#fingers are difficult and fingers in perspective is hell

[greasycheese]

Ask and you shall receive, @kat-mp5

If bro looks different it’s cause I used a ref and it always looks different from how I normally draw

[mattsfavoritestar]

JEALOUS, chris sturniolo

synopsis… (inspired by this ask ) or in which you used your gay best friend to piss chris off.

warnings… bestfriend!chris, fwb!chris, jealous!chris, dom!chris, bratty!reader, kinda mean!chris is you squint, mentions of alcohol, degradation, orgasm denial, overstimulation, pussy slapping, finger fucking

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

as soon as you walked into the party, you grabbed a few stares. the lingering looks not only boosted your confidence but also made you laugh a little, considering the fact that one pair of those eyes belonged to chris.

you wouldn’t say you were exclusive with him, more so a best friends who fuck type of situation. but you were the only one for chris. and he sure as hell made sure he was the only one for you. the only problem was, you loved pushing his buttons.

you purposely chose this dress in hopes to catch a few eyes mostly chris’s. you saw a few guys (and girls) watching your every move as if they were waiting on the right time to make a move on you. one guy bravely did. however he wasn’t the type of guy you were looking for.

“holy shit bitch you look hot” daus giggled. he was clearly drunk off his ass, face flushed and pupils blown out. you smiled at him, “believe it or not, it was on purpose this time” you laughed. daus handed you a cup then watched you down in within seconds.

as you both conversed over the shared drinks, a burning glare found its way to the side of your head. you glance towards the direction to see a glimpse of chris nearly crushing the red solo cup in his hand. you shot him a small smirk before pulling daus onto the makeshift dance floor.

you knew chris was watching your body move to the beat of the music. the flashing led lights made everything you did seem way more sexual than needed. granted, you were a little too close to daus. but in chris’s perspective, you were practically grinding on him. his breaking point was when your chest pressed up against daus making your tits pop out a bit.

“chris!” you cried as he roughly yanks his fingers out of your dripping pussy. he’s dragged you to a random bedroom and had you sitting on his lap with your legs wide open. you whined as you bucked your hips at the lost contact before a slap landed on your sensitive cunt.

“good girls get to cum not whores” he calmly says. chris was far from calm. he was fuming. and what better way to take his anger out than denying your orgasm a few times?

a rugged moan fell from your lips as you felt his fingers slowly circle your puffy clit. you felt yourself melt when two fingers entered inside you and curled upward. you slightly rocked your hips in a way to fuck yourself onto him but was stopped by his other hand gripping your waist.

“feels good baby?” he coos in your ear. you bit your lip with a nod as you felt yourself quickly coming to a release. you tried bouncing yourself since chris was going painfully slow but his hand on your waist made it difficult. you were so close but of course he removes his hand fully right when you were almost there.

you huffed before inserting your own fingers and pumping into yourself. you leaned back as you felt a rumble from chris’s chest as he chuckled. “you tryna get yourself off now?” he laughs. you nod as you slightly rolled your hips onto your fingers with a whine.

“chris please-“ you moaned. your fingers just weren’t enough. chris shakes his head. you tried pulling his unoccupied hand closer to your throbbing core but he left it unresponsive, practically limp in your hand. you slightly gotten his index finger inside you along with your own two fingers causing you to let out a strangled moan.

you opened your legs wider as you felt some of your arousal drip out of you. finally you felt yourself coming so close to the edge as you moved your fingers with chris’s singular one while barely being able to rock your hips. stupid of you to think chris would even allow you to cum on your own. he pulled his hand away from you aswell your own fingers, then slapped your cunt. “didn’t i say no?” he says. you whined as you tried getting up. “fine then i’ll just go get someone else to fuck me” you huffed.

you felt chris grab the back of your neck and pull you back so you could meet his eyes. he raised his eyebrow at you as if he was daring you to genuinely get someone else to touch you. chris pulls you into a messy kiss. you felt his fingers re-enter you slowly as you moaned into his mouth.

at first you thought he was going to edge you again but this time he picked up the pace. his long fingers stretched your walls in a way that your own could never. you reached up to the nape of his neck and tugged at his curls. the groan that came from his mouth vibrated your body just enough to finally send you over the edge.

you felt a water like texture shoot out you as your legs shook. you pulled away from chris’s mouth as you tug his hair even more. “c-chris wait.. s’to much!” you cried as he continued with his pace as it grew more brutal.

you felt as if your insides were raw from chris roughly stroking against your gummy walls. “c’mon baby tell me who’s fucking you this good? me or that guy?” he says in a angered tone. one of your hands found its way to his wrist as if your were trying to stop him or slow him down but you made no effort on moving him.

“tell me”he grunts. the wet sounds coming from your cunt was filthy. you could feel yet another orgasm brewing in your stomach. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as loud moans left your throat. it was a good thing that music the was blasting so loud. “y-you chris.. fuck!” you cried.

yet another round of sticky liquid spraying out of your puffy cunt. chris harshly pulls his fingers out then slaps you right on top of it causing you to jerk forward. you didn’t even notice the tears falling down your face from the overwhelming pleasure till it dropped onto your chest. your legs felt like jello as they shook.

“you okay?” chris questioned after he licks his fingers clean from your juices. you nod as your chest rises and falls rapidly. you let out a breathy laugh as you felt yourself relaxing back onto chris’s chest. “what?” he asks.

“that guy i was dancing with was daus”

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Lover Boy

Trying something very new with writing from the male character’s perspective! Let me know what y’all think and if you’d like this reimagined from another perspective!

When I saw them together, I saw red. She made a mistake breaking up with me. And she certainly made the wrong decision to let herself get involved with him. I was pissed when I’d heard he’d asked her out and furious to hear that she’d agreed.

He doesn’t deserve her. He can’t treat her right, he can’t take care of her the way she needs. She needs me. She’s mine and it’s time to remind them both of that.

It wasn’t hard to figure out their date night plans. Not at all difficult to follow her car to their dinner reservation (what kind of man lets the woman drive them to a date). Not a challenge to slip into her car while it was parked outside the restaurant (she never asked for her spare key back). Drugging them was easy, a quick syringe to the neck and they were both out cold before they could understand what happened. I put him in the trunk, tied up nice and secure (and very uncomfortably). Her I move to the passenger seat. I buckled her in, kissed her forehead, and made sure her head was resting just right so her neck wouldn’t cramp during our drive. In an hour, we were in a cabin, deep in the woods, with no one else around to hear the noise that tonight’s events would bring.

I moved her into the house first. Gently, lovingly, carefully. I took my time pulling off each article of clothing. She’d worn the red dress I love and it made me fume that she wore it for another man. But there’s time later to let my anger loose. For now, I tied her down to the bed (our bed). Prop her upper body up so she’s comfortable. Used the softest silk ropes I could find because she deserves the best. I stare down at her beautiful form, running my fingers down her body.

“Soon, you’ll understand that you’re mine again,” I promised.

Next is his turn. I dragged him into the house. Dumped him onto a chair, cut off his clothes, and strapped him down. He gets duct tape and zip ties. Positioned him just right so he gets to see all of her splayed out on the bed.

And now, I wait.

-

She woke up first. I knew she was waking up when her eyebrows got the little crease in between them and she scrunched her nose. That’s how she always wakes up. I watch her eyes slowly blink open, watch her try and move to no avail, watch as panic takes over her mind and fear makes her struggle.

“No honey, don’t struggle, I’d hate to see you hurt yourself.”

Her eyes dart to mine and I can tell she’s pissed.

“What the fuck! What the hell is going on? Why the fuck am I tied up and naked?”

She hadn’t noticed him yet. Good, because all her attention should be in me, like always.

I walk to her and sit at the edge of the bed, running my fingers along her face. She jerks her head away from me but I grab her chin and lean in close.

“I’m reminding you who you belong to. And correcting your behavior,” I say to her before slamming my lips against hers. She tastes just the way I remember and she reacts the way she always did, parting her lips and letting me dominate her mouth.

I groan softly against her and I feel her whimper into my mouth. I pull back and I feel a rush of possession when she instinctively tries to follow me. Her eyes are glazed and I can tell I’m getting to her.

I press my forehead against hers. “You are fucking mine. But clearly you forgot that at some point and now it’s my job to remind you. And teach him a lesson too while I’m here.”

I see the confusion on her face and step back so she can get a good eyeful of her date, naked and strapped to the chair.

She gasps, “What the actual fuck? You’re crazy, that’s why I broke up with you!”

I laugh as I step back towards her date. “You love my crazy, don’t try and deny that.”

She shakes her head, pulling harder at her restraints. I grin at her, “I think it’s about time we wake up your lover boy before he misses the show.”

There’s a glass of water on the side table. I snatch it and unceremoniously splash it over her date’s head. He wakes up with a gasp.

“What the fuck?! Who the fuck are you? Untie me, you fucking asshole!” He’s loud as he struggles in his chair.

I take enormous pleasure in sending a sharp backhand across his face. I hear her gasp and shout at me to stop. He continues to yell so I slap him again.

He’s pulling hard against the chair and I’m sure the duct tape hurts but I had that chair reinforced and bolted down in preparation for this.

“Shut the fuck up,” I direct the order to him but I hear her quiet behind me too. Good girl, she’s always been so good at following my orders.

I turn towards her and smile, “Honey, do you want to explain to our guest of honor who I am?”

She stares at me, shock painted across her face. Her head shakes a little and she opens and closes her mouth at a loss for words. I smirk and turn to lover boy.

“I’ll make this simple for you. She’s mine. You infringed upon my property and this is the consequence. Now she got it in her head that she’s better off without me so I’m here to correct that. And you are here because you had the gall to think that you had a chance with her. Tonight is a night of righting wrongs.”

Lover boy starts yelling again, cursing and threatening. I pick up the roll of duct tape and rip off a sizable piece that I slap over his mouth. Right now, it’s his turn to be a spectator and spectators don’t talk.

I turn to her.

“Fuck, I missed you, darling.” I brush my fingers along her cheek and she flinches away from me.

“Now now, don’t embarrass me in front of company,” I chide as my fingers run down her body.

I hear her mewl softly as my fingers meet her core. She’s fucking dripping and I laugh softly into her ear. “You’re mine, aren’t you? No one else can make you so fucking wet like this. No one else can touch you like this and make you feel this good.”

I punctuate the end of my sentence with a sharp pinch of her clit and she cries out, arching into me.

“Fuck, please, ah, right there.” Her voice is breathy and it makes my cock throb. My fingers work her pussy effortlessly, applying just the right amount of pressure against her clit while I slide a finger into her. Her pussy clenches around me and I groan.

“I know for a fact your worthless lover boy could never make you feel this good,” I croon, sparing a derisive look towards him.

His face is red and furious as he makes muffled threats from behind the duct tape across his lips. My fingers don’t let up on her and I can hear her moans and whines over him.

I glance at his lap and I laugh. He’s rock hard. “You fucking piece of shit. Who gave you permission to get hard over my girl huh? You like how she looks like this, tied up and at my mercy? You think you could make her sound like this?”

I slam my fingers into her, the sound of her dripping cunt creating a symphony with her cry of pleasure. His cock bobs between his legs and I watch his hips thrust up almost imperceptibly.

I turn my attention back to her. “You see that, darling? He’s fucking aching for you right now. But he can’t fucking have you.”

I can tell by the way she’s writhing against me that she’s close. “Come on baby girl, I know you’re so close, cum for me. Scream for me so he knows how fucking good I make you feel.”

I slide my lips against her neck and my fingers work faster. Without any warning, I sink my teeth into the sensitive skin of her neck and she wails. Her pussy clenches around my fingers and her hips are trembling but I don’t stop.

“That’s it, good girl, just like that.” I work her through her orgasm until she’s gasping and shaking against me. Only then do I pull my hand away from her pussy. Her body is completely limp, her eyes hooded as she stares at me. I stand up off the bed and turn to see how lover boy is faring.

He’s breathing hard, his eyes filled with a combination of anger and lust. I know he wishes it were him touching her, making her scream. I grin at him and walk over. My fingers are still coated in her juices when I smear them across his face, making sure that he smells her.

He lunges at me ineffectively and I let out a deep laugh. It feels so fucking good to show him his place.

“She smells good huh? Bet you wish you could taste her. But you and I both know you will never be able to.”

“Stop, you made your point!” Her voice pulls me from my gloating. “Please, honey, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, can we just be done with this?”

“Oh no darling girl, we’ve got a lot more ahead of us tonight,” I laugh as I slide back into the bed with her. “You see tonight is the time for me to make sure you understand how serious I am about us. And how completely you belong to me. I need to be sure you are never going to forget that.”

I kiss down her body until I’m face to face with her dripping cunt.

“Oh I missed this,” I purr softly, blowing gently against her pretty pussy. Her hips buck up and she lets out an almost silent whimper.

I don’t wait any longer and dive in, my tongue running up and down her dripping slit. I moan against her cunt, relishing in the taste of her.

I know her body better than she does and it doesn’t take long for me to drive her to the brink of insanity, pulling orgasm after orgasm from her trembling body.

“Please, I can’t, it’s too much!” Her voice is breathless as she trembles against me. I look up at her, taking in the way her tears glisten along her cheeks. This is my favorite image of her, ruined and raw, all because of me.

I smile and press a chaste kiss against her pretty pussy and sit up. “Only because you asked so nicely,” I drawl before capturing her lips in a kiss, letting her taste herself on me.

She moans into my lips and I pull away briefly, “I’m going to untie you so be a good girl for me.”

She nods. I know she’ll be good. My fingers are quick to pull apart the knots and I gently massage her extremities as I release her. I help her sit upright and I catch her staring at lover boy. His body is trembling from how hard he’s pulling at his restraints and his cock hasn’t flagged all night.

I smirk at her. “I want you to ride him.”

Her wide eyes meet mine, “What?!”

“You heard me. You went out with him for a reason, you clearly thought he was fuckable so now’s your chance.”

She’s unmoving on the bed, still in shock while I stand and walk towards him. I grab the piece of tape covering his mouth and rip it off.

“Your turn to shine, lover boy. Do you want to fuck my girl?”

“Fuck off!” His voice is hoarse but I catch the waver in his tone. I smirk, “Don’t lie to me, I know your cock’s been rock hard this whole night. So fuck her and make her cum.”

I turn to her now, “Ride him, darling. Get what you want from him because you’re not going to get another chance after tonight.”

I grab her hand and pull her up off the bed to her feet. Her legs are shaky as I lead her to him. I turn her around so her ass is pressed up against his cock.

He groans and leans his head back against the chair.

“That’s it darling, you feel his cock against your pretty pussy?” I hold her hands to keep her balanced.

“Go ahead, sit your tight cunt onto his cock for me.”

She looks at me, eyes uncertain. I smile and nod.

I watch my girl sink down on his cock. Her back arches and she lets out a small moan that makes me laugh.

“Does that feel good? Does his cock fill you up?”

She whines out a yes as her hips start to gyrate against him. He lets out a guttural groan, “Fuck you’re so tight.”

I laugh, “Ride him, darling. Make yourself feel good.”

She does exactly as she’s told. I watch as she moves herself up and down, the movement making her pretty tits bounce. I sit back against the bed and stroke myself softly, watching my girl fuck herself using her pathetic date.

Moans are spilling out of both of their mouths as she keeps moving her body in just the right ways.

“Does he feel good inside of you, darling?”

She whimpers in response, “Ah fuck, yes!”

“Yeah? You wanna make yourself cum using his cock? Greedy little thing huh, you just came your brains out and you want more?” I taunt her as I stroke myself up and down, watching the scene unfold.

“Yes! Please, I want to cum again!” Her voice is desperate as her body moves faster up and down.

I hear lover boy let out a deep groan and I smirk. “Keep going pretty girl, make yourself cum on him.”

His groans change in pitch. “Fuck no, wait, ah!” My smirk widens when I hear his voice crack and his eyes close. “Fuck wait, I’m cumming!”

I can’t contain the deep, scornful laugh that erupts out of my chest. Pathetic lover boy couldn’t even last long enough to make my girl feel good.

I watch with glee as my girl whimpers softly and slows her movements. Her eyes meet mine and I can see the wanton lust and need written all over her face.

He lets out a pathetic groan and I meet his eyes, seeing the pitiful humiliation on his face.

“You worthless dick, you couldn’t even last long enough to make my girl cum.” My voice is filled with derision.

I stand and beckon to my girl, “Come here.”

She’s quick to obey, pulling off of him swiftly. I pull her body close to mine and slip my fingers down to her dripping pussy. I gather the messy mix of his cum and her wetness onto my fingers and smear them across his chest and face. “Pathetic piece of shit,” I sneer.

“Get on the bed, on your hands and knees and face him, darling.” My girl does exactly as she’s told, arching her back and watching as I circle around to behind her.

I line myself up against her cunt and slam my cock home. She screams.

I don’t give her time to adjust to my cock splitting her open. My movements are harsh and punishing. I’m showing her who she belongs to, proving to him that only I can make her feel this good.

“You’re a worthless, disgraceful piece of shit. Didn’t even last long enough to make my girl cum.”

I bully my cock into her over and over again, hearing her voice shake with pleasure in a way that she definitely didn’t do with him.

I can feel the way her pussy clenches around me rhythmically and I know she’s close. I lean down and whisper to her, “I want you to look at him while you cum all over my cock. Make sure he knows how good I make you feel.”

She’s delirious with pleasure but I know she’ll do as I say. I laugh as I see him struggle against the chair, his face red with humiliation and anger.

“Cum for me, darling. Scream for me.” My thrusts get deeper, harder, faster and her body follows my instructions effortlessly. Her cunt clenches around me and her orgasm rips through her body. I laugh again, feeling her pussy squirt her pleasure, relishing in her rapture.

I fuck her through her orgasm and I feel my own building. But I want one more out of her. I slide a hand down to her clit and begin to mercilessly work her body. She gasps, shaking against me and I don’t give her a chance to recover.

It doesn’t take long before her cunt clenches again and this time, as she wails our her release, I join her.

We collapse onto the bed and I make sure to catch myself so she doesn’t take the brunt of my weight. I run my lips along her ear and I make one final claim, “You’re fucking mine forever.”

She whimpers, “I’m yours.”

I grin and look up at him, taking in his expression of defeat and humiliation. “You never deserved her, lover boy.

[amazinglyashy]

Crow on the Ring

Read on AO3 Pairings: Sylus x Reader, Luke and Kieran & Reader Tags: Gender Neutral Pronouns, Domestic Fluff, Getting your Nails Done Wordcount: 1,116 Summary: Sylus wonders to himself- if there was any point in having henchmen anymore. If they were going to consistently be busy with his partner getting their nails done rather than helping him with... actual henchmen things...?

It was... difficult , to say the least. 

Coming to the realization that one could no longer go out on jobs, flanked by his own henchmen. You know, the ones he had meticulously hired, trained, and paid more than living wages for for their less than savory duties half of the time. Hell, even housing and clothing them since they seemed to need it, even despite how much you paid them.

Yet, here Sylus was. Standing alone on the train platform to go home. By himself. In the wind. Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. 

Nice.

It wasn't that it annoyed him particularly badly, no. He had done so many things in his life on his own, you wouldn't be able to count them even if you used all of the fingers of the hands of the men he had culled today, mowed down by the very pistol concealed on the inside of his coat, blocking out the chill of the season. Hell, he was even used to sending the twins home early if he didn't think he needed them for cleanup or anything- benefits of Sylus's evol was it usually didn't leave any traces of blood or carnage… that is, as long as he didn't want it to- So, that being said, he was painfully familiar with working alone.

But there was a stark difference between working alone because you were used to it, and working alone because your partner had been wanting to get their nails done for weeks at a trendy salon near the bad side of Linkon, and your own personal henchmen- you know, the ones you trained and paid for- had decided they would go with your partner to… protect them from the possible thugs lurking around nearby, spending their time daring the other to get their nails done too, without so much as a passing question to their boss about whether or not they were allowed to go.

They'd stopped asking a long time ago.

Somehow, Sylus found himself thinking that was a good thing, as he stepped past passengers and crossed the threshold of the train car. He wasn't entirely sure how he came to that conclusion, but as he stood leaning against one of the grab bars, his phone dinged with a text notification, and it showed him the path easily. He pulled it from his pocket, knowing fully well who it could be, the coat on his shoulder unnecessary to stave off the chill of the season anymore. His heart had been sparked enough to do the job on its own.

And somewhere along the line, it had become less about work- less about protocore auctions, deals gone good and deals gone sour, hitlists that spanned far longer than they should have given how much trust and faith Sylus would try and put into people- and that was because of you, only you- and oftentimes gorey scenes that Sylus had more than become accustomed to himself- and more about... You.

About the way you did things so differently from how he did, the fresh perspective perplexing at first, until he had finally fallen in with the routine. But even still, routine was a term used loosely. There was no routine to you. Maybe he could have a set schedule of when you went to cafes or hung out with your friends and coworkers, but that wasn't what he was referring to. No, his mind was drawn to the strange little things you did, to the way you were infectious to everyone you managed to cross without even realizing it- infectious to the ones that mattered. And only to the ones that would ever matter, whether you realized it or not yet- whether you had met them all or not, yet. 

Infectious in the way that he was looking at three matching nail sets in a photo you had sent in the group chat, the emojis of goofy faces popping up from Luke and then Kieran as they added their wordless two cent commentary to the image. The designs were all slightly different from each other, but a similar theme was apparent on each pair of hands. Red, black, and with a crow painted meticulously on each of your ring fingers. The caption underneath read You can see better in person shortly- we're waiting for you at the end of your line! and it made Sylus's heart warm even more than he would ever admit to anyone but you.

He moved to type.

And how do you know which line I'm taking, sweetie? Which platform are you on- the north, or the south?

The three of you had left far before Sylus had left for his job, and he distinctly remembered that not one of you had asked him where he was even going. Not a care in the world, but he guessed that would be your own undoing someday. Particularly, today- He'd been met with silence for a moment, the dot, dot, dot of texts in progress from all three of you went on painfully long, before you finally broke the silence with the shortest text to be sent after such a long period of time.

There's two of you, split up! You had texted back, not to Sylus, but to the twins, and somehow, Sylus found the act amusing enough that a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. Obviously, the three of you were still next to each other, wherever you had ended up in your search for him. There was no need to send the text when you could speak it out loud. 

But that begged the question of where was the fun in that? Where was the hilarity? If you did things the way they should be done, if any of the three of you did, it would be so much different. It would be so much worse. It wouldn’t be the way that you always handled things- clumsy, chaotic, just a little bit out there with your decisions and actions. Because what of it being harder, or more work, or senseless? It was what made sense to you, and the way you viewed the world was a magic Sylus didn’t know existed prior to meeting you. He wanted to see the way you viewed the world through those beautiful eyes of yours, and he wanted you to show him. He wanted you to show him what it meant to care for the twins and their shenanigans, to cause trouble and find the humor in the smallest things- the little things in life. 

He wanted it all from you. 

Even the weird, chaotic bits.

Sylus truly wouldn't have it, any other way.

[ldrfanatic]

one last souvenir from my trip to your shores

thank you so much for 800 followers!!!

here’s a little summer in Italy with theo (from theo’s perspective)

06.04.2024

song title is from the manuscript but I promise this is a happy fic

works slytherin boys

wc - 1.1k

theo nott was decidedly the happiest 16-year old boy in all of europe right now. hell, maybe in all of the world. here he was, on a pebbly italian beach, sun warming his skin, and his beautiful girlfriend curled up on the beach chair next to him.

he felt his heart begin to swell as he watched the scene in front of him. you’d laid between his legs, your head rested against his abdomen and your soft hair tickling his skin. you were reading some muggle romance novel. he didn’t know the name of it, but he knew it was your favorite.

your new medusa charm sunglasses were perched on top of your forehead. you’d shoved them up there maybe 15 or so minutes ago with a complaint that they made it difficult to read.

the versace glasses had been a gift from theo.

in fact, despite your avid protests, he was very insistent on buying you a whole new summer wardrobe for the trip. theo smiled to himself as he thought on the weeks ahead. after many pleas from you, and heaps of charm from theo, your parents had begrudgingly allowed you to spend half the summer break with theo in italy.

the two of you were staying in the nott family’s summer home there. when he was younger, theo used to visit every summer, but he hadn’t been back since his mother passed. the cliffside home sat empty for so long that the two of you had to scourgify layers of dust off of every surface.

it was going on your second week of a blissful vacation. only one week into a six week trip, theo couldn’t help but feel giddy, even if he’d never admit it out loud.

“bellissima,”

you held one finger in his direction, an indication for him to hold his piece for a moment. theo felt amusement curl along his lips into a smile.

after a short (agonizing) eternity, you closed the book around your index finger and tilted your head backwards until your eyes met his, your head now completely resting on his stomach.

as your eyes found his, theo felt his mouth go dry. butterflies knocked around in his stomach threatening to crawl up his throat at any given moment. no matter how much time he spent with you, you still turned him into a blushing boy with only a look. it should be a punishable offense to be so beautiful and so very sweet.

theo wasn’t sure how he managed to land a literal angel from heaven itself but he knew one thing for sure: he was never letting you go.

pulling himself from his blissful thoughts, theo allowed a large hand to snake down until his palm rested against the softness of your stomach.

“affamato?”

over the course of your relationship, you’d picked up a few words and phrases from theo. when he so often spoke in his mother tongue, it was kind of unavoidable. theo rubbed his hand in smooth small circles. the content smile that graced your lips made theo’s insides feel like they were on the wrong side of gravity.

“i could eat.”

but neither of you moved. finally, you placed the small love note you’d been using as a bookmark in between the pages and closed your novel. then you turned over onto your stomach so as to look at your boyfriend properly.

theo’s arms snaked around you instinctively, pulling you impossibly closer to him. he tried not to look at your the tops of your soft breasts which were now pressed so much against him that they started to spill from the confines of your bathing suit. he may be your boyfriend, but he was also a gentleman. his mammina had taught him to always be a gentleman and always take really really good care of his women.

despite his best attempts, theo felt his eyes water involuntarily. the moment he saw you, he knew you would be his bride. he felt very strongly that you were sent to him by his mother. a parting gift.

the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of your smile. they felt like hugs and kisses from her. when he first met you, theo felt something. a feeling that had left with his mother’s last breath, and had yet to return. until you came along.

“let’s get you food, bambina.”

you didn’t question his teary appearance. you always understood him without a single syllable from his lips and this time was no different.

you packed all of your belongings back into your marc jacobs tote bag (another gift from theo) and picked up your sandal. when you turned to him, hair blowing in the beach breeze, and free hand outstretched to him, theo felt his heart tightening once again.

“i’ll be along soon. there’s something i have to do first.”

with a soft nod of your head, you took off on the path back to the chateau. theo watched you leave, waiting until you were safely inside the house before turning back to the waves. he didn’t smile, or move much at all. he just watched the waves crash and allowed his senses to be overwhelmed with the sweetness of the tyrrhenian sea. his mother’s favorite place on earth. the last place he saw her smile.

theo took a deep breath and allowed the words to flow naturally from his lips. he didn’t fight them or his emotions. he just spoke.

“mamma, i can feel your presence surrounding me. your spirit lives on in every beat of my heart and every breath i take. i want to thank you, mamma, for everything you've given me – for your love, your guidance, and your unwavering support. she's a gift, mammina, a true blessing, and i can't help but believe that you had a hand in bringing her into my life. her laughter echoes yours, and her kindness reflects the warmth of your embrace. thank you for sending her to me. i promise to cherish her, mamma. i miss you so much and one day, we'll be reunited. until then, i carry your love in my heart, knowing that you're always watching over me.”

theo took in another deep breath, the air suddenly feeling tight in his throat. “grazie, mamma, for everything. ti amo, e ci vediamo tra un paio di decenni.”

-

(i love you, and i’ll see you in a couple of decades)

theo taglist

@moonlightreader649 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess @nighttimemoonlover

[tiredfox64]

Hello!! I love your fics and have a small request!

Is there any way you could do a pt.2 to "Thick thighs can save lives" and make it nsfw? I loved that fanfic sm when I originally read it! I love chubby reader stuff. I'm chubby myself soo!! Eee!!

I loved your fics sm. Keep up the good work!!

Thick Thighs Call for Good Times

Prior notes: Y E S! We big girls need our lovin. I went too crazy I think because Bi-Han got me all hot and bothered. I blame ███████ for my addiction to him.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Chubby! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: NSFW, Overstimulation, creampies, oral sex (fem receive), we ride…Bi-Han…rhymes with dawn if you say it a certain way

You never left the Lin Kuei. You never left Bi-Han. Bi-Han was never letting you go. That’s just how the cookie crumbles.

It was clear to Liu Kang that he wasn’t getting his apprentice fully back. So a compromise was made. You stayed with Bi-Han and Liu Kang would come to you to actually train you since Bi-Han wasn’t letting you train with anyone else. As long as you stay near him he’s fine with this arrangement.

The Lin Kuei treated you much better than when you first arrived. That might be because it’s clear that a relationship was established, at least in Bi-Han’s perspective. You followed his lead and figured he wanted a relationship. It would be awkward if he didn’t want a relationship while he’s constantly trying to cuddle you and give you a little smoochy smooch.

The clinginess didn’t get better. That man had his hands all over you, squishing and squeezing anywhere he could. On a calm day he would only be squishing your stomach as you guys would lie down or if he had you in his lap. The frisky days, as you called them, were much more risqué. Chest, thighs, ass, if he could grab it he would.

The first time he ever grabbed your breasts it was a mind blowing experience. He was tempted by you. You were wearing a tank top after training for a bit. Of course no tank top could ever handle the size of your chest but you couldn’t care, you were hot. Bi-Han saw how your breasts would jiggle with every step. He came up behind you and gave you a hug which you gladly accepted, appreciating his cold skin against your burning skin. Then his hands grabbed at your chest. It wasn’t harsh but it definitely wasn’t a gentle grab. He wanted you to know what he wanted.

“Really?! You’re not gonna say anything to me? Just grab my tits like that?” You questioned Bi-Han but he didn’t care.

You’re not pushing him away so it’s fine. You did expect him to do it one of these days. That day was the day.

“They are nice. They fit so perfectly in my hands.” He looked very intently at his fingers as they squeezed down on your breasts.

He liked the way they bounced back. He liked how they felt in his hands and how they had weight to them.

He wanted a better feel and tried to slip his hands under your tank top before you slapped them away. He was ready to ravish you on a Tuesday afternoon, the sun was still out! He needed to learn some patience. Cause you sure as hell ain’t doing anything in his office when someone could easily walk in.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Day after day he was trying to grab you in other places. It was difficult to have time to yourself. He even tried following you into the bathing area which you had to physically throw him out. We love a strong woman.

Oh and forget getting out of bed. No, he kept you close to his chest with one arm around your waist and a hand at your breasts.

None of these instances ever led to anything more. You would put a stop to it for multiple reasons. You were too tired, you need to wash up, you’re on your period, you weren’t even in bed. Bi-Han respected your rejection but that didn’t mean he wasn’t getting sexually frustrated. He can’t keep using his hands when he has you right in his grasp.

Truth be told you were still a little insecure about your looks. Clearly Bi-Han loves your body but that nagging voice inside your head says he won’t like you anymore once he sees you naked. You still wanted to hide your lovely rolls and stretch marks from him.

You do realize Bi-Han can handle it, right? Don’t doubt him.

You didn’t like this nagging voice. It’s preventing you from being yourself and expressing some wonderful things. You do want to have sex with Bi-Han. It’s a desire you must fulfill but one that will only happen once you start giving some love to yourself. So what better way to feel better about your body than looking pretty.

On a day when you weren’t training you decided to dress all pretty. A cute skirt with some knee high socks and a long sleeve v-cut shirt. Ooh girl, don’t you look all cute. You better work it! But only work it for Bi-Han, no one else.

You went around looking for Bi-Han, catching the attention of a few clansmen. When you found him he was watching over his clan as they trained. You wrapped your arms around his arm to get his attention. Bi-Han was gonna give you just a glance before he snapped his neck back to look at you. Your chest was squishing against his arm with the shirt showing your cleavage. When he looked down further he could see that you were showing some skin since you were wearing a skirt. Damn you look so adorable to him…and fuckable.

He didn’t say a word to anyone. He just grabbed you and threw you over his shoulders while making his way to the bedroom. You got used to him doing that but you weren’t used to the speed he was going at. He was practically pushing people out of the way before going into the bedroom. He locked the door and threw you on the bed gently. You weren’t all that surprised he did that but what surprised you was how he towered over you and what he had to say.

“Is this what you were planning? You were planning to get my attention by wearing that outfit. Bet you were hoping I would take you right then and there in front of everyone.”

Oh that’s not—no, that’s not what you were planning…

“What?! No! That’s not at all what I was planning-“ you were cut off when you hear the sound of cloth ripping.

Bi-Han tore your underwear off. The air hit your already wet pussy. His arms hooked onto your thighs before he yanked you closer to the edge of the bed where he was now kneeling. His lips practically grazed your clit. Next thing you know his tongue took a long drag up before swirling around your clit. You immediately gasped and your instinct was to close your legs.

Your thighs started to squeeze Bi-Han’s head. That was incredibly to him. Feeling those soft yet strong legs of yours squeezing him, possibly even suffocating him. Suffocation won’t make him stop eating you out. In fact, it makes it even better.

He would push his tongue inside you as his nose would bump into your clit. The taste of you would hit his tongue, causing him to want more and more. Occasionally his tongue would slip out and circle your clit as if it were candy to him. And you’re just supposed to stay there and look all pretty for him as you moan. Don’t think about pushing his head away he will not budge. He’s not done getting a taste of you and preparing you for more to come.

You didn’t realize how long it’s been since you satisfied yourself in any way. Ever since you came to the Lin Kuei you haven’t had the chance to masturbate. Meaning you were already so sensitive when he started going down on you. He could tell since you are already struggling to hold your moans in. He could feel your pussy clench around his tongue, letting him know you were about to cum. His tongue went back to your clit where he licked it continuously. It was his goal to make you cum and get more of your taste. He achieved his goal quickly.

You couldn’t hold back your moans. They weren’t loud but could easily be heard if someone were to pass by the bedroom door. Your thighs tightened around his head as if you were worried he would pull away if you didn’t keep him in place. That orgasm high was glorious. Wow, you feel amazing.

Bi-Han let go of your legs before standing up again. You watched as he licked his lips to collect the rest of your juices.

“Take your clothes off…now.” He demanded.

Oh you didn’t think that was the end right?

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

He wanted you to be all sensitive and ready for him. Bi-Han has been waiting for this moment for way too long.

Your clothes were now on the ground and so was his. He didn’t even give you time to take off your knee high socks before he grabbed you and forced you on your stomach.

Bi-Han had a nice grip on your love handles. That’s what he loves about a body like yours. You are built to be loved and to make love. He held your lower half up while your face was down in the sheets. Your hands were gripping the sheets tightly as he slammed into you.

You didn’t see how big his cock was but you could definitely feel it. So thick and surprisingly the only warm part of his body. Or maybe that was your pussy warming it up, you can’t tell with the only thing in your mind being the pleasure that was pulsating through you. You didn’t even realize you were crying from the overstimulation.

Bi-Han could say the same about you. Your pussy was so warm and it squeeze him so nicely. He felt like you were made to be fucked by him. It just feels right.

The view he was getting was fantastic too. Watching his cock go in and out with your wetness coating it. Every time he thrusted into you he would watch your ass jiggle. And when you turned your head to the side he could see how your tears stained your cheeks. You looked so pretty like that. He leaned his body forward till his chest was pressed against your back.

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle being loved by your grandmaster. I thought you were a strong woman.“ Bi-Han teased you.

You wanted to say something back but you couldn’t make out anything. You needed to catch your breath but it felt like there was no break in his stride. Just that constant rough rhythm. It only became worse, or more like pleasurable, when Bi-Han placed his leg up on the bed. When he thrusted back in, you moaned loudly. This new angle allowed him to go deeper into you. Not just that but he was stretching you out more.

You were a crying, drooling, moaning mess below him. His cock slammed deep into you. You were done for. The overstimulated combined with the deeper penetration made you cum all over his cock. You shook and your hands gripped the sheets so tightly that your knuckles became pale. The moans you let out were definitely heard by everyone.

Luckily for you, Bi-Han was just as close as you were. He fucked you through your orgasm before his hit. Your love handles were definitely getting bruised because he was squeezing them harshly while he was cumming inside you. You felt a warmness that filled you. It will be a feeling you will never forget.

You two stayed in that position for a few moments as you caught your breath. You were all hot and you felt disheveled. Bi-Han pulled out, making you whimper from feeling somewhat empty now. He got onto the bed and laid down in his usual spot on the bed. And then he grabbed you!

You thought this was over? Hah! Not for that man!

He grabbed you and made you sit on top of him. You were confused on what he was doing. At this point you should be cuddled to sleep. But he looked up at you and commanded you to do something else.

“Ride me. Make me cum one more time then we will be done.”

You got nervous. Not that you were afraid to do this all over again but that he would be seeing the front of your body. You tried to cover your body with your arms.

“Are you sure you want me to ride you? Maybe you could fuck me from-“

“I want to watch you ride me. I want to see my beautiful woman please me.”

Bi-Han was dead serious. He wanted to watch you not just to see how you reacted to being overstimulated but to see your body as a whole. This was the first time he was truly seen you naked. He wanted to see those gorgeous, round breasts. He wanted to see that cute tummy of yours. He wants to hold those powerful, thick thighs. He wanted it all. He wants you.

Hearing him call you beautiful and hearing how serious he was made your stomach do a flip. You lowered your arms, exposing yourself to him. You did as he wanted. You lifted yourself up a little, angled his hard cock near your hole, then slowly slid down on it.

You both let out a satisfied sigh. You might like this position a lot. It feels like he is really deep inside you. You don’t know if you could keep yourself going but you try.

You start bouncing up and down on his cock, hearing the mixture of your wetness and his cum making sounds every time you move. Bi-Han’s eyes looked at how your body jiggled whenever you slid back down. Your breasts bounced a lot. They called to him and his hands traced up your body till they got to your breasts. He squeezed and played with them. He pinched your nipples lightly and heard your reaction to that. Everything he did you had a clear reaction to.

Tears formed in your eye once again as the pleasure became too much. You were looking down at Bi-Han with half-lidded, glossy looking eyes. They were so beautiful to him. He could get lost in them. But for now his mind was lost to the feeling of your pussy squeezing him constantly. He saw that you were getting sluggish with your movements. He can’t blame you, this was a lot for you to handle. He pulled you close to him. Your chest was pressed against his. He looked into yours eyes and said,

“I’ll take care of this. Just relax and kiss me.”

You listened and started to kiss him. His arms wrapped around your waist and he held you tightly. His hips started thirsting into you. You moaned against his lips while he groaned. Your tears slipped down your cheeks as the pleasure came to a peak once again.

You moaned out loud as you came again. You didn’t try kissing him to keep yourself quiet. You felt like you had no control over your actions in this moment. A few more thrusts and Bi-Han came inside you once again. You must have been filled to the brim with his cum at this point.

Once the high started to dissipate you were left lying on top of him. He held you in his arms and his cock grew soft inside you. His hands were rubbing your back and running through your hair. You could have passed out in that moment if he didn’t start talking again.

“You seemed to like that a lot. I can’t understand why you were so hesitant before.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t like my body.” You responded in a sleepy voice.

“That is idiotic of you to think.” And that was rude of you to say, Bi-Han.

“You are beautiful in many ways. I was a fool to think you were weak before. You are strong and that is what I like in a woman. You are not only strong but gorgeous with a perfect body to love. I would not want to share my affection with anyone else.” He whispered to you.

You were surprised, truth be told. Bi-Han’s words sounded genuine. Your heart warmed up to the fact that he really did love you and your body. Now you felt silly for being worried before.

“You are the only woman I need now. You are my type. Now rest, you must be exhausted.”

Bi-Han placed a kiss on your forehead as his thumb wiped away any stray tears that were still on your cheek. You started to fall asleep with a light smile on your face. This was a wonderful experience for you and Bi-Han. Now you get to rest in his loving and strong arms.

Sweet dreams, gorgeous. Remember your worth.

After notes: My bestie sent me this, this is so me fr fr. Felt like it fits in.

[neiptune]

when you get me alone it's so simple

c/w: 1k wc, megumi is so head over heels in love with you he allows you to do his makeup for a halloween party, sappy and self indulgent and disgustingly sweet pls be nice i haven't written something in forever

“Why are you being so difficult?”

“When am I not being difficult according to you?”

The playful quip makes the cornes of your lips curl into an amused smile.

“Right. But I really think you should come”

Megumi holds your gaze with a seemingly impassive stare, lets the small interval of silence stretch for a second too long.

It’s not that he doesn’t like hanging out with his friends, he actually enjoys the idea of getting to be nothing more than a young man with an exceptionally low tolerance level for Nobara’s antics for once. However, a halloween party? Filled with obnoxious strangers who will get drunk and make a mess of Yuuji’s house? A mess that you have already promised will help to clean out?

Definitely not on his bingo card for an evening he could spend at the movies or in a quiet pub instead.

But then, there’s your strenuous perseverence. The disappointment you didn’t for a second attempt to hide still swarming in those big eyes, the pettish inflexion of your pitch when you had sputtered a what? What d’you mean you’re not coming?

And now there you are, curled up on the other end of your couch, sulkiness oozing from every glance you’ve spared him for the last half an hour.

“I want you there” you innocently cock your head and he feels something melt in his chest “it just wouldn’t be fun without you. Please come?”

Sometimes Megumi wonders if you know about the exhausting effort it takes him to whisk away thoughts a friend shouldn’t have, the way he’s almost lost his mind dwelling on the way you held on to his hand the entire way back to your apartment on the night he came to collect you from the bar, drunk and a giggling, clingy mess. He wonders if you understand just how deeply you can get under his skin and the way he hangs on to every word, every smile, each I want you there.

“Gumi?” you inch forward, brows knit and cool fingers gently grazing his arm.

Jesus, fuck.

“Fine. But I’m not staying to clean up”

You smile knowingly, a light shrug swallowing the of course you will almost spilling from your lips.

“Deal. And I get to do your makeup”

The dim light of your awfully small bathroom has gentle shadows settling into the curves of your collarbones and accentuates your jaw, the apples of your cheeks. There are only so many glances he can steal as the pitter-patter of rain on the window makes the perspective of spending the night out even less appealing.

Regardless, the warmth radiating from your skin and the smell of your perfume cloud his pathetically heightened senses, a multisensory madness that has his heart thumping painfully in his chest and the pads of his fingers tingling with need.

“Will you stop flinching?” only one of his eyes is open and you’re out of focus but that exasperated smile rings loud in his ears.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, it’s an instinctive reaction”

“I’m just using eyeshadow”

You finally allow his left eye to peel open and Megumi almost laughs at your focused stare, creases on your forehead expressing a deep dissatisfaction.

“What? Doesn’t suit me?” he quips “it’s probably because you keep smudging it—”

“I’m going for a dramatic look, you dolt!”

His eyebrows raise in mocking interest.

“Oh, apologies. What’s the issue, then? Not dramatic enough?”

“You’re being surprisingly chatty for someone who is usually very fucking quiet”

Megumi’s sarcastic comeback dies in his throat as you suddenly position yourself over him, not quite straddling his lap because you’re still standing but nevertheless exceptionally close to sitting on his thighs.  

“What are you— what is that?” his voice is thinner and he has to flex his hands to keep himself from positioning them on your hips.

Christ.

“Chill, man. It’s eyeliner. Don’t move, this is the most important part” and then you’re hovering above him once more, except this time you gently grab his chin to tilt his head upwards as you lean closer, so close he stops breathing.

You work quietly, in comfortable silence, although you’re at cotton swab number three and the result still doesn’t seem to fully satisfy you.

“You should wear makeup” it’s a comment made absentmindedly, Megumi can tell by the way you’re not even truly looking at him as you speak, way too absorbed by the task at hand “eye makeup, I mean. It looks really good on you”

“Yeah?”

There must be something in his inflection, because your hand comes to a halt for a second, then resumes its gentle work over his eyelid. All he gets is an affirmative hum.

“Someone would have to teach me how to do it”

He’s not sure where his boldness is stemming from, although he suspects the thumb gently brushing over the same spot close to the corner of his eye would make a reasonable source.

“I’m sure Nobara would be happy to” you quietly chuckle to yourself but this time it feels as if you’re avoiding his gaze on purpose and that just won’t do.

“Doesn’t your back hurt like this?”

“A little bit but I’m almost done with this eye. Are you uncomfortable? I can—” Megumi interrupts you with a gentle but firm hold of your waist, hands far bigger than yours pulling you down to sit on his lap.

You’re dumbfounded and he revels in your shocked expression, in the way you’re the one who doesn’t know how to handle something unexpected for once. In how good it feels to be in control.

“Don’t make it weird” the warning is playful but his hands are still on your waist and give it a light squeeze that has your stomach doing a weird flip.

“I— what? You don’t make it weird! Shut up, stand still” your entire face is on fire and the hoodie you’re wearing suddenly feels all too warm.

Megumi smiles innocently but complies, quiet and as immobile as a sorcerer's body can get.

You pretend not to notice the way he melts into your touch, how his body relaxes as he shuts both his eyes and finally lets you work in peace. No sarcastic remarks, no silly winces. Why does that do something to your chest?

It’s so easy, carefully lining his bottom lash line with your favorite liquid eyeliner. Without thinking, you cradle his face as you gently swipe your thumb over the freshly traced lines to smudge them just right.

But then his eyes flutter open right as you hold his face in your hands and is it your imagination or does the grip on your waist grow more solid in turn?

“Y’know” he murmurs in a way that is so unlike him, so intimate as his indigo gaze burns right into yours “actually, I wouldn’t want Nobara to be the one to do it”

[casuallyawkardd]

In His Vice

Pairing: Dark!Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader

Summary: Something seems different this time when Miguel comes home late

Warnings: non-con in terms of pretending to be someone else, lowkey gaslighting, me attempting to write suspense, not fluent in Spanish so correct me if I mess up

A/N: I made the executive decision to write this fic in a first person perspective because I feel like that adds to the horror aspect so don't come for me. If you enjoy, be sure to join the taglist! Dividers by cafekitsune

I could hear the wind outside, whistling as it shook the trees and bushes. When the weather woman had said there would be a storm tonight, I hadn't expected it to be this bad. Lightning could be seen in the distance, the sound of thunder following after. It took a second more this time, hopefully meaning the storm was going to pass quickly. The television had become background noise, my attention focused on the window as I watched the rain streak down the glass.

Today had been one of those days, the kind where I couldn't wait for it to be over. I had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, a recurring nightmare waking me at three in the morning; its contents making it difficult to fall back asleep, so I inevitably decided to start the day early. Coffee and an aspirin did little to help the headache I'd been developing over the last few days, deadlines at work materializing the throbbing just behind my eyes.

Miguel had seemed to take notice of my struggles, taking over breakfast duty and getting Gabriela ready for school. The feeling of his kiss still lingered on my temple, my fingers now massaging the spot absentmindedly.

"I'm gonna be a little late tonight," he told me, gently prying the emptied mug from my hands and taking it to the sink with the other dishes.

"But what about Gaby's soccer game?" I asked, the look of remorse on his face telling me he had forgotten. "Honey, this is the one that determines if they qualify for the championship. It's a big deal for her."

"I know, mi corazón," he soothed, but I pulled away from his touch. Quiet fell over the kitchen then, Gaby's happy giggles heard from the room over. "Y/N, look at me," he said and I reluctantly turned. Soft brown eyes looked back at me, the hand rubbing my back reassuring. "You know work's been hell lately, my boss really wants me to finish this project. After that, I promise I'll make it up to you and Gaby." That's what he always said. "I know things have been.. tense between us lately, but-"

"Let's not talk about this right now," I interrupted him, hiding the pang in my chest when a look of defeat crossed his features. I had every right to be mad at him. This wasn't the first time he had forgotten. It wasn't just about this soccer game, it was about every forgotten soccer game, birthday party and date night before. Was I happy my husband had gotten the promotion he rightly deserved? Of course, but had I known just how much his job would take away from our family, I would have suggested he negotiate terms.

Which was why I held my tongue as he and Gaby left the house. In hindsight, I could've been kinder to Miguel. Could have turned my head as he leaned in for a kiss, said 'I love you' when he whispered the same phrase in my ear. With no way to turn back time, I figured I could redeem myself tomorrow. He was always quick to forgive.

The rest of the day was as mundane as any, the stress from the deadline had seeped into my very being, becoming familiar as I submitted my final drafts. Then I was left with nothing, returning to the start of the vicious cycle that came with the job. At least I got to clock out early, meaning I had time to spend with Gaby.

She was a bundle of excitement, squealing when she saw I had come to pick her up early from preschool. Relatives always told me she'd grow up fast; I found that to be true. Expected to start kindergarten next year and she was already being mistaken for a second grader. Her father's doing most likely, maybe she'd end up being as tall as him someday. Sharp as a whip too, but that trait I always said came from me.

We decided on a mommy-daughter date at a nearby cafe, one I knew Gaby would like. The owner's cat loved to brush against her legs, mewling until I told her it was alright to give him a dollop of whipped cream. Keep her happy until she saw her papi wasn't at her game. She was disappointed, the bounce in her step fading when she came up to me afterwards, frowning in confusion.

"Papi?"

"Not today, sweetheart," I offered her a sympathetic smile, "work needed his help very badly. You understand, yeah?"

Gaby nodded, but I knew my daughter well enough to know she was still bothered, "I wanted to show Papi that I used the move he showed me."

"Well you can show him after dinner, right?" The idea seemed to help perk her up, the two of us walking hand in hand back to the car to head home.

Only Miguel didn't make it home for dinner. Odd but not uncommon, unfortunately. It wasn't until it neared Gabriela's bedtime that I felt something was wrong. He's always home in time to put her to bed. A nagging feeling started in the back of my mind. He wasn't answering his cell either, going to voicemail instantly. After promising Gaby that I'd send him in to kiss her goodnight later, she finally settled and I took my post on the couch. Which is where I've been up until now.

A quick glance at my phone told me it was nearing one in the morning, that nagging feeling became something more. Something that dug into my gut and constricted my chest. The amount of missed calls he had was probably bordering on the edge of warranted worry and psychotic spouse. The thought of calling the police made my fingers itch, but I abstained. Miguel's a big guy, he can take care of himself...right? I winced as my teeth bit into the skin around my fingernails, pulling my hand away to assess the damage. It was a nervous habit I couldn't seem to shake, the cuticles an ugly red from irritation.

Then came the sound of a click, followed by the ominous crash of thunder. It was quiet, I almost didn't notice, but it was a new sound compared to the rain, thunder and static of the TV. My heart lurched forward, taking me with it as I rushed to the entry hallway. In the dark, I could make out a figure. Large and imposing, it hunched in front of the main door of the house, grunting as it shifted about in the black of the hall. I had become so paranoid that the sight left me momentarily speechless, throat suddenly dried when I tried speaking.

"Miguel?" was what I managed to get out.

The movements stopped, tension rising around me as the figure stood to its full height. I almost back pedaled as it approached, step by agonizing step coming closer and closer to me. The air around me felt thick, hard to breathe until the glow of the TV revealed this intruder.

"It's you," Miguel's voice rattled my eardrum, reminding me to breathe. "Why are you still up?"

"Where have you been?" I demanded, forcing my voice to remain at a reasonable volume. "Do you know how late it is?"

Miguel's expression hardened, not answering me right away and keeping me on the edge of my seat. I searched every inch of his face for a reason, a tell to let me know what had kept him, and yet I saw nothing. Why did I still feel so uneasy? "There were some complications at work," he explained, "It took some time to fix. I figured you'd be asleep by now, so I grabbed something to eat after everything was sorted."

"And that took you until one in the fucking morning?"

"Didn't know I had a curfew." He said it so bluntly, almost accusatory. The eyes that looked into mine were unyielding, wanting no question or fuss to his response. Not to push that which was unmovable. It wasn't an expression I was familiar with, at least from him, the glint of affection that lingered no matter how mad he got at me now snuffed.

"I..." I trailed off, unsure what to say next. The whirlwind of thoughts and emotions collected within me had me feeling unhinged. Was I being crazy? "I'm sorry, I was just worried about you," I settled on, swallowing thickly so my throat had lubrication.

"Where's Gaby?"

The question gave me pause, his evident impatience spouting words from my mouth. "Oh! Um... she's in bed," Miguel didn't seem impressed by my answer, "u-upstairs," I pointed in the direction mentioned.

"Mmm," was all he responded with, leaving me to shuffle out of the way as he beelined to the staircase. Then I was left alone once again, the suddenness of it making me wonder if I had just dreamed everything. The heavy footsteps above my head confirmed that our interaction was all too real, another crack of thunder giving my body the jumpstart it needed. All was well now right? That's what I told myself as I folded the blanket I had been using, shutting off the TV and making my way up to the second floor.

Miguel's home now, Gaby's in bed, everyone is safe and sound. I thought as I passed by my daughter's room, catching a glimpse of her father sitting beside her bed. I repeated it as I got myself ready for bed, brushing my teeth and washing my face of any leftover makeup. My pajamas were one of Miguel's t-shirts and I tucked my nose under the collar as I lay down, letting the smell of him ease my lingering nerves. There was nothing more to worry about, everything would go back to normal tomorrow.

The sun woke me up, bright rays peeking through the curtains. Blinking away the haze of sleep, I still felt restless. The nightmares again, most likely. A nuisance that was bold enough to show itself in the night, but cowardice in that I'd forget them in the morning. As I wiped my eyes, the clock on my nightstand became readable.

7:30 AM

Overslept. It was what I needed to get me out of bed, rushing as I did the bare minimum to look presentable. Cold water to wash my face, teeth brushed, hair pulled back and managed, some sweatpants and slip-ons for good measure. Thank God I worked from home.

Gaby was next on my radar, moving quickly down the hall and rapping on her door with my knuckles. Opening my mouth to tell say it was time to get up, the words left me when I saw she wasn't in bed. Come to think of it, Miguel hadn't been in bed either. Did he even come into the room last night? Shaking my head to clear the thought, the sound of dishes clattering drew me to the kitchen. As I descended, the smell of pancakes was clear, the sound of quiet chatter and little giggles following after.

"Papi, quiero voltear el siguiente." Papi, I want to flip the next one.

The baritone of Miguel's laugh followed after, "Lo sé chiquita, pero debes tener cuidado." I know little one, but you have to be careful.

The sight of my husband and daughter making a mess of the kitchen was touching, last night's events feeling like a distant memory. Almost. To think those cold, hard eyes that had pierced through my very being, were now looking down with such warmth and tenderness.

"Mommy!" Gaby spotted me in the doorway, squeezing between Miguel and the counter to come greet me.

"Well, good morning to you too," I cooed, bending forward so we were eye level. Her arms wrapped around my neck in an embrace, my lips finding purchase on her cheek before returning the gesture with one arm. "What do you have going on here?" I asked once we had parted, smoothing down her curls.

Gaby shrugged, "I wanted pancakes," was her simple response. "You were sleeping, so Papi said he could make them."

I looked up at the man in question, who seemed more occupied with what was cooking on the stove than what we were discussing. "And they haven't burnt?" I teased, approaching him from behind. My hand touched the small of his back, thumb rubbing small circles into the muscle as I looked over his shoulder to analyze the aforementioned pancakes.

"I know how to make pancakes," Miguel quipped back, his tone suggesting I might have struck a nerve.

"Of course you do. It's just that last time-"

"I said I got it."

"Okay," was all I could really say, kissing his shoulder apologetically. "You're tense, Mig. You should take a warm bath," I commented, pulling away so as not to disturb him further. Gaby had taken a seat at the kitchen counter, nibbling on a small plate of fruit. Miguel had most likely prepared it so she didn't get impatient.

"Well, breakfast will have to be quick today," I announced, grabbing a grape for myself, "We still have to get you dressed for preschool and then-"

"I called the preschool," Miguel interjected and I turned to him, "she's not going today."

A small frown graced my features, "Well, I wanted to get a head start on my next article."

"Called your work too. Told them you weren't feeling well." Before I could protest, Miguel continued, "I took the day off as well, figured we could have a day together. As a family."

"Oh," is all I had left to say, "Are you sure? I mean that sounds great, but you said your boss was really strict about time off."

Miguel huffed, smiling wryly at my comment, maybe even condescending. "Yeah, well if he has a problem with it, he can kiss my ass."

My eyes widened at his sudden crassness, "Miguel!"

"Papi, that's a bad word," Gaby chimed in, nose scrunched in determination as she scolded her father.

Miguel's smile shifted to a genuine one, rounding the kitchen island to reach the little girl. "You're right, mi vida, I'm sorry," he said, kissing her temple and she squirmed at the contact. I watched as Miguel pulled away, combing his long fingers through her hair. Did she always look so small next to him? "Come on, help me plate the pancakes. The sooner you eat your breakfast, the sooner we can figure out something to do."

Gabriela nodded eagerly, jumping out of her seat and following Miguel to resume their work. I figured I'd let them enjoy each other's company, preparing coffee for Miguel and myself. As I had hoped, everything seemed to be as it always was once more, if not better. Usually it was hectic in the morning, Miguel sleeping in until the last possible second before getting dressed and walking out the door for work, Gabriela in tow. So having a moment like this was a rare treat, one usually reserved for the weekend.

And yet, there was still something that felt so entirely wrong. Something that made my stomach churn and the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Call it intuition, but as to what it was cluing me into, I had yet to understand. I racked my brain as to what could be causing this feeling to linger inside me. Chewing the inside of my cheek as I poured the coffee into two mugs. To one, I added milk and a spoonful of honey. The other simply got milk, each getting a thorough stir. I took both cups, sipping from the one with honey and offering the other to Miguel.

He took it without even looking at me, focused on making sure Gaby didn't hurt herself as she flipped a pancake. I thought nothing of it as I went to go sit down, maybe scroll on my phone now that I had time, but Miguel's disgruntled murmur had me turning to face him. "I don't want anything in my coffee."

"Oh, sorry I didn't know."

"It's fine, can you just remake it?" Miguel asked in a dismissive tone, holding out the mug to me to take. I set my drink down, taking his in both my hands and going to discard the contents in the sink.

When did he start taking his coffee black?

Tags: @lazy-idate @lilly5799 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow

[elect1z]

Hello, got another tf2 request if you like! GNC reader, romantic or platonic.

Reader is an Archfey! A rather powerful one too, perhaps more powerful then Merasmus pretends to be. They could turn cities to ash with a snap of their fingers, grant someone their greatest wish (for a price, that is how wishes work).

Thankfully for everyone, Reader is actually super benevolent and chill. The kind of person that is extraordinarily difficult to piss off. Unlike much of their kin, Reader only really causes very minor amounts of mischief, like hiding people's socks or conjuring extra tupperware lids in one's cupboard.

As of late, Reader has taken a great interest in one of the Mercs, just hanging around and chilling at base when matches are done. Very much like that one stoner friend one has, but with a significant potential for mass destruction.

Any Mercs toy would like, have fun!

...Mischievous Intent...

Tf2 Mercs with Archfey!Reader

⚡︎ : Includes... Scout, Pyro, and Spy!

Scout!

⚡︎ Scout is already scared of you. I mean, you can easily turn a city into dust?! Hell no, he's keeping a safe distance from you. But he also tries to keep a good relationship with you and rarely messes around with you because he is scared that you will curse him lmao ⚡︎ After some time, he realizes you're just a chill guy! He expected you to be intense and scary almost just like Spy.. But hey! It turns out you are just like him! Like to mess around with teammates, etc.. After that, He started to hang out with you frequently after matches ⚡︎ About your little mischievous behavior? Oh, he hated it, Now he understands what others feel when around him ( probably karma). You like to hide his precious little bat, and he would find it in the weirdest way possible. "I swear I saw it over there... HOW IS IT FLOATING IN THE FUCKING AIR??!!" "hehe XD" ⚡︎ Scout is also interested in your appearance, the elf ears, etc... Sometimes he would try to hold his urge to try to touch it. In the end, He is proud of himself for befriending someone powerful like you.

Pyro

⚡︎ Oh, he definitely likes you, Your mischievous/chaotic behavior almost matches his! Silly but dangerous. Often asks you to draw with him or do silly activities after the matches are over. Sometimes while hanging out, you showed off your magic. "Hey, Pyro! Watch this!" Snaps finger and the entire Blu team base explode " Huddah huh! :0" ⚡︎ He also likes your mischievous behavior too, but hates it when you do it at him. One time, You hid his My Little Pony socks in your pockets and hid them for the whole day. After countless hours of searching for his favorite socks, he finally found them. "Hm? Oh! What a coincidence that your socks are in my pockets!" "Huddah Huddah Huhh!! >:[ " "Silly me! Teehee!" ⚡︎ Pyro will ask you to show your magic over and over again. You guys always team up in matches, spreading pure chaos to the match. Pyro also isn't intimidated by your looks, because you look like an angel in his perspective ( even tho you already are) Often trying to touch your ears, wings, etc... Overall, you're his best buddy!

Spy

⚡︎ You know the drill, He hates you. Why? Because your personality is similar to his son... Scout. He doesn't want to deal with another nuisance, He already has Scout being the most annoying thing ever and why would add another? ⚡︎ You could see Spy even when he is invisible and he hated it. In the middle of a match, you always stare blankly at him smiling and waving at him.. Ugh... You also pull pranks on him whenever you can, and it is very annoying, hiding his cigarettes, wines, and his disguise kit. Honestly, he's fed up with you "Looking for this?" Holding Spy's watch " . . . " "Catch me if you can!" Literally flys away " . . . " " ..Kill me... " ⚡︎ He couldn't believe someone as powerful as you could behave like a child. You could destroy a city in seconds, kill enemies in an instant, and you... Decided to behave like a 5-year-old kid. Overall, he hates you, but still considers you as a better version of his son, because other than your mischievous behavior, you are surprisingly calm and can control your anger more than the others. And.. He actually likes it..

[wizardlyghost]

being struck by a bout of alectopause insanity so here's my notes on why i love jod as a villain:

i love a character who tells you exactly who they are the moment you meet them, not in words but in their actions and the way they move through the world around them, and yet still manages to convince you they're someone else, right up to the moment when the mask drops and you realise that on some level you saw all the signs, you just didn't put them together because you wanted the lie to be true so bad. this is something that taz muir loves to do - just look at the explanation of every character's name at the back of each book - but jod is a great example of how this can be done subtly, through the dropping of diegetic hints that something is wrong with the picture.

there's often a degree of grace that a lot of people automatically hold for soldiers, rightly or wrongly; a voice of reason that says "it's overly presumtuous to automatically assume this person is a monster - extremely few people are able to single-handedly change the entire way their organisation operates, maybe this person is just doing the best they can with the information and power they have, it'd be unfair to blame them personally for all the crimes of everyone who's held their position for hundreds of years." but the thing is, that immediately falls apart if you consider for a moment that jod is the god-emperor of the universe, who has been personally leading the empire he built for ten thousand years. there are no predecessors to blame; there is no hierarchy that he is subject to; if he ordered his army to fall on their swords they'd thank him for the opportunity. putting any amount of thought into what is known about this guy's actions will immediately tell you that he's a villain, but the structure of the narrative keeps the reader so off balance with the unreliability of the pov character's perspective that you don't put thought into it, not until the end when it all comes into horrible focus.

it's honestly a masterful work of sleight of hand on the part of the author. like, our first direct impressions of the emperor are at a point where we the audience are distracted by trying to figure out what the hell is going on - what happened to gideon? what's up with harrow's hallucinations? bright lights, strange sounds, confusing new environments... and here comes a gentle, ordinary man, in the aspect of a kind father, to help us get on our feet. he's the god-king of an extremely militaristic space empire, he has an entire planet dedicated to vat-cloning child soldiers, he's wearing a crown of infant finger bones, but these are background minutiae, not so strange by the standards of the space necromancy setting that they draw too much attention, surely if we wait there'll be a reasonable explanation for all of this.

and before we can really switch our focus to any of these worrisome details, we're whisked away to the mithraeum. the bustling flagship is traded in for a remote fortress; the emperor renames himself as teacher; the difficult question of who exactly the empire is fighting against is superceded by the more dramatically existential threat of the ressurection beasts. never mind the glimpse of the man behind the curtain, harrow has more pressing problems to deal with. harrow's the crazy one, teacher's just a mildly ineffectual regular guy doing his best, what gaslamp?

idk where to finish this post. hate the guy love him as a character. can't wait for the last book to eventually come out.

[xianqu]

✦ : PLOTTING CALL ━━━━ wishlist items.

i have trouble starting ideas on the go, or finding a launching point at times, so i decided to compile a list of wishlist relations that i'd like to have for yixuan!! this is by no means an exhaustive list, but a hopefully a place to start from and branch outward to; one of my shortcomings is unfortunately not knowing how to respond and conversations dying so i am fingers crossed that this will work.... see below the cut for a short list of potential dynamics! i'll reblog this periodically and send IMs to those interested!!

hellbound gods / ghosts / spirits ; one of the easiest, i think, in terms of launching points and an easy way into neutral-to-high regard from yixuan. he sees most as coworkers in diyu and even if he's not personally familiar, there's at least an unspoken level of respect between them. with the exception of yanwang ( a tip-top level god who yixuan has absolutely no business trying to get buddy-buddy with in an attempt to get out of this stupid job he's found himself in ) he has at least heard of others in his rank. * coworkers, friends, found family

' righteous ' gods of heaven ; the complete opposite of the above, yixuan has an automatic dislike for the deities in heaven. their relationship has crumbled hundreds of years ago and a sort of resentment between tian / heaven meddling with the affairs of diyu / hell has led to a distrust and longstanding dislike for its gods. especially given his new job searching for the deity who leaked the pill of immortality to the humans, yixuan REALLY dislikes heaven. * enemies, bridging understanding, begrudging coworkers

doctors / deities of life ; expanding on the previous dynamic, this one is a bit more specific to yixuan himself rather than the thoughts of diyu's gods. yixuan has a personal target on his back by shennong ( the god of medicine ) and his followers for SUPPOSEDLY stealing his eye. outside of shennong, yixuan has a neutral standing on those who give / extend life if only because they make his job a bit more difficult than he feels it needs to be. * enemies, antagonizing (yixuan ), new perspectives

mortals who have found immortality ; the Bane of yixuan's existence and his main purpose on earth. while yes, he's meant to cull loves for the return of souls to diyu, his target is finding who has gotten ahold of the pill of immortality and finding which god slipped it to the humans. whether they attained immortality through other means, yixuan is hellbent on reaping their lives if they aren't one of the heroes pre-ordained to be spared. that is, unless they can give him the information he's looking for: he's willing to look the other way for a price. * enemies, hot on the trail, partners in crime (?)

necromancers / jiangshi / reanimated corpses ; cult followers of yixuan's craft and the very souls he visits to bestow his grace upon in order to create these creatures. so long as they don't meddle with the pool of souls, why can't he have a bit of fun from time to time? as a creature made of gu poison, yixuan has no problem with the art, but oversees practitioners to ensure they don't step beyond their boundaries. * mentor-mentee, teaching an old dog new tricks, troublemakers

killers ; workload lifters, he considers them. though it certainly isn't his preferred method, so long as there is a steady stream of souls returned to diyu then he has no qualms against the methodology. he's befriended town serial killers, creatures of the grove, mythical beasts, all who lighten the burden of his already heavy plate. * friends, coworkers, partners in crime

followers ; he's a minor god, at least, until someone has a need to pray to him. even still, there are those who are devout to his name and he's willing to grace them a time or two, a ward of his protection. * god and devotee, trailing puppies, knight and king

friendships ; though his face is well known across his domain and among the humans who have had the misfortune of being paid a visit by him, he isn't always immersed in work. it certainly seems that way at times, but yixuan is a playful soul beneath the layers of gruff annoyance. he's a bit clingy, a bit demanding, and is never quite direct with his thoughts, but is a steadfast rock should someone need it. never one to take anything too seriously ( save for... his work ) he's a lighthearted god who doesn't exactly act his age. * friends, pesterer and pesteree, found family

family (?) ; yixuan is a solitary soul, someone who doesn't fare well with himself much less his own family ( if they even exist-- he's yet to clarify that myth about his origins ) but it gets lonely at times. not that he would ever admit such a thing... having someone to rely on, pester, come to with victories and failures would be good for him, i think. if only to keep from going insane until he's relieved of this stupid position. admittedly difficult to get to know him to reach this point, but a greatly treasured role by the god of plague if achieved. * found family, annoyances, rare soft spots

romantic partners ; admittedly yixuan has had sparse experiences here and there, with immortals and humans alike. there aren't many who capture his heart and those who do flee too soon * right person wrong time, reincarnated love, old gods learning humanity

anything else that comes to mind ; please don't let this post limit you!! if you have your own wishlist dynamics i would LOVE to see how yixuan could puzzle into that role, or if something in this list sparks an idea, that's awesome too!!

[yuanf3]

VIXEN — HAN SEOUL-OH

2. chapter two — "heart-to-heart"

series masterlist

A/N sorry everyone for the delay, got caught up with school - anyway, here's chapter two, hope you like it <3

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The sun bore down relentlessly, casting waves of heat that seemed to dance off the cracked pavement. Beads of sweat formed on my brow and I let out a breath but remained focused, my hands steady on the wheel of the 86’ Honda Civic. I sat patiently, my eyes fixed on the men across the street, their movements deliberate as they loaded duffel bags into the sleek black SUV. 

Come on, let's go already.

As they finally finished — thank fucking God — and climbed into the vehicle, I fired up the engine of my own car and reached for the burner phone, fingers dancing over the screen to dial Dom's number. 

"Four's on the move," I murmured into the receiver before hanging up, my attention shifting back to the road as I subtly tailed the SUV.

Minutes ticked by, the world blurring past as I kept a safe distance and weaved through the bustling streets, the black SUV never far from my sight. Then, like clockwork, I spotted a familiar 70s Dodge and beat-up Nissan idling at the intersection ahead, and I briefly glanced to my left, catching my brother staring at me. A sudden sense of realization crept into the back of my mind. I shook my head, scoffing. Our plan was working.

Another heartbeat later, and we split off in different directions, each of us playing our part. My heart raced, fueled by adrenaline cursing through my veins when Tej's voice crackled through the radio on the passenger seat, his words slicing through the tension. 

"I know y'all said they were consolidating the money somewhere, but, y'all ain't going to believe this."

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I stood under the scorching midday sun, squinting against its relentless glare as it beat down on the streets of Rio. The heat was oppressive, mirroring the tension that hung thick in the air around us. My eyes narrowed as I caught sight of the imposing building ahead, its stone facade gleaming in the sunlight — a freaking Police Station.

The irony wasn't lost on me, and I felt a wry smirk tug at the corners of my lips. Police officers bustled in and out, seeming oblivious to the criminal activity unfolding right under their noses. I wanted to scoff at the whole situation. Hernan Reyes, the notorious drug lord, hiding his ill-gotten gains right under the nose of the law. It was audacious, I had to give him that. But it also made our job that much more difficult.

"Well," Brian muttered under his breath, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, "this job just got a lot harder."

“No kidding,” I chimed in, standing beside him and crossing my arms over my chest, my expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, “We’ll have to get even more creative.”

Rome's voice cut through the tension, his disbelief palpable. "If he's moving it into a police station, he's got some serious brass in his pocket."

"Looks like this is going to be a shorter trip than I thought," Santos said in Spanish, his tone heavy with defeat and resignation. Leo's agreement was swift and vehement, "Hell, yeah, we can't do this."

“'Can't'? You mean, 'shouldn't,'" Han’s words sliced through the conversation, drawing my attention. I turned to him, a flicker of surprise at his perspective dancing in my eyes. A small smile passed between us before I quickly turned away, squashing any flicker of conflicted emotion this man’s smile stirred within me. 

Before I could dwell on it further though, Dom's voice broke through the internal turmoil. "I say we stick to the plan."

"You say what?" Roman's incredulous voice broke the silence, injecting his trademark skepticism. His words drew my attention, and I turned to him, intrigued by his reaction. He looked at Toretto as if the man lost his mind. Couldn’t blame him.

"This just went from Mission: Impossible to Mission: In-freaking-sanity," he continued to exclaim, his frustration evident in his tone.

I exchanged a knowing glance with Brian, a small smirk playing at the corner of my lips. Roman's dramatic outburst never failed to entertain.

"Whatever, man. I ain't scared, I'm just letting you all know, going in that building is crazy," he finally declared. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked away.

My brother followed his suit as he muttered, "I got this.”

Aware of the moment of silence and a whispered conversation between Leo and Santos, I stepped closer to Dom, the midday sun beating down on us, casting harsh shadows across the pavement. 

"Don't worry about him," I said, my voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Pearce is a full-time drama queen, but he'll come around. Besides, we’ve faced crazier situations than this before."

Dom nodded, his expression still serious. "Yeah, but this time we're walking into the lion's den. Reyes isn't going to make it easy for us."

I couldn't deny the truth in his words, but I had to maintain some semblance of optimism.

"True, but that's never stopped you before. You've always found a way to come out on top,” I replied, my tone firm, injecting a note of reassurance into my voice that I hoped would bolster his resolve. 

"We gotta make sure everyone's on board before we move forward,” he said, his gaze scanning the scenery ahead of us. He seemed lost in his thoughts as if this job put more pressure on him than anything ever before but he’s been like that since I’ve met him. I guessed losing the love of your life had that effect on you. 

I’ve never gotten a chance to meet Letty. It was ironic actually because my brother met up with her quite often in our apartment during her undercover work to take down Braga but I was either out with friends or working. Brian sometimes shared a few stories about her from the time when he wanted to make a detective, how he always thought that Letty had seen right through him but she never said a word. Things would’ve been different if she did. That’s why in some kind of a twisted way, I owed her. 

"Agreed," I affirmed, crossing my arms on my chest and then shrugged, following Dom’s gaze. "No biggie. Just remind them of the 11 million they're getting."

My attempt at levity didn't go unnoticed. I grinned and watched as a brief crack in his serious demeanor appeared and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Bullseye. 

It was good to loosen up a bit, especially during moments like this, so I liked to think that sometimes optimism was the best thing one could ask for in times of struggle. And I was here to provide it. 

Because God only knew how much I needed it.

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The dimly section of the warehouse cast shadows across our faces as we gathered around the table. Out of pure coincidence, I stood beside Han, my senses on high alert while the place seemed to shrink with every second that went by. I felt like I was sixteen again, having a crush on a boy who helped out in Brian’s garage part-time, only to find out he was gay and worked there to ogle my brother. Tough times. Learned my lesson, never again. 

That’s why irritation grew inside me like a parasite and the uncomfortable feeling of awkwardness washed over me as the scent of his perfume lingered in my senses and my attention was divided between the man to my right and the task at hand. His presence was like a magnetic force I couldn't ignore, even as I desperately tried to focus on Mia’s briefing.

"The beauty of public offices?” She leaned over the table, a roll-up in hand, exposing the blueprints of the Police Station we wanted to break into. I was aware of the fact of how ridiculous it sounded. “Public records."

Brian's finger jabbed at a point in the labyrinth of walls and measurements. "This is where he's keeping the money. The vault in the evidence room."

“Um. Uh, yeah. Can I get everyone's attention, right here, for a second?” Tej interjected, raising his finger. “We're talking about breaking into a police station.”

Silence fell upon us as everyone waited for him to elaborate. “Is anyone listening to those words? Anybody? Popo? Five-O. One-time. Pigs. People we don't like.”

He’s got a point.

"You know, police stations are designed to keep people in, not out,” Han spoke calmly, glancing toward Dom, who observed with a cautious and sharp gaze. I could almost see gears turning in his head like the man was coming up with a detailed plan on the spot. 

My brother nodded in agreement. "That's why it's a stealth mission. We'll be in and out before they even know we were there."

"Well, we'll need to get eyes in there,” I chimed in, already getting an idea of what we could use. Or rather who. “At least to find out the make and model of that vault."

"So the vault and then, so…” Roman muttered probably to no one specifically, seemingly lost in thought, making a sudden, weird gesture towards the papers. “It's crazy. Who's supposed to do all this?"

Without missing a beat, I exchanged a knowing glance with Brian before turning to Pearce. Another wave of silence settled between our group as the man in question looked around, bewildered by our sudden focus on him. I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to realize what was going on. His eureka moment occurred a second later.

"What do you mean? Why me?"

"Because you got the biggest mouth,” I stated matter-of-factly as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. My smile was sweet as honey when I earned a scoff from Tej, a couple of snickers from the others, and a very offended stare-down from Rome.

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The sun cast hues of orange and pink across the sky as I stood alone on the rooftop of the warehouse, the wind whispering against my bare skin. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to relax, even if just for a second. It was moments like these that made me forget the troubles that constantly haunted me. 

Brian, Tej, and Rome had gone to the station to get an idea of what exactly we were about to encounter and it was nothing that we hadn’t expected already, so Santos and Leo had taken over to blow up a few pipes in the main bathroom. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see these two smiling like Cheshire cats when they heard what their job was. It was safe to say that I had my doubts but hey, gotta be positive, right?

Just as I began to lose myself in the beauty of the scene unfolding in front of me, my phone interrupted the moment with a sharp ding.

“There goes my peace,” I muttered to myself. Sighing, I pulled the phone out of my pocket and glanced down to see a text from an unknown number flashing on the screen. My brows furrowed and I quickly unlocked the screen, my eyes going back and forth as I read the message that immediately sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine.

Have fun in Brazil, love. I’ll see you soon.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, igniting a surge of anger and panic within me. It was like the wind got knocked out of me and my heart sank as painful memories flood back, memories I've tried so hard to bury from a time when I had been naive and desperate. I never told Brian how badly I’ve struggled after I’ve moved to London. I didn’t want him to know about that part of my life where I made mistakes that almost cost me my life.

Those first few months after my move, when I was vulnerable and alone, struggling to make ends meet and juggling between studies and two jobs, were terrifying. My brother was gone, disappeared without a trace, I was hit with the enormous amount of assignments and I was about to be evicted from my apartment.

Then I met Owen. He appeared like a savior, dazzling me with his charm, his sophistication, his extravagant gestures that seemed straight out of a fairy tale. Back then, I had been naive, craving affection and stability in a city that felt alien and hostile. 

I thought I loved him. He had swept me off my feet with his lavish dates, his expensive gifts, his promises of a life I had only ever dreamed of. And as simple as that, I had fallen. Oh, how I had fallen, head over heels, straight into his trap. I hadn't even stopped to question the sincerity of his words or the intentions behind his actions. I was too enraptured by the illusion he had crafted around me, too desperate to believe that someone like him could truly care for someone like me. Someone so insecure and scared.

I didn’t realize who he was until it was already too late. The facade had slowly begun to crack, revealing the darkness lurking beneath the surface. And then, when I finally dared to confront him, to demand the truth I had been too afraid to seek, he’d shown his true colors. The subtle manipulation, the way he always seemed to know just what to say or do to keep me ensnared in his web. I was so blinded by the illusion of love that I never stopped to question the price I was paying.

And I’ve paid a fortune. I’ve paid in tears shed in the dead of night when I thought no one was watching. In missed calls from my friends, whose concerns were silenced by Shaw, and in the gradual erosion of my self-worth, chipped away bit by bit until there was almost nothing left. It was a miracle I’ve managed to leave him, but I wouldn’t be able to if it wasn’t for Hilly and Jessie. 

Now, a fury surged through my veins. I wanted to throw my phone against the concrete floor, to scream out in frustration and defiance. But instead, I took a deep breath and forced myself to ignore the message, to push it aside like I've pushed aside so many other reminders of my past. If he was going to try and get me, I’d welcome him with open arms and a gun pointed at his head. 

With a sharp exhale, I dismissed the text, refusing to let fear consume me. The hatred I’ve felt towards Shaw had reached a level that could no longer be described with words but with actions. 

As I stared at the vanishing sun, lost in my thoughts, I was abruptly startled by the sound of footsteps approaching behind me. Instinctively, my body tensed, ready to defend myself against any potential threat. But before I could react further, a familiar voice broke through the tension.

"Quite the view, isn't it?"

Han's voice was calm and reassuring, instantly soothing the frayed edges of my nerves. Slowly, I turned to face him, my heartbeat gradually returning to its normal rhythm. He had a small smile engraved within his stoic expression.

I nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, it is."

"Brian sent me up here to find you,” he said and stepped closer, his presence comforting yet electrifying all at once as he stood next to me. “They're looking for you,"

Sorry. My crazy ex just texted me and almost scared the shit out of me. I felt like that would’ve been a conversation breaker, so instead, I sighed, tearing my gaze away from the horizon with a pang of guilt for disappearing without a word. Should’ve told someone I was coming here. "Well, you found me."

My gaze caught with his as his gaze lingered on me with an intensity that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. There was a brief silence between us, but it was not uncomfortable. Instead, it was filled with an unspoken understanding, a sense that Han saw right through the walls I've built around myself, and at that moment, I couldn't help but wonder what he saw when he looked at me. 

I felt exposed under his scrutiny. It was as if he saw through the facade I'd carefully crafted, glimpsing the turmoil that lay beneath. Panic threatened to claw its way back into my chest, but I pushed it down, refusing to let it surface.

Swallowing the bitter taste that formed in my mouth, I decided to break the silence, my voice steady. "I just needed a moment alone.”

"I get it," he replied simply, his tone gentle yet reassuring. His dark eyes met mine, and a shiver ran down my spine. But beneath the surface, there was a tension, a hesitation that I couldn’t quite shake. This was dangerous. This… This whole situation was a disaster waiting to unfold and I couldn’t afford to let myself get too close. I burned myself once and I got a reminder of the consequences not that long ago. Fear gripped me tightly, twisting my insides into knots as I tried to suppress the memories of my past but I wasn’t brave enough to do so.

Instinctively, I step back, creating a safe distance between us. It's not that I didn’t trust Han, despite meeting him only a few days ago. I didn’t trust myself and there was something about our connection that both enticed and terrified me. 

God, I was a mess, wasn’t I?

"Come on," Han's voice interrupted my tumultuous thoughts, breaking the spell that bound us in this moment of uncertainty. "Let's head back down."

I nodded silently, torn between the urge to flee and the longing to stay. But as I took a step forward to walk past him into the warehouse, heading towards the stairwell, I fought to ignore the ache that spread in my chest.

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series masterlist

[ecto-hazard]

I wanna make a tf2 oc so so bad but I’m terrible at drawing people. Got any pointers?

So you wanna learn how to draw humans. Good for you! Drawing humans is complicated as shit and theres a lot that goes into it. I still need to improve in some areas of anatomy, and especially with drawing shit like clothes. There's millions of good guides out there for drawing all these specific aspects, but they're going to vary in complexity, style, etc. So I've instead put together my bullshit guide for drawing humans that can apply to people of any style and skill level!!!!! Welcome to Grey's 3 steps to draw humans.

STEP 1. DRAW BAD.

People get bashed over the head with the advice of "just practice bro." But the realistic thing is that if you're a perfectionist, it'll make it difficult as shit to improve your art if you don't let your art be bad. This doesnt mean, oh draw poorly on purpose. This is more a mindset thing. Embrace the fact that, while your art might not be at the level you'd personally want it to be, it's still worth making. If you enjoy drawing, it shouldn't matter if its "bad." You'll draw tons and tons of "bad" stuff and eventually look back and realize you've gotten better, even subconsciously. But if you can't get over the hurdle of letting stuff you draw be "bad" sometimes, you'll probably be too frustrated to keep going.

STEP 2. Practice drawing blocky shapes BEFORE details.

This is a skill I learned in the two art classes I took, but you can learn it on your own too. Basically humans have a lot of details going on and it can get a little overwhelming trying to capture it all. Work big to small. Focus on overall shapes first. Keep your sketches light and messy, cause itll be easier for you to overcome the hurdle to change something if you don't like it. Gradually build up to drawing the more intricate shapes like fingers, facial features, etc. If you're doing a full render, capturing the overall shapes of lights and shadows is helpful too!

When it comes to drawing your first sketch, try not to get too caught up in those tutorials that make you draw a specific type of sketch with like all the circles and cylinders and straight lines, thats all fine and good but if you're starting out its just kinda confusing and misses the point. Those are tools that'll help out when you want to hone in your ability to draw things in perspective.

STEP 3. Don't draw humans if you don't enjoy it.

Have you tried drawing humans but just don't really like doing it? Then fucking dont baby!!!!! Don't miss out on making things you enjoy just cause these goddamn humans are in the way! Make em a furry, a mech, an object character, a disembodied gangle of nerves floating in the abyss. Hell if you don't like drawing at all, WRITE em instead! Don't feel shackled by this mortal coil! Shed that shit!!!! Draw whatever the fuck makes you happy, and you'll be on the right track.

Hope this helps!

[quietblueriver]

Could not stop thinking about Marisha discussing self-worth as Laudna’s fatal flaw and this emerged in a flurry last night and during lunch. It’s all Laudna, immediately after the conversation with the Hells after sword-gate, and it builds a bit from this. Don’t usually write from Laudna’s perspective but giving it a go. She deserves so much, y’all, ugh.

Okay, anyway, angst ahead.

-

There wasn’t going to be any easy drifting off, not after the events of the last hour, but it’s even more difficult without Imogen. Laudna has grown spoiled, there’s no denying it, and she misses the heat of Imogen’s body and the pleasant burn of her touch.

It’s her own fault, of course, there’s no denying that either, and the cold and lonesomeness are a fit punishment. And in any case, even if she didn’t deserve it, her eyes are still intermittently leaking ichor. There’d be no point in dirtying Imogen’s bedding as well.

The rest of the Hells also seem to be having trouble sleeping, aside from Chet, anyway, whose familiar, constant racket is broken by a chorus of shifting bodies and too-loud sighs. She can hardly blame them; after all, she’s the monster and she can’t even sleep with herself in the room.

Delilah has gone quiet, something Laudna appreciates usually, still appreciates now, but it’s a much closer call than usual. Because Laudna, left with herself and the thoughts that are really, truly her own, feels somehow both restless enough that her skin itches and so heavy that it’s almost as if the ground has remembered she shouldn’t be walking and is trying to suck her back into itself, into the stillness where she belongs.

It’s not the ground, not really, because there’s her bedroll and the floor and the floor below that, and likely a cellar, at least, and Imogen would roll her eyes at the joke and Laudna wants to peel back her skin and help her tendons escape. Instead, she forms strings of ichor between her fingers, twisting them absently as she thinks.

It’s not productive, she’s well aware, to keep running through the night’s events, the fight for the sword, the conversation with Imogen on the rooftop, the conversation with everyone else afterward. Still, she can’t stop, and maybe that’s fit punishment, too. If she’s going to try to use Delilah’s power, she’s going to have to make decisions like she did earlier and to deal with their fallout.

The niggling, snide voice in her head clears its proverbial throat. A remnant of Matilda, it has become bloated and ever more confident from three decades with Delilah, even if it now appears less frequently, smart enough to wait until Laudna is alone so that it can’t be challenged by Imogen, who may always come knocking even with her circlet.

The cadence and tone are of Matilda’s life as well, a bit of Master Elron, who used to make her stand in the front of the class when she got distracted, back rigid against the snickers of her classmates, and a bit of her grandmother, who used to pinch her until she bruised for any perceived infraction or imperfection. Sure of itself, always, and smug in its confidence.

Laudna forms fists, ichor squeezing between the gaps in her fingers and nails digging lightly into her palm as it speaks.

And what, exactly, makes you think that you’re strong enough to use Delilah? If you recall, you forced poor Imogen and all the others to come rescue you from the tree where she’d trapped you in your own mind. Have you changed so much in a few months? Grown so much more powerful?

It’s a fair point. She’d told Imogen, told the others, that she wants to use Delilah, that Delilah owes her. It’s rather easy to stand by the latter, murder and all that, but the former, while not a lie, feels, when she’s outside the passion of the moment, to be…a stretch.

Not a stretch. An impossibility. What you should have said is that you’re going to let Delilah use you. Isn’t that right?

The voice has never been kind or shy, but it has, undeniably, often been right. It was right when it reminded Matilda that she likely wouldn’t have had dirt thrown all over her face and dress if she’d just pretended, acted a bit more like the other children instead of saying all the things that popped into her mind.

It was right when it reminded her that she wouldn’t have been murdered if she’d just been a little smarter, a little less gullible. After all, what possibly could have prompted a lady to invite Matilda as company for dinner? Not that she should have anticipated murder, of course–the voice wasn’t paranoid; it merely knew enough about Matilda, about who she was and what she could offer, to be pragmatically suspicious–but there was no world in which that invitation came without strings.

Now, it’s right that Laudna using Delilah is, at best, a tenuous proposition.

She turns her foot and ankle, twists and presses against the sturdy floor until each joint aches in protest, threatens to dislodge. Unwilling to risk waking the others with the noise of her bones, which are as likely to escape their bounds with a shocking loud crack as with a muted pop, she rides the edge and uses the hurt to silence the voice for a moment, assesses herself.

She is not a liar. It’s understandable, that they’re suspicious, that Imogen is suspicious, even if it hurts her, but Laudna cannot help that the truth right now seems much less like a looking glass and much more like a mud puddle.

She believed fiercely what she said about Delilah in their conversations tonight. She believed that she had a real chance, that she could do something good with all of her bad. It was truth to her.

She does not dismiss the Laudna of that moment now in the tempering darkness. That optimism and fervency have allowed her to survive this long. The beliefs and confidence they inspire are genuine. When the flame burns lower, though, she can acknowledge that her most ardent optimism is a force against the ruthlessness of reality and that it cannot see the full truth and maintain itself.

Even without the fire of the zealot, though, she still hopes. She is uninterested in doom as an outlook, finds it unproductive and just as divorced from reality as its opposite. So a part of her, small as it may be in the face of cruel facts, hopes very much to use Delilah, hopes that she can harness whatever power is available to her in service to Imogen and their friends. She hopes and she’s going to try to give that hope its best chance.

A toe frees itself from its joint, the click quiet enough that Laudna is confident only she could hear it, but she reaches down to force it back and then stops her motion anyway. The voice returns.

Trying is all well and good, but outmatching her would require someone much more capable, dear. You know that. You’ve always been a little easily led, and we’ve been down that road before, hmm? Ask Orym.

She brings her thumb to her mouth and bites at the nail, tugging until a large portion comes loose. The pain is more than she anticipated, deeper into her quick than she meant, and she sucks the raw skin dripping black into her mouth to stifle the noise that threatens to escape.

As it throbs satisfyingly, she thinks about Orym and the sword. It killed them. It killed her. It was evil and it didn’t belong, and she wanted it gone. It was her choice. Her choice.

Except that Laudna hadn’t been lying to Imogen on the roof, either, when she said she wasn’t sure whether it was worth distinguishing herself from Delilah. She confused even herself as she wavered between her hope and her fears, a messy, sticky thing and probably the most complete view of the truth.

It doesn’t surprise her that her love for Imogen, her desire to protect her, left her grasping for coherence, her own mind unwilling to withhold what might help her but unable to reconcile the parts of itself, muddling confident reassurances and righteousness with doubts and fears and warnings. All true but so obviously incompatible when presented together.

Still, it’s easier to prioritize when it’s Imogen’s future that’s at stake. Some things are constant. Laudna is a dead end and always has been. And as for the rest, well, with Imogen on the line, hope loses to the present moment, and she must admit that she isn’t sure how to distinguish herself from Delilah.

The natural consequence of that particular admission is that she can no longer honestly be sure whether her hope, her plan to use Delilah, isn’t itself the product of Delilah’s meddling, a ploy to get Laudna to give what’s left of herself willingly.

There it is, the voice whispers as the painful pulsing of her thumb eases. If there’s no point in distinguishing, what, exactly, is choice? If there’s no point in distinguishing, how much more of you is there really left to give?

She digs an incisor into the exposed quick and rolls to her side so that she can torture herself with a view of Imogen, the familiar bow of her spine as she sleeps. Laudna wants to count her vertebrae with her fingers, sates herself by counting the toes of the foot that has been flung out from her blanket and then counting them again and again. There are five each time. The voice is quiet.

Laudna loves her, stops the implication of Delilah’s infiltration at the door of that love. This, still, is hers. She lets herself believe the silence inside her is motivated by agreement rather than pity.

She removes her thumb from her mouth so that she might gnaw at her lip, dig her incisor into the fragile skin with more pressure than is required. She draws the wound into her mouth and holds it against the back of her front teeth, ichor sticky on her tongue.

Laudna doesn’t want pity, even from herself. Pity is what you give to someone who has lost all control of their circumstances. Pity is what you give to a lost cause.

The Hells don’t pity her. The opposite, really. They seem to believe Laudna is someone. That Laudna is special.

There’s a reason she chose you. You know that, right? Imogen’s plaintive voice echoes, edged with frustration, and Laudna hears herself, hears the truth. I don’t think I do.

Because she’s almost certain that if there is a truth of her lives, of the most remarkable pieces of her lives, it is this: If she has ever been special, it has been because others have made her so. Vex’ahlia made Matilda worth killing. Delilah makes Laudna powerful. Imogen makes Laudna palatable.

Without them, she’s simply Laudna, who was simply Matilda, who was strange but entirely forgettable once one left her presence. No one, when it came down to it. Unfortunately for her, she was no one who, if the observer were quite drunk or had terrible vision, vaguely resembled someone quite her opposite. Someone who was beautiful and powerful and far too smart to allow herself to be tortured and hung from a tree in living effigy. And being that kind of no one in a town with Delilah Briarwood turned out to be a death sentence.

It’s an incredible kindness for the others to try to build her up, to tell her that Delilah chose her, that it wasn’t merely chance or awful luck. They’re her friends, and quite good ones at that, as far as Laudna can tell. They believe what they’re saying, and she hardly knows what to do with so much good intention.

But Laudna knows better. After all, they never knew Matilda, and they only came to know Laudna through Imogen’s brave and inexplicable affection, which is so steadfast that it shames strangers who once would have thrown rocks at her into feeling their repulsion without acting on it. What’s a grimace to a stone? Although Imogen’s indignation at that relatively small unkindness is still a force. Between Imogen and Delilah, Laudna was allowed to become something more than herself to their little group.

As for Imogen herself, her perception of Laudna is a mystery Laudna is quite certain she’ll never understand. For some reason, Imogen sees her in the gracious light of love, where Laudna’s shadows become possibilities, her sharpest and most feral features softened and blurred. Transformative.

Barely conscious, eyes clamped closed against the searing pain at her ear, a woman’s voice close enough that she can feel the contrast of her breath against the cold damp of the air. It’s confusing, the conversational tone against the background of repeated, erratic clangs of something heavy against metal and what she’s beginning to suspect are her own screams. “Not quite the resemblance I’d hoped, in the end, but don’t worry, dear. From the right angle with the right light, you’ll look just like her. Now be a good girl and hold still for the other side, hmm?”

Transformative.

It’s such a beautiful way to see someone, so very like Imogen, but in the end, it’s an impairment like any other, really. Although what a gift it has been, that Imogen cannot see her for what she is.

She licks at the last of the ichor on her lip and curls her own body in a mirror to Imogen’s. It is Delilah’s voice that whispers, That’s quite enough, I think. Sleep, child.

And she does.

[skipper1331]

Poser // Lina Magull

a/n: based off this request. Enjoy:)

You loved to take pictures since your childhood. It didn‘t matter If it was the sky, a tree, an animal or anything. Everything was perfect for a picture, you just had to have the right perspective (and some editing skills).

So as many people you turned your passion in to your job. You even had your own photo gallery and were internationally known.

Let’s just say, you did your job damn well.

A few years ago though, you got a job offer - Bayern Munich - you couldn‘t say no. How could you? Sports photographer? You loved it.

You met the staff members the first day in to your new job, they were all super nice and welcoming, thankfully the language barrier wasn‘t as difficult - you had been in Germany often enough to have a nice conversation. It made it easier to feel comfortable and like Munich could be your home for the next few years.

You didn‘t meet the team until the recovery training after their first game of the season. Alexander Straus introduced you so no one would wonder why you were traveling with the team or that you‘ll send them pictures in a high quality of them to upload on their social media.

And that‘s how you met your girlfriend. Lina Magull.

The moment she saw you, she was intrigued by your beauty and your work.

It didn‘t take her long to ask you out and eventually to be her girlfriend. Strong years as a couple ahead of you.

-

It was a hot summer day, pre-season had officially started and everybody was full with new energy.

You trailed along the pitch where the girls did their drills, your camera at the ready. The lightning was great, it made your job a lot easier and you wouldn’t have to edit too much later on. Taking more pictures of the new signings then of the rest was normal at the pre-season time. It was your job to present new players and enchant fans. But you took many pictures of everyone in general.

"Liebe! Soll ich für dich posen?" the german yelled as she saw you frowning at your camera, the typical wrinkle between your brows, biting your lip in concentration. As respond you lifted your camera, looking through it. The midfielder loved to pose for you, it didn‘t matter If it was on the pitch or behind closed doors, she enjoyed seeing you work. Two birds with one stone.

She started off with a few jumps, her arms stretching in all directions, then some dance moves. Slow dance, party moves as if strangers were around and moves as If she was wasted and with you and/or her friends. Your finger was almost constantly clicking on the camera's shutter button. There will definitely be some really good pictures.

Some girls even joined her and started to dance the Macarena dance. It was funny as hell.

The Munich girls respected you, not only because you were Linas (long term) girlfriend, but also because you were funny and sweet. As well they liked the pictures you took of them. You had a good instinct for the camera, years of practice, and also a good human instinct, you knew which pictures the girls liked of themselves and which they didn't, without them ever seeing some of the pictures. That’s what made you and your talent special. That little certain something, your own style hidden in every picture, your signature touch. You were an important part of the team.

"Are there any good pictures, my love?" the german asked, wrapping her arm around your waist. When did she get to you?

"I think so, they‘re always great when you‘re there" you giggled, winking. "Such a flirt" she laughed before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "hey! you are just photogenic" you chuckled, clicking rapidly on the camera to annoy her, yourself going down in crazy positions to 'get the right angle' as she already did new poses; kissie faces, heart shapes out of her hands.

"You‘re a total poser" you chuckled, refering to one of your favorite marvel movies. "You did not just use a Black Widow quote on me, did you?!" she yelled, walking backwards to her team mates, her eyes still on you.

"What If I did?"

The german always mocked you for the love you had for the marvel universe yet secretly enjoying the times were you would force or beg her to watch them with you. The excitement your eyes held as she gave in. She even cried watching Endgame (who wouldn‘t??)

To make you happy and laugh, your girlfriend jumped up before landing in the typical Black Widow pose which she corrected slightly on the floor. You immediately lifted the camera and took a photo. Only one. It would have ruined the moment if you had taken several, somehow you knew that it was the photo.

You couldn‘t help yourself but whisper, "such a poser" one of the most iconic lines of the one and only Yelena Belova.

-

While the girls were in the gym, you connected your camera to your laptop about to finish your job for today. You edited the important pics and sent them to the respective player. Editing does take a certain amount of time so the remaining pictures would get your attention at home on the couch or the bed, something comfy.

The knock on your office door pulled you out of your daydreams, your girlfriend standing in the frame "Ready to go home?" she asked. You answered with a nod and grabbed your belongings before walking out of your office, your fingers interwining with the midfielders.

At home, the two of you watched some random football match, the brunette laying exhausted on your chest while your hand massaged her scalp. As soft snores filled the room, you looked at your phone - the picture of your favorite girl in the Widow pose as your new backround. No editing needed, the picture was perfect just as you had predicted.

Maybe one day there‘ll be a special Lina Magull exhibition in your gallery - you definitely had a lot of perfect pictures of your favorite poser.

————————

translation:

Liebe - love

Soll ich für dich posen? - Do you want me to pose for you?

————————

[tossawary]

"This was eminently logical. If Luo Binghe wasn't shoved into the Endless Abyss, then he wouldn't be able to activate his golden finger. If the protagonist couldn't become overpowered, then where was the satisfaction?

Therefore, the Endless Abyss scenario was unavoidable. And as this novel's number one loser, number one scum villain, the execution of this glorious task, naturally, absolutely, inescapably, fell to Shen Qingqiu.

Yet unwilling to resign himself to this fate, Shen Qingqiu asked again and ended up sighing, still unable to give up completely. Luo Binghe, who was currently like a little sun, was destined to fall and become that brooding, cold-blooded, demon youth. Even a transmigrator like Shen Qingqiu, who by all rights ought to have access to cheat powers, was unable to change this inevitability.

He had been designated to be the man who threw the protagonist into the Endless Abyss, thereby catalyzing his overpowered, legendary journey.

This job's opportunities for growth were really terrible.

If Shen Qingqiu failed to do this, he would lose ten thousand satisfaction points - he couldn't become more thoroughly dead than that. But if he did do this, once Luo Binghe activated his golden finger, he definitely wouldn't let him off.

The work was difficult, the pay was meager, the benefits - were nonexistent. What the hell was up with this?!"

Volume 1, Chapter 3, page 140.

I do enjoy it when Shen Yuan falls into complaining about his "job" like this. You should join the transmigrators' union, bro! I suppose "job" is a more bearable and comedic way to think about the situation.

More of Shen Yuan assuming what "satisfaction" means here! To be fair to him, the System's goals are extremely unclear and the tasks that it has set are also unclear. It's all very vague. (Frankly, I'm still fuzzy on what the System as a character is doing.) Luo Binghe falling into the Endless Abyss and gaining the Xin Mo sword and becoming an overpowered stallion protagonist are the key concepts of Proud Immortal Demon Way, and Shen Yuan thinks that he's been set the task of helping PIDW happen but a little better.

Shen Yuan's perspective here is funny to me because he... does seem to believe that PIDW Binghe was ultimately satisfied by his life? That the PIDW lifestyle of conquest was meaningful and fulfilling? I do think PIDW Binghe enjoyed many, MANY pleasures, as the Emperor of everything, and did take satisfaction when he took revenge on his enemies, but that's not the same as contentment. Overpowered and legendary? Who could ask for more?

I tend to write Airplane Bro as being at least vaguely aware of this, as the writer of it all, and as someone I think was extremely dissatisfied with his own life and his incredibly popular story for a number of reasons. I also think it's funny to have him go, "Uh, bro, Binghe was miserable, actually? Obviously?"