years now, you were still tiny but were now able to toddle around. Which meant you were able to follow your father around wherever he went in the house.

Price would be in the laundry room, unloading the dryer when he would feel a pair of tiny, chubby hands grasp at his tail followed by the sound of your sweet giggles. Or if he was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for that night, he would eventually feel your tiny form hugging his calf. He had grown accustomed to this, it meant you wanted to be held.

As you had grown, so did your wings, tail, and horns. Your horns were slightly curling back toward your head, kind of like a ram, and you had gotten into the habit of incessantly flapping your wings as you tried to fly. To no success.

But your father would always hype you up whenever he saw you doing it, cheering for you even if you weren’t able to lift yourself off the ground even a little bit.

“Maybe next time, sweetpea. I know you can do it.”

His mates loved visiting even more now after you’d hatched. Soap would playfully chase you through the halls of the house, letting you pet and hug his fluffy tail. Gaz would try and teach you to fly, desperately trying to get you to watch him as he flapped his wings. Only for you to get distracted with something else and immediately toddle off to get a closer look.

Even Ghost liked being around you. He would hold you and pretend that you were flying around, calling you a ‘little chopper’. He would even tolerate you being a curious little one, who would tug his mask off and put it on your head. Only for it to be way too big and completely hide your face.

With you being a little more grown than when you were a fresh hatchling, that meant that Price was able to return to service. He had a nanny already in place for you, and of course, you loved her. She was Price’s neighbor from across the street, she was a harpy. That also meant that you would still get your flying lessons in while he was away.

When he was testing the waters with you and the nanny, he was more worried about being away than you were. He would only return to service for a week or two, small missions, just to make sure he could come back home to you as fast as possible.

Every time he returned home, he would find you playing with the nanny or sleeping on the couch. Either way, when you saw him after he returned home, you would squeal loudly and run up to him and nonverbally beg for a hug. In which he would happily oblige, holding you tight and petting your little head.

After a few months, getting the routine down of being away for a bit and returning to your smiling face, knowing you were safe and sound, Price began to go on longer missions, mostly lasting for a month or two.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Gunshots rang out throughout the battlefield, with no intention of stopping. Price ducking for cover behind a cracked, decaying wall. Moss beginning to grow on it from the floor, tiny white flowers blossoming from it. He looked at it, a smile flashing upon his face as it reminded him of you. That smile was quickly wiped off of his face when he heard a few members of the enemy team approaching. He held his gun near his chest, ready to fire.

He eventually turned around the corner and began to fire at the men, his teeth grinding against each other in his closed mouth. He didn’t stop firing until they dropped to the ground, dead, despite the sudden throbbing pain in his chest and abdomen.

Once he knew they were dead, he was finally able to feel the pain in full force. He dropped to his knees and leaned up against the wall he was previously hiding behind. His hands clutched at the areas he felt the pain, only for him to pull his hands away and see the blood that coated his gloves.

He had been shot in the stomach and chest. Close to his heart, too.

He reached for his radio, desperately calling for any of his men or a medic, his other hand clutching at one of the bullet holes in his abdomen. He let go of his radio and used the other hand to put pressure on the hole in his chest. He tried to control his breathing, feeling like his entire body was on fire.

Soon rapid footsteps could be heard approaching, and a familiar werewolf entered Price’s line of sight.

“Price! Price! Holy shit, don’t die on me, you bastard!” Soap barked at him as he dropped down to his knees to try and help him.

He held him in his arms, barking out into the field for any kind of help.

Soap looked down at him, seeing Price’s eyes grow tired and weak, similar to his breath which was short. The dragon reached a shaky hand up and gripped at Soap’s arm.

“Y-You… take- care of my- gh…my little one…that’s an-… order…” he choked out, blood filling his lungs with every second.

“N-No, I can’t! They- they need you! I’m no dragon!” Soap tried to control the shake in his voice, but the burning lump in his throat made it near impossible.

“Soap… ‘m not gonna make it…Soap… y-you… and the boys… t-take care of them…o-…okay…?” Price coughed, a bit of blood spitting up from his mouth and onto his tactical vest.

Soap stared down at him, trying everything he could to blink back his tears before he slowly began to nod. “Yes, sir… I’ll make sure the wee one never forgets their papa either…” he said through sniffles.

Price would smile, weakly, before a long, breathy exhale left his throat and he slowly went limp.

“Price? Price?? John!?” Soap called out to the lifeless captain that rested in his arms. It was then that Ghost and Gaz were finally able to get to Price’s spot.

Ghost stared at Price’s body, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. Gaz could already feel the tears stinging at his eyes, witnessing the lifeless body of his mentor who was practically a father figure to him in a small sense. He covered his mouth before turning around and holding his head in his hands, muttering small curses under his breath.

Soap would let out a shaky sigh, reaching for his radio.

“Watcher 1, this is Bravo 7-1. Bravo 0-6 is KIA.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Soap never thought he would ever approach Price’s home with such dread. The feeling of horror and anxiety locked into the pit of his stomach as he went up the steps of the front door.

He held his fist up and knocked on the door. His ears would slightly twitch when he heard, on the other side of the door, the sound of tiny footsteps rapidly approaching the door. Followed by more urgent ones, along with the voice of your nanny laughing at your urgentness.

She would open the door, but soon noticed that Price wasn’t there. “Oh, hello. You're one of Price’s friends, right?” Soap would nod before being interrupted by a tiny dragon hopping up and down.

“Untle Johnny!! Untle Johnny!” You called out excitedly, your wings fluttering rapidly to fly up to him. But only lifting yourself up about a centimeter off the ground. He looked down at you and soon slapped a bit smile on his face.

“Agh, look a’ you! Already flyin’??” He chuckled and rubbed your head. Before he looked back up at the nanny, his smile slightly weakened as his voice softened. You didn’t need to hear that your father was dead. Your little ears didn’t deserve such ugly words.

Your nanny’s face turned to one of horror, sadness, and shock. You noticed and soon began to climb up on her to wipe at her eyes. She noticed and held you in her arms.

“Don cry!” You squeaked out, your little hand rubbing at her face. “Why you cry?” She looked at you, a solemn look on her face. Soap looking at you the same way. “Just… some people leave our lives too soon, sweetie.” Your nanny spoke softly, petting at your hair. “Why dey leave?” “‘Cuz it’s their turn to go to heaven.” Soap spoke up. “Tha’s where your daddy is. Heaven.”

Soap knew damn well that Price wouldn’t be in heaven with the atrocities he’s done throughout his military career. But no toddler needs to hear that their father is suddenly in hell for murdering people.

“Will daddy come back?” You asked, blinking your eyelids over your big, innocent eyes. Soap and the nanny glanced at each other, Soap being the one to take a small, sharp inhale.

“No, lil one… when daddy goes to heaven, daddy stays in heaven…” “Why?”

“Because he has to take care of his own mum up there, but that means he can’t stay here… so he sent me, and uncle Simon and uncle Kyle to keep you safe. But, you need to always remember this, lil one…” “What?”

“He loves you. Forever and ever.”

───♡───────────── End

[liberalsarecool]

Heartbreaking that such beautiful humanity, such a beautiful bond, has been dehumanized.

If every mother and daughter has to die in order for a construct to exist, and that construct needs funding, then stop the funding.

You can argue about rights to exist as a political construct. But the right to genocide is not included.

[its-your-mind]

ORV as shitposts 42/???

[Photo ID - 10 cropped screenshots from the ORV manhwa with text post pasted upon them.

The first image shows Kim Dokja wearing his white coat. The text post is by Tumblr user squeakitties. It reads, "*explodes into a shower of gore and when the red mist clears i'm completely fine but wearing a different outfit*"

The second image shows Jung Heewon with a large smile on her face while she points to herself in joy. A translucent Kim Dokja looks at her in shock from the viewer's left. The text post is by deactivated Tumblr user oamisoa. It reads, "I love it when people tell me about me because I have no idea who I am."

The third image is a close-up of Kim Dokja glancing at an indirect message from a constellation. The thought bubble above his head reads, "Looks like someone misread my intentions." Smaller text is on the side of the thought bubble that reads, "Uriel..." The indirect message reads, "[The constellation, Demonic Judge of Fire, is impressed that you are trying to put your fallen friend back on the righteous path.]" The text post is by Tumblr user neroinblack. It reads, "I like to hear their interpretations of the persona that I've shown them."

The fourth image shows Kim Dokja sticking out his tongue while Lee Sungkook and Jung Minseob are staring at a phone in Lee Sungkook's hands in shock. An indirect message is at the top of the image. It reads, "[The constellation, Secretive Plotter, is impressed by your shameless lies.]" The text post is by Tumblr user teaboot. It reads, "construction of the self through the eye of the other."

The fifth image shows Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja staring off toward the viewer. Yoo Joonghyuk is at the bottom left of the image while Kim Dokja is slightly behind him at the top right of the image. Two text post are pasted. The first one is by Tumblr user toastpotent and is above Yoo Joonghyuk and to the left (relative to the viewer) of Kim Dokja. It reads, "hey sweet heart!! hey dear!! *fucking decks you in the face* angel :)" The second text post is by Tumblr user ndiecity. It is to the right of Yoo Joonghyuk and below Kim Dokja's face. It reads, "Psst. Hey. Fucker. *Kisses you* idiot."

The sixth image shows Yoo Sangah holding Kim Dokja's arm in a semi-crowded subway car. Kim Dokja is looking at her in surprise with a speech bubble that reads, "Sorry?" The text post is by Tumblr user heavensickness. It reads, "Do you ever wanna bond with someone so bad you're like 'damn i wish we were knights on a dangerous quest.'"

The seventh image is a close-up of Kim Dokja smiling with his eyes closed. A message from "Junghyeok Yu" via Midday Rendezvous is above his head. It reads, "I'll get you back for hitting me." The text post is by Tumblr user antigonekin. It reads, "my beloathed. my insignificant other. my worstie. my stupid rabbit. my fucked up abhorrent little meow meow."

The eight image shows Kim Dokja wearing a dirty and torn shirt. His hand is outstretched as he smiles. His speech bubble at the bottom of the image is cut off, but what's visible reads, "Give me 5,000." The text post is the fortieth question from a quiz with two answers. The question reads, "I use the force of my personality..." The first answer is selected. It reads, "...to get what I want." The second answer reads, "...to guide others in making the right decisions."

The ninth image shows Kim Dokja staring upwards at a golden ball of light. The text post is by Tumblr user canimuff. It reads, "no offense but i'm literally starving for affection but when people give it to me i can't accept it as valid because i'm worried i've manipulated their perception of me by only portraying myself a certain way and feeling like this portrayal of myself is an imposter and makes me disingenuous and not deserving of the affection they give me."

The final image shows Kim Dokja drawn in a simplified way in the background running off with a sword in hand and a smile on his face. The background of Yoo Joonghyuk's head is in the foreground of the image with an anger symbol drawn on it. A spiky speech bubble under and to the right of him reads, "Why you...!" The text post is two tweets by Twitter user rem ?! @/exercexe. The first tweet reads, "you're in his dms i'm on his nerves." The second tweet is a reply to the first one that reads, "im pissing him off im ruining his day." /End ID]

ID by the incredible @incorrect-web-novels !!!