#I feel like I could add more and that I may not make complete sense in some regards but I am very tired

[onewhomariaentrusted]

Tell the class a scene you really like from DBH 👀

Oh this is probably going to be such an unoriginal opinion, especially for a Connor fan. But my fave would have to be the Bridge chapter scene. It's literally nothing but a tense conversation, yet it carries more weight for me than many of the other action packed scenes.

Hank having his "oh shit" moment where he finally comes to the realisation that androids may just be alive. And it's shaken him. I mean sure, he's worked with Connor for a day or so, and sure, he's seen some snippets throughout the investigation. Mostly androids running away or lashing out due to their mistreatment -- but robots showing love for one another? The arguably most human thing you could do? Hank didn't need the assistance in rationalising the want for another drink, but the Tracis sure helped anyway. At this point, I don't want to say that Hank's viewpoint is entirely changed, since if you're playing as machine Connor it can end quite badly, but it's what I would consider the most prominent turning point.

But what about Connor? I'm usually playing along the deviant route, so my Connor is usually snarky, but not an entire asshole like he is when you play full machine. And in those playthroughs, there's several small moments that Hank has seen Connor act sympathetic. But is it real? I like the fact that when Hank asks Connor why he didn't shoot the Tracis, the option for "Truth" is what leads to higher software instability. It may or may not be intended, but I'm definitely one of those that believe that Connor was designed to be a deviant. A deviant in the biggest amount of denial the world has ever seen. However, this chapter is what I would consider to be Connor's turning point.

I mentioned that I usually play the deviant route, but I would also note that when I do play machine Connor, I play him as manipulative. He will do and say whatever he can to achieve his goals -- this usually means being nice to Hank where possible -- but not at the risk of the mission. In this chapter however, if you've been acting as a machine this entire time, many dialogue options are locked out. And from memory there is no way to increase the relationship with Hank in this scene. There is no lying to him. No manipulation. It's either cool neutrality, or aggression. And for reasons I can't quite put into words, I really enjoy that fact.

[violetduchess]

Hot things they do:

Summary: Hot things the Hashira do.

CW: Suggestive content

Note: The people have spoken and I have delivered.

Rengoku

Rengoku has a habit of running his hands through his hair, a gesture that's become almost second nature to him. It's not a nervous habit, but rather a confident and unconscious display of his self-assured nature.

Every time Rengoku runs his hands through his hair, a few strands inevitably fall in front of his face. The way those strands frame his handsome features adds an irresistible charm, making him even more attractive.

After an intense training session, Rengoku's body is drenched in sweat, highlighting the contours of his toned muscles. It's a sight that leaves you mesmerized and longing for his touch.

Those strong arms of his, glistening with sweat, hold an undeniable allure. They exude a sense of power and strength that could easily overpower you, and the mere thought of it sends shivers down your spine.

In your wildest fantasies, you can't help but imagine being at Rengoku's mercy, his arms wrapped around you tightly. The thought of him using his strength to pleasure and dominate you is both thrilling and irresistible.

Rengoku's physical prowess combined with his gentle and caring nature creates an intoxicating blend. The contrast between his powerful presence and his tenderness is what makes him utterly captivating and irresistible.

You find yourself yearning for those moments after training, when Rengoku's muscles are still slightly taut from exertion. The sight of his sculpted physique fuels your desires, and you can't help but crave the touch of his strong, capable hands.

Sanemi

Sanemi's habit of using simple phrases like "hm?" or "mhm" may seem minimal, but there's something about the way he says them that sends your heart racing. The rawness and directness in his voice have a captivating effect, drawing you in and making every word he utters incredibly significant.

When Sanemi wants your undivided attention, he lifts your chin with the top of his pointer finger, gently guiding your gaze to meet his. The intimate contact ignites a surge of electricity within you, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. Face-to-face with Sanemi, it's as if the entire world fades away, leaving only the two of you in an intense connection.

Whenever Sanemi is near, it feels as though you're floating in orbit, completely enthralled by his presence. His commanding aura and magnetic personality are captivating, making it hard to tear your eyes away from him. Every interaction becomes a mesmerizing experience, leaving you spellbound.

While Sanemi may not be one to share grand gestures or elaborate speeches, his silence holds great significance. In those moments when he chooses not to speak, his focused gaze and unwavering attention communicate volumes. The intensity in his eyes conveys more than words ever could, leaving you breathless and eager for his next move.

Sanemi's presence has an undeniable magnetic pull, drawing you closer and leaving you captivated. Whether it's the sound of his voice or the touch of his finger against your skin, the effect he has on you is undeniable. In his company, the world around you fades into insignificance, and all that matters is the connection you share.

Giyuu

In the early morning hours, as the sun gently kisses the horizon, Giyuu's voice awakens. It carries a certain allure, a perfect balance of raspy tones and a hint of sleepiness. It's the kind of voice that makes you want to listen to him speak endlessly, losing yourself in the melodic cadence of his words.

During his training sessions at home, there are moments when Giyuu dons clothing that is just slightly too short, revealing glimpses of his well-defined abs as he stretches his body. It's a sight that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, an enticing display of his physical strength and dedication.

Every now and then, when his gaze catches yours, Giyuu playfully remarks that "staring isn't polite," his deadpan manner adding an unexpected charm to the situation. It's his way of acknowledging your attention while maintaining his composed demeanor, a playful interaction that leaves a lingering sense of warmth and teasing in the air.

Gyomei

Gyomei's protective nature always has you by his side, seeking comfort in your presence. He instinctively pulls you close, finding solace in your proximity, especially in crowded places.

You feel a gentle pressure against your lower back as Gyomei's hand rests there, creating a comforting connection that sends pleasant shivers down your spine. It's a subtle gesture that makes you acutely aware of the effect he unknowingly has on you.

In public, Gyomei's preference for keeping you close is evident. He wraps his arm around your waist, creating a shield of security and making you feel cherished. The physical contact sends warmth flooding through your veins.

The sensation of Gyomei's hand on your lower back becomes a source of both comfort and excitement. It's a touch that reassures him and stirs something deep within you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection between you.

Gyomei's protective grip on your waist in public spaces becomes a silent declaration of his trust and reliance on your presence. His touch radiates a calming energy, reminding you of the unspoken bond that exists between you.

Mitsuri

Mitsuri's excitement is contagious. Whenever she gets enthusiastic about something, her eyes sparkle like a starry summer night, and her vibrant voice carries her joy for miles.

There's an undeniable charm in Mitsuri's little habit of bouncing up and down when she's excited something else bounces too. It's like her energy can't be contained, and it adds an adorable touch to her already endearing personality.

Animals are drawn to Mitsuri's gentle nature and warm energy. They have a natural affinity for her, and it's not uncommon to see furry creatures flocking to her side. She welcomes their presence with open arms and finds comfort in their company.

Uzui

Uzui, in moments of vulnerability, finds comfort in resting his head in his partner's lap. It's an intimate gesture that creates a sense of closeness and trust between them.

When Uzui slowly opens his eyes, his gaze carries a magnetic quality. It's as if the world falls into place around him, and his partner can't help but be captivated by the depth and intensity within his gaze.

There's something undeniably alluring about the way Uzui lowers his head, whether in deep thought or as a display of his relaxed demeanor. His partner finds themselves drawn to his subtle movements, which exude confidence and a touch of mystery.

Uzui's undeniable self-assurance is a magnetic quality that draws others to him. He knows he's attractive, and his partner can't help but be intrigued by his confident presence.

Uzui's effortless charm and attractiveness seem to emanate from within. It's as if he effortlessly carries an aura of refinement and sensuality, leaving his partner unable to resist his magnetic appeal.

Shinobu

Shinobu has a penchant for oversized sweaters, particularly during the colder months. Despite the slightly loose fit, she still manages to look incredibly stylish, especially with the cozy sweaters emphasizing her delicate frame.

However, due to their oversized nature, the sleeves of the sweaters tend to be a bit too long for Shinobu. As a result, she often finds herself with sweaterpaws, her delicate hands peeking out from the oversized sleeves. along with the top of her breast,

While Shinobu doesn't actively sing on her own accord, she possesses a beautiful singing voice. Most of the time, she unconsciously hums tunes to herself when she's lost in her thoughts or at ease. The melodic hums serve as a testament to her tranquil nature.

Obanai

Whenever a single strand of hair dares to stray onto his partner's face, Obanai can't help but brush it away with the lightest touch. He does it with such nonchalance that it often catches them off guard, leaving them flustered and secretly thrilled by his subtle display of affection.

Obanai finds great delight in teasing his partner by brushing away those tiny stray hairs. He'll do it playfully, pretending to be completely absorbed in the act while slyly observing their adorable reaction. It becomes their little game, with both of them cherishing these tender moments.

Muichiro

Muichiro has a habit of fixing his gaze on you, his eyes filled with adoration, and he can't seem to take them away from your presence.

Whenever you catch him staring, a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and his dimples make a subtle appearance, adding to his charming demeanor.

You can't help but feel a blush creep up your cheeks as you ask him what he's looking at, only to receive a gentle shake of his head accompanied by a quiet smile, leaving you wondering about the thoughts behind his adoring gaze.

Muichiro's unwavering attention and admiration for you make you feel incredibly special and cherished, as if you're the center of his world.

His silent adoration speaks volumes, expressing a depth of emotion that transcends words, creating a connection between you that is both sweet and intimate.

Despite his quiet nature, Muichiro's eyes communicate his feelings with such clarity and sincerity, leaving you with a warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart.

It's a delightful and slightly embarrassing secret between the two of you, as you both understand the unspoken language of his adoring gaze and the love it conveys.

All rights reserved @violetduchess. All works of fanfiction belong to me, please do not copy, translate or repost any works without my express permission. Thank you.~☆

[crossdressingdeath]

A thing I wish DAO went into more: the way Alistair is in some ways incredibly selfish. Like, the way he refuses to take charge of the group is treated as kind of endearing in the text, but the game doesn't really get into what a massive burden he just... drops on the junior Warden present with no warning or discussion. Think about it: the Warden is heavily implied to be very young (possibly younger than Alistair, definitely around the same age), most of them have no real experience in leadership, several of them have no experience in the world outside their small corner, all of them have only been Wardens for a few days. And Alistair dumps leadership of the group on them and refuses to take any of that weight. Does your Warden like leadership? Are they any good at it? Is it exhausting and difficult for them? Alistair doesn't care! He doesn't want to lead, and that means you have to lead, and whether or not you want to lead has no bearing on that. It's not a discussion, there's no suggestion of sharing the responsibility of leadership as the Wardens of the group; Alistair metaphorically throws the responsibility at you and runs.

But if you go for low approval with Alistair it's basically all about calling him childish and immature, even though I think a much more compelling low approval dynamic is the Warden despising Alistair for putting so much on them with no hesitation, but being stuck with him (because they know as well as he does that they need all hands on deck Warden-wise) and stuck with that burden of leadership (because a Warden kind of has to be in charge of the group and even if one didn't no one else in the group would be very good as a leader in this situation, and Alistair has made it very clear that he won't take it). Even at high approval it would be very compelling to have this sense of resentment at how Alistair just assumed they'd take on the burden of leadership and refuses to take any of it for himself. But that aspect gets completely ignored in the story, you don't really get the chance to raise the matter aside from asking why you're in charge despite him being the senior Warden present a couple of times.

It also adds something really spicy to the fallout of sparing Loghain, though, because... Alistair forced the Warden to take on leadership. He made them be the one to make these hard choices. It's never been a discussion, it's never been the Warden's choice whether or not they take on responsibility for these tough decisions, Alistair always just expects them to do it. And now they've made a call he doesn't like, and he abandons the group on the eve of battle because of his wounded feelings? I'd argue that's as much a betrayal as sparing Loghain if not more so, and certainly more of a betrayal of Duncan's memory; Duncan understood that a good Warden must be driven by necessity, not emotion or even morality, and I feel like in the Warden's place he likely would've made the same call. They need Wardens around to kill the Archdemon, as many as they can get, and even one more could make the difference between victory and defeat. The Warden and Alistair may not know the details, but with the most senior Warden present saying they should make Loghain a Warden instead of killing him a logical assumption would be he has a very good reason for saying so and maybe they should listen to him! I would've loved it if during the argument with Alistair after sparing Loghain you could really get into that "You forced the responsibility of making these decisions on me when I never wanted or asked for it, you don't get to throw a tantrum now that I've made one you don't like" aspect of it, but you... don't. And that's a shame, because it takes a lot of depth away from his dynamic with the Warden.

[thoughtfulfiction]

Shift in the Routine II

Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Hope this one gives you all the feels. Joe requests are open!

masterlist

“Can you just…tell me exactly what happened?From the beginning.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face, thinking about the various ups and downs you’d been through emotionally the last few days. “There’s nothing new to tell, I told him I need to think about things and he was supportive of that. He really hurt me Rach, I can’t just—forget about it and move on.”

“I completely understand where you’re coming from. It’s just,” she pauses, trying to find the words. “What about—”

“The game on Monday night? Under no circumstances am I watching that,” you promise her, crossing your arms in protest of what was expected of you.

“Bengals defense missing a tackle? Likely place for them to be. This game is going to give me an ulcer.” You slammed your drink on the table, putting your head in your hands in hopes that they’d get a stop if you looked away for a bit.

Rachel watched silently, still trying to understand the rules of this football thing. She found you more entertaining than the game most of the time.

“Oh my god, how many times are we going to go for it on fourth and short and not convert?” This season had been full of trying moments, forcing you think back on the few times you snuck in to catch a peak of what Joe was seeing on film when these things would happen.

“FACEMASK?” You yell. “There’s no way in the world they just miss that? Hello? They’re literally trying to rip his head off, that should’ve been a first dow—wait,” you pause, standing up out of your seat for the first time in a few hours. “Is he…is he limping? He’s limping, right?”

Rachel sits up, joining in your concern but also slightly amused at the situation, considering the fact that you said you weren’t going to watch the game and the two of you had been glued to the tv before kickoff. “No matter how much you don’t want to admit it to anyone, including yourself, you still care about him. A lot.”

“I do care,” you swallowed, feeling like your heart was in your stomach at the thought of being in pain. That sleeve didn’t look like it was going to protect anything. “Maybe I care a little too much? Which is exactly why I’m in this predicament. Because let’s be real, on paper? We do not make sense. He doesn’t even flinch spending $3 million and I cry a little if I add too many things to my Amazon cart.”

Rachel laughs, tossing a few pieces of Chex mix into her mouth. “That’s because your job is stingy with raises. And with Joe? Just talk to him. Go see him tomorrow, give him his gift and go from there, see how you feel about everything.”

You admired her ability to put a positive spin on a situation that you felt was pretty much doomed. Maybe you could have one more day of happiness with him tomorrow before walking away for good. That may be your best bet, to just cut all communication and quit cold turkey. After his birthday of course. Dumping someone before their birthday just sounded really terrible and you’d spent a long time getting him this special present so there was no way you weren’t going to see the look on his face in person as he opened it.

The drive felt uncomfortably long. They had gotten a much needed win and he seemed happy enough postgame. But what if he didn’t want to see you? You’d been so focused inward on your feelings and what you needed to do that you really hadn’t had the time to even wonder what Joe’s thought process was. Just in case he wasn’t in the mood for company, you knocked on the door instead of letting yourself in.

Clad in a purple Nike hoodie you remembered borrowing a few times, there he stood in front of you with a blank look on his face.

Solid start.

“Why did you knock? You could’ve just come in.” His hair looks extra fluffy, like he woke up not too long ago, taking it extremely easy after coming home late and taking quite a few hits in last night’s game.

You pushed down the nerves, determined to make today neither awkward nor painful for all parties involved. “Happy birthday. I brought your favorite smoothie from Rune and…did a package come in this morning?”

He thanks you, grabbing the drink out of your hand and closing the door behind you. You can tell he’s moving gingerly. “Yeah I had them put it in the garage. So…are we still—”

“In relationship limbo? Definitely. But today is your day and I’m not a monster,” you joke as a smile forms on his face. And I wanted to see you for myself to make sure you weren’t going to lie. How’s your knee?”

Joe looks at you affectionately, almost visibly resisting the urge to reach out to you. His first instinct was always to give you a comforting squeeze or a gentle hand on your shoulder as a form of reassurance, he just wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate given the circumstances.“Careful, it almost sounded like you were worried about me for a second there.”

“I do not care about you. I care about my favorite football team’s starting quarterback and his well being for the rest of the season. That’s all. Don’t read too much into it.” You were lying through your teeth and both of you knew it.

He nods slightly, catching you looking at his leg or any sign of pain in his face if he so much as leaned over the counter. And if you still had a soft spot for him somewhere in there that was enough. “I feel ok. It’s sore but it’s Tuesday and the day after games is always touch and go. You know that.”

You quickly learned just how exhausting some postgame days were. His body bruised easily so sometimes he looked like he’d honestly been in a fight of some kind. And lost…badly. Moving around was slow and painful as if he were closer to being put in a retirement home than he was to playing another bruising game the next week. But the next day was usually back to normal and you were always in awe at his ability to bounce back. Having everything laid out in front of you like this made it easy to understand why he had such a strict schedule. Eating and sleeping and everything in between were catered to help him recover.

“Are you ready to open your gift?”

Joe sighs, stating that he doesn’t need more presents but you give him a look and he knows it’s best to just follow you to the garage. “I didn’t realize how big this is,” he notes, a hint of apprehension in his voice, “you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

He runs his fingers along the top of wrapping, deep in thought for a few seconds before you urge him to open it. Carefully peeling back the paper, Joe pulls back the layers to reveal a one of a kind Seinfeld painting.

“Before you say anything, look at the back,” you tell him when he looks at you like he’s about to open his mouth. On the back is a handwritten note from Jerry Seinfeld himself. Joe’s jaw actually drops and he’s rendered speechless, silently rereading the words over and over. “It goes great with the pants, that I somehow knew you’d be wearing today. How predictable.”

He shrugs and looks down at the well worn blue pants, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “What can I say?”

“That you’re a millionaire who’s also a serial outfit repeater? What would Anna Wintour say if she could see you now?”

“She’d probably say that I pull off the lazy look very well,” he retorts with a laugh. Looking back at the painting and then at you, Joe feels a rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. He had no idea how you got this but he’s sure it took a long time and you went to great lengths to make it possible, to make him happy. “Thank you,” he whispers, suddenly not trusting his voice.

You find yourself in his arms before you even register that your body has moved, clinging onto him like your life depends on it. Part of you wanted to stay, be in this moment and let yourself fall back into the routine of a grueling season with the person who clearly brought you an immense joy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Joe was your peace, your picnic on a sunny day and it was scary to see how easily the two of you hadn’t missed a beat, teasing each other and talking like lifelong friends who could read each other like a book. The thing that was breaking your heart the most is that Joe had become your best friend, the one you could talk to about any and everything while simultaneously making your heart beat out of your chest at the effortless romance that came from this playful and unexpected connection.

But was that really enough? When you gave his body one more squeeze before stepping back, Joe couldn’t help the awful thought going through his mind that this could be the last hug. Not wanting to tear himself away from the embrace, he awkwardly and very hesitantly lets you go, standing alone in the garage after you wish him happy birthday again and leave. All that progress he’s thought the two of you had just made was out the door and he was stuck with the coolest gift he’d ever received and a sense of emptiness inside him that only you could fill.

The next day in the facility he was locked in. Focused solely on football from the moment he walked in, went through walkthrough as he tried to avoid the Hard Knocks crew and conducted his weekly press conference like it was another day. Only after he got in the car did he allow himself to really acknowledge that he was missing you. Yesterday was supposed to have helped and it did, but it also just made him realize that life was just better with you around and he couldn’t keep letting you walk away.

He’d admittedly been quiet last night at dinner with his parents and when they asked if he was okay he just told them that the season was weighing on him a bit, not exactly ready to divulge the fact that he was seeing someone and had potentially ruined it all in the same breath. That may result in two many questions he wasn’t ready to answer. So he scheduled time to speak with the one person he could always turn to for guidance and perspective.

And 24 hours later, as soon as he walked in the door, he set his stuff down and went upstairs to his room for an emergency Zoom meeting with his therapist. After the session was over and he had a moment to think, he pondered his therapist’s words urging him to think about one defining moment that encapsulates your relationship to guide him in his next steps.

The two of you had finished eating dinner during the bye week on the couch. Sushi boxes were discarded on the table as you forced him to watch some cooking show. You slid your feet under his leg, desperately searching for warmth in places where the blanket just wasn’t enough.

“Your feet cold again?” You nod. “Babe, you might have circulation issues or something, should probably get that checked out,” he grins, lifting himself up so he can grab your legs and put them in his lap. His touch instantly brings heat to your limbs, shooing away the frigid air and replacing it with a soft glow that you’re pretty sure has surrounded you since you and Joe made things official.

Once you’ve warmed up enough you cross over to the other side of the couch to wrap yourself up in him, as close as you possibly can. Nights like this feel like his own little peace of heaven, your arm resting casually on his chest and your bodies practically glued to each other, becoming one simultaneous heartbeat. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head, laying there in complete bliss, all of worries about football, the team and their season out the window for a bit. The weight of carrying a franchise is easily lifted when you’re around, keeping his feet on the ground in times when he would have his head in the clouds. For one second everything makes sense and it’s perfect…until it hits him square in the chest.

He’s in love.

Joe comes back to himself, snapping out of that bye week memory wiping a tear that he hadn’t realize was coming down his face. His heart tightens at recognizing why he’d lashed out at you and said those horrible things. It wasn’t football stress at all. It was fear driving him, he reverted back to the person he was trying to work on. And instead of being honest, he’d built an emotional wall around himself disguised as work stress to keep himself from saying those three words at a time he thought could be too soon for the two of you and scare you off. Because it was definitely terrifying him, even if he felt it. And now he may have lost you as a result of his actions.

On Friday, he actually looked forward to enjoy the off day, after he got his morning workout in at the facility. And then you texted him to tell him you were walking into the house.

You looked nervous and he didn’t like it. “Is this a bad time?” He shakes his head no, unsure if he wants to do this right now. The quarterback was really regretting coming home right about now. Being at the stadium watching the guys play golf would’ve been a much faster but still painful death. This was just torture.

“I’ve been thinking…a lot. And,” you take in a deep breath, hoping that filling your lungs with lots of air can make what you have to say a bit easier.

Joe pales, thinking that you’ve put off breaking up with him because of his birthday. He wants to brace himself for impact. He should respect your wishes, whether he agrees or not, but you both know he isn’t one to go down without a fight. “Before you dump me, I just—I have to tell you how sorry I am. You bulldozed through my life like freight train with your royalty jokes and your horrible day and I knew I needed more. Wanted to know everything about you. But I’m not great at this. Emotions aren’t easy to talk about and I usually pride myself on not showing them and you’ve brought them out of me. So when things got a little too real, I shut down. You’re one of the greatest things in my life but I really messed it up.”

“Joe…” you say quietly, begging the tears not to come.

He stops you, “if I don’t get this out, I might not get another chance. I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t want to be around you when the truth is that sometimes it’s all I want. You mentioned schedules and—and routines. Nowhere in my plans did it include falling for someone this soon and I pushed you away because I was scared, not because you’re a distraction but because—being with you makes me have to admit that the things I feel for you aren’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m sorry I hurt you in the midst of realizing that.”

You look at him, trying to memorize every one of his features. The natural bags under his eyes are a bit more pronounced, a slight glimmer in his ocean eyes give away all of the emotions written on his face. He looks devastated, a look all too familiar to you since you and the entire country have seen him look dejected and defeated several times throughout the season. But there’s something more distressing hidden behind his gaze. An indescribable amount of worry etched across his features.

Joe looks…heartbroken.

The honesty and raw intensity of his words are almost enough to render you speechless, but you came here for a reason.

You clear your throat before you speak, biting back your own emotions. “Joseph I’m not breaking up with you. Believe me, I wanted to and I thought about all the reasons why maybe I should. Because I don’t think I’m built for this life,” you look down at your feet, heaving out another breath before looking up at him and holding out your hand for him to hold.

“None of this is easy and sometimes, yeah I doubt myself. And you are very moody for like half the year. But there’s nowhere else I want to be and no one else I’d rather be with. Through the honeymoon phase or 60 years from now when when we’re senile and yelling at each other about the tv remote. Mostly me yelling you staring angrily but—as long as we’re together, I really don’t care. What I’m saying is…I don’t want easy. I want you.”

The tension in his shoulders is released almost immediately. “So you’re saying you’re stuck with me?” He laughs, a sense of relief taking over him. “And you aren’t just saying that because you haven’t had Boca in almost two weeks, right?”

“Your ability to get me their Maple Mascarpone Cheesecake whenever I want is not the main reason why I love you. That’s just one of many.”

You take a second to realize what you just said, opening and closing your mouth a few times but no words are coming out.

Joe’s smiling so big his face is starting to hurt. “You just said you love me.”

Tilting your head to look at him, laughing a little. You can’t believe you let it slip out like that. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Say it again,” he says softly, squeezing your hand and taking a few steps toward you.

You shake your head, one of your hands finding their way into his hair as you pull him in.

The man’s breath hitches as he melts into your touch, the kiss slowly putting him back together, free from all the anxious energy he’d put aside as a defense mechanism. “Joseph, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

The sound of your words radiate against his lips, sending a never ending shiver down his spine.

"I love you too,” he utters with such sweetness you feel like your heart is exploding. “And I missed you.”

He leans in and pours two weeks of apologies and love into the kiss and after all this time of not being close to him, you never want to let him go again. You eventually do separate, only because you need air, and giggle at the fact that you actually still haven’t let each other go. With your fingers intertwined, you lead him upstairs. “Do you need help packing?” Joe steals another quick peck, whispering yes because he’s not letting you out of his sight until it’s time for him to leave tomorrow.

None of this was part of the plan but now that your soul has found its match, you really don’t have a choice but to dive in.

[justmeinatree]

06 - ‘Cause I Want You Bad

Summary : Part 6 to Let Passion Get Too Much … niall x louis x reader threesome

previous part /// jump to pt. 1

TW : smut, edging, subspace, pussy spanking

Word Count : 4.5k

GIFs : unknown, msg for credit

louis knew he shouldn’t be doing this. he shouldn’t have you on his lap, shouldn’t have his hands gripped into your bum, shouldn’t have you slowly grinding on him, shouldn’t have his tongue in your mouth. but when you came down the stairs wearing his grey sweat pants, louis just about lost his mind. 

“where’s niall ?” louis groans, something that makes your eyebrows furrow. not that you didn’t love niall, not that you didn’t always want him around, just, right in this exact moment, you weren’t exactly thinking about him. 

“’s saturday,” you mumbled against louis’ lips, as if that explained everything. but when you feel louis’ face contort into confusion, you explain between kisses, refusing to ever fully remove your mouth from his. “when we’re both home on saturday mornings,” you start, pausing to kiss louis deeply, your grip in his hair tightening, teeth sinking into the plushness of his bottom lip. “we take some time for each other,” kiss, “we like this cafe a few blocks away,” kiss, “he’s gone to pick up scones, muffins, coffee,” kiss, “s’tradition.”

and suddenly louis felt like such an intruder. you two had a saturday morning tradition, and here he was, getting in the way. he pulls away from the kiss, hand pressed on your chest, keeping you far enough to be just out of reach of his lips, eliciting the sweetest little whimper from you. “i can leave, darling.”

“wha- no,” you shake your head, pulling his hand from your chest, back down to your hip, mouth attaching to his neck, “he’s getting breakfast for three,” you explain, taking a moment to suck a small bruise behind his ear, smiling as you dip back into his lips. “s’about all of us now, remember ?” you murmur, not giving him a chance to really answer, too caught up in his mouth.

louis swears he can feel his heart swell at the thought. he was being included into a long standing tradition. if he’d ever felt insecure about his position in this relationship, it was definitely waning. the only problem now, is that louis’ desperate to get inside you, and niall’s on his way with breakfast, dammit. “how long until niall’s back ?” louis finds himself asking, most of it coming out as an incoherent mumble, one that he has to repeat when you give him enough time in between kisses. 

you groan in frustration, eyebrows furrowed, “why are you so preoccupied with niall right now ?” seriously, the question may have come off bitchy, especially if your name was niall, but truthfully, you were having the most incredible moment with louis. him being all you could clearly focus on, and here he is, asking about someone else.

“isn’t this kind of pushing the cheating line ?” louis asks, remembering the night, a while ago now, where the three of you came up with one rule, only including louis if you were all present. and although louis’ quite sure that having a very heated makeout session won’t really bother niall, he can’t be so sure that the same could be said about putting his entire cock inside you. 

you were still momentarily confused, until the rule floated back into your mind, when realization of louis’ apprehension made complete sense. you sit back on louis’ thighs, shoulders slumping, looking at him in pure adoration, “things have changed, significantly since then,” you chuckle softly. honestly, the opportunity just hadn’t presented itself for you and louis to have a moment alone like this, and therefore the rule lay far down in your memory, almost forgotten. especially by now, when you were pretty certain that niall would not mind one bit. he’d probably find it incredibly hot to walk in on louis’ cock buried deep inside you. “niall won’t mind at all,” you add for good measure, leaning forward to dip back in for more kisses, hips grinding down harder on him.

louis groans, whining slightly. fuck, he wanted to, wanted you, so badly. but he couldn’t bring himself to it without expressly hearing from niall that it was okay. he needed to be certain that the rules had changed for everybody. and so louis’ grip on your hips tighten, holding you in place, ceasing your movements, “not until niall gets back,” louis warns softly. 

well fine, you think to yourself, but you didn’t have to make it easy. your hand grips into louis’ hair, tipping his head back, exposing his neck. your mouth works its way over his stubbly skin, tracing feather soft kisses, and teeny nipping bites. you take your time, slowly working over his entire neck, paying close attention to spots that made his breathing hitch. 

louis kept his hands gripped into your hips, not allowing you the satisfaction of grinding down on him. but he was losing his resolve quickly. it was so easy to get lost in you, so easy to give into anything you wanted. and the moment your mouth closed around his earlobe, sucking and biting softly, as you breathe out a groan, one that reverberates right into his ear, shooting down his spine, going straight to his cock, louis was sure he’d lost complete control of himself for a moment. his body reacting on its own, hips bucking up into you, hard.

it pulled a moan from you, again, landing right in his ear, as your forehead rested against his temple. “again,” you whine breathily in his ear, figuring the trick to getting louis doing whatever you pleased. it seemed to go hand in hand with how much he loves and gets off on hearing niall speak.

louis can’t help himself, hips lifting again, groaning as he feels you, still wearing his sweats, surely sticky with your arousal by now. another thought that swirls through his mind, not helping the situation he’s put himself in. louis turns his head, catching your lips with his own, pulling your mouth from his ear, kissing you deep. kissing you hard. he needed a grounding distraction, and it was the best thing he could think of. plus, it kept your mouth busy from bringing him right to the edge.

it was a few minutes later, that you both recognize the thwacking sound of niall’s shoes being thrown off unceremoniously, followed by the trudging of his footsteps. “finally,” louis breathes, pulling away from your mouth, hips rolling hard into yours.

niall rounds the corner into the living room, right as you whimper, eyes locked on louis’. a smirk pulls at niall’s lips, dropping the coffees and treats on the end table, “guess the coffees are going cold this morning,” he laughs. 

“fuck yes,” louis groans, head falling back on the couch, eyes closing, “i’ll get us more later, but for now, please just get over here.”

niall looks at you in slight confusion at the snippiness of louis’ tone. he’s met with your rolling eyes, and the word “rules,” as the only explanation you give. you can see that niall takes a moment, much like you did at first, just to remember what that was, eyes flicking over fondly to louis’ when he realizes. “since when do you follow the rules, anyway ?” niall asks, chuckling, even more confusion etched in his features.

louis groans loudly, laughing, as he shakes his head. he lifts his head from the back of the couch, cheeks turning a slight red as he looks back and forth between you and niall for a moment, gaze filled with adoration. “since i really don’t want to fuck up,” louis admits.

niall flops himself on the couch next to louis, pulling him in for a quick kiss. he almost couldn’t believe the surge of emotions at louis’ confession. “y’not fucking up, mate,” niall murmurs, eyes locked on louis’ as he says it, wanting him to understand the seriousness of what he was saying.

“we want you here, louis,” you murmur, reaching out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it. “in all the ways,” you add, meaning that it wasn’t just sex anymore. 

louis knew. he knew this. you’d both been so sweet, and so patient, always reassuring him. truthfully, he just needed to get out of his own head. needed to let himself live this, be in it fully. “i know,” louis nods, his eyes holding so much truth, so much love. “i’m sorry, i’m getting there yeah ?” he admits with a soft sigh.

“remind ya every fuckin day if i have to,” niall chuckles playfully. although the statement stood, he happily would remind louis every day if he needed. still, lightening the mood was his strong suit, especially in moments like this, when you were both so clearly right into each other, bodies craving. it was no time to be having this talk.

both you and louis know what that meant. you both know niall well enough. the little joke was his way of ending the conversation, of tabling it until later when the time would be more appropriate. “now, it seems i’ve interrupted something,” niall smirks at the two of you, sitting back against the couch, making himself comfortable, taking his coffee and muffin, raising his eyebrow as he looks back at the both of you. “don’t stop on my account,” he smiles, taking a tiny bite of the chocolate chip muffin, and a small slurpy sip of his coffee for emphasis. 

you bite your lip, looking back at louis, gentle smile pulling at your lips. louis looked so soft, so cozy. you couldn’t help but reach out and cup his jaw, pulling his face to yours, kissing him deeply again. you could feel how much more laidback he was now that niall was here. you hadn’t realized before, but now that he’s so much calmer, his entire demeanour looser, it clicks in your mind that he may have been a bit nervous earlier. you just aren’t sure why. 

although it had been over a year since the first time you brought up the idea of a threesome in that hotel room, louis still relied heavily on niall’s cues for just about everything. not that he didn’t think he couldn’t, more that it felt tried and true, and he couldn’t fuck up since niall never fucked up. niall knew you so well, he just always knew. and louis’ still learning, so really, it just felt easier, and much less stressful, to feed off of niall’s cues. 

so now that he was here, watching and savouring his breakfast, slowly growing a stiffy, enjoying this way too much, louis’ grip into you tightened significantly, his entire behaviour shifting. 

niall though, wanting the show to move along, tuts softly, “get naked already,” he laughs around his mouthful of food. but still, it worked, as he watches you slowly raise to your feet, standing between louis’ legs, gripping the base of your tank top and pulling it off over your head. it was still much too early in the day for a bra, your chest instantly exposed to them. louis’ hands cup the sides of your breast, groaning softly, as his thumbs reach out to flick over your nipples, “beautiful girl,” he breathes, before his palms slide down your sides to the hem of his pants that you were wearing. louis slowly pulls them down, watching a strand of arousal connect your centre with his pants, watching it snap as the material falls down your legs.

louis groans, gripping your hips, pulling you up to him. his mouth instantly falls on your pussy, sucking up any arousal that he can. a loud groany moan falls from your lips, head tilting back, louis pulling one of your legs, bending it at the knee, and resting your foot on the couch next to him. the position gives him better access to your cunt, mouth working tirelessly, hands gripping into your bum, holding you in place. 

you gripped into louis’ hair, centring yourself, as your eyes roll back, the messiness of louis’ technique always sending you reeling. he was everywhere you didn’t even know you needed. shifting from his tongue to his lips to his teeth, licking, sucking, nipping, from your clit to your entrance to inside you, pressed on your sweet spot. you’ll have to remember to ask if he has a technique, or if he just goes for it. either way, you were already so heated, breathing laboured, coming out in soft breathy pants.

with all the work that louis had put in before niall even got home, and the extra work right now, your cunt finally getting direct contact with the man you’ve been craving for the last half hour, you could feel yourself approaching your first high. could feel the heat start to spread through your body, could feel your muscles start twitching. 

louis could feel it too. your tummy was spasming, legs trembling, moans more desperate. he brought you right to the edge, right to where the coil was about to snap, and he pulled away, looking up at you with a smirk, “not yet, love.”

his mouth, his chin were soaked, tongue licking over his lips, just waiting for your reaction. it took your brain a quick moment to catch up to the fact that your pleasure had ended so abruptly, a groan grumbling from the depths of your chest, falling forward, forehead resting against louis’, a look of desperation on your features.

all louis does, however, is press his mouth to yours, invading your senses with your own taste, licking into your mouth, depositing more of your arousal onto your tongue. 

niall was watching on, desperate for a taste of you, his breakfast long forgotten, pants pulled down halfway to his knees, shirt discarded somewhere on the floor. he hadn’t given in by touching himself yet, but his hand was gripped into his upper, inner thigh, and he was losing resolve. something about watching the two of you was so hot to niall. he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but he thinks he could do this for the rest of his life. watch you two until he’s so worked up that he needs to join. 

your hips drop to louis’, his cock perfectly nestled between your folds, rolling yourself on him. the tip of his prick was hitting your clit so deliciously, then catching on your entrance with every sway of your hips. you were picking up speed, teased right to the edge just moments ago, now furiously in search of the high you’d been denied.

“makin yourself feel good, pet ?” niall asks, his eyes roaming both your bodies, entranced in the glistening pool of arousal you’ve left behind on louis’ skin, the little red fingerprint indents in your hips and your bum from the strength of louis’ grasp. it was a miracle niall had been able to hold out so long, and still somehow finding the composure to not jump in just yet.

louis’ eyes were trained on your centres, watching you use him to pleasure yourself. with every backwards glide of your hips, he could see just how wet you were making him, feeling your arousal pool below his cock. he could feel your clenches whenever he’d hit a more sensitive spot, could hear your moans getting breathier, your urgency becoming greater. you were close again. that much, louis was good at reading. and just as you were about to scream out, he was pulling your hips clean off of his, leaving you with no friction, and no means to reach your peak.

you do end up screaming out, although not as erotically as you’d planned. it was just about the most frustrating thing you could think of, making your entire body twitch as it came down from nothing. “please,” you find yourself begging, “please louis, please,” you add whinier, whimpering as you grip into him.

niall catches the moment that louis’ eyes flicked to his. louis was checking in, making sure that this wasn’t pushing you too far. he thinks that so far, he’s only witnessed you revelling in multiple orgasms. he’s never been a part of a scene that involved edging with you. by niall’s reaction though, louis knows you’re alright, that this isn’t your first time, that your whines hadn’t reached any thresholds as of yet. 

and so, without hesitation, louis slides his cock inside you, angling his tip right for your sweet spot, something else he’s learned, and gotten quite pro at. it knocks the air straight out of your lungs, gasping for a breath, as louis keeps up a slow, hard pace. 

your head rolled forward, looking down at louis desperately, unshed tears pooling in your eyes, pleading gaze hitting him. for the first time, he held all the cards. he could see that you were on the edge of tipping into floatiness. and no matter how much power your gaze held, louis needed to see where he could push you. as soon as your cunt started to flutter on him, tremors almost overlapping, louis pulls out, “not yet, darling,” he groans, watching the shift in your eyes. 

louis only felt fully comfortable doing so with niall watching so attentively. he knew that if anything, niall had the situation under control. it appeased louis. and little did he know, it appeased you as well. 

your body falls forward again, being left on the peak, just to fall once again. your mouth crashes onto louis’, needing an anchor for a moment, gripping his hair for balance. you were a whimpery, panting mess, your hips flailing, trying to escape louis’ grasp. 

niall couldn’t hold back anymore. his cock was so hard, he was growing more and more needy, and he was desperate to have an opportunity at bringing you to the edge as well. so he comes to a stand behind you, fingers reaching out for your hole. 

the added touch made you jump slightly, not having realized that niall had gotten up and was now right there. he’s quick to reassuringly shush you, murmuring, “y’still stretched from last night ?” his fingertips dance around your ring of muscles, index slowly breaching. you were so mellow, muscles still relaxed from last night, niall would have no trouble joining the scene. it makes him reach over to the drawer in the end table by the couch, pulling out a small bottle of lube. 

louis looks on with a playful smirk and raised eyebrow, “dirty, the two of you,” he laughs, incredulously shaking his head. although, really, he shouldn’t be surprised at this point. obviously you two would have lube within easy reach, always at the ready. 

niall slowly eased his way inside you, your muscles giving way easily, eyes fluttering shut, mouth parting as you moan out. your face was buried in louis’ chest, back arched, hips straight up. louis gently coaxed your head up a tiny bit, enough for him to kiss you deeply. you were so tingly, so buzzy, egged on by the moans niall was echoing out from behind you. 

you were so close to the edge, brought closer and closer each time, almost permanently trembling. “please,” you whimper, needing to cum, needing it so badly. you were so hot, so desperate for a release. but niall didn’t allow it, pulled out a moment later, making you bite into louis’ lip, hard. your body trying to curl in on itself, unable to in the position you were in. “need to beg a lot more if you’re that desperate,” niall tuts with a smirk.

niall takes it upon himself to not allow you the break they’d been allowing you up until now, reaching below you to grip at louis’ prick, pulling a gasp from him, placing his cock right at your entrance, pressing you down to sit on him. both you and louis moan out loudly, bucking up into you, making you rise entirely, lifted by his hips, cock empaled into you. 

they were taking their turns, bringing you right to the edge, pulling out and letting the other have a turn. it was constant, keeping you right there, unable to attain your peak. your body was limply being shuffled from straight up against niall’s chest, to folded over louis’ body. you were gasping for air, pleading with loud whines. the back and forth and back and forth feeling of switching holes and switching cocks, you could barely keep up, not with the way you were floating now, so far gone. you felt so properly used, like a doll for them to fuck. and you loved it. the best release.

you’d lost count of how many times they alternated being inside you. all you knew was that you were about to lose any resolve. you were teetering on the peak, and niall had started recognizing that their time inside you was getting shorter and shorter. but really, niall wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted. he and louis, however-

niall decides to keep your hips floating, above louis and a bit too far from himself. he reaches down below you, gripping louis’ cock and tugging quickly. it pokes a hard breath from his lungs, head falling back and baring his throat, “fuck, niall, fuck,” louis whines out, the sudden contrast from the slowness of his thrusts inside you, to the quickness of niall’s hand threw him in a bit of a frenzy. 

as floaty as you were, you recognized that niall was working louis now, was bringing him to his own edge, while still denying you yours. it made you whine more desperately, crying out pleads, tears streaming down your cheeks as you realize that they’ll be letting themselves cum. without you. something they both manage quickly with all of their own edging in the process.

louis moans out, cum painting both your pussy and his own stomach, back arching as he does. niall uses the cum on his hand to stroke himself, cumming moments later, also painting your sopping cunt. it was so dirty, the image that niall was privy to. your heat leaking a mixture of arousal and multiple loads of cum, right down onto louis’ cock. without much thought, niall leaves an open palm smack right over your centre.

you cry out loudly, muscles spasming, gush of liquid erupting from your cunt. the spanking wouldn’t make you cum, niall knew that. but it sure could make your squirt. “colour,” niall’s quick to ask, quicker than louis even thought of it, another testament as to why he likes to have niall around for these moments. and as soon as a quiet “green” spilled from your lips, louis had shuffled down, head between your legs, taking a turn in landing his own smack to your cunt. 

with another loud cry, you gushed some more liquid, louis’ mouth awaiting to catch as much as he could, happily humming as he swallowed. “want a taste, tommo,” niall grunted, landing another spank himself, louis ready to collect. he slithered from his spot between your legs, gripping into niall’s hair to tip his head back. louis pinched niall’s chin, making his mouth open, depositing your squirt into his mouth. niall moaned out, swallowing, mouth suctioning to louis’ in an intense kiss. their first one of the day. and they were indulging. full of tongue and teeth clattering, groaning right next to your ear, you whimpered, trying to get their attention, desperate for them. 

once louis pulled away breathlessly, noting how blissed out you looked, leaned back against niall, head tipped over his shoulder, gasping for small breaths, body trembling, tear stains on your cheeks. you looked beautiful. louis kisses his way back down your body, figuring he could give into you just a tiny bit, before smacking your abused cunt once again, needing to taste more. 

you were so far gone, you couldn’t think, your brain too prickly. the pleasure that had taken over your body was so intense, skin heated like it was being burned, electric zaps coursing through your veins. you’d long lost count of how many spanks your poor pussy had taken, revelling in the gushing pleasure it allowed you each time.

“make her cum,” niall speaks out to louis, starting to note just how far you’d fallen. no longer able to answer the question he’d been asking for a good minute. a question that you hadn’t even heard due to the ringing in your ears. nor had you registered the fact that he told louis to make you cum.

so a surprised squeak left your lips as his mouth closed around your puffy clit, suctioning it into his mouth, flicking his tongue quickly. “cum, petal,” niall murmurs against your ear, knowing that the words would reach your subconscious, trembling so hard as your high finally peaked. it was so strong, body wracking, you fell through niall’s arms, louis’ hands quickly reaching up to catch you. he slithered from under you again, letting you rest against his chest as you gasped and panted for breath, far out of consciousness.

you weren’t sure how long you’d been using louis to recover, but his hand was gently stroking your hair, niall sitting next to him, playing with your fingers, stroking your palm. 

it was the soft shuffle of your head, burying yourself more into louis, that makes him realize you’d come to. his other hand reaches around you to squeeze you lightly, niall smiling at you, “welcome back, petal.”

you hum, nodding, smiling at them, still too exhausted and weak to lift your head. “be here all day if y’need, darling,” louis murmurs quietly, ready to give you the comfort needed after the intensity of the scene. your heart melting at his willingness, humming breathily, leaving a soft kiss against his skin. 

niall can really see how good louis is with you, but also realizes that he’s leaning a little too much on his experience. he remembers the early days with you, when he could learn you and test with you. it’s those moments that brought you two as close as you are now. the opportunity to make safe mistakes and learn from them, getting to know each other intimately by trying and by getting messy. and he trusts louis, knows that you do too. it was just time for louis to trust himself, niall thinks. “we’re gonna need another talk, rethink those rules,” niall hums, watching you nod, and a fond smirk pull at louis’ lips. things had changed, it was time that the rules and the dynamic did as well.

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

tags : @acesofspadess @mar1posita @gorlsinmultifandoms @emmaarenstarr @slutforcoffein

@blondedmgc @daphnesutton @hslt-2809 @louischasesniall @take-a-cchonce

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

It started back when he was 16.

His parents found out about him and Vlad thanks to the fruitloop being an idiot and practically outing them both. Danny was so lucky that he had planned for a situation like this. He had go-bags ready with a few changes of clothes, a thermos, some weapons, a star projector, lots of money from Sam and enough medical supplies to make a hospital jealous.

It was a good thing too, after crippling the GIW and destroying all the gear they and the Fentons had they destroyed their research and everything ghost related. Vlad at this point was already dead so he wasn't much of a concern.

Dannys had landed in an alley in a new dimension, only problem now was the parting shot his mother gave him on his back. Due to the placement of it Danny couldn't reach to treat it properly and he didn't know anyone in this dimension who could help him.

Thats when his ghost sense went off. He groaned, hoping he wouldn't have to fight a new ghost in this state when a man in a red helmet (Mask?) walked up to him and motioned for peace.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The man said gently, "I just wanna look at that injury, maybe help."

Danny stared at him. He didn't feel anything off about the guy and Danny prided himself on being a good judge of character. "Okay." He scooted himself around so his back was exposed to the stranger.

"Wow, you're really not from around here." Danny stiffened, had he been tricked? The man made no moves to hurt him, just got to work tending to his wound. The man was swift, and aside from the slight sting of an ointment he didn't recognize there was no pain at all.

Once Danny was all patched up the guy made to leave, "Wait!" Danny called out and the man halted, "Who are you?" The man turned his head to look back at him, still facing away from him, "Red Hood."

As it turned out, Red Hood was the new up and coming crime lord who everyone was talking about. He came seemingly out of nowhere and was making a lot of waves in Gothams underbelly. Gotham...so this was Dannys new haunt.

Danny wanted to protect it but...he wanted to protect Red Hood even more. So when he heard about Red Hood forming a gang he made a decision. He gathered up materials to make his own supervillian outfit- basically an all black outfit with a long hooded coat and combat boots- and to add the finishing touch he put on a all white gas mask that he had made himself, complete with a voice modulator, night vision, heat vision, etc. If Hood ever wanted him to prove it was him he could make his mask glow using his ghost powers. Not that it was needed. Hood seemed to be able to sense him in a similar way that Danny could but in a much much smaller range.

With that being said, hoods men didn't trust him at first, which was fair considering he just started randomly appearing at their operations and helping them out...by force usually. They weren't sure what to make of him but Danny didn't want to go through the usual goon enlistment process as Hood would want to know his name and face and everything else and Phantom was...well a phantom.

Danny liked to hide, even in plain sight. He couldn't deny the little game of cat and mouse they had was fun. Hood would try to follow him home or track him or get him to take off the mask and Phantom would dodge his attempts every time.

It took a while, but Red Hood did eventually come to trust him, going so far as to make Danny his right hand man after 3 years of working together, though that may also be because he had rarely failed any of the tasks Hood had given him.

Maybe thats why he never told any of the bats about him. He had picked up that there was something between Hood and the bats but he never could figure out what it was without prying into his bosses personal life. Still, it was rather shocking when Red Hood showed up one day with a large red bat symbol splayed across his chest.

It also made him look at how freaking chiseled his boss was. He couldn't count how many times he had to drag his eyes away from his abs and chastise himself for thinking that way.

Danny was in love with a man whos face he would never see. But that was fine. He was happier standing by this man's side and yearning than he ever was back in Amity and it wasn't like Hood knew his face or name either.

-----------

He felt like a halfa though an incomplete one. He had a core but it felt hollow, like the soul was forcibly removed somehow and only emotions remained. Hood gained a bad reputation for flying into a monstrous rage but was always calm when Danny was near, a fact that even Red Hood himself seemed to pick up on.

Hood began to fall for his second in command pretty quickly, always trying to feed him and take care of him (as is his love language) while Danny was openly obsessed with assuring Hoods safety and well being even going so far as to use his powers (that no one knows about) to overshadow a computer and hack into the bats systems to make sure Hood was okay after a prolonged period of him being MIA.

The bats are freaked but Danny being Danny gets lucky and they always seem to miss his trail by a hair. Lucky ghost.

Things start going sideways when Fenton tech starts showing up in this new dimension only for Danny to find out his parents have remade the portal and are looking for him. The bats are being hunted by his parents and and the now rogue government agency the GIW. Danny tries to explain things to Hood without compromising his own secrets but once the newest Robin gets captured and Hood freaks Danny puts everything on the line to go rescue the stabby bird.

[anemoiashifts]

december shifting pick an object reading !

hello ! happy almost christmas to those who celebrate i thought id continue with a general shifting reading & maybe some messages from people in your desired reality. i thought last months reading was a little to general for my liking, so i will be trying to add as much detail / specifics as i can to solidify the feeling that this is made for you.

as always please please don’t force messages to resonate. i do these on the first of every months so they’ll be many more chances to feel connected to a reading if these ones don’t do it for you :) !

bunny ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🐇 !

signs : pineapples, snoopy, stained clothing, missing buttons, mars, tree stumps.

you are currently going through some sort of “seasonal depression; some sort of funk. as of recent, you’ve been comparing yourself to your peers. seeing how much they can do & are capable of, it makes your (feelings of) lack amplify & hurt even more. maybe you have some sort of codependent relationship or always feel the need to confide in others approval before a task is complete ? this month you’ll find the motivation to learn new skills & plant the seeds that are needed to trust yourself.

this boils over into your outlook on shifting. people seem to fall into boxes of where they want to shift, have methods that have worked for them, have made a decision in what they’d like to experience in their desired reality. it’s not that you lack a direction, you may know where you’d like to shift. more so an indecisiveness on what you actually want. you want to shift yes, but when you really think on it, you’ve become comfortable where you are. you could struggle to see yourself shifting at all as you are a more analytical person. your someone who is very fact based, you could enjoy doing research & weighing all options before making a decision. things need to make perfect sense to you before you believe in them. this mindset only feeds into what ive mentioned above & could circle back to your feelings of being directionless. the main thing you need is clarity for your manifestations & desires.

this person is someone who is very likely defensive of & true to their beliefs; someone stubborn. birds or turtles may be relevant to them. what this person wants to remind you is consistency is key. you may jump from one project to another without finishing the last; which leaves you as someone who knows a lot of different skills / has aloe of hobbies. you don’t have to be perfect to start something & continue with it. very few people do things the first time & it comes out just how you imaged it. focus on the quality of information rather then the quantity. take this month to create a vision board of some sort. write down what you’d like to accomplish by the end of the upcoming year.

otter ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🦦 !

signs : greek lettering, pink slippers, butterfly earrings, long black wrap coats.

in your head, you have “unfinished business” to attend to. so, shifting has been kept on hold for a very long time — years for some of you. it’s always “ill try and shift after i finish my work” or “ill shift when i improve my sleep schedule”. while it’s good to have goals, you’re allowed to work on multiple things at once as long as you balance the two. take this time to reevaluate your priorities & consider what is helping or hurting you. are you really putting off shifting because your room isn’t clean and you have done laundry yet and you have a research paper ? or are you simply not in the mood for it as your mind has wandered else where. do you desire to go to a reality that you have built up in your head or have you grown out of it & would rather fall in love with another desired reality ?

there could also be some sort of desire not to shift at the moment. perhaps you like the holidays & you’re excited for them ? you’re in a stable place right now & shifting is something you fall back onto in times of distress ? however you look at shifting & where you want the future of your relationship to be with the practice later down the line, take time to nurture that vision for yourself.

this person could be someone from your family in your desired reality or a person you would consider family, even if not by blood. this person is a little bit of a player & like you, has moments of lack of direction. while this person can be hotheaded, it’s a good reminder to slow down before lashing out on others. your insecurity doesn’t grant you the right to think negatively of other people. through these moments, this person notices that you struggle to see clearly & your tendency to obsess over small things. focus on the bigger picture.

deer ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🦌 !

signs : 88 or 888, farmers markets, lillie’s, historical landmarks, purple lip gloss.

you’re not the kinda person people look at & think that you haven’t been through a lot. on the outside, you look fine. you’ve been very lucky in a lot of ways & you’re able to hold everything together really well.

often a front for something being repressed, you often have an “i don’t care” attitude or come off as really easy to be around & agreeable. you’re someone who doesn’t quite know yourself entirely. while, you recognize you’re a kind person & a good friend, you struggle with a fear of judgement & being ostracized from certain groups if they “knew the truth”. you could’ve or used to have some unconventional hobbies or are into certain subcultures that aren’t the norm.

your desired reality could be a wanted but a shamed one by nobody other then yourself. you have a love of the place of where you’d like to shift but the shame of admitting to yourself that you do consider yourself a shifter, can be a hard to accept. you’re probable someone who lives in constant fear of being “outed” as a one. you’ve gone through the ritual of blocking everyone you know in your personal life & making a mental note of not keeping physical scripts laying around. maybe shifting as a while feels a little elementary to you. even if it isn’t the practice, it could be the places you’d like to shift itself that allow these thoughts to conjure up inside your head. if you are able to work on quieting that noise of shame & insecurity, you will soon have your desired fulfilled. — as I was typing & the time 11:11 appeared on my desktop if that number means anything to you.

the main thing somebody from your desired reality wants you to know is to listen to your dreams. your dreams are apart of your subconscious & your subconscious holds the key to how you operate. if your circadian rhythm is off, take this as a sign to start to get it back on track. i really couldn’t get a read on who this person was, so i assume whoever your thinking of is this person or they prefer to remain anonymous.

thank you for reading. i hope something was able to resonate with you ! ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

[fourmoony]

hey, you could do something with reader telling james (or poly!marauders) that you're pregnant. reader was tense and hesitant about what his reaction would be, as she thought he wouldn't like the idea

thanks for requesting!

f!reader 1k cw: pregnancy

James has his head almost inside the pot of soup on the stove, poking and prodding at it with a wooden spoon as though it may bite him, when you cross through the arched entryway of the kitchen. He turns his head over his shoulder when he hears your socked feet padding across the tiled flooring, glasses fogged up and his smile bright.

"I don't think I did it right." He tells you, forbearing a greeting all together.

His brows hook in the middle when he turns back to the pot, lips pouted just a little. You peek over his shoulder to find a simmering pot of vegetable water and find yourself biting back a smile. Sweet James, your loving and doting boyfriend, always up for a challenge. You don't have the heart to tell him there's entirely too much water and not nearly enough stock in the pot, so you rub his shoulder encouragingly, place a kiss to it, after. "Looks lovely, handsome."

It pulls a warm smile out of your boyfriend, who seems more encouraged by your words than you think he should be. He's so trusting, so loving, leads with his heart and his soul, and nothing else. He puts too much faith in you.

"Remus' never looks like this, but I s'pose thats because he does it in the slow cooker." James placates himself with a shrug, eyes back on the steaming pot.

You hum a mild agreement, pulling yourself up onto the worktop so you're facing James. He likes the company whenever he's cooking. You like the domesticity, the routine, spending time with him whilst completing a task, talking about your day, your friends. It's nice, to be so comfortable with the person you love.

"Did you write down the instructions as he was giving you them? Or are you going from memory?" You ask James apprehensively.

He doesn't reply at first, too occupied with throwing a load of raw potatoes into the pot. They drop to the bottom of the pot with a sickening thud, water splashing over the sides. James winces as a droplet catches the side of his arm and turns to you with a weary look, "From memory. He was going too fast and the landline was crackly."

There's no saving the soup now, so you allow James to continue his ministrations. You'll pretend it's even better than Remus'. Anything for James. Anything to see him smile.

"He said he hopes you're feeling better soon, by the way. Sirius, too." James adds, face dangerously close to the open flame of the gas cooker as he adjusts the heat.

You blanch. You'd mentioned feeling poorly to James yesterday morning, a little tired, a little sick, stiff, the normal beginnings of a cold. The soup makes sense, now. "You asked Remus for his soup recipe because I mentioned feeling a little poorly once?"

James nods, shrugs like it's no big deal.

You've never felt this kind of love before, the kind of care and consideration James has.

"Jamie, I'm not poorly." Your voice is a little unsteady.

You'd wanted to wait, tell him when you'd figured out how you felt about it yourself. Wanted to be sure whether this was something you wanted, something James would want. You know he's a good man, a good person with a massive heart, but you've not been together for as long as you'd have liked, you're not married, there's a list of things that could make James run for the hills and you wouldn't blame him.

But you know him. You know James Potter. He's never ran from anything.

"Well it's too late for that, I've already made the ruddy soup, now." James teases, poking the pudge of your thigh with the tip of the wooden spoon.

"James," You try to garner his full attention, away from the burning vegetable water, "I wasn't poorly."

He frowns, probably trying to pin together the phrase with the way you're acting and comes up with nothing, so he says nothing.

"I'm pregnant."

James doesn't say anything for a minute. You can't read him. Eyes wide, jaw slack, eyebrows lost in the messy tuft of his fringe. Just when you think the silence might choke you, the fire alarm sounds, loud and abrasive. It kick starts your boyfriend's brain and he grabs the nearest tea towel, motioning for you to stay put, and wafts the smoke away from the detector.

After, in the silence that follows, he leans over the kitchen sink and opens the window, turns off the stove.

"When did you find out?" He asks, voice unwaveringly calm.

Your heart slams against your rib cage, scared and begging you to run, "This morning."

James nods, "How do you feel?"

"Nauseous. Confused. Scared."

James softens, crosses the distance between you. His hands are soft on your face when he slots between your legs, eyes swimming with emotion. He smells faintly like OXO stock cubes and his normal cologne as he rests his forehead against yours and heaves a deep breath. "You wanna do this?"

"Only if you do." You answer truthfully.

"I love you, you know that?" His voice comes out hoarse, and you realise he's holding back tears.

Tears spring to your eyes, too, when you nod, "I know."

"There's no one else I'd rather do it with."

Relief washes over you like a bucket of cold water, bringing the air back to your lungs, life back to your heart. You're laughing into the kiss that James presses to your lips, giddy and excited. He presses two gentle pecks there, after, and one to your forehead.

"Holy shit I'm gonna be a Dad." He sounds awed, in disbelief.

You laugh, "Yeah. You are."

"And you're gonna be a Mum."

"That's generally how it works, babe." You say placatingly, thumbs swiping over his rounded cheeks, holding his face in place. His smile is like the sun, bright and blinding. You feel warm all over just looking at it.

"I need to phone Sirius." James announces, turning on his heel to make for the landline.

You shouldn't be surprised, not when Sirius is an extension of your boyfriend's being. So, you simply wait until you can hear James ramming his fingers against the telephone, and dump a couple more stock cubes into the soup.

He can thank you later.

[seyaryminamoto]

My latest completed commission may have been a bit ambitious... because I went wild with it. But I certainly relished in doing so :') Combining my favorite ship with my favorite-ever Disney movie is, uh... a dangerous concoction :'D

The commissioner specifically requested for Azula as Mulan, Sokka as Shang, and Xin Long (my OC dragon from Gladiator) as Mushu. The rest of the cast was up to me to choose, and I pretty much went wild rewatching this movie and picking out some of my favorite moments to recreate them in my style, with these characters. I came up with a lot of correlating characters between both ATLA and 1998's Mulan, but I couldn't hope to draw EVERYTHING, unfortunately. Still, if you want my reasoning for the cast correlation... check out the Read More! Beyond that, feel free to reach out to me if you'd like to commission me, or if you want to join my Patreon!

The Herbalist as Mulan's grandmother might feel arbitrary but she honestly felt like the ATLA elderly lady with the most similar personality to Grandma Fa. Fickle, with a unique connection with a seemingly perfectly ordinary animal, old and sassy? Figured it fit! So for once, the Herbalist is Azula's grandma! xD strange notion, I know, Azulon/Herbalist is not a ship I ever thought I'd accidentally put out in the world but there have been wilder ships than that in this fandom...

Momo became Cri-Kee, I wasn't 100% sold on it but when I considered that Avatar features soooo many hybrid animals... I figured he could be a hybrid cricket-lemur. Weird, I know, but eh? Better than nothing xD

Aang as Chien-Po was a no-brainer. He's the only character I settled on instantly, never even considered anyone else for the role. Their personalities line up really well, and Chien-Po's tendency to be OP and resolve things that are outside of other people's reach sounded like he was prime Avatar material! So, while their dietary preferences are an obvious difference between them, I decided to go for it nonetheless considering all their other similarities!

Kino (another Gladiator OC) is Ling, and he actually did give me a ton of trouble to choose. I considered many characters for the role right up until I realized that Kino's personality actually lines up fairly well with Ling's, down to being a class clown type (who ABSOLUTELY would have cut gym class!) and breaking out in song about the hypothetical woman he'd like to fight for? Yeeeeah that's right up his alley xD but there's another reason why I picked Kino...

... And that is my likely unexpected choice for Yao:

ZUKO.

ZUKO IS YAO.

YES.

I'M NOT EVEN SORRY.

(For the uninitiated, Aang, Zuko and Kino are best friends in Gladiator, very often together, and they make a really good team, so that's the extra reason why Kino became the obvious choice for Ling aside from having really similar personalities, definitely closer personalities than, say, Jet, for instance.)

People have likened Zuko to Shang a LOT since ATLA aired. This is the main reason why I'm even making this huge note! I suspect it's primarily because of the aesthetic, let's be real here, and because he becomes Aang's teacher, but people have exaggerated Zuko's alleged similarities with Shang, or taken them out of proportion, in many ways. I actually remember an AMV ages ago with "Be a Man" and it was Zuko "training the Gaang"?? It... didn't feel right to me. Obviously, someone might rebuff with "well, how does Sokka make MORE sense than that, though?" And believe it or not, I have arguments for that... (when do I not...?)

Not only is this what the commissioner specifically requested (and it obviously lines up with the ship we love!), but let's examine the actual reasons why Sokka as Shang adds up:

Sokka actually had to train a bunch of toddlers who weren't paying any attention to him. You know. Kind of how Shang had to train the unruly soldiers who weren't getting anything right. Sokka has a positive relationship with his dad (Zuko, ofc, does not). Shang also has a positive relationship with his dad! And not only this, but there's a military component to both relationships, specifically with Shang wanting to follow on his father's footsteps and aid him in the war... so much like someone else I know, who jumped at every opportunity to rejoin his father in the war, even wishing to join him as a child until Hakoda tasked him with protecting their Tribe instead (kinda like Shang is tasked with training soldiers rather than joining a battlefield).

And the final cherry-on-top that I'd loooove to hear Zuko fans try to argue against... is sexism :') didn't Sokka get characterized as a sexist guy for four episodes, which made people decide that this was his main character trait even if it went away that quickly? Um, yes, that happened. Shang literally sings the memorable song that's a crazy ode to masculinity, including the rather sexist line of "did they send me daughters when I asked for sons". Shang outright abandons Mulan once they discover that she was a woman all along (while, admittedly, choosing to abandon her rather than KILL HER, which as we saw from Chi-Fu, he was NOT supposed to spare her!)...

So, is this REALLY what Zuko fans, who willfully believe their boy is a feminist king (... why? beats me...) are trying to compare their unproblematic blorbo to? :'D Me? I have no problem linking Sokka with Shang due to Sokka's beginnings and due to the fact that both Shang and Sokka have similar growth when it comes to accepting femininity is as valid as masculinity, and as they both learn to respect women as fighters and potential heroes! (I simply do not believe Sokka's ENTIRE tenure in ATLA was about that, though, and that's what I continue to clash with the fandom over...) So... all this is why I've reasoned that Sokka is a VERY solid choice for Shang, in fact, better than Zuko could hope to be.

... but this isn't all.

Maybe some might accept my arguments for Sokka-Shang. And then, they might ask:

WHY ZUKO AS YAO, THO??

... And the truth is it took me long to see it, myself, but HOLY SHIT, DOES IT FIT!

What is the primary thing we remember about Yao in Mulan? This guy is constantly itching for a fight, to prove himself, surely riddled with insecurities that he exteriorizes through overcompensation of masculinity. He's funny as fuck, but he's taking himself 100% seriously as a manly man all the time, and he's always ready for violence. But there's one more thing...

He treats Mulan as his RIVAL.

And more often than not? SHE SCREWS HIM OVER. Intentionally or not.

What does that sound like? Why, yes, it sounds a LOT like Azula and Zuko's sibling relationship!

The fact that Yao is a temperamental dude who lashes out easily at things (oh, something he has in common with Zuko!), that he specifically resents Mulan (in this case, Azula, just as Zuko does!) and is either constantly looking to defeat her and prove his superiority over her (... wait, just as Zuko with Azula??), that he has a black eye perpetually across the movie, and it's his LEFT EYE (just as Zuko's scar is on his left eye! :'D), that he's friends with a pacifist he has basically nothing in common with, personality-wise (just like Zuko and Aang!), and that he pretty much has a REDEMPTION ARC in which he goes from a bitter, asshole rival to Mulan to treating her as a friend and ally, to the point where he was disappointed to leave her behind and THEN joined her at once when she says she has a plan? :') I have always been critical of Zuko's redemption arc, goes without saying. But if ANY of these characters redeemed himself in any significant way, it certainly seems to be Yao to me, and with people gushing NON-STOP about Zuko's redemption? Why, he ought to be the character who goes from bitter rival to loyal friend, right?

So. I'm not even sorry. Zuko is Yao. And I'd dare say that he should be flattered by the comparison, even, because Yao ends up being cool as FUCK!

I don't really talk about this much nowadays, but Mulan was my favorite Disney movie growing up, it ABSOLUTELY had a formative influence on me as a little girl, and Mulan was my favorite female character for a looooong time. Thus, any excuse to rewatch this movie makes me happy as heck. With the wisdom of age I know, of course, that it's not perfect, it's not what China wants, it's not the most thoughtful depiction of Chinese culture or the most faithful adaptation of Mulan's poem (... but I'd also dare bring up that the 2009 Chinese adaptation ISN'T all that faithful either...), but it has a kind of magic in it, a solid storytelling flow, so many memorable moments one after the next, that I could hardly choose which scenes to depict... Disney has never again seen the storytelling heights it reached with Mulan in 1998. I don't even care if that's a controversial opinion in any way... this is their best animated feature for me, and nobody can change my mind.

So... depicting Azula, my beloved, in all these scenarios as this character I adored and idolized as a child, was so damn fulfilling for me. While some might think that, personality-wise, these two ladies don't have much in common, the fact that Mulan is sent to a matchmaker who basically tells her she looks good but is going to be the worst wife ever...? Our girl Azula, with all those insecurities about being unloveable and a monster, probably would relate big time to that.

Mulan is also an INTELLIGENT soldier rather than a brawny one, which is how she starts to make progress in the army, it's how she manages to overcome the huns with that avalanche... and Azula's primary difference with most other antagonists in ATLA is that she's smart as fuck. She is very strong, no doubt, but a LOT of that strength comes from her intelligence, from assessing situations in unique ways, from planning and strategizing. The way Mulan finds the most unexpected solutions that still pay off reminds me a lot of how Azula achieves unexpected feats through rather unorthodox means, capable of taking over a city with basically no bloodshed while her nation has spent 100 years trying and failing to do so through major army incursions and who knows how much senseless violence. Obviously, I'm not saying what Azula did is GOOD and it's kind of dumb that we always have to point that out... I'm merely comparing the magnitude of the feats, and the fact that they both come from ladies who use strategy and intelligence to achieve their goals rather than muscle and physical power.

And while anyone would rage at me for the comparison between Fa Zhou (her dad) and Ozai, the truth is the dynamic between them CAN be compared, if loosely: Mulan literally goes to war to keep her father safe. Azula goes to war under her father's orders. Hell, she makes herself BAIT in the Eclipse to make sure the Gaang won't get to her dad?? While it's very much possible to say that both characters have different personalities and attitudes in life... I'd also bring up that their contexts are evidently completely different. I wouldn't say for certain that Azula, had she been raised outside a Royal Family, would be EXACTLY like Mulan... but they might have more similar traits than one might expect. Ultimately, though... I love them both. And this opportunity to swap their places was pretty much a dream come true!

Alright, that was plenty of rambling xD ultimately, I had a blast doing this commission, as I'm sure is obvious by now. So! If anyone wants to commission me, feel free to check out my prices right here and hit me up if you're interested!

[heartsofminds]

i'm calling just to hear you scream - part ii.

“Free means “fuck.” She’s gonna fuck us, Sugar and you don’t even fucking care!” or it's your first day at The Bear (or is it The Beef still?), Richie is convinced you're a fed, and Carmen may or may not hate your guts.

A/N: well surprise, surprise! here's part two of i'm calling just to hear you scream. definitely more of a filler chapter before everything starts to implode and get more serious and downright grimey, but i hope you enjoy!

The shadows created by the awnings of the sandwiched businesses chill your bones while the Sun makes your backside sticky beneath your sweater and light spring jacket. Chicago is beautiful in March, but always full of surprises.

One day comes an icy snowstorm that adds to the gray slush collecting on the side of the street and the next a blissful sixty-one degrees that gaslights everyone into walking around with shorts on because it’s just “so warm.” 

You can’t revel in the tranquility for much longer. Not when you’re pretty sure you’re coming up on the address Natalie emailed you two nights ago. 628 West Wager Street sits prettily in between an old antique shop and a Chicago Cubs merchandise store that has definitely seen better days. Despite no sign hanging on the window and the glass completely shielded from outside eyes by brown butcher paper, it somehow looks like it belongs; the younger sibling of a once booming and vibrant street scene. 

Being outside of the door is a feeling that fills you with both anxiety and uncertainty. You know you’re in the right spot but you don’t feel like you are; not when you can’t hear any noise coming from any of the three storefronts that stand in front of you. You’re made even more uneasy when you see the five by eleven sheet of insulated foil wrap with capital letters written in Sharpie taped to the front window. 

The Beef is closed. Thank you for your patronage. The Bear is coming. 

The nerves start to hit you even harder. All Natalie had mentioned over the phone and through your frequent emails have been about needing help with a restaurant. The name of the aforementioned restaurant had never been disclosed and its location remained a mystery until this morning when you got an email with the unspoken directions that Apple Maps would omit. There’s nothing more embarrassing than doing a consult and not knowing any of the details. It’s even more humiliating when the feeling of being made a fool seems inevitable. 

Your arm refuses to move forward and yank the door open in case this is some sick prank. You half expect Becca to be hiding behind it with the “good ole boys” crew that is full of Senior and Junior partners at your law firm; their only purpose is to further humiliate and belittle you more than they already do on a day-to-day basis at the office. 

It’s a ridiculous thing to think that someone would care enough about you and your shame to do that, you know, but it’s the only way you can rationalize your brain warning you not to touch that door. Your eyes catch your reflection and suddenly you want the concrete sidewalk to swallow you whole. You take in how your navy blue pantsuit engulfs you and how your work bag seems to get heavier and heavier as it hangs solemnly at your side. 

You don’t belong here. 

The itch to turn around and run back to the train as fast as you could possibly manage crosses your mind, but the shattering of the quiet oasis around you interrupts that thought before it can materialize. 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up!” you hear a voice scream.

“Do you ever realize you don’t know fuckin’ everything!” another one screams back. 

The sound of a wall being hit accompanies the shouts as well as numerous other voices joining in on the cacophony the verbal altercation created. 

Call it a hunch (or just having enough common sense), but you definitely are in the right place and there are certainly people inside. The scary part of not knowing is over. The absolutely horrifying part of having to see where you fit in is pending. 

Your fingers grip the solid metal door handle and you rip it open. The resounding squeal it emits makes you want the floor to swallow you up whole. The chaos of screaming shouting and yelling start to pause before the sound of the sledgehammer hitting the wall a second time interrupts it and sends it into a full frenzy once again. 

The world seems to be moving in slow motion and your words are caught in your throat. You’ve never seen chaos like this before, but you’ve definitely felt the way you’re currently feeling every day for the past five years. Faces you don’t know, a nagging feeling of responsibility, a dire need to do the best job you possibly can and not fucking up and not pissing anyone off, and yet no idea where to even start. 

“If I already fuckin’ told you you were tearing the wrong wall down why the actual fuck would you do it again!” a strained scream bounces off the walls. 

You jolt at the echo. The current lack of infrastructure and an igloo of scaffolding tarp amplifies the sound by three thousand decibels. 

He can’t see your face because his back is turned toward you, but the temperament and the mop of curls tell you the obvious. Carmen. Natalie’s brother and shareholder that she had subtly warned you about in a half-joking, half-not tone when you had spoken on the phone the other day. 

“To prove a fucking point,” a lankier taller man scoffs back. Richie. Their cousin, not cousin (which you don’t really understand, but you chalk it up to a deduction that not everything is meant to make sense), and the absolute bane of Natalie and Carmen’s existence at times. She had also warned you about him on the phone. “Even if I’m wrong you never fail to always think you’re fucking right like a – like a fucking baby! You walk around here pissed the fuck off and fucking changing everything and makin’ it everyone else’s fucking problem –” 

Carmen lunges at him and two other men from the crowd almost pick him up from the floor to prevent him from tackling Richie. 

“Everyone else’s prob – You’re my fucking problem! You’re my fuckin’ problem and all you know how to do is fuck up and make everything fuckin’ worse!” 

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuckin’ pissy ass pamper cry baby.” 

Carmen tries his hardest to wrangle himself out of the hold he’s currently in. Sydney, a genius and the Lord’s prayer (according to Natalie, also), clumps herself near him as he remains twisting and turning like a toddler fighting a parent’s protective hold through a temper tantrum. 

“Chill, chill, chill. Stop. Just stop,” she gently coos. Her hand claps the shoulder of one of the men holding him up. You can see the gentle squeeze it gives to provide silent comfort, but you wonder if the softness in her tone is to deescalate the situation or to help regulate herself. 

He’s dragged out to what you can assume is the backdoor and it slams with a cadence that demands attention. A sharp thud can be heard five seconds later accompanied by various, “Yo, what the fuck, dude?”’s. 

He must have kicked the door. He definitely kicked the door. 

Your body continues to stay frozen in the bare entryway. The survival skills you’ve adapted kick into full effect. Don’t make a move. Don’t make a sound. Do not piss anyone else off. 

The aftermath of commotion and chatter fills the room and leaves no space for you. You have half the mind to put your hand back on the handle and dip out before anyone notices. You’ve been here all of three minutes and you feel as if it’s been a year. The shouting and the hurtful insults and the frequent use of the word “fuck” send a blush down your chest. You’re embarrassed because you’re starting to think that you can’t handle it. You’re not good enough. You’re not strong enough. 

What the fuck were you thinking even coming here? 

The push of your thigh against the door causes the rusted metal hinge to groan again. The sound is indiscernible from relief or protest; staying or leaving. Either option makes your skin crawl. The sudden redirection of eyes casts a dome of silence and everyone zones in on the thing that wasn’t there before: you. 

No one moves and for a second, you don’t think anyone blinks. The realization of someone infiltrating a rather robust and rage-filled argument occurring at nine in the morning sinks in before the vein of awkwardness begins to bleed. You know the logical thing to do is to introduce yourself; to force a plaster-like smile on your face and extend your hand and ask how everyone is doing. 

But you don’t. 

You can’t. 

Natalie can feel the alarm bells going off in her head when her eyes float to your figure. You look worried; a flash of pensiveness and subtle fear floods your facial expression and she starts to panic. Opening a restaurant is beyond humbling and asking Becca Cantor for her help was a last-ditch effort to contain the smallest bit of confidence she had left. Besides, she would rather roll over and die than you to walk out that door, tell Becca about how they’re sledgehammering walls with a gang of lunatics at the restaurant, and somehow get a call from Uncle Jimmy that turns into a stern talking to about how they’re just dicking around with his money and how it’s a waste of time. 

You absolutely, positively can not walk out that door. 

She’ll make sure of it. Even if it’s the last thing she ever fucking does. 

Her feet carry her faster than what her brain is aware of. Her eyes have to catch up with the scenery passing her in a blur as she walks up to you. Seeing her face calms you down in a way that is small but not unnoticed. She has kind eyes and a calm demeanor. This is the kind of client that gives you confidence. This is the kind of client that brings you joy. This is the kind of work you were made to do. 

“Oh, hey! You found it!” she cheers. Her hand brushes against your bicep in a welcome. 

The pool of spit inside your mouth gets swallowed as you curtly nod. “Yeah! Yeah, I thought Apple Maps led me astray but I was definitely in the right spot.” 

Pretending not to notice the curious gazes behind your interaction proves difficult, but it’s not something you’re not used to. Working in an office means there’s always someone in your business and you always feel like you’re under constant surveillance. 

At least this time, the threat of humiliation seems considerably low. The obvious danger of being chased out of here with a sledgehammer is considerably high though. 

“How are you doing?” you ask quietly. A conversation of niceties always makes things less awkward and gives you some leeway for at least learning who the owners are of the staring eyes. 

“Yo, who the fuck is this, Suge?” Richie asks, wiping his plaster-covered hands on his shirt. His face still harbors a flush that had yet to dissipate. He also has kind eyes but you know from the moments you witnessed prior that he can turn his kindness off and on instantaneously. 

Natalie rolls her eyes and huffs. The damage control that she’s doing is not going to plan. She had grown up around cursing and incredibly forward questioning and knows that not everyone else had, and from the disastrous commotion you stumbled into five minutes prior and the way your eyes show more of the whites than the irises, the crudeness needs to take a backseat. 

At least enough of one to ensure that you’re not about to turn around and bolt out of that shitty ass door that she had been bitching at Richie to oil for the past two months. 

She moves to stand next to you and puts her arm around your shoulder. Natalie knows that the second they find out that you’re an attorney all hell will break loose. Something about accusing you of being “fed” and coming to rip the “fundamentals of democracy” out from under them brews in her mind and she gags a little at the thought of having to diffuse yet another shit show before ten in the morning. 

The unwelcome taste of acid tinging the back of her tongue makes her take a mental note to ask her OB about being so nauseous. 

“This is our attorney,” she starts and begins to ignore the groans coming from the crowd in front of her, “She’s gonna help us with some...things.” 

Richie scoffs and throws his hands up. He wipes at his nose with his forearm and some of the plaster residue makes a home on the tip of it. 

“You brought a fuckin’ fed in here, Sugar?” His eyebrows rise to his hairline and it doesn’t take a genius to know how he doesn’t want you here at all. “I told you I had this under wraps. The fuck do we need a fed up our ass for if we’re just tearin’ down walls and shit.” 

You sigh and Natalie can feel the anxiety radiating off of you. She’s starting to absorb it, but the fight in her to make this right persists. 

“Well, first of all, the fed has a fucking name, you dick,” she snaps, “And you’ve been slinging beef sandwiches your entire adult life so the fuck do we need you for?”  

Richie exhales as the rest of the people around him start to snicker. 

“Damn, Papa. You need to pipe down,” whom you guess is Tina from some of the people who had been mentioned to you through the phone calls (and there’s so many goddamn people in here for it to be out of business and you’re sure you’ll need to start doing flashcards every night to remember who they are). 

“Thanks, T,” Natalie and Richie chirp in unison; their voices capturing the different emotions of annoyance and triumph differently. 

Some more harsh words and excited chatter served with a side of frustration occurs and you’re so checked out that you don’t even realize that no one has asked you directly what your name is. The animated voices and exaggerated body movement swell the room even more; pushing you outside and three blocks away so vividly through emotion that you have to check to make sure your feet haven’t moved. 

No one has asked who you are and which firm you came from. No one has asked how you are. And still, no one has asked you what your name is. 

They continue to talk and joke and yell and you start to feel yourself shrinking in. 

Smaller, smaller, smaller. 

Gone. 

You know that it’s not personal. It’s almost never personal, but the mind tends to conjure up ideas when it can’t make sense of the feelings it detects from the body. 

Maybe it had just gotten thrown to the wayside. Maybe they were making room for direct conversation with you to occur later when things weren’t so awkward. Maybe they don’t hate you and think you’re the worst and may actually like you.

But then maybe they don’t. 

Maybe they just don’t give a fuck. 

In your catatonic daze, you hear an offhanded remark about how you look like a high schooler who just waltzed in after a Model UN convention and that Natalie has no idea what the fuck she was doing. The laughter that follows highlights those who actively agree and the agitated huffs of frustration show those who silently concur. 

In any other circumstance, you probably would have joined them in laughter or returned a smart-alecky response or accompanied them in making fun of you, but this isn’t a different circumstance. You’re in a construction zone on a Saturday morning, overdressed with a pantsuit on, and have not a clue on how hospitality law works, and the facts leave a non-disputable conclusion. 

You’re the odd one out and you can’t get an invite to be even no matter how hard you try.

You truly don’t belong here. 

“Richie, have you ever considered that maybe we need to do it right this time?” Natalie asks, her tone dripping annoyance, “Her being here clearly doesn’t affect your ability to be an idiot, so you can go fuck yourself because she’s staying.” 

Richie narrows his eyes at her. His lanky limbs flail as he attempts to make his emotions seen without having to verbalize them. Natalie has had it with his stubbornness and she knows that she might be puking her guts out in about fifteen minutes. The great debate has to have an ending in sight soon. 

Besides, she knows that Richie’s apprehension toward the whole thing is because he’s resisting change and trying to get under Carmen’s skin. It doesn’t matter how great she knows her brother can make something. Richie will try and put a pin in it before it becomes something he no longer recognizes. 

Just like their dad. Somewhat like Mikey. Especially like Carmen (even though she knows he doesn’t recognize his own stubbornness yet). 

“Jesus, that’s fuckin’ horse shit if I’ve heard it,” he sneers, “And I happen to be very intelligent and very charming – and FYI – I also know how a fucking business works and all this “foo-foo,” “high dining”, microgreen shit –” 

She holds up her hand to him and rolls her eyes. She’s surprised she hasn’t been able to see the back of her skull yet. “It’s fine dining, but whatever.” 

“Fuck all the way off. Fine dining, microgreen shit is a dishonor to our roots and I will not stand for it.” 

Natalie’s hand smacks down on a metal rolling table with a rusty toolbox and a wrinkled pad of Post-it notes. The sounds of clanky metal snap everyone’s attention to her. Natalie was never mean. She was always sugary sweet and ooey gooey; trying to be in everyone’s good graces at all times and forever attempting to fix things before they had the potential to be broken. But she could also brush the sugar off and leave a bitter and tongue-curdling hurt if she got pushed to her limit. 

She’s not had a full night’s rest since she got asked (more like begged, but she’s not one for bragging) to be their project manager, she can’t bare to stomach anything nowadays without wrestling the urge to puke it back up, and the fucking pregnancy hormones are filling her with unexplained bouts of rage as of late. 

She is not one to be fucked with and Richie knows that. He just always wants to poke the bear. 

“Well that’s fuckin’ sad that your “roots” are tied to an Italian beef shop, but that doesn’t change my mind whatsoever,” she pushes past him with more force than she intended, guiding you along with her to wherever she had in mind, “You can bitch and moan and holler all you want but you’re not the one losing your fucking mind over fucking paperwork so whatever other unhelpful and extremely negative shit you have to say can get shoved up your ass and you can get fucked because I’m not putting up with it.” 

Richie is rendered speechless – a phenomenon that does not occur very often. 

She turns to you and gives you a friendly smile. Her hand rests softly above yours that are bawled into anxious fists. “Let’s go into the office so we can talk some more. Are you okay with that?” 

You’re still frozen in equal parts shock and fear; too scared to say no. 

“Umm. . .yeah. Yeah, we can go to the back,” you swallow and she brisks you away to what you assume is where all the paperwork is housed that they need help making sense of resides. 

You arrive outside of a closed wooden door and Natalie steps in front of it, her arms coming down to hug the hinges of it in a way that makes you slightly worried. “So I know that you’re not a hospitality attorney and I know that you’re doing this for free and you’re totally at liberty to say you want out the second you say the word,” she speaks softly. 

You know that she’s starting to panic. Your feelings and her feelings are starting to merge into one; two halves of the same whole – people pleasers. 

“But it’s. . .a lot and I don’t know even know where to start and this is legitimately driving me insane so –” 

Her anxiety starts to break your heart. The pang in your chest makes your decision for you. No matter how uncomfortable you are, you know you need to do the right thing out of the kindness of your own heart. 

“No, it’s fine!” you cut her off, “I’ll take a look and we’ll figure it out. Nothing you have here is too much. I can promise you that.” 

Ocean blue irises engulf you with sentiment and appreciation through their gaze. Natalie’s shoulders sag before her hand finds the gold doorknob. A deep breath adds to the noise of chatter and squeaks of the faulty fire alarm in the hallway. The oak door opens with a wheeze and a groan; stuck because of the swell its wood causes from the constant fluctuation of temperatures in Chicago. 

“Well,” she begins, “Here it is.” 

The mountains of cardboard boxes all labeled with acronyms and doodled with nonsense send the pit in your stomach down to your toes and through the center of the Earth. 

Holy fucking shit. 

Natalie notices your shock and starts to go back into “fix-it” mode. She hasn’t eaten at all today, but she figures that the emotions bubbling up and down at a fixed and constant rate are what fill her insides and are making her nauseous. Bile starts to make its way up her throat but she forces it back down. 

She’ll be damned if this goes even more sour than how she knows it has. 

“It’s a lot and it’s more sorting things and making them make sense than doing actual work? Like you’re gonna be doing work but it’s not rocket science. . . Not that being an attorney isn’t hard! My husband is one and I. . .need to shut up now,” she word vomits. Despite the apparent fact that she’s panicking, the sound of her voice is soothing and the gentle hand she places on the junction between the base of your neck and your shoulder does wonders to ground you. “And there’s no rush to have all of it done. It’s a work at your own pace kinda thing?” 

You both know that she’s fibbing about the last part. 

The frantic text at 11 PM last week and the hour-long phone call debriefs you had yesterday and three days before say otherwise. This is her compromising and making her needs smaller. This is her being like you and you being like her; being like each other. Digging yourself into holes to help others no matter the effort – no matter the pain. 

“No, I’m doing this because I want to. Just let me know exactly what you need and we can get to it as soon as possible.” 

You know that you must have said the golden word because as soon as the statement leaves your mouth, Natalie whips out her phone and starts reading off a list she had compiled of all things that have some link to the legal world. 

Contracts. Permits. Tax revenue sheets. Paystubs. Workers Compensation. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. City Ordinances. Chicago royally fucking anyone who dares to open a business, really. 

The sad part is that this should scare you. This should make you want to run out of here and never look back and purposely take the long way to get somewhere if you knew where you were headed would cross paths with the restaurant. 

But you don’t do any of that, and the buzz of finally doing something that you know is helping people overpowers the migraine of stress you can feel looming over you the second you agree to help them out. 

“You’re amazing,” she says, eyes twinkling with admiration. 

Your cheeks turn a shade of baby pink that you hope she can’t see. You’ve never taken well to flattery. 

Richie’s knuckles give a soft knock on the door and it opens before either of you can think to welcome another presence. His gaze finds both of you fist-deep into the first box labeled “Cocksuckers: For IRS - 1987.” You already know that he’s not related to the Berzattos by blood, but the beautiful blue eyes make you question that fact. He gives a sheepish smile almost to apologize for his interruption and you think he’s about to apologize before he opens his mouth and says, “Suge, your dashing baby brother is bout to blow a fuse because the fed is here.” 

Natalie stops what she’s doing. Her hands come to rest on the flimsy cardboard box and she throws her head back to eye the ceiling. If she can count the row of six vertically, maybe she can slow her breathing and calm herself down enough to spare Carmy the chewing out of a lifetime. 

One. 

“Sugar!” 

Two. 

“Get the fuck off me!” 

Three. 

“I said get the fuck off me! I need to see my fuckin’ sister!” 

Four. 

“Sugar!” 

Five. 

“Leave me the fuck alone!” 

Six. 

“Natalie!” 

Her brother appears in front of her disheveled and angry. Even though she’s only five years older than he is, she always sees him as the little baby she used to put in her strollers and push around for years until he got too big and too “grown” to think playing with his older sister was cool. Years spent with him also meant years studying him; knowing his ticks down to the smallest one and learning how he expresses every emotion. 

It was the only way she survived living in that house until she was eighteen. 

Dealing with an angry Carmen is nothing in comparison to dealing with an angry Michael or even attempting to console a slightly agitated mother. 

Besides, Carmy’s anger, while often misguided and very explosive, was never unexpected. He always has a tell and there’s always a few seconds before he completely comes unglued. Adult temper tantrums are shit shows, and quite frankly she’s fed up with having to diffuse one of his every couple of hours as of late. 

Her face starts to fall when she sees Carmen’s left eye begins to create that deep crinkle it does when he gets pissed. He starts to wrinkle his nose and she knows that he’s about to start screaming. 

Richie lets out a whistle before pushing Carmen’s head in a playful yet agitated manner. Before his hand can be swatted at, he jumps out of the way and joins in on a distant conversation about his daughter’s last dance recital. 

He has a smug grin on his face that Carmen wants nothing more than to slap off him. He knew that touching him would provoke him even more.  

Richie always has to poke the bear. 

Always. 

Carmen tries to contain his anger the best he can. Even though he’s totally against the idea of having you in the building, he knows there’s jackshit he can do about it now. Sydney said yes, Natalie sought you out, and Uncle Jimmy thought the idea was brilliant. The vote was three against one and he knows that all he can do is go fuck himself. So much for everyone promising not to make decisions about the restaurant without his okay. 

It’s not like his credit will be the one that’s fucked if this place turns to shit. 

His arm stretches to hold the side of the door’s hinge and supports his body weight as he leans to the right. “You hired a fucking attorney and didn’t tell me?” he snaps. His face pinches in a way that brings his nose, eyes, and mouth closer together; a face their mom used to make before she came totally unglued. 

You have your back turned toward the door he’s looming in. Something about being targeted makes you want to be blind to it; to shut your eyes as tightly as you can and will it away. You know that the way he’s acting has everything to do with him and nothing to do with you, but you can’t help it. When you feel out of place, every action to push you further out feels personal. 

“She’s doing it for free,” Natalie scoffs, putting a lid back on one of the boxes and crossing her arms over her chest. She would offer up more information, but what would be the use if Carmy is as wound up as he is? 

“Free means “fuck.” She’s gonna fuck us, Sugar, and you don’t even fucking care!” he screeches, seemingly uncaring that you’re right in front of him and that he’s biting his sister’s head off as if it’s nothing. 

You start to pull files out of the boxes faster than you were before. The distraction is needed because you know that if you listen too intently to what else is being said, you’ll start internalizing it later. 

Nothing with you. Everything with him. Nothing with you. Everything with him. 

“No. She is not gonna fuck us,” she pushes a finger into his chest and her nostrils flaring, “You’re gonna fuck us because you’re being so stubborn and stupid and can’t have a goddamn conversation like an adult.” 

His chest pushes deeper into his sister’s finger. “You calling me a baby? You calling me a fucking baby?” 

Carmen usually isn’t one to pick a fight in his everyday life, but once he gets started he refuses to back down. The rational part of his brain knows that he’s going overboard but he can’t help himself. The rage inside has nowhere to go and this whole thing is really pissing him off. He’s so fucking sick of everyone acting like he’s too immature and irresponsible to handle things.

Natalie’s finger comes out to become a full palm. “Well then stop the yelling. Stop the pissy pamper attitude. Stop wasting our fucking time and just admit that you’re way over your fucking head and don’t know everything.” 

Carmen balls his hands into fists and licks his lips to prevent him from saying something really fucking mean. He knows that Natalie is just trying to help but she always is, and it fucking sucks when she always saves the day even when he doesn’t want her to. The restaurant was supposed to be theirs; supposed to be all him and Mikey and everyone who made them into the people they are. It was never supposed to be his. It was never supposed to be his when he has not a goddamn clue what he’s doing and Natalie driving herself borderline insane trying to proactively fix everything before it turns to shit. 

He doesn’t know what to say because she’s right. Sugar is always right and Carmen is always wrong and he wishes Michael was here to balance them out; to add a third option so it wasn’t so split. 

But he’s not here. He won’t be here. He never really was here. 

“Fuck!” he yells at the top of his lungs. 

“Fuck!” Natalie shouts back. 

Argument over. 

His shoes slide on the floor with ease and he tries to steady his breathing. His arms let go of the door frame and his head hangs with the dissatisfaction of still housing a boulder of anger. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he whispers, voice growing smaller as he walks away. A loud clash of hollowed metal is heard shortly after. “Fuck!” 

“Punching the lockers doesn’t get rid of the fact you’re a little bitch, Cousin.” 

Richie has to poke the bear. 

Always.

[markrosewater]

Hey, Mark, I'm not to make another UB-related request. This isn't coming from an anti-UB place, and it's just one Goose's opinion, but I'm sure there are others who feel this way.

Can we get rid of flavor words, please? I haven't seen a single upside to them presented, just downsides:

For decades, one of MtG's biggest strengths was capturing the ludonarrative. Having to spell it out makes it seem like you all have lost confidence in your ability to make card design that makes sense with the captured flavor.

If a design is intended to be funny (the Street Fighter cards come to mind), it feels like you're pointing at the "joke" and saying "See? Please laugh." As a person who has a comedy background, I'm sure you understand why killing the frog is bad.

Death of the epithet: The most minor of the criticisms, but I really think "Ian Chester, Science Teacher" reads better than "Ian Chester" and then calling his ability "science teacher." (I may be mixing up the WHO teachers, but this applies to both, luckily.) Epithets also make it easier to depict multiple "moments" of a character without giving a card up as the "definitive" version of that character.

It feels like you don't trust players to get why the card text is what it is. Telling your audience you don't expect them to be smart (or rather, literate) enough to "get" it doesn't really help. I've seen people say they add flavor to the cards, but the flavor isn't diminished by removing the flavor words (flavor is when things are fleshed out and living, not when things are spelled out). If it's for fans of the IP, then they already get it (Oh, the activated ability that grants flying is referencing this character's rocket propulsion). Non-fans of the IP aren't benefited either, as they will sus out said character has rocket propulsion or be left completely in the dark (see Cult of Skaro: These words do nothing to tell me about the ability. If you were to leave them out, I'd still be able to sus out that each ability corresponds to one of the four Daleks depicted).

Lastly, they make cards harder to read. When trying to grok a card, there should be as few words as possible I'm supposed to ignore.

I understand some people will go "I recognize the thing" and a bulb in their brain will light up, but something being easy like this doesn't mean it's better or that we actually like it more.

I guess there's the potential upside that you could slot in numerals to power up my Baron von Count deck, but I don't see any real tangible upside to them. Obviously I'm missing something. Can you say what it is?

(Also, even if you don't answer it,thank you for taking the time to answer this book of an ask. These are feelings I've been sitting on since AFR and keeping an open mind on in case I changed how I felt from my initial reaction.)

Flavor words can do some things that we can't replicate elsewhere. I agree they can be overused, and are not always used optimally, but I don't think we want to throw out the baby with the bathwater.

[wosoragebaiter69]

ignored

alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: this photo is my roman empire and new tiktok pfp 😜 (my titles on fics or SO over dramatic icl)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Being the second captain of Barcelona, meant coming with a few responsibilities. Like showing new players around, and trying to include them in the atmosphere to make the whole move less daunting. It probably makes sense considering we are the best in the world.

Which is what’s happening right now, we’ve signed a new centre-back, considering we barely have any due to injuries. Currently we rely on a defensive midfielder, and anyone we deam can do it. Not ideal. January transfer is like heaven.

We walk around, talk about our lives a little bit as I try to make conversation more homey. Apparently she has a girlfriend who plays for PSG and I talk about Alexia, my other captain and long-time girlfriend. Who may (definitely) have a slight jealousy problem.

After a while of talking and walking, we make it to the gym and I announce the arrival.

“Everyone! As you know, we have a new person joining us! Make her feel welcome, included and we won’t have any problems. Got it?” They nod their heads going back to their respective activities as the new recruit smiles fondly at me, something which doesn’t go missed by Alexia.

I turn to face the CB.

“Now you, let’s get you headed for the locker room. I’ll show you your area and then you can go home for now. I’m assuming Jona has emailed you a schedule of everything?” She nods.

“Alright, now message me if you need anything and I’ll add you to the main group chat all of the girls are in.” She smiles and I lead her toward our changing rooms showing her where she’ll be.

“You can decorate a little bit, add some personality like some of the girls have. Anything you need can be kept here.” I point to a door at the end of the room.

“That’s the showers, obviously if you’re going anywhere after trainings. I know Patri likes to play music, so I suggest some strong noise-cancelling headphones if you don’t like the music. Any questions?” She shakes her head, I smile.

“Well then, go home. Settle into the new apartment, Ale and I live pretty close to you. Same with Ingrid and Mapi, who are also willing to answer anything else you have in mind.”

I pause.

“Now, if that girlfriend of yours ever comes to visit I’d like to meet her, I know it seems straightforward but I do like meeting new people.” I notice the recruit blushing, and pat her shoulder before leaving.

- - - - -

Over the next couple days, I ensure the new defender is fitting in well and she is. Hanging out with Ingrid and Frido but also Keira and Aitana, it’s good to see.

Alexia might think differently. I noticed her getting worked up over something but I can’t imagine what. I can but I don’t know how when a quick instagram search could cease any of her worries. She’s too straight headed for that.

It’s after training when I see her approach, I’m speaking on tactics in the locker room when Alexia slides in next to me, her arm wrapping protectively around my waist. I smirk then hear what she has to say.

“Ready to go home amor?” She says, kissing my neck softly, something she’d rarely do in such a public setting. I stifle my laugh nodding and saying my goodbyes to everyone else, getting in the passenger seat of our car as Alexia insists she always drives.

I sigh, her jaw is set and I can tell something is wrong.

“Alexia, qué pasó?” She shakes her head, her knuckles growing whiter as she grips the steering wheel. I know I can’t do anything but I seem so helpless at the moment.

It’s a completely different change from the confidence in the change rooms to now not even speaking to me.

We head inside without saying a word, I head straight for a shower to hopefully get a grip on where the conversation with Alexia will lead.

- - - - -

After the shower, I walk into the living room and Alexia is sat with her legs crossed in the couch, staring straight ahead at the blank TV. I break the silence.

“If you stare at the poor TV any longer I think it’ll break.” She doesn’t say anything, just nodding slowly her eyes darting toward me before back in front.

“I will not do this Ale. You need to tell me your feelings or we can’t work this out.” She huffs leaning back.

“Lo siento, I just… missed you.” Her voice quiet, I nod in understanding, I spent a lot of time with the new defender.

“So in other words, you’re jealous?” She blows an air bubble between her lips. (do you guys know what i mean by that)

“Maybe.” I can barely hear her voice but I don’t need to.

“Well baby, nothing to worry about because A. she has a girlfriend and B. I love you more than anything. Never forget that. I’ll try make more time and maybe we can meet the new ones girlfriend when she comes to Spain.” She nods slowly.

“Sorry I acted this way.” I shake my head.

“No, it’s ok. I understand, I sort of put you aside. I’ve learnt and I’ll prioritise your feelings a little bit more in the future.” She nods, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Te amo Ale. Remember it forever.” I place my lips against hers, gently and full of passion that I’d never give to anyone but her.

When oxygen gets the best of us I rest my forehead against hers, breathing in everything of this moment. Oh, I never want to leave.

[blushcoloreddreams]

Perfume IS an essencial: Here’s 4 reasons why

Good Afternoon Dear Reader! Happy Saturday directly from Argentina

Before we dive into today's topic, I wanted to talk briefly about why these "practical" and lighter and style blog posts are JUST as important as the heart-felt blogs on heavier topics and more practical ones like organization, cooking and cleaning tips

This blog is a place where I am trying to gather useful information to help us grow as feminine women, whether that is in our hearts, our homes, our lives, or even in our own skin. I believe in a well-rounded growth perspective: I am trying to improve many areas of my life, even if they are just practical and simple.

So today I wanted to talk about one of these more "practical and simple" topics: perfume.

At first glance this topic can seem kind of boring, like "yeah, no one likes smelling bad, so wear perfume, DUH." But I think perfume is so much more than that!

I believe that a spritz of perfume can actually improve your day, your confidence, and your overall aura as a feminine woman.

***DISCLAIMER: I know that smells can trigger allergic reactions in people, and there are actually fragrance-free zones such as certain churches or work environments. Do not break those rules just to follow my advice LOL!

The women jn my life were always had a passion from perfumery and I remember using it even as a child, but I only started being interested in it during my teenage years and in the past my interest and collection only grew. But I remember that during times of intense sadness in my life, I understand that something simple as even filling in your eyebrows can be a completely exhausting task! So much personal care falls off your daily routine when you can't handle what life is throwing at you and I think that adding perfume to your routine can be an easy way to elevate your grooming.

In order to really stick to this habit, I decided to focus on WHY I should wear perfume. So here we go! This may convince you too.

1. Perfume Adds LUXURY To Life

I know what some of you may be thinking: "I'm just at home, and deodorant is good enough for me!" or "I'm just in an office chair, why do I need to smell amazing?" and finally, "I'm just going to work out later so it doesn't matter!"

You know what I say to all those reasons?

You are an amazing woman and you deserve to have a little extra luxury in your day, even if you are behind a vacuum, a computer, or a treadmill.

Most of us aren't going to be lounging on a velvet chaise with champagne and a cashmere blanket wrapped around us tonight anyways! We're not living that lux life, so why not add extra luxury into our days?

When you're vacuuming the house or reading through spreadsheets, it can be easy to feel like cinderella BEFORE she went to the ball. A fragrance reminds you that you are an elegant, feminine WOMAN, and that you are WORTHY of a little luxury.

So pick up a fragrance you love, (doesn't have to be costly,) and indulge! You are WORTHY of that extra 10 seconds on yourself.

2. Perfume Can Make You HAPPIER!

So today I was spritzing on some body spray when I realized that I had a soft smile on my face. Seriously: I was just smiling to myself! Sol de Janeiro cheirosa 71 (my newest obsession! ) evokes a reaction of pleasure: it makes me smile.

Do you remember learning about the senses in school? They can evoke emotion, thoughts, feelings, and action. Touch can make you take action when you feel pain. Taste evokes pleasure when you encounter delicious food. Likewise, smell can evoke pleasant emotion or distaste.

If there was a little life hack that could have you smiling 2 more times a day than you already do, wouldn't you do it? Fragrance is SUCH simple way to accomplish this!

And a bonus? When you smell good, other people notice! I LOVE when my husband tells me I smell good, or when a friend goes in for a hug and comments that she loves the smell I'm wearing. Smelling good feels GOOD!

3. Perfume Helps You Get in Touch With FEMININITY

When I was a kid, Id watch every morning my mom and grandma get ready and wear their favorite perfumes ( that I have the smell in my memory to this day). I made a promise to myself that when I became a woman at the age of I would begin doing 3 things EVERY DAY: wearing lipstick, carrying a stylish purse, and wearing perfume.

I think I knew, even as a child, that perfume was for women. Full grown, feminine, gracious, beautiful women. Adding fragrance to your routine is a way of stepping into that feminine womanhood and embracing yourself.

Perfume can also be especially helpful for women who are kind of uncomfortable with their femininity. You can begin exploring the possibilities with just a small change. Add a bit of mystery, femininity, sweetness, or glamour to ANY outfit. Elevate your look and tip toe into femininity with a fragrance. Pair a ponytail and sneakers with some vanilla body spray: you might be surprised at how it makes you smile!

4. Perfume Helps You EXPRESS Yourself

I truly believe that the sense of smell is neglected in our modern culture. We are MUCH more focused on the visuals of our beauty routine: hair, fashion, makeup, etc. And why? Well, you can't smell a picture on Instagram! Why invest in something so small when no one can really experience it? Who cares about smell?

Well, maybe we SHOULD care! When you meet someone, you are taking them in through a lot of the senses: a firm handshake, the visuals of their face, the way their voice sounds, and yes, THEIR SMELL!

When you go out into the world, think about the entire picture of you as a person: your smell, your style, your "vibe." What is your overall aura? Perfume can help you add a dimension of creative expression to your overall vibe and style. Express yourself!

***Bonus tip: Hydration is essential for perfume performance and it starts from the inside by drinking enough water and continues with applying lotion before your perfume. (Even better if you can do it post shower when your skin is still a bit damp). Some people also apply a small bit of vaseline or petroleum jelly to your wrists and neck (the pulse regions) before you spray. It helps your scent last longer!

And closing, perfume can add luxury to our day, help us feel happy, help us get in touch with femininity, and allow us to express ourselves! What's not to love?

xoxo

Júlia

[uplatterme]

MORAX, The Second.

MASTERLIST | BARBATOS | BEELZEBUL

cw: sub!zhongli, dragon hybrid!zhongli, jealous!zhongli, dom!reader, they/them pronouns, dacryphilia, drink spiking, overstimulation, orgasm denial, implied poly!zhongli and poly!reader

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ZHONGLI AND HAPPY NEW YEARS EVERYBODY! this is gonna be sappy so feel free to skip this note but i want everyone to know that i’m truly grateful for my readers and the commissions that i’ve gotten this year despite me being gone half of the year. i love you guys so much, let’s look forward to a year full of simping and i hope that everyone’s wishes will come true as well :D

———

Your visit to Liyue was uneventful, and you liked it that way, just needing a time to unwind especially with having too much on your plate lately. You planned on merely checking out newfound ores and jewelry to add to your collection. Unfortunately, things took a rather quick turn than your normal visits.

Your hands were on Zhongli’s collar, clutching them angrily despite the unfazed appearance of the archon. Your head hurt, you were dizzy and annoyed being woken up and put in this state by no one other than the man in your grasp. His eyes were serious and stern, acting like he didn’t understand what it was that he did wrong.

“You!” You slurred out. “You purposely made me drunk!”

“I…” He mused out, disappointed at how you’re behaving.

“My apologies, It wasn’t my choice to upset you.”

“You archons and your spoiled attitude… Is that a requirement for being one?” You sighed, letting go of the man and trying to regain yourself.

“Just weeks ago, Barbatos pulled a similar stunt. Seducing me, even.” You expanded on your reasoning for being angry.

“Did it work?” He questioned, a worried look on his face that he may have been too late.

You let out an amused laugh. “If it did?”

Silence seemed to fill the cave you were in and you found yourself idiotic for letting another god have his way without noticing it. You two had a meal, Zhongli calling over the waiter each time to refill your glass. Not wanting to seem rude, you kept drinking. 

The Geo Archon’s mood had been sour ever since you saw him. 

He put his arms around your waist, not letting you go and blocking the entrance with one of his structures.

“I…How do I say this? Must you really spend time with that drunkard and that girl more than me?”

You clenched your fists, his warmth relieving the coldness of the now dark cave as the light which was previously coming from outside was now shut. Your eyes only focused on Morax’s glowing ones.

“Morax… You and I both know that you’re different from Barbatos.”

You knew that both of them were the complete opposite. Morax was the one who thought of things in a more calculated manner. However, if one continued to store their feelings without a word, they would eventually come crashing down like a meteor.

“This isn’t something you’d normally do.” You restated so that it would be clearer for him.

“If it’s something to prove that I have fallen deeply, even comparable to the deepest layer of the earth for you, then it is. It is something that I would do.” His words would take even a bard for a surprise.

“I’m already bound to Barbatos. Does that not sadden you?” You questioned the god.

“It’s not something that I wish to be reminded of.” He admitted.

“I see. I’m still not happy about this but…should I make that the least of your worries?”

It didn’t take much for the god to be lost in a trance full of pleasure. It was as if he was a zither who’d let out a sound each time you plucked his strings. Perhaps it was due to the darkness making his senses twice more attentive but he was just too sensitive, far too sensitive.

It didn’t matter where your fingers lingered upon, his breath would hitch as he awaited for you. 

Undressing Morax revealed his toned body, shiny and gorgeous scales that beautifully decorated the human form that he took. 

“No amount of Mora could compare, Morax.” Your words made his heart flutter, he always liked it whenever you praised him.

It embarrassed him that he was already in this state when he was the one who said that he would seduce you. If he couldn’t even last long, how would he even be able to achieve that? He stopped your hand that was making its way to his cock, to your surprise.

“Is this not to your liking?” You asked.

No one may be around, but the rocks would always remember. They would remember everything, especially the contract that he had decided to make with you.

“It would be better if we were to make a contract.” He stated.

“A contract? For what?”

Morax bit his tongue, were you really forcing him to say it out loud? His cheeks heated up, thankful for the darkness that surrounded the cave.

“To not finish until penetration begins…”

You sealed your lips, not expecting him out of all people to say something like that. “Alright, and what if you do?”

“Then, you have the right to deal with my body as you wish.” 

“Big talk for someone as needy as you.” You said, latching your fingers to his nipples that had his cock twitching.

Zhongli’s sensitivity finally made sense. He probably hadn’t had sex in this human form of his, which was why each time you kept pushing his buttons, he already felt being sent over the edge.

Still, you knew how he was about contracts. He wouldn’t disappoint you now, would he?

Maybe you should take back your statement of him not being familiar with the art of seduction, especially with the way he fluttered his eyelashes at you as he moaned out loud, whispering your name under his breath.

“Haah!~” Zhongli spat out, feeling your teeth on his shoulder. You didn’t expect him to react so much from just a bite, but he is a dragon, perhaps having his skin hurt when he’s not used to any kind of pain was something he found pleasurable?

You haven’t even gotten to the best part yet and he was already providing so much.

Morax’s cock was something you needed to see to believe. His smooth skin contrasted with its rough and large shape. Moreover, he’s already oozing out cum more than the average man. If you weren’t paying attention, you would have mistaken it for him already being at his climax.

He yelped when he felt you grind against his groin, tears swelling up his eyes. You weren’t doing much, just allowing the friction from your clothes to do all the work for you. Yet, Morax is sobbing as he chanted your name like it was some sort of spell.

“Ugh, Please!” He screamed out, your fingertips lightly dancing on the tip of his hardened cock. He may have said it out loud but it looked more like he was saying it to himself, that he shouldn’t cum this easily.

His voice serenaded you even more when you grasp what you could of his cock and slowly started stroking up and down. His thighs quiver, seeking the warmth and movement from your hand. His body moving on its own, humping and grinding against the cage of your hands.

“Stop—stop! I can’t—Not yet!” He whimpered out desperately, the pleasure was too much to the point that his body was moving on its own accordance and he couldn’t do anything but to grit his teeth together, begging his own body to stop before he stepped out of line.

He faced down, face full of shame as he had no choice but to swallow in it, that he as the god of contracts, was unable to fulfill something that he proposed himself.

“Nghh-!” You pulled his ponytail like it was a collar, making him face you as he dwelled in the pleasure that you had given him oh so generously.

His vision is blurry, mind too hazy to think but he focused it on you. Your face which seemed to be judging his actions. He pushed down his sobs, holding them as much as he could, not wanting to receive your wrath.

“Good boy, I haven’t even said anything and you’ve already got it.” He sniffled, quieting down even if your movements had become more quick and rigorous. He was furiously shaking his head, begging for no more. If he couldn’t even take this, he’d just come off as someone narcissistic, someone that’s all talk.

His hands held onto your arms, drool dripping down to Morax’s chin. He wouldn’t be able to stop it anymore and he was letting you know that.

“Hmph! Ah-ah-ah!” 

His nails grew sharper and started digging into your skin, though it seemed as if he was unaware of it. You continued stroking his cock determining when he’d reach his limit. He looked like a mess, continuing to beg himself to stop although none of his pleas were to you.

You stopped at the right moment, his back arching, cum splattering on the floor. He didn’t cum. He didn’t, but he felt both disappointed and glad that he didn’t.

“Good job, Morax.” You congratulated him.

“You held back…” He said breathlessly.

“You should be thanking me and apologizing instead.” Morax glanced at your scratched arm and flushed a deep red.

“I-I apologize! It wasn’t–” You placed a finger on his lips.

“I’m still mad about everything. Don’t think just because I gave you what you want meant that I have forgiven you.”

He clicked his tongue. “I see. What will it take for me to be forgiven then?”

“I don’t know, just let me have my way with you while I think about it.” 

“Of course–Hn!” Zhongli choked out a sob. You didn’t even let him finish before you had attacked the god.

“You’re so fucking slutty, Morax. Look at how you crumble under me.” Your cold voice sent shivers down his spine, already cumming from having his insides played with.

Your words conflicted with his thoughts. Why was he so enamored of you to begin with? To the point that even if you throw such harsh words, he would still consider them as praise regardless.

He cried from the way you ravaged his walls, you were so forceful but it felt so damn good. Like you knew that this was just the kind of thing he was into.

You had him scratching the ground beneath him, unable to hold onto anything inside the cave. It’s cold, and the smell of alcohol you previously ingested mixed well with your smell. It was addicting, something he couldn’t get enough of.

His throat hurt from moaning nonstop, but how could he restrain himself when you’re fucking him as if there’s no tomorrow?

“Hmpf–Keep going!” He pleaded, knees bruised against the ground.

Morax shivered when he heard a crumble coming from his right ear. The structure that he’d placed there collapsed due to his senses being dumbed down. He whined as he realized that he could see everything, all the biting that you’d done to him, his legs sticky with his own cum and the marking that he’d accidentally placed onto you.

Worry came right after when he figured out that if the entrance was open, people could pass by or hear him. Or worse, any of the adepti would be able to hear the pathetic noises that he was making right now.

He shut his lips together, crying out instead of making any sound.

You slammed your legs even harder, Morax gasping as he shook his head at the pleasure that was overwhelming him, cumming again within just a few minutes.

“N-No more…” He begged, hoping that you’d take any kind of pity on him.

“You say that, yet you were the one who said yes. Just earlier you suggested that I may do what I wish with your body and now you’re taking it back?”

“Do you think that’s fair at all? Mr. God of Contracts?”

Morax reached his climax again and this time, the god growled. A dragon’s roar that was surely heard by everyone in Liyue.

You giggled. “Rex Lapis, you were supposed to be laying low. Is it that good?”

“Please–!” 

You sighed, not being able to believe that you were strapping another archon to your belt.

“Fine, but only because you’ve proven that you’d risk your identity to others to be with me.”

You don’t think you could handle two archons fighting over you and you’re sure that Barbatos already knew of what you two did. 

You’re just glad that Ei wasn’t like them.

Or so you thought.

[3liza]

I'm trying to figure out how to communicate instructions to other people about how I almost completely escaped my crippling adolescent body dysmorphia and anorexia but the thing is I don't really know how it happened. it was like one day I woke up and didn't care that much.

i still had all the central psychological dysfunctions but it was like I had decided to ignore them because I had finally internalized that I was acting crazy and acting crazy, unlike being crazy, is a choice. unless you're experiencing psychosis or delusions. and the body dysmorphia is a form of delusion certainly but it's a form you can still sample against reality and see that it's not matching up. you can't do this with actual hallucinations but you can do it with stuff like obsessive thoughts about how ugly you are and how everyone hates you and how ugly people have no value etc etc. that kind of stuff is observably false and integrating constant reality checking into your obsession loops will derail a lot of the delusional obsession. your brain will fight back with arguments like "it's fine for her to be ugly because of magical reason I made up but it's not fine for me because of another magical reason I made up" but these arguments can also be quickly reality checked into irrelevance even if you still *feel* they are true. you may FEEL that the obsessive delusions are true but you can, to a certain extent, make a decision to KNOW and more importantly to ACT as if they are not.

so the new thought loop could go something like: "I'm so fucking ugly. so what if I'm 'ugly'. it doesn't seem to matter when I look around and reality check my level of ugliness to the success and affection people uglier than I am seem to experience. there just be something else wrong with me. but that doesn't make sense because actually a lot of people do like me and care about me. i have proof of that in the form of messages and memories. I'm so fucking ugly. but I'm looking closely at this unfiltered Getty image in incredibly high resolution of a celebrity on the red carpet. and she has terrible skin. her skin looks just as bad as mine does in the brightly lit bathroom mirror because there are no filters on this brightly lit professional journalist's photograph. that's really interesting. i bet I can see the same level of ugliness in everyone else that I see in the mirror if I really look"

i don't think you can fix yourself to be not crazy. i don't think that's a thing that happens. i think most therapists are useless or MLM subscribers who want to try out their latest hype word MLM technique on your because they paid $3000 to be "certified" in Hidden Dream Cousin Interrogation Biodynamics, which will test 2% better than jingling keys in front of the control group in two papers on PubMed until crumbling to replication crisis in three years.

i think what you can actually do is add additional systems checks to deal with how fucking crazy you are and always will be until you stop being able to fuck up as much with it. like an airlock system basically. i think good therapists are able to show people how to do this and maybe get them meds that tamp down some of the nasty things the craziness constantly causes to happen. but they're so rare I've never actually met one lmao

[gingerrgen]

Skinny dipping!

Ellie x f!reader

Part2 of ROOMMATES

a/n: first Ellie smut, tried my best! 🐞

tw: fingering, pet names (doll), semipublic, public fingering, skinny dipping

________________

You look around seeing if there's no one around "we're far enough right?", she nods answering your question.

"But don't look" you say embarrassed before taking off my clothes, she chuckles "Don't worry doll, i won't look". You start taking off your clothes, the though of getting naked knowing people are nearby excited you, Ellie could sense that, she's stripping off too.

"Don't look Ellie!" you say after you take off all of your clothes, you turn around, watching her toned body, her tattoo, scars, freckles all over her back, what a sigh; "now" you tell her before she turns around taking a look at your body.

Her eyes says it all, she enjoyes the view of you.

"This is weird, being completely naked to the world to see" you say looking around, Ellie just laughs at your comment before offering her hand to get in the water, "Come on doll", you give her a small nod before you two ran into the water, giggles and laughs all over the place.

"Nothing like a naked swim in the lake" Ellie adds to the situation, you let yourself take in my the water, nothing else matters now, just you and her.

You two swim for a while, splashing water and taking in the sun over the water.

"This is...refreshing" you said looking at her "This is perfect" she says before pulling you into her embrace, her hand in your waist keeping you as close as possible to her, both of your slippery bodies against each other. "I hope no one see us", "yeah me too, but the thought of being in public and the risk of getting caught it's exciting, huh?" You shake your head in disbelief at her comment "you're so stupid" you say between laughs

You wrap your arms around her neck for support, but this only make both of your bodies closer, Ellie's hands now wondering all over your body, the water slapping around your bodies...her hand tracing small patters, you two feel the tension building up.

"Since we're this close...there's plenty we can do", you look at her with knowing eyes, "Whatever you wanna do, I'm in" it's all you say and all she has to hear before her hand starter going down your thigh now, wondering that place you wanted her to touch.

"Ellie...don't tease" "What? What do you want doll, I can't hear you..." you hated when she did that, you hated it so badly it makes you want to have more of her, of her touch. "Since you're so needy I may give you what you want, don't you think?" you nodded at her comment.

Her hand finally touched your pussy, the spot you're aching for her to touch she's doing it, slow and painful circles over your clit, enough to make you whimper and cry for more. She teases your puffy clit a little while just to hear your voice, she inserts one digit making you choke on your breath

"Fuck...Ellie" you whimper gripping onto her back, she grins at your whimpers "Such perfect whimpers" she says as her finger send you jolts of pleasure all over your body.

"More...please" she couldn't say no to your plea, she adds another finger making you squirm, short moans leaving your mouth, music to Ellie's ears.

She hits that perfect spot that makes you crazy "Ah ah Ellie, don't stop don't stop" you moan as her fingers do magic over you.

"I'm close...." I all you can say at the pleasure building up "I can tell how close you are" she says with that cocky voice, she fingers you harder and deeper, enough to send you to your climax, releasing all over her thick fingers. You moan loudly as you release, leaving you panting, she holds you close to support you.

You hide your face on the crook of her neck "I'm so embarrassed" you say, she laughs softly "Hey there's nothing to be embarrassed" she says caress your face with her soft hand giving you a reassuring smile.

You two stayed in the water a while more before going out to quickly wrap yourselves with a towel. She sits down admiring the sight of you, "Well doll that was quite an experience", you laugh as what she said sitting down beside her "I didn't expect you to melt so easily, doll. I like that though, it's cute" she says teasing you. "Oh shut up, it's been a while"

The both of you lay down on the mat looking the sky, the rays of sun going through the leaves, it was a memorable moment with your roommate Ellie.

________________________

a/n: How was it guys? I'm really starting to get a hang on this, it's fun and I like giving the people what they want 😼🐞

hashtags: