#Low Light Imaging Market

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

Low Light Imaging Market To Reach USD 51,466 Million by 2030

The size of the low light imaging market was USD 23,749 million in 2022, and it push at a rate of 10.15% in the years to come, to touch USD 51,466 million by 2030, as per a report by a market research institution, P&S Intelligence. The CMOS category had the largest revenue share, of over 60%. This has a lot to do with its low cost of manufacturing, high-speed imaging, flexibility in the process…

[sofiadzzle]

Magnetic Force of a Man

smut 18+ mdni

Pairing: ceo!Jay x worker!Y/N

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, dom!Jay, impregnation, dirty talk, fingering, pussy fucking, female masturbation, age gap (4 years), exhibitionism, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cursed as I stared down at the tear in my brand new sheer pantyhose. "Run-proof my ass! "

Shaking my head in dismay, I quickly looked around the large underground parking garage, praying to God that no one could see or hear me as I hurriedly positioned myself between my front door and the driver's seat of my beige sedan, hiking my lavender pencil skirt up to my ass, and then slid the ruined pair of hose the rest of the way down my legs.

Thankfully, I packed an extra pair!

I sat down on the side of the car seat and removed my violet high heels, almost like I was pulling out the replacements, taking them from the packing and quickly began slipping my feet inside.

The voice of a man said abruptly, "Yes, that's right."

My breath caught in my throat, I paused and turned to see the source of the voice. I was stunned by what I saw and halted abruptly, my new pantyhose halfway up my legs.

He had a great appearance. He was sitting at least fifty feet away from me, yet I could still see the platinum shine of his watch as he raised his left arm to check the time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy blue suit. His shiny black low-cut hair must have reached at least five eleven" in height.

With a dark satchel clasped in his right hand, he confidently walked towards the elevator labeled "PRIVATE." His broad shoulders, confident gait, and commanding presence evoked the image of a male model seen in GQ publications. His whole demeanor was confident.

I could tell that he was chatting to someone else and not about me or my pantyhose dilemma when a blue light blinked next to his ear. He never even gave me a sidelong glance.

I eventually snapped back to reality as he slid behind one of the pillars and finished pulling on my pantyhose. I tucked my skirt in and put my stilettos back on, eager to begin my first day of training as an executive assistant for Park Industries within the enormous, imposing Park Business building. (It seems the corporation required more than one because it was so large.)

I'd never seen or heard of Jay Park, the CEO of the company, before applying for this job. Even though I had looked him up online, all the pictures I could find of him included him wearing dark sunglasses and hats, which made me think he was probably a very secretive person. It appeared that he would much rather maintain a very low profile than be in the spotlight.

Nothing could have prepared me for the day I visited the Park Building for the first time, even though I had finished an internship at a Fortune 500 corporation close to my college campus.

My first interview had been with a woman named Son Eunsaem. She'd had a highly professional appearance and a no-nonsense attitude. She hadn't smiled once during the interview.

I was surprised when I got a call back for a second interview. That was where I met the other executive assistants. Park Industries had an executive assistant for each and every department in the company, and I had applied to the marketing department.

And I started working on the actual job today. At nine o'clock, I had my official orientation meeting, and then I was meant to meet with Jay Park, the company's CEO.

On their first day of work, all new hires were required to meet with the CEO, who was said to like having face-to-face meetings with each and every one of his staff members. I'll admit that I was anxious, but I was also interested to see this billionaire's true appearance.

The thirty-story building housed the marketing department on its twenty-fifth floor. At the orientation, there was another new hire in addition to me. Ryu Hanbin was his name, and he had been employed in the software department.

At orientation, our ID cards were issued to each of us. We were granted entry to the elevators, break facilities, and exits reserved for employees only. My heart started to race inside my chest as the orientation was coming to a conclusion.

Hanbin and I were taken to a private employee elevator and showed how to use our ID cards to operate it. Jay Park's office was on the top floor, and that's where our orientation leader, a middle-aged woman named Won Chaerin, led us up.

As the elevator door opened at the pinnacle floor, we had been greeted with the aid of using a short, stout, but very neat and well-groomed bald guy with a cleanly-shaven face in a vibrant purple pantsuit.

"Welcome to Park Land,” he stated with a welcoming grin as he reached out to shake our hands. "That's what we name the pinnacle floor, right here." He appeared to laugh after each sentence he spoke. “My call is Jinyoung, however all of us right here calls me Jin.” Another laugh.

What a unusual guy, I thought.

He led us down a hallway that ended with a reception table and a small living room area. There had been high-returned black leather-based chairs and a large flat-display tv withinside the ready area. There additionally regarded to be a bar of a few kind in the back of the reception table.

"Y'all can simply make yourselves comfortable whilst I allow Mr. Park recognize you are right here,” he instructed us with every other laugh earlier than sashaying returned to his spot in the back of the reception table.

"Thank you,” I instructed him as I took a seat in one of the leather-based chairs and crossed my legs.

As I sat ready, my heart commenced to overcome so rapid that it felt like it'd leap up out of my throat at any second. A stolen look over at Hanbin noticed his foot nervously tapping in opposition to the carpeted floor, and I felt relieved that I wasn't the simplest worried individual withinside the room.

A second later, the telephone on Jin's table rang, and he spoke back it on speaker.

"Send Ms. Y/L/N in first,” the voice said in a deep, authoritative tone.

"Right away, sir," Jin answered as he glanced over towards me.

I stood up and accompanied him down but every other lengthy hallway, with stylish artwork lining the partitions and porcelain statues each few feet.

At the quit of the hall, there has been a fancy-searching door with a platinum door knob.

"Knock, knock,” Jin said in a singsong-like voice as he knocked on it twice before turning the knob and pushing it open. “Ms. Y/L/N, meet Mr. Jay Park.”

He waited for me to step inside the large, elaborately decorated office before shutting the door behind me.

I stood there, with my back to the door and my orientation folder in my hand, not sure what to do next. Mr. Park had his head down and was doing something on his phone, but as soon as the door closed, he looked directly up at me, and my jaw almost hit the floor in utter awe.

Jay Park was none other than the sexy, model-esque man who'd been walking through the employee parking garage earlier.

I knew I was staring, but I didn't care. The man was a real-life Adonis.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. Come. Have a seat.”

It was more of an order than a request, but I didn't mind. He had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes. They were a deep, dark br, and I felt as if I could get lost in them if I stared too long.

He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. He was eyeing me curiously as I made my way over to the chair in front of his huge, rectangular desk. I felt as if he was sizing me up for something... something other than just this job position.

"So, Ms. Y/L/N, you are twenty-four and you have an MS in Business Management. Impressive. What are your plans in the next five years?”

I felt completely on the spot. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Well, I'm hoping to be working a job I love, maybe get promoted, and start moving up in the ranks."

"Hmm," he said quietly.

I leaned forward a bit and noticed that he had a folder open with my resume, cover letter, and some photos of me inside.

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

My heart sped up and began to beat harder than ever. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white silk shirt hugged his toned upper body with flair, accenting the broadness of his shoulders.

I shook my head and swallowed hard as my body temperature began to rise. No man had ever had such a profound effect on me. I could actually feel heat starting to build within my core and a noticeable tingling between my thighs.

He walked around to the back of my chair and stood behind me. My heart was beating a billion beats per minute.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

I shuddered at the feel of his breath against my lobe. My body was completely on fire for this man, and he hadn't even touched me. I was at a loss for words.

I wanted to glance up at him, but I was frozen in place like a stone statue, and all I could do was sit there facing forward as I waited to see what was going to happen next. From behind me, I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly.

“Ahh, your perfume is intoxicating, but I sense something else about you, Ms. Y/L/N. You are in your prime,” he stated sensuously, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips were so close to my neck that his breath felt hot against my skin. It caused a shiver to run down my spine, and I had to muster every ounce of strength to keep a moan from escaping my lips.

Then, suddenly, he stood straight up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, and his demeanor had returned to a strictly professional one.

"Mrs. Son was quite impressed with you and spoke very highly of your interview," he said plainly as he sat back down in his chair.

"Really? Wow," I replied.

"You sound surprised," he said with a slight grin. "I know she can come across as somewhat ‘rigid, but it's all just part of how she does her job. She's extremely professional and would make an excellent poker player, no doubt.”

He chuckled slightly at his comment, and I uttered a small giggle as well.

"Well, I'm certain you'll be a definite asset to Park Industries, Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome to the team,” he said with a smile.

His smile revealed a set of the most perfect pearly whites I had ever seen up close. While staring at them, I almost missed the fact that he'd also extended his hand to me.

"Thank you, Mr. Park,” I said nervously, returning his smile with one of my own.

"You have a lovely smile, Ms. Y/L/N," he stated softly, still holding onto my hand after I'd stopped shaking it.

“Thanks,” I said coyly, tearing my eyes away from his before I became completely lost in them.

He ran his thumb slowly across the side of my hand before finally letting it go. That small, simple touch from him only added more fuel to the fire that was already building in my loins.

“Ms. Y/L/N? ”He called out to me just as I was about to leave his office.

"Yes?" I replied, turning around to look at him one more time.

"I'm having a small meeting this evening at the Italy Garden restaurant. The dress code is semi-formal. Can you be ready by 7:00?”

"Uhh, yes. Certainly, Mr. Park,” I replied, caught completely off guard.

"Great. I'll send a car to your place at 7:00, then.”

I left his office feeling flustered in more ways than one. It had been more than a year since I'd last had sex, and my attraction to Mr. Park was anything but subtle. He had a magnetic effect on me, one that I knew I was incapable of fighting.

I walked swiftly down the hall, past the small lounge where Hanbin was still seated, and into the ladies' restroom directly adjacent to Jin's reception desk. Breathing hard, I went into one of the stalls, set my folder down on the back of the commode, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my pants down to my thighs.

Panting like an animal in heat, I sat down on the seat and spread my legs.

"Mmm," I muttered as I closed my eyes and placed my right hand on the crotch of my thin satin pants.

Yanking my pants to the side, I exposed my moist, partially-swollen bud and began to massage it. Another moan escaped my lips as I bucked my hips and rubbed my pussy faster and harder.

I imagined that Mr. Park was in the bathroom stall with me and that he had pulled my pants to the side. It was his lips and tongue against my throbbing, swollen bulb, causing sighs and moans of delight to escape my mouth and sending me into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Ohhh,” I murmured softly as I pictured him rubbing the head of his hard, pulsating cock against my slick, hot slit.

I imagined his hands grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard in a fit of primal, uncontrollable passion. I pictured him entering me slowly at first, until his rock-hard dick was deep inside my pussy, stretching me to the limit.

"Fuuuck," I whispered as I plunged my fingers as deep into my warm, wet tunnel as they would go. "Yesss! Fuck me, Mr. Park!"

I imagined his cock moving in and out of me, faster and harder, fucking like wild animals as we both got closer and closer to our climaxes. Completely and totally engulfed in how unbelievably good the sex felt, neither one of us even cared that we were fucking unprotected.

"I want you to cum inside me, Mr. Park,” I imagined telling him. “Oh fuck, yessss! Cum in my pussy! Fill me up with your cum."

I didn't even care if I got pregnant or not; I just needed to feel his hot cum inside of me.

I was right on the brink of my orgasm, and I could already tell it was going to be a really good one. As I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, I pictured myself biting down on Mr. Park's ear to stifle my passion-filled moans.

My legs began to shake, and my hips bucked uncontrollably as a powerful climax wracked my entire body. I imagined Mr. Park squeezing my ass cheeks hard as his cock squirted into my cunt, filling me to the brim.

"Ohhh," I whispered, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as my orgasm began to wane.

After taking a moment to enjoy the afterglow, I quickly cleaned myself up, left the restroom, and headed back down to the 25th floor to finish out my workday.

I had just finished putting on my makeup when I noticed it was 6:45. The dress I had selected for tonight's meeting was a long, form-fitting silver cocktail gown I'd bought last spring. It was elegant, with a touch of sex appeal. The back dipped below the waist, and the front wrapped around the neck.

At 6:54, I heard a horn blow outside of my apartment. I slid into a pair of silver stiletto sandals, grabbed a small silver purse, and headed outside.

"Wow!" I exclaimed when I saw the pearly white stretch limousine waiting at the curb.

A tuxedo-clad chauffer opened my door for me and helped me into the back seat.

The inside of the limousine was immaculate! There was a fully-stocked bar with liquor, wine, and champagne. There were wine glasses on a glass shelf next to the bar. There was also a small fridge with fruits, cheeses, and other exotic-looking snack foods.

I helped myself to a glass of champagne and turned on the satellite radio to listen to on the way to the restaurant.

When we arrived about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur helped me out of the limo, and I walked inside. An older male host in a black and white suit was standing at a podium near the entrance.

"Good evening, Madam. Welcome to the Italy Garden restaurant. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.

“Umm, yes. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for a dinner meeting with Mr. Jay Park,” I replied anxiously, trying hard to hide how nervous I truly was.

The five-star dining facility was way out of my league and price range. I had never been in a place so upscale and fancy. There were scores of expensive-looking pictures hanging on the walls and exquisite artifacts and statues in and around the corners.

I followed the host to a luxurious VIP balcony area where Jay Park was already seated and waiting for me.

"You look amazing, Ms. Y/L/N," he said, flashing that billion-dollar smile that made me want to melt right where I stood.

"Thank you," I replied shyly, returning a smile his way.

The host pulled out my chair, and I sat down.

"I've taken the liberty to order us a bottle of the finest champagne this place has to offer,” he told me with a grin. “What are you in the mood for?”

I couldn't pronounce a single dish on the menu.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I said softly, closing my menu and setting it to the side. I didn't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of our waiter.

"This champagne is delightful," I exclaimed before taking another sip.

"Only the best for a woman as perfect as you, Y/N," Jay stated sweetly.

It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name. I could feel my cheeks reddening as I smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"So where are the rest of the meeting attendees?” I asked inquisitively as I glanced around the area we were seated in.

"This meeting is just for you and me, Y/N," Jay said in a sultry tone of voice. "There's something about you, Y/N, that drives me crazy. Ever since you walked into my office, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

I felt the same way about him. He was definitely the most attractive, magnetic, and alluring man I had ever met. I was just too shy to tell him so.

Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food was delicious, and I'd probably had a bit more champagne than I'd actually intended to drink. After a perfect meal, Jay led me back out to the limousine, and we both got into the backseat.

As we talked about our backgrounds, childhoods, and future plans while drinking top shelf champagne, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't even asked him where we were headed. Before I could even form the words to inquire, the limo slowed to a stop.

"Where are we?" I asked, just as the chauffeur opened the door.

“My place,” Jay replied with a grin. “I hope that's okay with you. There's something I want to show you."

Normally, I would have thought twice about going to the home of a man I'd just met, but there was just something about Jay that made him all but irresistible to me.

His house was beyond magnificent. The outside of it took up damned-near an entire city block, and the front yard stretched out around the sides of the house. There was a huge, circular, paved driveway at the front, and the limo had stopped directly in the middle.

I couldn't even imagine what it was he wanted to show me. I felt both excited and anxious simultaneously.

Taking my hand inside his, he proceeded to lead me through his humongous residence, showing me all of the different paintings and other extraordinary decor and informing me of the countries from which they'd been ordered. Finally, we came to this nice, dimly lit room with a beautiful faux fireplace against the rear wall. My eyes widened in amazement as we entered the romantic-looking space hand-in-hand.

"Wowww!" I exclaimed, as I had done several hundred times since we'd first gotten out of the limo. "This room is so..."

“Enchanting? ”Jay stated in a questioning tone, finishing my exclamation for me.

"Yeah! Definitely!” I agreed as I looked around in bewilderment.

There was a bar counter in the far left area of the room and what appeared to be a fully-stocked mini bar behind it. A lavish-looking cream-colored sectional sofa was in the middle of the space, facing the fireplace, and there was a huge matching rug laid out in front of it.

Just as I was about to remove my shoes out of respect for the rug, the lights suddenly dimmed lower, and about a hundred faux candles all lit up simultaneously. Also, smooth, relaxing, slow music immediately began to play. The candlelight appeared to dance to the beat of the music.

I was totally speechless and utterly astonished. I had never seen anything like it before. I glanced over at Jay, who had already removed his own shoes and was filling two wine glasses at the built-in mini bar.

"Please, have a seat, Y/N,” he said amorously, nodding toward the sectional.

I sat down and continued to enjoy the ambiance of the supremely romantic setting until he soon came over to join me and placed a glass of champagne in my hand.

"So? Do you like it?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink.

"Like it? This is absolutely amazing!" I said with a huge grin.

"I'm glad you think so. I've never brought any woman into this room until tonight.

"I find that extremely hard to believe,” I said honestly."

I may be a lot of things, Y/N, but I am definitely not a liar,” he asserted. “Men like me don't have to be in order to get what we want."

“Now that, I absolutely do believe,” I replied with a grin. “So, what is it that you want with me? ”

"Ahh, the billion-dollar question," he said sultrily.

Just then, a very popular song began to play.

"Ohh, I love this song!" he said excitedly as he stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I didn't refuse. He pulled me upward and into his strong arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his as we swayed to the music. Caught up in the moment, I felt like I could stay in his arms like that forever.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away for a moment and looked deep into my eyes.

“Y/N, you have it all. I adore your womanly physique, your stunningly bright brown eyes, and the fact that you are a very intelligent young woman. You are damned-near flawless. From the very first moment you walked into my office, I have had an undeniable, overwhelming attraction to you, and I know you feel it too."

I was completely speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? How do you even reply to a statement like that?

In all honesty, I was just as attracted to him as he was to me, but with him being both my boss and such a wealthy, sophisticated man, I think I felt a little bit intimidated. I'd never imagined myself being wined and dined with a billionaire Adonis like him.

I just kind of stood there, gazing into his tantalizing eyes like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

"Y/N,” he whispered as he suddenly spun me around so that he was behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered back to him as the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of my neck instantly made me moist between my thighs.

I moaned as his soft lips brushed against the lobe of my him,. My body was instantaneously on fire for him and he had barely touched me.

"I want you," he whispered as his manly hands found my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my cocktail dress.

The tips of his fingers found my nipples, causing another moan to escape my mouth. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and then suddenly, my dress slid carelessly to the floor. I was braless, and this seemed to turn Jay on even more.

He groaned as I felt his manhood begin to stiffen against my ass.

"Y/N, you're fucking perfect,” he said gruffly, his voice raspy against my ear. “I want you. And you want me, too, don't you?

"Yes, Jay, yes," I moaned.

His hands squeezed my breasts, and I sighed loudly, arching my back. I felt his stiffening cock twitch in his pants.

"I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger, Y/N. I've been looking for the right woman to bear my offspring, and you are the perfect specimen. I know you probably walked into the Park building today with your own plans and aspirations for your career and whatnot, but I have to be honest with you; I want you to bear my children.”

It was a lot to take in. He had certainly said a mouthful. I wasn't so sure about having kids with a man I'd just met, but he was definitely different from any other man I'd ever met, and odds were that I'd probably never meet anyone quite like him again.

His right hand slid down my midsection and into the front of my satin pants. I hissed with delight, biting down on my lip to stifle my cry of pleasure. He was applying just the right amount of pressure to my bud, and I was grinding my crotch against his hand.

"Don't hold back, Y/N,” he ordered in a breathy voice. “Let it all out!”

With that, he slid two fingers inside my dripping-wet pussy. I thrust my hips forward and let out a cry.

“Fuck, your pussy is already so wet for me! ”He declared with a grunt, pressing his erection against my ass.

Just as I was about to climax, he stopped, pulled his fingers out of my pants, and turned me around to face him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked my excitement out of them. My face flushed with need.

Then he pushed me down onto my knees as he undid his pants, releasing his stiff, throbbing cock. It was large—larger than I'd expected. It was definitely the biggest dick I'd ever seen in my twenty-four years on this earth. But I didn't care. I was going to try my damnedest to swallow it whole.

I caressed the shaft as I slid my tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing it gently, and then sliding it down into my mouth as far as it would go. I sucked it slowly and easily at first, and then I took my hand and used it with the rhythm of my mouth, sucking it as hard and fast as I could.

Groans fell from Jay's lips as he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth. Then suddenly, he stopped me.

Easing the rest of the way out of his pants, he pulled me up toward him again and kissed me passionately, using his tongue to invade my mouth hungrily. I moaned as he began to trail his lips and tongue down my neck, pausing to lick, suck, and fondle both of my breasts, and then continuing down my belly until he reached the top of my pants.

With his teeth, he worked my pants down over my hips and buttocks, letting them drop to the floor near my dress. He parted my thighs slightly, using his fingers to slide my folds apart and massage my bud. Then, his lips replaced his fingers against my moist, pulsating pussy, and I cried out in sheer passion.

He was so skilled and talented—his tongue was like a fucking vibrating sex toy! He grabbed and squeezed my ass with one hand and used the other to slide two fingers back inside my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore!

"Fucckkk, I'm going to cum, Jay! I'm going to cum...so...fucking..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. His fingers pressed against my g-spot, and his tongue darted fast and hard against my pussy, sending me completely over the edge with the most powerful, intense, earth-shattering orgasm I had ever experienced.

My entire body shuddered and shook, and my legs tensed up. I grabbed his head as my crotch jerked forward uncontrollably against his face.

"Shiiiiittt! Oh fuuuuck!" I screamed loudly, unable to speak any other words.

When my climax finally began to wane, just as I was about to catch my breath, Jay suddenly lifted my legs up on his shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the soft, cream-colored rug lying me down on my back.

Not wasting a second, he slid his huge, hard cock into me slowly, with my legs still hoisted up on his shoulders.

I moaned long and hard as he stretched me to my limit, sliding deeper into my pussy than any other man had ever been.

“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy's so tight and wet! ," he exclaimed, moaning as he began to thrust in and out of me, going deeper with every stroke.

I was moaning so loudly that I could barely even hear the music playing anymore. His own groans became louder and longer with every thrust of his burly hips.

I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck as he started fucking me harder and faster. It wasn't long before I felt a second orgasm building, getting closer and closer...

I still wasn't exactly certain about letting him impregnate me and make me the mother of his children, but the sex was fucking earth-shattering. I had never been fucked so good before! I felt his huge, stiff cock plunging in and out of me as I cried out in delirious pleasure.

Just as I was about to scream out loud, having reached my second powerful orgasm, he let out a loud, long groan, and I knew he was there, too. We were climaxing together simultaneously, and for a brief moment, it was like the two of us became one in our own world of bliss.

I felt his cock spurting his hot cum deep inside of me, filling my pussy to the brim, but it felt so fucking wonderful that I didn't give a shit. Besides, he was rich and handsome and could fuck like a damn machine.

As we finally came back to our senses, Jay kissed my lips as he slid out of me and plopped down on the rug beside me. The fake fire was still going, and the lights and music were still playing.

"That was, by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life,” I said breathily as I looked over at him.

"Me too," he said sultrily as he slid his arm beneath my neck.

With that, his eyes closed, as did mine, and we both drifted off into a satisfied slumber.

Jay and I continued to fuck like rabbits over the next few weeks, having hot, steamy, amazing sex every chance we got. And every time he came, he shot his hot cum deep inside of me.

Three weeks later, my pregnancy test came back positive. Jay was ecstatic, of course. At first, I had mixed emotions. I was going to become a mother. Was I really ready?

He immediately made me quit my job and put me in a beautiful condo with a view that overlooked the entire city. He found me the best doctors in the area and accompanied me to all of my prenatal appointments.

So I wouldn't be able to work for a while. I mean, babies don't stay babies. They eventually grow up into adults who can take care of themselves. Who knows? Once I've raised my kids, perhaps I'll still want to go back into the workforce.

For now, though, I think I'll just enjoy swelling with Jay's seed, growing rounder and riper by the day.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Cocktails

"Cocktail," like many words, has evolved over time, broadening its meaning.

While it once indicated a narrow range of drinks—perhaps originally a single drink—it is now customarily used to cover nearly the full range of mixed drinks available in the bars of the world.

Purists may insist that a true cocktail include at least 3 ingredients, two of which are distilled liquor and bitters. Others may argue that any drink mixed on the spot from two or more ingredients, at least one of which is alcoholic, is a cocktail.

The first known references to drinks called cocktails come from the late 18th and early 19th centuries. At that time, alcoholic beverages were largely served in inns and public houses, and weary travelers and thirsty locals would order concoctions.

LONG DRINKS

Also known as tall drinks, are simply drinks in tall glasses with larger amounts of mixer than short drinks.

Some, like highballs, are simple and straightforward; others are complex concoctions.

What they have in common is a relaxed quality, in that they present a relatively low concentration of alcohol and, often, an easy-drinking accessibility.

SHORT DRINKS

A drink served in a tumbler or old-fashioned glass.

Since they contain a higher concentration of alcohol than long drinks, they tend to be built more for slow, deliberate sipping—but there are no hard and fast rules here.

UP DRINKS

The classic image of a cocktail: shaken or stirred with ice and served, almost always strained, in a cocktail glass.

The most elegant of the cocktails, and not only because of their presentation.

Subtle or intense, austere or rich, they tend to have distinct personalities.

SHOTS & SHOOTERS

The most recreational of cocktails.

Despite their popular image, most of them are actually rather low in alcohol; the danger of shots lies in the temptation to drink too many, too quickly. Given how delicious many of them are, that can be all too easy to do.

HOT & FROZEN DRINKS

Hot cocktails have a long history, having been used for centuries to warm chilled travelers and bar customers.

Frozen cocktails are a more recent development, but they offer a bracing kind of refreshment that is perfect for steamy summer evenings.

Some Cocktails

Classic Cocktails

Some drinks have become timeless, iconic libations of cocktail culture:

THE MARTINI Despite a myriad of variations since its first appearance in the nineteenth century, the classic Martini remains the quintessential elegant cocktail: a cool, somewhat austere drink, not showy, but certainly powerful.

THE MANHATTAN The richness and power of whiskey gives the Manhattan slightly rougher edges than the Martini. It gained prominence in the 1930s as one of the five Borough cocktails of New York.

THE OLD FASHIONED Long before Don Draper of Mad Men revived interest in this classic, adding bitters and sugar to whiskey was a mainstay of cocktail culture and one of the most basic drink preparations.

THE DAIQUIRI The classic rum cocktail, the Daiquiri was a favorite of Ernest Hemingway and John F. Kennedy, and has spawned a host of variations.

Seasonal Drinks

Though most cocktails inhabit the perpetual season known as cocktail hour, many capture—or help create—the distinct mood of each quarter of the year.

SPRING & SUMMER Light, refreshing cocktails dominate the spring. Consider such classics as slings, smashes, lemonade drinks, and colorful coolers. Go-to cocktail: a French 75 Summer is, of course, the season for clear and tropical cocktails. Fresh fruit fills the market stands, the sun pours down through long days, and a cold, sweet-and-tart drink is what you crave. While you could always go for a Gin and Tonic, for a bit more personality try one of the great Caribbean drinks—a classic Daiquiri will keep you cool.

FALL & WINTER As Keats put it, autumn is the “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,” and that vibe is what you’ll want in a cocktail. Deeper, richer drinks come to the fore. Any drink involving apple juice or apple brandy chimes with sentimental visions of autumn. Go-to cocktail: a Sidecar. When winter comes, linger over an Irish Coffee or Hot Toddy; or brace yourself against the cold with a potent whiskey drink—stay toasty warm with an Old Fashioned.

Champagne Cocktails

Occupy a distinct niche in cocktail culture.

At once colorful and elegant, festive and intimate, they lend themselves not only to romantic settings but also to expensive parties.

Source: The Ultimate Cocktail Encyclopedia by Walter Burns More Writing References: Wine-tasting ⚜ Drunkenness ⚜ Drinking

[adoresia]

𐙚 ˚ CHAPTER 6 : Shattered ornaments

Sia here ! : can you guys see its KINDA starting to get better (kinda) next chapter makes it better okay guys trust trust 🙏🏾 Yuji was just feeling a little silly today. Tbh I’d push it to why is she gatekeeping spit it out bru.

Word count : 1.9k

Taglist : @fushiguruuzzzz @mystic-megumi @aldebrana @anotherwriternamedclara @tlissablr @2dmenfr @academiq @vmpky @lizbix @blubearxy @ashlvss @madison777x @rreveurdoll @q2uq2u @moonchhu

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series masterlist / jjk m.list

The snow fell heavier tonight, thick flakes clinging to the frozen windowpanes and painting the world outside in shades of white and gray. The wind howled low, rattling the loose edges of your dorm’s single-paned window as if demanding to be let inside. It carried the bitter, biting cold of winter with it, the kind that seeped through even the smallest cracks, finding its way into the room and clinging to your skin.

Your dorm felt colder than usual, the kind of cold that wasn’t just physical but dug deeper into your bones and into your chest. You hadn’t bothered to turn the heater up, hadn’t bothered to do much of anything. You just lay there, sprawled on your bed, one arm draped across your forehead, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Everything felt distant, muffled, like the world had wrapped itself in layers of fog. The laughter and chaos from your last few days with Yuji and the others replayed faintly in your mind, a cruel reminder of something you knew you didn’t deserve. The hoard of teddy bears Yuji had won for you at the Christmas market sat abandoned on the floor, its soft brown fur catching faint light from the desk lamp. Your phone, too, was somewhere nearby—buzzing intermittently with messages you refused to check.

You turned your head toward the window, watching as the snow swirled and danced in the dim light of the streetlamp below. Even the snow seemed freer than you, weightless and drifting aimlessly, while you lay trapped in your own thoughts. The storm outside matched the one churning in your chest, heavy and relentless.

Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you take the good moments—the laughs, the warmth, Yuji’s persistent kindness—and let them stay good? Why did you always find a way to ruin it?

Your fingers curled into the blanket beneath you, and you shut your eyes tightly, trying to block out the images that wouldn’t stop playing in your head. Nobara’s loud teasing, Maki’s dry smirks, Panda’s ridiculous jokes. And Yuji—always Yuji. His bright grin, his easy laughter, the way he always seemed to find his way back to you no matter how many times you tried to push him away.

You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve him.

The snowstorm picked up, the wind slamming against the window with a force that made the glass shiver. The rattling brought you back, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. You blinked, your gaze shifting toward the soft, persistent glow of your phone lighting up on the bedside table. For a moment, you didn’t move. You stared at it like it might bite you. But when the screen lit up again, brighter against the dim room, curiosity—or maybe guilt—got the better of you. You reached for it with a trembling hand.

His words were simple. No demands. No guilt-tripping. Just him, asking you to show up. You stared at the screen for what felt like hours, the snowstorm outside a distant roar in your ears. It would be so easy to ignore it. To turn your phone off and sink back into the nothingness of your room.

But something stopped you.

Maybe it was the way Yuji’s last message lingered, the ellipsis at the end holding more weight than the words themselves. Or maybe it was the faint warmth in your chest, the one you tried so hard to suppress every time you thought of him.

There was a message.

The snow followed you all the way to Yuji’s dorm room, clinging to your coat and hair like a stubborn shadow. The warm light spilling from the windows should’ve been comforting, but it only made you hesitate, your hand pausing on the door handle. Inside, you could hear muffled voices, laughter, teasing, the occasional crash of something hitting the floor. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to push the door open. The room was a flurry of activity. Nobara was yelling at Panda for eating half the snacks, Maki was stringing up lights with her usual air of efficiency, and Megumi was—well, standing in the corner looking like he wanted to disappear.

When Yuji spotted you, his entire face lit up. “Y/n! You came!” You nodded stiffly, avoiding his gaze as you stepped inside. “Yeah. I’m here.” Yuji wasted no time pulling you further into the chaos, his grin never faltering. “We’re just getting started! Here, you can sit by the tree if you want. Or help untangle these lights. Or—”

“Yuji,” you interrupted, your voice quieter than you intended. “I’m fine. Just… point me to something small.”

He hesitated for a moment, then handed you a box of ornaments. “Here. These should be easy.” You took them, sitting down near the tree as the others continued their decorating frenzy. For a while, it was… okay. The room was warm, the faint smell of cinnamon wafting from somewhere in the kitchen. Nobara’s voice carried over the hum of holiday music, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it.

You’d been hesitant to come, your feet dragging the whole way here despite Yuji’s messages. Even standing on the doorstep, hand poised to knock, you’d almost turned back. But now, surrounded by the glow of string lights and the comforting chaos of the group, you found yourself… relaxing. Just a little.

Nobara had suddenly pulled you into the fray, handing you a tangled string of lights with a dramatic groan. “Bro look what they’ve done to these? It’s like they’ve never seen a storage box before.”

Maki snorted from where she was arranging garlands along the staircase railing. “Maybe if someone didn’t throw them in the box last year like they were trash—”

“Don’t start,” Nobara shot back, glaring over her shoulder.

Despite yourself, you let out a quiet laugh, untangling the lights with careful hands. Yuji, ever the optimist, was balancing on a chair nearby, sticking ornaments onto the tree with little regard for symmetry. “Does this look okay?” he called out, holding up a lopsided star.

“It looks terrible,” Panda replied bluntly, his voice muffled through a mouthful of cookies.

“You’re supposed to help, not judge!” Yuji protested, nearly wobbling off the chair as he reached for another branch.

You watched the exchange, a small smile tugging at your lips. It felt… good. Being here, surrounded by all of them. Like the weight that had been pressing against your chest for weeks had finally eased, just a little. You found yourself gravitating toward Yuji as the evening went on, whether it was because of his infectious energy or the way he always seemed to include you in the smallest moments.

“Hey,” he said, nudging your shoulder as you helped him string the lights around the tree. “I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah,” you replied softly, focusing on looping the cord over a branch. “Me too.”

His grin widened, his eyes warm and full of something you couldn’t quite name. It made your chest ache in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Across the room, Nobara was attempting to hang mistletoe from the ceiling, yelling at Panda to hold the ladder steady. Maki sighed in exasperation, muttering something about just doing it herself, while Megumi sat on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. The warmth of the room seeped into your skin, chasing away the lingering chill that had followed you from your dorm. For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself enjoy it. As the tree started to take shape, covered in mismatched ornaments and haphazard strings of lights, the conversation turned playful.

“Okay guys, best holiday movie—go,” Yuji said, spinning around to face everyone.

“Die Hard,” Maki said immediately.

“We’re not doing this again.” Panda groaned.

“It’s not even a Christmas movie Maki” Nobara argued, throwing a handful of tinsel at Maki’s head.

“Yes it is. You guys are just lame.” Maki countered, catching the tinsel effortlessly.

You found yourself laughing again, the sound surprising even you. Yuji glanced at you, his grin widening. “What about you, y/n?” he asked.

“Um…” You thought for a moment. “Home Alone, probably.”

“Omg that’s my favourite too,” Yuji said approvingly.

“Predictable,” Nobara teased, tossing tinsel at you this time.

The lighthearted teasing continued, the tension that had followed you for days melting away with every laugh and smile. You were hanging another ornament, a small glass one shaped like a snowflake, when Yuji spoke. “Hey, Y/n,” he said softly, his voice lower than before. “Can I ask you something?” You hesitated, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his expression unreadable. “Sure,” you said cautiously.

“Are you okay?”

Your stomach twisted, the snowflake ornament slipping slightly in your hand. You set it down carefully, not trusting yourself to speak. “You’ve just been… different lately,” Yuji continued, his voice gentle but insistent. “And I know you said not to bring it up, but—”

“Then why are you bringing it up?” you interrupted, turning to face him fully.

Yuji frowned. “Because I’m worried about you. We all are.”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, too quickly.

“No, you’re not,” Yuji said, stepping closer. “Y/n, you don’t have to keep everything bottled up. We’re your friends—we want to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” you snapped, the warmth you’d felt earlier replaced by a familiar chill.

Yuji’s brow furrowed, hurt flickering across his face. “Why won’t you just let us in?”

“Because it’s easier this way!” you said, your voice rising. The room grew quiet, the others turning to look. Yuji shook his head, frustration clear in his voice. “Easier for who? Not for us, Y/n. Not for me.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“I care,” Yuji said quietly, his voice trembling slightly, “because you deserve to feel wanted. Even if you don’t believe it right now.”

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the chest, stealing the air from your lungs. For a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

You swallowed hard, your jaw tightening as you forced the knot in your chest down. “Just stop, Yuji,” you said, your voice sharp but unsteady. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you shook your head, cutting him off before he could. “Just… drop it.”

Turning your back on him, you walked back toward the others, where Nobara was still arguing with Maki about the merits of Die Hard as a Christmas movie. You slid into the conversation like nothing had happened, picking up a stray garland and tossing it over Panda’s head with a faint smirk. The laughter from the group bubbled up again, filling the room with warmth and ease. You laughed too, letting their playful energy sweep you up, pushing the conversation with Yuji far to the back of your mind.

But Yuji didn’t move.

He stayed where he was, standing silently by the half-decorated tree, his hands clenched at his sides as he stared after you. The hurt in his eyes was impossible to miss, even if you never turned around to see it.

Also guys just wanted to say every typo you see here or in any other chapter isn’t on purpose, my spelling is genuinly terrible 😢. “SFIP” and “DORRY” yep that was me and I never realise until the chapter is actually posted 😞. Apologies 😅🙏🏾

[vhstown]

'til the breath returns

— hobie brown x gn!reader (dissociation comfort)

summary: It's hard to stay in your own body sometimes. At least Hobie's right there with you.

warnings: v self-indulgent (so may not be a very accurate depiction of dissociation erm...), dissociation / derealisation / depersonalisation (those terms are distinct but just in case :p), anxious behaviour, hurt/comfort-ish, hobie is trying his best? (he's not ur therapist but it's okay) & not proofread

word count: 1.9k

a/n: been struggling to get out of a dp/dr funk recently so. here we are! no gif lemme keep this one on the down-low fr 😭 img is of camden town from pinterest

🕸️📞🎸

"Hello? Hello...?"

The muscles in your shoulders tightened at the sound of the voice, obscurely louder than anything else around you — around you being the market, that was. Just how long had you been here?

You felt a burning ache in your eyes as you looked around, taking in the blur around you before meeting the expression of the man in front of you. The owner of the food truck, of course. He had an impatient look on his face, but it was too much detail to be anxious about.

"Sorry, uh..." you offered quietly, cut off by another loud voice behind you.

"Just hurry up and pay, mate! We haven't got all day!"

Your jaw tensed, crunching uncomfortably as you fumbled for something in your pockets. Trying to find cash of some sort, the world became still again, and you could barely register what they were saying before you put whatever you could find on the window sill of the truck.

Something that sounded unpleasant, another shout, maybe, followed behind you as you walked out into the open pavements of the market. Your hands felt funny, breath dry and head heavy and so light at the same time. It felt like you were floating, but also sinking so deep under water you were moving slow motion against the thick water. It was somewhat comforting, that image.

Maybe you should just sit down, let yourself fall backwards and sink. Maybe you'd wake up in bed, and fully be able to open your own eyes again. When was the last time you could do that? When was the last time you woke up? This morning, surely. It seemed so far away; maybe you should walk home, find home — it was somewhere near here. Where were you walking?

Why was the ground getting so close to your face—

"Hey, hey! Oi!"

Before your weight could fall forward anymore, you felt a hand move around your stomach. Tongue stinging too, you realise you'd bitten it. The urgent touch became more gentle, as the haste wore off and you were helped to your feet. You tried to pick up the sounds to form a "thank you", but all you could do was stare strangely as you met a face you could just about recognise.

"Don't mean to scare you, darling."

It was your boyfriend, is what you told yourself. Hobie.

"Didn't get your change..." He held out the coins in his hand, some of which were probably already yours . "And you're trippin' over yourself."

It would sound too weird if you tried to laugh, so you didn't bother.

"My bad, just out of it." Right, is what he must've thought.

"Been out of it for a while, huh?" He taps your cheek twice, bringing your attention to him. You hadn't realised you'd been staring dead straight into his chest — not anywhere near his face. "Your patty's all squashed, love."

His fingers moved gently between yours, prying the poor warm paper from your hand. The patty you had bought had started to singe the tips of your fingers, and the tips of your fingers had already broken apart the bread of the patty.

You didn't have much will to complain, but the corners of Hobie's mouth turned down in a frown. He took your hand, the pad of histhumb brushing the lingering heat off of your fingers

"What's going on? You hungry? Tired? Upset...?" All you could give him was a useless shrug — it'd probably be easier to fix if you could describe it; if only. "Hm..."

The back of his hand was cold against your forehead. Or maybe you were cold; he never really got cold after all.

"You wanna go home?"

"Hm?" you murmured, Hobie observing you. You weren't supposed to go home; you'd get over it. Fresh air and a walk was supposed to help, anyway — not like it was. "Thought you wanted to stay."

"We can always come back another time. You don't look like you're enjoying yourself."

His hand moved to your shoulder, brushing his lips over your forehead. It was definitely you that was cold.

"I think you should have my patty, too," he added, placing his in your hand.

Arm moving fully around your shoulder, the two of you started to walk back.

"It'll be warm out, soon," Hobie comments, as if trying to be inconspicuous. He pulls you closer to mams for a lady walking her dogs: little white lap dogs that turned their heads to look at you, or maybe Hobie. You tried to remember if the last time you saw them was today or last week.

"Ah, yeah..." you said, realising he was waiting for you to say something — something of more substance, probably.

"Sure bloody hope so," he continued, something like humour in his voice. "Been freezing my bum off for the past month."

Your steps felt big against the ground, like the ground was pushing back up, and you were going to float away if Hobie let you go. All you could do was just hope he didn't.

"It better not rain, though. I'll go mad if it does. Nothing's good in the rain, 'specially not food. Meant to have a street party soon."

Remembering the patty in your hand, you took a bite before Hobie had to remind you. It was veg — not beef like he'd usually have. In fact, he complained about the veg usually. Still, today, he'd wanted a veg patty. You held onto that fact like it was the first thing you'd ever been told, as you walked together.

As he continued talking, you had reached the riverside. It looked onwards to the canal, the water coloured by the orange sun. Everything always looked so different on the way back; the air was still, and it was evening by now.

"Mine or yours?" Hobie asks, as you reach the by-street.

"Mine, if you come with me."

"I ain't gonna leave you behind, or nothin'."

He cracks a smile, and you reach for his hand time time as you took the turn to your home. There were shops that passed by, but you didn't pay enough attention to figure out what they were.

And you weren't sure when you ended up in bed, probably after making conversation for a bit and changing, because you were now in your own bed, arms and legs and Hobie's chest encasing you in a relaxed hug. You were wearing a shirt that fit weirdly on you. It was likely his — the one shirt he had without lint on it. His head wasn't entirely on your shoulder, but he was close enough to press a kiss to your temple — it left a warm, tingling feeling, as did the rest of his weight against you.

"Is there something wrong specifically?" he asks, voice a quiet, smooth vibration next to you.

"Dunno, I just... feel weird. Mentally, I mean," you admit, turning your head to lean it against his. "I think this is helping, though."

"Yeah? You want me to do anything else?" You just wanted to keep yourself awake; you wanted to keep hearing his voice.

"Want to hear you talk more."

"As long as you talk as well." Your quiet sigh was audible enough to him, it seemed. "C'mon love, you've gotta talk, or you'll be stuck up there forever."

With your demeanor seeming to give up with you, he pressed another kiss to your face, near the corner of your mouth this time. It usually got a smile out of you, but you didn't know if you had the energy to. He lingered there, still.

"How about we start with right now?" he muttered, hand on your shoulder. "You gonna tell me about those new decorations in your room? Or all those new clothes in your closet? Or how your bathroom doesn't have the nice-tasting toothpaste anymore?"

"Hobie... What the hell..." You frowned. And then the smallest laugh escaped out of you, because you frowned, and then he laughed, because it was all he really needed.

"I'm serious, though. Let's start from the top?"

"Like... from when I was born?" That got a laugh out of him, thankfully. Your smile, though little, didn't seem to disappear just yet.

"Well, if you want," he replied, pulling his arms tighter around your sides. "I was thinking more like, this morning?"

This morning... A little worry creeped inside your stomach as you came to face how little you could really recount right now. The light brush of Hobie's thumb against your cheek kept you at bay, however, and you took in a deep breath.

"Well, today... we went to the market together," you started, taking his hand from your shoulder and holding it in your own. You toyed idly with his fingers, thumb brushing over his rings as your mind fell into blankness again.

"And it rained all morning," Hobie said, after a beat of silence, fingers gently squeezing yours.

"And... this little kid slipped in the mud," you murmured.

"Ah, he did. Rough, weren't it?"

"Mhm," you replied, and at the silence, you tried to continue. "Poor thing. His dad looked horrified."

The quiet chuckle against your back made your words seem somewhat more trustworthy, and you finally decided to just let yourself speak, about anything that came to mind.

"...And then we went to look at clothes. None of them were your size."

"Couldn't believe it..." Hobie commented, murmuring.

"And then we... got lost for a bit. Ended up in this shop that sold china."

"Oh yeah, there were those funny bird-lookin' ones."

"And then we walked around for a bit..."

Truthfully, he wasn't sure if it was actually helping or not, but at the very least, that fuzzy look in your eyes that scared him a bit had eased

"And now we're home," you concluded, and he kissed the side of your head as if to confirm.

"Yep. Where are we?" The question was pretty straightforward, but you took the chance to answer regardless.

"In my room... On my bed." The mattress creaked just a little as you readjusted your position, moving closer against him. "And I'm still with you."

"Uh-huh. Still here."

"It's getting dark out, though." Looking out at the dimming sky through your window, you took another breath in, not as deep as you would've liked.

"I can stay," Hobie reassured. His voice gave no reason for you to doubt it.

"Could you?"

"A hundred percent. Not a second I don't wanna spend with you."

Hobie brushed his nose against yours, before pressing a momentary kiss to your lips.

"Look," he started, voice low and soft, slightly more serious. "I'm not exactly sure how to help, but whatever you need, I'll be here."

Turning to face him again, you returned his kiss, holding it a little longer to feel the warmth of his lips against yours. Hobie held you like you were the world, and everything in it; if you didn't need to, at least you wanted to.

"Can we just keep talking?" Your voice sounded different, but not strange — a bit less tense, more certain.

"We can talk about anything you want; we've got all night."

You narrowed your eyes in thought for a moment, and he looked at you as if he already knew what you were thinking.

"...Could you scratch my back too?"

Hobie grinned, and so warmly — so easily. You felt a smile tug at your lips too, breath sinking back into your chest and the ever-present weight starting to lift from your body.

"Yeah, sweetheart — of course. Want me to switch the light off?"

You decided to nod, saving your words for when you finally laid in the darkness, curled up against him. Murmuring soft, yet sure words between each other, his fingers grazed your back in a gentle back-and-forth, and as your voice faded, he pressed another kiss to your forehead, pulling you further into him and the covers.

Breath quiet and even, you inevitably drifted into sleep. His hand was still on your back, feeling each breath of yours as it came and went, like the shore lapping against the land. And he'd breathe right with you, even when you couldn't hear him — even if he'd have to do it all over again tomorrow.

Always, he promised himself, and you. Always, until your breath returned — until you returned.

🕸️📞🎸

thank you for reading urrrr never written a comfort fic before n ik this is kind of diff but hopefully some of my usual stuff soon 🙏

rbs appreciated if u liked it, atsv masterlist here!

@phoenixinthefiles @qiupachups

[quintessenceofdust88]

Tease (Tid)bit Tuesday

I was tagged by my darlings @typicalopposite @bidisasterevankinard and @laundryandtaxesworld, and I decided to post a little more of Nonna Rosa meeting Buck cause I love how it's coming off! Hope you guys had a lovely Tuesday and that you like it! ♥

“Maybe I will, Nonna”, Tommy says, a wistful look in his eye as he looks at the forest landscape and the other painting. Buck is already low-key planning to find the best art supplies stores in LA and surprising Tommy with a kit of brushes and oil paints, maybe one of those fancy little holding things he’s always seen at cartoons, and a painting coat (although he’d rather have Tommy painting shirtless, but that’s not a vision he wants to dwell on in front of his boyfriend’s grandmother).

“That’s a good boy”, Nonna says, her voice filled with pride, and then she looks critically at the bags still on his hand. “Now off you go, take these bags to the bedroom before our merenda runs cold, hm?”

“Sí, Nonna” Tommy easily agrees, kissing Buck’s cheek as he passes by him towards a dark wooden door, that from what Buck can see leads to a hallway where the bedrooms probably are. 

“Do you need some help, babe?” Buck asks, the pet name slipping out before he can stop himself, but Nonna doesn’t even bat an eye, she just smiles cheekily at him, playing with the tip of her braid. 

“Oh, Evanino, I’m sure Thomas will be very glad to show you the bedroom, but later, hm? I just said I don’t want the food getting cold”, she says with a wink, and both Tommy and Buck are left spluttering, blushed to the tip of their ears. 

“Dío, Nonna, you can’t say things like that, you’ll scare him off!”, Tommy says grumpily, sounding just like an embarrassed teenager as he rushes towards the hallway, grumbling under his breath. 

“Non-sense, Tommaso, he’s a firefighter. It takes a lot more than a mouthy old lady to scare you, doesn’t it, Evanino?” She pokes his arm, and Buck can’t help but laugh, nodding at her. “Now come, it’s time for you to meet the heart of any house”

“The kitchen, right?” Buck asks, and Nonna smiles, clapping her hands together.

“Sí, la cucina! Did Thomas teach you that?” She asks curiously, and Buck shakes his head, a small smile showing up on his face. 

“Actually, my captain, Bobby. He’s recently moved, and he kept telling us that a house had to be chosen by the kitchen, cause that’s where the heart of the house beats” Buck tells her, and Nonna nods approvingly.

“Ah, a wise man! I like him already!” She exclaims, and then motions Buck with her hands. “Now, follow me before my cake burns in the oven, hm?”

Buck follows Nonna through a worn white door. If the rest of the house looks well-loved, the kitchen brings it up to eleven. The floor is made of honest-to-God white and black checkered tiles, something Buck has only seen in cartoon kitchens, and they match perfectly to the light yellow walls. The walls here are cleaner than in the living room: Buck can only see one painting: a replica of The Last Supper (and he’s pretty sure Tommy’s not the artist of that one) placed over a wooden table, covered in a flowered tablecloth. 

On the opposite wall, he can see a black-and-white wedding portrait that looks at least fifty years old. It shows a young woman with a scrunchy smile and a man who looks so much like Tommy that Buck’s heart skips a beat, the resemblance almost jarring. Near an old cuckoo clock, there’s also a calendar hanging on the wall, its date marked in red and an image of a saint peeking from the top.

The counters, however, are a completely different story. Most of their surfaces are covered by small vases containing herbs that make the kitchen smell like a farm market, and Buck couldn’t name even half of them. Most of them are crammed in the counter closest to the large wooden-paneled window, but the rest of the surfaces are covered in jars, pots and pans, put together in a chaotic way that, somehow, looks like it follows its own system. Closer to the sink, where there’s a clean space lightly dusted with flour, Buck can see a mushroom-printed glass jar holding at least a dozen wooden spoons, and proudly displayed beside it, a rolling pin that looks a hundred years old. 

The gas-burning stove is painted red, though its side is chipped, and the light blue fridge hums loudly in the corner, its surface a mosaic of photographs. Most are of people—friends, family, loved ones—and Buck’s chest tightens when he spots a photo of himself and Tommy, taken just a few weeks ago, placed proudly at eye level. The sight warms him in a way he wasn’t expecting. It’s so different from the spotless, minimalist kitchen his mother kept—so far from his own, with its modern appliances and practical, clean-cut utensils. Nonna’s kitchen looks old, and messy, and lived-in.

And Buck loves every inch of it.

Np tagging @weewookinard @perfectlysunny02 @littlepaws9 @silversky9 @mmso-notlikethat @30somethingautisticteacher and whoever else would like to join! ♥

[estellan0vella]

Love In Print│Bang Chan

Chapter One: Satan And His Hellhound SS: 9 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 2.7K Content Warnings:

Previous Next Masterlist

The tension in the Levanter-Miroh Publishing office is so thick it might as well be listed as an official department. Two years post-merger, the open-plan layout still feels like a no-man's-land, with the remnants of Levanter's creativity-first chaos clashing violently against Miroh's sterile, data-driven efficiency.

Somewhere in the middle of this battlefield, Ayame and Chan continue their daily war, a slow-burning feud that keeps the office on edge and entertained.

Ayame strides through the building, the click of her stiletto heels echoing against the polished tile floors. Her light blue mini skirt swishes with every purposeful step, the fitted corset-waist blouse tucked just enough to appease HR.

She sips her coffee and catches up to Nari near the elevators. Nari, ever the image of poised chaos, juggles her phone, a tablet, and the sheer weight of dealing with Kang Haechul and his corporate minions. 

"Morning, Ayame," Nari says, barely glancing up from her phone.

"Morning," Ayame hands her a sleek folder, one corner decorated with a small smiley face sticker she slapped on last minute. "Here's the pitch for that YA series I mentioned. It's fucking gold. I'd bet my coffee budget it'll trend for years."

Nari flips through the file, her lips twitching in approval. "Has Kang Haechul seen this?"

Ayame raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching with a dry smirk. "I sent it to the dementor, sorry, I mean Chan, so I assume so. But if it has even a drop of creativity, I doubt it'll survive his soulless, corporate vacuum."

Nari lets out a low chuckle as they step into the elevator. "Quarterlies?"

"Lower than projected, but not a disaster," Ayame replies, leaning against the wall and crossing her ankles. "Better than Q2, at least. I already talked to marketing about alternative print strategies to cut costs without touching the quality. Sent you a breakdown this morning. Oh, and I emailed about the team-building event I'm planning."

Nari pauses mid-scroll, looking up from her phone with a sceptical arch of her brow. "Team-building? You? I thought you'd rather eat glass."

"Rusty nails, actually," Ayame corrects, smirking. "But Minho's drowning in complaints, and HR's been a shitshow since the merger. Figured I'd throw them a bone before they all quit."

As if summoned by her words, Seungmin appears just outside the elevator as the doors slide open. He steps in, sharp in his suit, holding a stack of perfectly aligned documents. His expression is neutral, but his tone is dripping with quiet amusement. "Half of those complaints are about you and corporate stick-up-the-ass."

"Morning to you too, sunshine," Ayame replies sweetly, rolling her eyes.

Nari shakes her head, grinning. "Oh, Ayame, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Be stuck with Satan and his hellhound," Ayame quips, nodding toward Chan and Kang Haechul, who are making their way across the lobby. Chan is in his usual sharp suit, his perfectly styled hair somehow looking both effortless and infuriating. His gaze is piercing, clipboard in hand like a weapon of mass destruction.

Seungmin mutters, just loud enough for Ayame to hear, "Pretty sure Satan and his hellhound would be less of a pain in the ass."

Ayame smirks. "Exactly."

As they part ways, Ayame makes her way toward her desk, only to be intercepted by Hyunjin, who's rushing toward her like a man on the verge of collapse. His tie is crooked, his shirt slightly untucked, and his expression is nothing short of desperate.

"Ayame, please, I need a favour," he blurts, running a hand through his already messy hair.

Ayame groans, holding up her coffee like a shield. "What now, Hyunjin?"

He exhales dramatically, pacing in front of her. "Okay, so, my new puppy, his name is Tofu, by the way, he got into the peanut butter last night, and, uh, well, he fucking exploded. Shit everywhere. I'm talking walls, furniture, my expensive rug-"

"Jesus Christ, Hyunjin." Ayame cuts him off, holding up a hand. "What is it you want from me?"

"I need an extension on the monthly report," he says quickly, clasping his hands together like he's praying. "Just a couple of days. I swear I'll have it done by Wednesday."

Ayame takes a slow sip of her coffee, staring him down. "You'll have it Monday. Wednesday at the absolute fucking latest, or I swear to god I'll make you clean the conference room after next week's catered lunch."

Hyunjin's face lights up like she's just saved him from certain death. "Thank you! You're a fucking angel."

"I'm a fucking sucker," she mutters as she brushes past him, heading for the meeting room with a tray of cupcakes she brought for the morning meeting.

Just as she reaches the doorway, she's blocked by Chan, who leans against the frame with his arms crossed and that damned clipboard clutched like it's part of his anatomy. His dark eyes flick to the cupcakes, then back to her, the faintest trace of a smirk playing on his lips.

"That was pathetic," he says, jerking his chin toward Hyunjin. "You could just tell him to do his fucking job, but no, you have to play saviour."

Ayame snorts, brushing past him without missing a beat. "Being a saviour is better than being a corporate dick-sucking yes-man."

"Interesting philosophy," Chan calls after her, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Inside the meeting room, the atmosphere immediately shifts as Ayame sets down the tray of cupcakes. Minho, seated at the head of the table, grabs two before anyone else can move.

"God bless you, Ayame," he declares, unwrapping a cupcake like it's Christmas morning. "Honestly, this is the only reason I come to these fucking meetings."

Ayame smirks, folding her arms as she leans against the table. "Don't stuff your face yet. We're supposed to at least pretend to talk about quarterlies first."

"I can multitask," Minho says around a mouthful of frosting.

Ayame slides into her chair between Seungmin and Seonghwa, expertly balancing her oversized coffee mug in one hand and a battered notebook in the other. The chair creaks slightly as she settles in, crossing her legs and shooting a quick glance around the table. Seungmin is leaning back like he doesn't give a single fuck about being here, casually scrolling through his phone, while Seonghwa greets her with a bright smile, his ever-present aura of calm cutting through the simmering tension in the room.

"You know," Seonghwa begins, his voice low and conspiratorial, "I watched this insane documentary last night. It was about the history of baking."

Ayame raises a brow, intrigued despite herself. "Was it good, or was it just weird enough to hold your attention?"

Seonghwa shrugs, his smile widening. "A little of both. Did you know Da Vinci invented the blender?"

Ayame snorts, nearly spilling her coffee. "Are you serious? That's what he spent his time on? Art, science, and fucking smoothie-making?"

Jisung, sitting across the table, immediately jumps into the conversation like he's been waiting for his cue. "Speaking of inventions, I've got something revolutionary: the pizza plate."

Ayame squints at him, her laughter tapering off as she processes his words. "The what?"

"The pizza plate!" Jisung exclaims, clearly proud of himself. "It's a second pizza you put under your first pizza to catch the crumbs. Genius, right?"

Minho groans from the end of the table, dragging a hand down his face like he's suddenly aged ten years. "No one fucking cares, Jisung. Literally no one. Please, for the love of god, stop."

Jisung smirks, undeterred. "You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."

Minho doesn't even look up, waving him off like he's swatting at a particularly annoying fly. "I'd rather think of literally anything else. Like how to end my suffering in this goddamn meeting."

Seonghwa leans toward Ayame, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Do they ever stop arguing?"

Ayame sips her coffee, her tone light but laced with exasperation. "Never. It's like breathing to them."

Before Seonghwa can reply, Chan's voice cuts through the room like a fucking guillotine. "Alright. Can we please get started, or do you all need another minute to play kindergarten?"

The table falls silent, though Ayame, Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Minho simultaneously mouth the word dementor. Ayame bites down on her lip to keep from laughing outright, her eyes darting to Chan, who looks like he's five seconds away from snapping his clipboard in half.

"We're good to go," Ayame says sweetly, turning to Chan with a saccharine smile that's practically dripping with fake innocence. "But you? Your tie's crooked."

Chan frowns, glancing down at his tie, his expression shifting from confusion to realization as he catches her smirk. His tie is, of course, perfectly straight. He looks back at her, dark eyes narrowing dangerously as Ayame sips her coffee, her smile widening.

Before he can respond, Nari steps into the room, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown timer. Kang Haechul follows closely behind, his posture rigid and his face locked in its usual mask of condescension.

"Alright, everyone," Nari says, her voice calm but commanding as she takes her spot at the head of the table. "Let's try to keep this short. Haechul and I have an announcement to make."

The room collectively stiffens, the air practically crackling with unease. Ayame leans back in her chair, notebook in hand, her pen poised but motionless.

"We're adding a new position to the team," Nari continues, glancing briefly at Haechul before pressing on. "A managing director role."

Haechul nods, clasping his hands behind his back like a fucking monarch addressing his subjects. "He will oversee all departments and report directly to me."

Ayame's brows shoot up at the pointed emphasis on he, and she isn't the only one who notices. Eyes dart around the table, and the tension thickens.

Nari's polite smile tightens, though her voice remains steady. "He or she will report to both of us," she clarifies smoothly, though the strain in her tone is impossible to miss.

Haechul doesn't flinch, merely inclining his head as though the correction doesn't bother him in the slightest. "Of course. The job will be open to external applicants, but I'd like to prioritize hiring from within."

The subtle glance he throws at Chan doesn't go unnoticed, and the room shifts again, silent but charged. Ayame watches Chan out of the corner of her eye. He looks composed as ever, his expression unreadable, but there's a tension in his shoulders that only someone who's worked alongside him this long would notice.

Ayame leans back in her chair, tapping her pen against her notebook. "Interesting," she mutters, her voice just loud enough for Seungmin to hear.

Nari clears her throat, clearly sensing the unease. "To ensure fairness, we'll be assembling an independent panel since Haechul and I don't always see eye to eye on things."

Haechul's mouth twitches, his attempt at a neutral expression barely holding. "The final candidates will present their strategies to the board after the New Year. May the best man win."

Ayame's jaw tightens at the deliberate phrasing. "Man," she mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes. "How fucking progressive."

Seungmin snorts beside her, his voice low. "Careful, Ayame. Your sarcasm's showing."

She doesn't bother replying, leaning forward instead to jot something in her notebook. Chan catches the movement, his gaze flicking to her with the faintest hint of curiosity, but she doesn't meet his eyes.

Nari steps in again, her tone firm but measured. "Let's stay focused on the task at hand. This is an important step for the company, and we'll need everyone's cooperation to make it successful."

Haechul nods, his gaze lingering on Chan like a fucking spotlight. "Exactly. Cooperation."

Ayame fights the urge to roll her eyes again, settling instead for a long sip of coffee. Beside her, Seonghwa leans closer, whispering, "This is going to be a fucking disaster."

Ayame sighs, her voice dry. "When isn't it?"

The meeting ends in a shuffle of murmurs, forced goodbyes, and the obnoxious screech of chairs dragged across the floor. Ayame barely lets the echo die before she gathers her notebook and empty coffee mug, making a beeline for the kitchenette like it's a lifeboat in the middle of a shipwreck. The room is blissfully quiet, save for the low hum of the coffee machine, and she takes a deep breath, relishing the rare moment of peace as she rummages through the cabinet for a tea bag.

Her peace lasts all of forty-five seconds.

The door swings open, and she knows who it is before she even turns around. That insufferable clack of dress shoes on the tile, deliberate but unhurried. Bang fucking Chan.

He strides in like he owns the place, leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed over his perfectly tailored suit. His dark eyes lock on her like a predator sizing up prey. "You know the job's mine, shortcake."

Ayame doesn't even flinch, too focused on pouring hot water into her mug. She hums noncommittally, not sparing him a glance. "Cute. When I'm your boss, I'll make it a requirement that you have to do everything with a smile."

Chan lets out a low snort, tilting his head. "A smile?"

"Yeah," she says, finally looking up, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "It's this thing where the muscles in your face move to react to positive things. You should try it sometime. It might help you seem... less like a soulless corporate dick."

He smirks, sharp and cutting. "You've never smiled at me."

She lifts her mug to her lips, her own smile threatening to betray her composure. "Make of that what you will."

His eyes narrow, his smirk not faltering. "Enlighten me," he says, leaning in slightly. "Why won't I get the job, huh?"

Ayame sets her mug down on the counter with an audible clink, crossing her arms as she leans back against the counter to face him fully. "Because you're the most hated man in this office."

Chan laughs at that, a low, deliberate sound that's equal parts condescending and amused. "Oh no, shortcake. No one hates me. They fear me, which is what makes me so fucking good at my job."

Ayame raises an eyebrow, tilting her head. "Fear doesn't make you effective, Chan. It makes you a pain in the ass."

He steps closer, the faint scent of his cologne cutting through the lingering smell of coffee. His smirk deepens as he lowers his voice. "And yet, here I am. The most effective pain in the ass you've ever met."

Ayame rolls her eyes, scooping up her mug and pushing off the counter. "Congrats on the self-awareness, Captain Obvious."

She starts toward the elevator, but she can hear the inevitable click of his shoes behind her. Of course he follows. His insufferable confidence radiates off him like heat, practically filling the space as they step into the elevator together. The doors slide shut with a soft ding, trapping them in yet another standoff.

Chan leans casually against the elevator wall, his gaze sliding toward her as he takes a slow sip from his coffee. "When I'm your boss," he says lazily, "I'm implementing a dress code. No more dressing like that."

Ayame freezes mid-sip, her mug halfway to her lips. She turns her head slowly, narrowing her eyes. "Like what?"

He gestures vaguely toward her outfit, his smirk unwavering. "Like... that. The mini skirts, the corset blouses, the whole look. It's distracting."

Her laugh is sharp, biting, like the snap of a whip. "Distracting? From what? Your spreadsheets? Grow the fuck up, Chan."

He shrugs, taking another sip of coffee like she hasn't just insulted his entire existence. "Just calling it like I see it."

She sets her mug down on the elevator railing, facing him fully now. "Let me tell you something. When I'm your boss, I'm enforcing casual Fridays. No suits allowed. Hell, no ties allowed. And for the record, if you get that job, I'll fucking resign."

Chan raises an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something closer to amusement. "Oh, you will, huh?"

"Absolutely," she replies, her voice light but her words firm. "Just like you will if I get it."

His chuckle is low, almost inaudible, as he leans back against the wall. "I don't quit, shortcake."

She picks up her mug, her lips curving into a wicked grin as she sips her tea. "Oh, but I could fire you."

Chan laughs outright at that, a deep, rumbling sound that makes the elevator feel ten degrees warmer. "You'd have to beat me first. And we both know that's not happening."

Ayame tilts her head, her eyes sparkling with mock innocence. "I'm getting the distinct impression that's not the first time you've said that to a woman in your thirty-something years on this planet."

His smirk falters just slightly before returning full force. "Touché."

The elevator dings as it reaches their floor, the doors sliding open. Ayame steps out first, her heels clicking against the tile. She glances over her shoulder, her tone smug as she says, "So, we agree? If one of us gets the job, the other has to quit."

Chan follows her out, his pace deliberately matching hers. He considers her words for a moment before nodding, his smirk turning downright devious. "Fine. Agreed."

"Good," she says, turning away with a satisfied grin. "You're going to look adorable when I'm your boss."

Chan laughs under his breath, shaking his head as they reach their shared office. He pauses at the door, watching her with a look that's equal parts amused and competitive. "This war's gonna be fun."

Ayame doesn't look back, but her smirk is visible in her voice as she replies, "For me, at least."

Taglist: @fackeraccount @ot8girlfie @nightmarenyxx @reimaybeidk

@ismelllikechlorine247 @drewsandsebastianswife @my-neurodivergent-world

[thefrogman]

Recently I took a panorama of the Pittsburgh skyline at night that got a positive response. That was done on the spur of the moment with an iPhone. I want to do that again and more, but this time with a dedicated camera setup. It's been years since I've had one, so I'm basically starting over again. I'm mostly interested in getting day and night cityscapes, and maybe the carryings-on at this year's Anthrocon. Would you have any particular knowledge to pass on as I set off on this journey?

Since you didn't specify a budget I'm going to assume it is in the $10K range.

And you're probably thinking I'm going to suggest a Leica. Every dentist and his brother (who is also a dentist) gets a Leica. But I just can't take a camera brand seriously when they charge you an extra $2200 for the privilege of not being able to shoot in color.

Sure, you can hit a single button in Lightroom to get B&W and save some money, but then you won't be able to brag about how limiting yourself to only shades of gray has opened up new artistic pathways in your brain while a clueless person responds in mumbles during their root canal.

What you really want for your landscapes is a Hassie.

They were the first camera on the moon! How could you *not* want a Hasselblad? That is some camera gorgeousness right there. And it's so reasonably priced*!

*compared to their previous $40,000 camera systems.

And if you are doing landscapes with the Hassie you'll need a nice wide angle lens to go with it. This one is actually quite affordable*!

*compared to their previous $8000 lenses.

Can we all agree that is a work of art? They even use their H logo as the knurling.

That is just so... extra. And I love it.

Out of the entire alphabet I've heard Hs give you the best grip.

Man, I almost wish I was a dentist just so I could buy a fancy camera.

Sorry... I was just having a little fun.

I never get to recommend the super cool expensive cameras. Because, ya know, the economy and the fact that only dentists have Hasselblad money.

You probably think I'm being silly but there actually is an entire community of dentist photographers keeping the high end camera market alive.

Okay, let's get started...

Landscape Buying Guide

Opening Thoughts

For landscapes I would highly suggest a full frame camera and a high quality wide angle lens.

Full frame has several advantages but it is not necessary. You can go with a smaller sensor like APS-C and get great images. Personally I would not go any smaller, but there have been some great landscapes taken on micro 4/3 and even smartphones. Technique, knowledge, experience, and composition will usually win the day over a camera, but having a nice camera makes things a lot easier.

At this point, with full frame options being very affordable now, the main reason to get a smaller sensor is if you want a smaller system that is easier to carry for extended periods and easier to pack when traveling. Or if you aren't sure you want to take on photography as a hobby, you can get an old APS-C DSLR for under $200 to learn with and test out.

So if you need a very cheap OR very compact system, APS-C and Micro 4/3 might be worth considering, but a bigger sensor will cause less frustration most of the time.

Froggie Note: The expensive Micro 4/3 and APS-C systems are the compact ones. The cheap systems are about as bulky as full frame.

The biggest advantages to full frame are low light shooting, lens selection, and field of view. Full frame cameras have many, many more lenses to choose from. And since the sensor is bigger, it is much easier to get a wider field of view that is often needed for landscapes. And the high ISO noise performance tends to be better on full frame.

However, you can use full frame lenses on APS-C camera bodies within the same ecosystem. They just get a little... zoomier. Roughly 1.5x zoomier. A 35mm acts like a 50mm, for example. So if you want to spend a little less now you can get an APS-C camera with a full frame lens and then upgrade to full frame later on without having to buy a new lens. Full frame lenses work on APS-C bodies but not the other way around.

Most landscapists have a really solid 16-35mm lens and that covers almost all of their needs. So I would suggest something comparable. Please don't get suckered into some crazy 18-300mm superzoom. Just get the focal range you need for the photos you want to achieve.

A purpose-built lens always outperforms one that was made to do everything.

As far as where to get used gear, I highly recommend using KEH or MPB when buying used camera bodies. They check every device and offer between 3 and 6 months warranty to make sure the device won't crap out on you. Lenses are typically a lot more robust and a safer thing to buy on eBay or Facebook Marketplace if you can find a better deal. But the security of having a warranty and a return apparatus if something goes wrong might be worth the extra price when using these two sites.

I am going to recommend Canon, Nikon, and Sony systems. I feel they have the most complete ecosystems with gear that spans all budget ranges. I'm not saying there aren't good cameras from other brands, but you have to remember every camera has an ecosystem surrounding it. There are accessories and upgrade paths and niche lenses that may not be available with other brands. I think Fuji has some tempting options and if you like the look of vintage film photography, their emulation options are quite stunning. Their cameras are also quite attractive and have very satisfying knobs. But I still can't recommend them unless you have a specific reason for wanting their gear.

Just remember that for every Canon DSLR I recommend there is a comparable Nikon option available as well. There are more lenses for a Canon full frame DSLR body than any other brand with Nikon coming in a close second.

So if you choose not to go mirrorless yet, the Canon and Nikon DSLR camera ecosystems are immense and have tons of gear and accessories available to go with them. And since used gear holds up really well, those ecosystems will survive for decades.

Should you buy a mirrorless camera or a DSLR?

Mirrorless cameras are the latest camera technology for interchangeable lens camera systems. At this point they are superior in every aspect and they continue to improve year by year. Because of that, used DSLRs have plummeted in price. This allows people greater access to a starter ILC (interchangeable lens camera) without a significant investment. You can get professional quality images on either format, but mirrorless has a shallower learning curve and much better automatic modes.

The in-body image stabilization (IBIS) stabilizes *every* lens and the eye tracking autofocus make "focus and re-compose" extinct. These are huge selling points for a lot of people. With IBIS you can take photos with up to 2-4 second shutter speeds without a tripod. And never missing focus on a human or animal or bird is pretty cool too.

DSLR camera bodies are no longer being designed by most of the major manufacturers. Thankfully Canon and Nikon developed plenty of bodies and lenses, so you will always have options and upgrade paths. But you will not be able to upgrade to systems with the latest advanced features.

The best DSLRs available are probably the Nikon D850 and the Canon 5D Mark IV. That is as good as it will ever get. The technology ends there. So if you want to enter an active camera ecosystem then you will have to get a mirrorless camera.

DSLR Camera Systems

Full Frame DSLR Camera Bodies

Canon

If you buy a used DSLR, there are some very affordable full frame options. In fact, the classic much-praised budget full frame Canon 6D can be had for under $300 right now.

This is an old camera. It has no fancy features. It only has 20 megapixels. It just does what it says on the tin. But it has a big sensor and a *ton* of really cool lenses available for it.

If you are specifically looking to create really high resolution panos, you could also look at the 50 megapixel 5DS R for around $1000.

There is a community of landscape pano-maniacs that love to create "gigapans" that have endless amounts of detail where you can zoom in and find new details in every photo. I was only able to create a 120 megapixel photo, but you can still find things like people starting a campfire and a dude fishing and a truck on a far off bridge. So even though this seems expensive for a DSLR, you are looking at another thousand bucks to find anything with more megapixels than this bad boy, so it is quite a good deal relatively speaking.

Nikon

Probably the best DSLRs ever made were the Nikon D800 series and you can get the Nikon D800 for $464.

This is a newer camera than the 6D with more megapixels (36) and a better sensor. It also has a more modern autofocus system and about 3 more stops of dynamic range which can come in handy for landscapes. This is an incredible camera for this price.

APS-C DSLR Camera Bodies

If you aren't sure you want to commit to this hobby, you can look into a Canon APS-C sensor body like the Canon Rebels and Canon 60D through 90D models and get good results.

And there are many Nikon DX APS-C bodies that would be great starter cameras as well. If you get a Nikon, you'd have an upgrade path to the D800 if you get hooked by the photography bug. I would miss a few very special Canon lenses like the 100mm f/2.8L macro and the 400mm f/5.6 telephoto but I'm sure I could figure out some reasonable Nikon alternatives that would do roughly the same thing.

Canon APS-C

There is a Canon 60D for $139 right now that would be perfectly adequate for landscape work on a tripod.

That was my first camera and I took some very nice photos with it. Only 18 megapixels but it has a very convenient flippy screen which was really helpful for a disabled photographer trying to get low angles.

This was in 2014 and I didn't know what I was doing but that is a pretty stellar-looking sunset for a (now) $140 camera.

Nikon APS-C

And the Nikon D3400 would be a great option as well at around $184.

You get some extra megapixels (24) and it is a bit newer than the Canon. I get the sense that used Nikon DSLRs give you more value for your money right now but I don't have a large enough sample size to confirm that.

Full Frame DSLR Lenses

Froggie Note: I am recommending full frame lenses even if you choose an APS-C DSLR body so you have an upgrade path. But also very few purpose-built APS-C lenses had superior glass. Just remember, crop sensor APS-C cameras add ~1.5x to your focal length. So a 16-35mm will have the equivalent field of view of a 24-50mm lens. Still quite acceptable for landscapes, but you may benefit from doing panoramas more often. And if you upgrade to full frame down the road, you'll already have the ideal lens.

Canon DSLR Lenses

If you get the 6D or another Canon you could pair it with the beloved-by-landscapists Canon 16-35mm f/4L.

Honestly, it is blowing my mind you can get that combo for under $600. Me from 12 years ago is super jealous right now.

If you are worried you might need something to work in lower light and still want a zoom, the f/2.8L starts at around $434.

This might be the most famous landscape lens of all time. Kinda boggles the mind how many gorgeous vistas this thing has captured the light of.

If you can live without the zoom, you could get a much sharper prime lens that can also be used in even lower light. A used Sigma 24mm f/1.4 Art lens is $439 would be a fantastic option.

24mm is still a very good focal length for landscapes and the sharpness of this lens lends well to panoramic stitches. Seriously, these art lens are so freaking sharp. Although 35mm is typically preferred for most street photography, I think this would do great for that purpose as well. It couldn't do close up portraits, but 3/4 and full body portraits would look great. I also love this focal length for doggos. It enlarges their heads a bit which enhances adorable-ness.

Though I probably wouldn't recommend the 24mm on APS-C for landscapes as it would put you near a 40mm full frame equivalent field of view.

Nikon DSLR Lenses

And on the Nikon side of things you could get the Nikkor 16-35mm f/4 for $399.

This is a great lens too. Very comparable to the Canon L glass. And paired with that D800 you would have a better shooting experience than with the 6D if it fits within your budget.

It's a little harder to find, but you can also get that same Sigma 24mm f/1.4 Art lens for Nikon at around $528 used on Amazon and in the $400 range on KEH and MPB when it is available.

The older and softer Nikkor 28mm f/1.8 is a little more affordable and easier to find.

What if you are not a dentist but are willing to save up for something a little nicer?

Enter the world of...

Mirrorless Camera Systems

Sony currently has my favorite ecosystem of mirrorless cameras and lenses and they are consistently ahead of the other brands as far as technology and features. In fact, many other manufacturers use Sony sensors. They literally supply their competition with their own tech. They are also pretty good about updating firmware—even with older models. So I feel like Sony has a lot of future-proofing advantages over other brands. Sony has a great selection of 3rd party lenses like Sigma, Tamron, Viltrox, Laowa, Samyang, etc. These lenses often have nearly the same optical quality as Sony's G Master lenses at a fraction of the price.

Full Frame Mirrorless

Currently, I think the best value full frame mirrorless camera for landscapes would be the Sony a7R III.

This is very nearly a top-of-the-line landscape camera for a little over $1200.

That might sound like a lot, but I want to be clear...

This isn't just decent. This isn't "good enough." This is a spectacular professional grade full frame camera.

10 years ago you could spend $6500 for a *worse* camera. 5 years ago you could spend $3000 for a *worse* camera.

It can do every genre of photography except for maybe fast paced sports/action. It has an amazing 42 megapixels—which are not necessary but they do make editing and printing a lot less of a headache. The file sizes can get a little big, but storage is a lot cheaper than it used to be.

Oh, and it can be used for professional quality 4K video work too.

The a7R III comes with all of the modern bells and whistles including in-body stabilization (IBIS) so you can handhold at very slow shutter speeds. It has one of the best autofocus systems—complete with eye tracking. But not just human eyes! Dog eyes. Cat eyes. Bird eyes. If it has an eye, the Sony can probably lock focus on it. And it has an admirable 10 fps burst shooting mode.

APS-C Mirrorless

If you want to enter the Sony ecosystem but can't afford full frame quite yet, you could do the a6400 for about $600.

You still get the eye-tracking and the in-body stabilization, but you will lose some image quality at higher ISOs due to the smaller sensor size. However, you can get the same full frame E-mount lenses for it and upgrade to a bigger sensor later on and not have to buy new lenses.

Mirrorless Landscape Lenses

I think a good value landscape lens would be the very impressive Tamron 20-40mm f/2.8.

This is a newer lens so there aren't many deals on used options yet. But this is still a great price for the quality and versatility you get. You will never regret spending a little more on glass.

The 20mm range can fit an entire cityscape in the frame without needing to do a panorama. But if you zoom to 40mm and mount the camera vertically, you could stitch together several photos to get well over the 100 megapixel range.

Also, the 40mm focal range is long enough to do street photography and even head & shoulder portraits. The wide f/2.8 aperture combined with the high-ISO friendly full frame sensor and in-body stabilization means you can shoot in very low light without a tripod. You can also get some great pictures of stars if you travel to someplace with minimal light pollution.

The cheapest landscape zoom lens I could find was the Sony 16-35mm f/4 at $384.

It's one of Sony's older lenses and may not take advantage of all of the a7R III's pixels, but it would be a good option to get you started in this system and upgrade the lens later on.

Mirrorless Prime Lenses

Zoom lenses are great but you have to spend more to get tolerable quality. Kit zooms can be softer than even the tiny plastic lenses on your phone. So a great way to stretch your budget is to get multiple fixed focal length "prime" lenses. Primes can be built inexpensively while still having good low light performance and decent sharpness.

For instance, you could start with something like the Tamron 20mm f/2.8 for $175. And if you want to do more than landscapes you could add the Sony 50mm f/1.8 for $170 later on. Cheap primes will outperform any of those mediocre kit zoom lenses in that same price range. You lose some versatility and have to deal with the pain of changing lenses or zooming with your feet, but sometimes a tight budget demands a little pain.

There is also a higher quality 3rd party wide angle prime lens that is very popular right now. The Viltrox 16mm f/1.8 is only $549 and the reviews say it has similar quality to lenses 3 times its price.

If you have to choose between a better camera body or a better lens, a good lens will help your photos more than a fancy camera body.

Froggie Note: These are examples. You should always do your own research before making a major technological purchase. This post could be a year old by the time you see it and there could be new stuff that is better. But all of the principles I tried to convey should hopefully guide you to a good decision. Also, feel free to message me if you want to ask about specific gear you are considering purchasing.

More Resources

This is my Encyclopedia of Lens Terms which is a helpful primer in understanding all of the wonderful and different lens options available on ILCs.

This is my buying guide for low budget used DSLRs. Similar to this post but less geared toward landscapes.

And this guide for getting decent landscape photos with any camera.

This is a free tutorial that teaches you everything you need to get started with an ILC system.

And this free tutorial by Karl Taylor is quite good as well.

[dr-hanwool]

the regular

Timeline: 2024 November 2nd, Saturday, late night. Location: The Playroom, Bangkok. Mood: Excited to see his obsession Rain again Attire: See this post. Man is HANDSOMEEEEE! With: @poorlboy Music: Easy by Jaehyun, which is playing low in the background of The Playroom

It was another warm night in Bangkok when Kim Han-wool made his way down the dark streets to the destination he had had in mind for hours. His surgery was open at reduced hours on the weekend, but he had to stay over time tonight since there were an influx of patients today. As soon as Hanwool finished signing off on the final prescription of the evening, he closed up shop and headed on home to his condo, wanting to shower and get ready for the next - and more exciting part - of the night.

The Playroom had been an area he frequented now that he was living in Bangkok. In his previous visits, he never dreamed of entering such a place. His strict upbringing and no-nonsense attitude would never have allowed him to set foot in an escort establishment, or even call for one to entertain him for the night. But after having permanently relocated, it was time for a change. The old him died alongside his first love, for whom he still grieved over.

Bangkok was a fresh start, in so many ways. By day, his practice was booming. There were many Koreans living in Thailand, a few who were still settling into the country, so they were thankful to be able to speak in their native tongue when it came to their medical problems, which could be difficult to translate into Thai.

By night however, Hanwool would explore the city he loved on his visits here throughout his life. He went to the night markets, talked to strangers, visited bars and clubs - all things he should have done in his twenties, back when he was young, that he never allowed himself to do.

The Playroom would not have been his choice of club, if Hanwool was being honest with himself. He'd never have thought about it at all, if it weren't for a fleeting image he saw, of a man who looked far too familiar entering through the double doors. Hanwool had been like a man compelled, following the stranger into the establishment. He had no idea what he had walked into, eyes widening at the decor, the place almost menacing with its dim lighting and obviously adult theme - but he had to see the man again, no matter what.

He resembled Yeong too much...

Since that day, Hanwool had become a regular at The Playroom - but only for him. Sometimes he'd visit once a week; other times, when he was busy, it would be less frequent. Sometimes he'd come alone; sometimes he'd come with friends. But the one constant in his experience at the establishment was the escort whose name typed into the online booking slip, the autofill doing its technological magic to make sure the name RAIN stared back at him through his phone screen.

When Hanwool entered the club, he was greeted warmly by the man he knew now as the manager. He didn't need to be read the rules, or told where to go. A simple nod of his head, indicating that his booking had been received, was the only communication needed before Hanwool wandered over to the red and black booths. He slipped inside, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, allowing himself to relax. He waited for his escort, trying not to obviously glance around for the man, his fingers drumming on the table in anticipation.

[galaxysupreme17]

Specter in the Night (part 2 of 2)

Y/n = Your Name

AgathaRio x daughter!reader!

The night was eerily still, the usual hum of Westview's nocturnal life unnaturally muted. In their cozy home, Y/n sat at the kitchen table, flipping through one of Agatha's spellbooks under the soft glow of the overhead light. The day's warmth at the market felt like a distant memory, replaced by an unsettling chill that had settled over them since Magnus's sudden reappearance.

Rio entered the kitchen, her sharp features softened by concern as she poured herself a cup of tea. "You okay, cariño?"

Y/n nodded slowly but didn't look up from the book. "Just... trying to understand why he was so interested in me. And what he meant by 'what I'm capable of.'" She glanced at Rio, her dark eyes clouded with questions. "Do you think he's going to come back?"

Rio placed her mug on the table and sat beside Y/n. "I don't think. I know." Her voice was steady, her resolve unshakable. "But if he does, we'll be ready."

A loud crash shattered the moment. Both women shot to their feet, the sound reverberating through the house.

"Agatha?" Rio called out, her voice tight with urgency.

Y/n followed as Rio bolted toward the source of the noise: the study. The door was ajar, and the usual organized chaos had been replaced with a strange, suffocating silence. Books were scattered across the floor, papers fluttering as if caught in an invisible wind.

In the center of the room stood an ornate, full-length mirror that hadn't been there before. Its frame gleamed with dark, twisted metal, and runes etched along its edges glowed faintly.

"Mama?" Y/n called out, stepping closer to the mirror.

Her reflection stared back at her, but something was off. The surface of the glass shimmered, rippling like water. And then Y/n saw her. Agatha's face appeared in the mirror, her hands pressed against the other side of the glass, her mouth moving soundlessly as she pounded against the barrier.

"Agatha!" Rio shouted, rushing forward, but she stopped short as a forcefield crackled to life around the mirror, sparking with dark magic.

Y/n's breath hitched as Agatha's panicked eyes locked onto hers. "She's trapped," Y/n whispered, her voice trembling.

Rio's fists clenched, her jaw tight. "It's him. Magnus."

As if summoned by his name, the shadows in the room deepened, pooling together until they formed the specter himself. Magnus stepped forward, his figure half-solid, half-ethereal, his dark eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

"Rio, Y/n," he drawled, his voice smooth and mocking. "I see you've found my little gift."

"Let her go," Rio demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

Magnus tilted his head, a mocking smile on his lips. "Oh, but why would I do that? Agatha and I have unfinished business. I thought I'd take her somewhere... reflective. Let her think about her choices."

Y/n's heart pounded as she stepped before Rio, her voice sharp. "What do you want?"

Magnus's eyes narrowed as he regarded her. "You, little one, are full of potential. So much untapped magic. It's almost a shame to leave it unclaimed." His gaze flicked to Rio. "But your mother would rather keep you hidden, untrained, unprepared. How selfish."

"Enough," Rio growled, stepping in front of Y/n. "You want to settle something. You settle it with me."

Magnus smirked. "Oh, I intend to. But first..." He gestured toward the mirror, and Agatha's image flickered, her form fading in and out. "Let's see how far you will go for her."

Without thinking, Y/n raised her hands, magic crackling at her fingertips. "Let. Her. Go!" She hurled a bolt of energy at Magnus, but it passed through him harmlessly, dissipating in the air.

He laughed, the sound echoing unnaturally. "Fiery, indeed. But reckless."

Before he could retaliate, Rio lunged, grabbing a nearby artifact—a dagger imbued with protective magic—and swiped it through Magnus's form. The specter recoiled, momentarily destabilized, but his dark energy coalesced again almost instantly.

"Y/n, the mirror!" Rio shouted.

Y/n turned her focus to the enchanted mirror, her mind racing. She could feel the dark magic pulsing from it, like a heartbeat. If she could disrupt the spell...

She approached cautiously, her hands hovering over the frame, the runes glowing brighter as she drew near. But as soon as her fingers brushed the surface, a surge of energy knocked her backward.

"Y/n!" Agatha's faint but audible voice rang out, her reflection clearer now. "Don't touch it—it's booby-trapped!"

Y/n scrambled to her feet, determination burning in her chest. "Then how do I break it?"

Agatha's reflection looked to Rio. "The artifact—the one on the mantle. Use it to dispel the runes!"

Rio didn't hesitate. She dashed to the fireplace, grabbing a small, glowing orb. She returned to Y/n's side, holding the orb aloft.

"Cover me," Rio said firmly.

Y/n nodded, stepping between Rio and Magnus, who was already reforming. She threw up a shield, her magic crackling as she blocked his attempts to reach them.

"Impressive," Magnus said, his voice laced with disdain. "But you're out of your depth, child."

Y/n gritted her teeth, holding her ground as Rio chanted a spell rapidly. The orb glowed brighter, and the runes around the mirror began to dim.

Magnus snarled, his form shifting as he lunged toward Y/n. She ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding his attack, but her shield faltered.

"Hold on, Y/n!" Rio shouted, her voice strained as she poured energy into the orb.

Just as Magnus prepared to strike again, a burst of light erupted from the mirror. Agatha's reflection shattered into fragments, and in an instant, she was there—whole, alive, and furious.

"Enough!" Agatha's voice boomed as she raised her hands, casting a protective barrier around Y/n and Rio. The magic surged outward, forcing Magnus to retreat with a guttural growl.

"You'll regret this," he hissed before vanishing into the shadows.

The room fell silent, the tension finally breaking as Agatha collapsed into Rio's arms.

Y/n rushed to their side, her eyes wide with relief. "Mom... are you okay?"

Agatha nodded weakly, brushing a strand of hair from Y/n's face. "Thanks to you two."

Rio held Agatha tightly, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "We're not letting him take you. Ever."

Agatha smiled faintly, her strength returning. "And I'm not letting him take us. Not now, not ever."

That night, the three of them curled together in the living room, too shaken to retreat to their separate spaces. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting warm light over their huddled forms.

Y/n lay with her head on Agatha's lap, her mother's fingers gently combing through her curls. Rio sat beside them, her arm draped protectively around Agatha's shoulders.

"You were brave today," Agatha said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "Both of you."

Rio smirked, leaning her head against Agatha's. "We're a package deal. You knew that."

Y/n turned her head slightly to look up at them. "Do you think he'll come back?"

Agatha's hand stilled for a moment before she resumed stroking Y/n's hair. "If he does, we'll be ready. We've faced worse and come out stronger. Together."

Rio reached over, squeezing Y/n's hand. "And if he so much as thinks about trying to hurt you again, he'll have to answer to us."

A soft smile tugged at Y/n's lips. "I love you guys."

Agatha leaned down, pressing a kiss to Y/n's forehead. "We love you more."

They stayed like that for hours, sharing memories and quiet reassurances, drawing strength from the unbreakable bond they had built. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they knew they would face them as a family—united, unwavering, and unafraid.

[iblameashley]

Market Mingle and *Tea*lights.

Civilian | Male | Gay

2,593 words

Content: None really. Pure fluff.

Follow up to The Gift of Giving.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley | Male/GN Reader

!!!SFW!!!

You happen to run into Simon at the local market and take the opportunity to spend some time with him shopping. Who can resist a little mingling and maybe a spot of tea after?

(Tea-lights is a stupid play on Delights...)

(Special shout-out to @mysticalzombiecheesecake who asked to be tagged.)

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

What better way to spend your day than outside and at the local market? It was a little later in the day than you expected, but sleeping in is also nice. You were lucky to have a remote job and generally didn't have to deal with office life. This afforded you a lot of leeway when it came to work-life balance, but nothing was better than actual time off to get out and do things for yourself.

The market itself was a great place. Vendors were always swapping out and there were a variety of trinkets, tools, clothing, food and more up for barter. The fact that it also bordered a nearby park helped for escaping the crowded stalls at a moments notice. You hiked your bags up on your shoulder.

What you didn't expect to find at the market was Simon. But there he was, three vendors down in his usual mask, a dark hoodie and jeans, and standing taller than most everyone else around him. He seemed fixated on something you couldn't make out from your position.

Wanting to be sure it was him, and you weren't suffering some visual hallucination, you pull out your phone and send a message

You: Hey Simon! How goes today? What are you up to?

You see him reach in his pocket and pull out his phone.

Simon: It goes. I'm out right now. Simon: Are you looking to meet up again?

You smile as you read his message. Putting your phone back in your pocket, you slowly make your way over to him. You step lightly and walk slowly, hiding behind people as you closed the distance. You were sure you were going to get the drop on him, when he turned around suddenly to face you; his fist pulled back to his side.

His eyes softened as he realized it was just you and he relaxed his fist.

“Hey.” He says in his flat, gravelly voice. “Shouldn't try and sneak up on me, could get hurt.”

“Nah,” You say, waving away his warning. “You'd never hurt me.” You smile.

He looks at you with a furrowed brow.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask. “No pressure.” You add, raising your hands up.

He nods.

“Sure. Just planned to wander, so might be here a while.” He says, returning his attention to the item that had caught his attention.

You crane your head and move around to get a better view of it. Its a multi-tool. It looks old and is rusted, likely not useful for actual use, but if he's focused on it, it means something to him. You take in his interrogation of the tool as he looks it over several times.

“Gonna buy it?” You ask softly.

“Dunno.” He shrugs.

'Always giving away so little.' You think before taking position up beside him. He gives you a side eye, but stays silent.

After a few more minutes of looking over the tool and other wares, he turns and starts to walk away. You pivot on the spot and start walking with him, keeping pace to his longer stride.

Simon briefly stops at a stall selling blankets and gives them a look over, running his hands over the soft fabric and examining the colourful patterns. He looks at you again and simply says, “Not as good as my throw.”

Your heart skips a beat and your soul astral projects around the city before crashing back into your body. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the fact that, in his own way, he just gave you a compliment. He liked your throw, and now compared it to every other one he came across. You had no way of hiding your pleased embarrassment as the red spread across your face, but you managed to get out a low, “I'm glad you like my gift.”

“Mmm." He replies without looking at you.

He moves on to the next stall, this one selling a variety of books that must be well out of print. You can smell the earthy, musky aroma of the old pages as you both step up to the stand. Your eyes dart over the selection of old material; the vendor offering a bit of everything from manuals to romance novels to kitschy sci-fi books.

It was only by happenstance that you looked up to see the glimmer in Simon's eye as he also took in the fascinating sight of the selection before him. He reached down and picked up a particularly damaged booklet. The words on the cover were worn mostly off from age, and the spine had clearly seen better days. But you were able to make out a faint image of a series of guns and what looked like the picture of a World War II uniform. You smile warmly, it's very in line with what he seemed interested in.

“You should get it.” You say as you finger the pile of sci-fi books. You grab a few and begin reading the back.

“You think?” Simon asks genuinely.

“Yeah.” You give him an enthusiastic nod. “Would go well with the collection you already have.”

“Hmm.” He ponders the possibility of the purchase.

You can't help but chuckle at some of the synopsis of the books you have and stack them in your arms. You are definitely getting these.

Simon still seems unsure of the booklet, so you reach over and take it gently from his hands and add it to your stack. “We'll take these.” You say as you turn to the elderly woman tending the stand.

She flashes you a crooked smile and quickly tallies the books total.

“That'll be five pound twenty-five.” She says with a hoarse voice. “Need a bag, love?” She inquires as you rummage through your wallet.

“No, thank you.” You smile, handing her the exact change.

You turn back to Simon who simply stares at you as you hand the booklet back to him. “That was unnecessary.” He grunts, though still taking the booklet from your hand.

“You're welcome.” You say, ignoring his comment. You shove the books into one of the bags tucked under your arm, and see that Simon is already heading off to the next table. Though his eyes are still very much on the booklet.

Simon stops in front of a stand selling cured meats and starts placing an order, clearly having been here before. You watch as his mood shifts; he's not quite pleasant, but he's much nicer to the man currently filling several wrappers with a variety of goods.

You stand there quietly as he the friendly man hands over the meats in a bag and Simon pays. You're interest is piqued by his selections, offering a small look into the man who keeps himself well guarded.

“Having a party?” You ask with a hint of cheekiness as he notices you staring.

“Maybe.” He grunts.

“Am I invited?” You say, pressing him.

“No.” He huffs, once again making off for his next destination.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

After a few more stops, he makes his way to a shop that takes you by surprise; soaps and shampoos. You had to admit that he did always smell great, but he didn't seem the type to buy such things in front of people – friends – so carefree.

His eyes tactically scanned the offerings as if looking for something specific. You couldn't resist taking a look as well, picking up a bar of soap labelled 'Nomad.'

“Earthy and adventurous with a smoky note and hint of pine.” You say, reading the label. “Huh...” You take a sniff. “Smells nice!” You smile.

You set it back down and pick up another one; 'Midnight Forest.'

“Deep moss scent with cedarwood, and a touch of herbs.” Again you sniff it. You purse your lips, unconvinced.

Simon's attention is split between his search and your inquisitive exploration of the soap.

“Going to buy one?” He asks.

You shrug, picking up another one.

“Stealth.” You say.

Simon's eyes lock on the bar of soap.

“An invigorating mix of sandalwood, black peppercorn and a citrus zest.”

You see his hand twitching at his side, quickly realizing you found the one he was looking for, but he's too damn prideful to tell you. You smile, and enjoy the moment. You play with the bar of soap, examining it closely. “What do you think, Simon? Should I get this one?”

“Get what you want.” He says with annoyance. You can see he's grinding his teeth.

You look the soap over once more before deciding to put it down, instead you grab a bar of the 'Nomad,' and pay for it. Shoving it in the bag with your books.

“I'll wait for you over there.” You say, pointing to a quiet area where the market thins out.

You walk away before he can respond. As fun as it was to tease him, you decided to give him a little privacy to make his purchase. You understand its just soap to you, but to him its one more glimpse into his private life.

You look at your bag and books and chuckle at the realization you didn't get much of anything, despite the list you had in your head when you arrived. 'Oh well.' you think, you can always come back.

You see Simon make his way towards you with his usual steady, confident pace, he gives you a nod before stopping a few paces in front of you.

“Got everything I need.” He says with his gruff voice, pulling the bags up briefly to show you. “How about you?”

“No...” you admit, shaking your head, “but I can come back tomorrow, its getting late and I should be heading home.”

Simon nods, and jerks his head to the side, a silent signal that he will walk you to the other side of the market. You smile and nod back, once again walking by his side.

“It was good to see you here, Simon.” You say as you two weave through the crowd.

“Yeah.” He says. His voice is so low and soft you almost didn't hear him.

“Want to get together soon?” You inquire as you two reach your parting destination. “Its been a while.” You add.

“Yeah.” His voice still quiet and soft. “Soon.” He speaks up.

“Perfect, message me when you want me to come over. We can do a movie night or something.”

“Sounds good.” He says. He goes to walk away but stops. Simon examines the bags in his hand and then gazes back at you. He lets out a heavy breath. “You live close by, yeah?” He inquires.

You nod. “Yeah... maybe a ten minute walk?”

“Show me.” Simon commands. “Show me where you live.” His voice is low and gravelly.

“OK, wow... that was a bit threatening...” You say, jerking your head back in surprise. “Why do you want to go to my place?” You ask, furrowing your brow.

“You know where I live.” He says flatly. “You've seen my flat. I want to see yours.”

You consider his request as he stares you down. You know you both do and don't have a choice. If you told him no, he would probably respect it... but it risked bucking the relationship you two had. You take a deep breath. 'Fair is fair.' You think.

“Alright, Simon.” You agree. You motion in the direction of your flat with a wave of your hand before taking off, leaving him behind as he did to you earlier.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

The walk to your flat was mostly uneventful. Simon spent a majority of it taking in the sights, sounds and people; likely never having been to this part of town before. Not a big surprise to you, he likely didn't venture far from his flat on the best of days.

“Not a bad place.” Simon mumbles as you both approach the small building.

It was a pretty basic building; ten units per level over four levels. Small balconies dotting across the exterior. A typical grey-black facade blended the building into the rest along the street. Small shrubs and flowers ran the perimeter of the buildings and filled the air with fragrant scents.

You usher him toward the entrance, typing in your code to enter the building. Simon follows strangely close behind you, but you try not to give it too much attention.

As you enter the flat, you gesture to the bag in his hand. “I'll put it in the fridge until you leave.”

He hands the bag over.

“Take a look around.” you say, giving him permission to roam freely.

Simon sets about your place in a tactical manner, following a path he created in his mind the moment he crossed the threshold of your doorway. He passed the kitchen with little interest and made his way to the living room, taking in the more lived-in feeling of the place. Pictures of your family are spread over the wall between paintings of forests and lakes, and children's art. Your TV stand and bookshelves are filled with reading material and figurines and trinkets. The room is overwhelming to him, the feeling of warmth and coziness curated causes his stomach to twist. He turns quickly and makes his was slowly but steadily towards the hallway.

He disappears from view and you let out a relieved sigh that you cleaned the flat. While he explores your bedroom and office, you put the kettle on and start making some tea. You grab some biscuits from the cupboard and plate them, setting them on the table.

You place two mugs on the counter as the kettle starts to whistle. The sounds seems to stir Simon's interest and he makes his way back to the kitchen. You stand there with a mug in hand, tea bag steeping.

“Thought you might stay for a cup?” You ask softly, handing him the hot mug.

He takes the mug from your hand, briefly touching your fingers.

“Have a seat.” You say, your heart jumping a bit at his touch.

You grab you own mug from the counter and take a seat across from Simon. You take a biscuit from the plate and dip it in your tea before taking a chomp out of it. You lean back in your chair and swallow the sweet treat.

“So whats the verdict?” You ask with a bit of playfulness. Its your flat, so you don't have to give a shit about rules one or two here -or any of them really - but especially those two. Your dynamic was changing and the rules were already bending, but being in your flat still gave you a bit more control. A bit more power.

“I can see several security concerns.” Simon replies flatly, moving his mask down to sip his tea. “But I suppose for a civilian, it will do.”

Was he joking?

You raise an eyebrow.

“Homey.” He adds, not looking at you.

“Well... you're welcome to visit any time.” You say.

He lets out a guttural growl.

You just look at him warmly, knowing you're assaulting him with a lot of stimulus. His mind must be working a mile a minute, so you let him think.

You take another drink of you tea. Sometimes just sitting in silence is enough.

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

Low Light Imaging Market To Reach USD 51,466 Million by 2030

The size of the low light imaging market was USD 23,749 million in 2022, and it push at a rate of 10.15% in the years to come, to touch USD 51,466 million by 2030, as per a report by a market research institution, P&S Intelligence. The CMOS category had the largest revenue share, of over 60%. This has a lot to do with its low cost of manufacturing, high-speed imaging, flexibility in the process…

[beesmygod]

one webcomics trend I've noticed for a bit is comics where the creator casts a wide net and publishes to as many sites as possible, so like there's a tumblr mirror, a webtoons mirror, a tapas mirror, a twitter mirror, I've even seen one that has a tiktok mirror (god). Some of these even have the decency to actually have their own website

the idea was to cast the widest possible net in order to get the maximum audience possible, as this was the excuse for people using webtoons despite it sucking raw hot dogs but i dont understand how on earth this strategy could ever work lol

full lol i love to hear myself talk damn. fucking. subnormality webcomic behavior

anyway to highlight the uselessness of google analytics, these are my analytics arranged on "looker studio", a google product i guess they forgot about, in order to make sense of the useless shit they're showing me. you can see this enormous traffic spike from a traffic bot farm advertising their services by ruining your metrics. you can no longer filter these urls from your data.

full image

here's my google adsense conspiracy theory from me shedding light on why i think (STRONG EMPHASIS ON "THINK". IM HYPOTHESIZING) with commentary from someone who knows way more about the subject than my armchair observations.

my marketing strategy is to talk bullshit with people with similar interests while letting people know when my comic updates twice a week. if they want to read it, they can. they're not stupid, they don't need to be forced into reading it if they want to. i assume most of my readers are as broke as i am so i don't hound them to give me money they don't have. i'll never run ads again unless its like. for a friend's thing. hand-cultivated by me. im not looking for a wide audience, i'm looking for an audience of people who "get it" and can see an inherent value in what i create. if they have some spare cash, i make my barrier to entry on my patreon extremely low; 1 dollar a month and you can see things early and go through a backlog of author commentary and design stuff and rewards im sooo behind on im so sorry. im so sick i promise, im coming back!!! anyway i just want real human people to have a chance to see things and enjoy things without making it a fucking hassle, you know.

the most organic, actual traffic i got from my site is from a friend's webcomic that links to mine. 11 people read a lot of pages! that's genuinely making my head spin! that's great! i hope they liked it and will check in again. i love the comic they came from so they are clearly ppl of taste lol.

oh uh. and heres my comic lol. for any cantankerous gay old losers out there.

[zairas-realm-gateway]

LuSan Scenario

Sanji is feeling overwhelmed. He won't tell anyone what happened, but he appears to be rattled. Doesn't want to explain how he saw something at the market of the new island they are on has triggered him. His eyes feel dry from keeping them open because if he closes them then he's suddenly back trapped in the hellscape he spent his childhood in. The experience leaves him feeling cold as he spends the rest of the evening in the kitchen to keep the others from seeing how his hands shake when he desperately lights cigarette after cigarette.

But nothing on the Sunny is a secret for long anymore though. Secrets lead to hurt feelings and bruised bonds.

Luffy is watching, just as he always does. From his seat atop of Sunny's head, head can see, sense, everything. As evening dips into night and the stars come out, Luffy watches Sanji's aura through his haki. Can see how that little waver in the aura has been there since Sanji came back from shore. Luffy has given it time to heal. Left Sanji alone to try and deal with the change in the status quo on his own.

But it has not changed.

Luffy is not patient and he's tired of waiting. Climbing down from his seat, heheads for the galley. He is silent as he steps in the door. The creak of the wood draws Sanji's attention to the door. Lifting his head, he gives Luffy a smile but it is tired and strained. The cook looks pallid. Luffy can see how dull his aura is.

Without a word, Luffy walks around the wall of the kitchen over to his lethargic boyfriend. He presses his forehead against Sanji's bicep. A low whine sounds in the captain's throat. Hand coming up to rest on the cook's forearm. Just below where his sleeve is rolled up. A gasp shudders in Sanji's chest as Luffy's warm palm tenderly strokes down Sanji's arm. Thumb stroking along the fine, blond hairs of his forearm. The soft slide of his hand only ending once his is resting over Sanji's. Fingers slipping between Sanji's, linking together both hand and spirit.

Sanji's lip begins to tremble. His skin tingling in a trail following the touch. Teeth biting deep into the paper of his cigarette. There's a slide of warmth as he feels Luffy's other arm carefully wrap around his thin waist. Hot lips brand his skin through the silk of his shirt as Luffy slowly kisses up Sanji's shoulder. Luffy is pressing up against his back now. Sturdy, warm, claiming.

"Captain?" Sanji's voice is hoarse. Dry from neglect, a denial of even a simple taste of water. No response comes from the man behind him. Luffy's nose presses the nape of his neck. Warm, measured breaths wafting down his collar. The press of a hot, wet kiss to his flesh has falling tears feeling like they're searing patterns into the skin of his cheeks.

Sanji's fractured walls crumble as he hears his own name breathed in adoration against his skin. A cry, hoarse and distressed, bursts from his throat. It feels like its tearing him apart inside. The strength leaves his legs as he cries freely, screaming his frustration and anguish. He collapses forward but never makes the painful contact of his ribs connecting with the edge of the counter.

Luffy is strong and sturdy behind him. Strength, so frightening yet so gentle, holds him up. The hand holding his squeezes, sharing his captain's strength. He looks back at his love and keens weakly, vision watering so intensely that the other's image thoroughly distorted. "L-luffy?"

That solid, serious expression on Luffy's face shatters immediately. Dark eyes glinting, his mouth pulls up in a smile that only Luffy could manage. Suddenly, with little to no effort, Sanji is being scooped up bridal style. Cradled to his beloved's scarred chest, Sanji gasps.

"Shihihi, my Sanji." Luffy giggles, booping the tips of their noses together.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

bday fic options! they try on clothes together and try to figure out their style now that they're in their innkeepers era; they're making out and it's starting to go somewhere but they keep getting distracted (stede in particular keeps wanting to info dump a bit); started watching a movie, got horny, bon appetit.

Whoo! I was so absolutely enchanted by the image of them trying on clothes together that I couldn't NOT pick that one (although there might be an additional pwp in the works where Stede accidentally edges Ed for half an hour because there's a documentary on TV).

“You can tell me that you hate it.”

“I do not,” Stede said, choosing his words very carefully, “hate it.”

“Alright, but you did that bitchy little thing with your face.” Ed raised his eyebrows, then let his breath out through his teeth. “Like that. And I asked for your honest opinion.”

“Alright.” Stede looked Ed up and down. “I love the fishnets.”

“Yeah, me too -”

“Do we think maybe the fishnets and the tights are a bit much? Together?”

“Fuck,” Ed sighed, letting his head thunk directly against the doorframe. “This is fucking hard.”

“You’re putting so much pressure on yourself, love.” Stede reached out, sighing in relief when Ed immediately slumped into his arms. Ed was trying so hard, but the huge baggy sweater paired with the flowy skirt that was so long it was hard to even see the fishnets-tights combo wasn’t exactly the height of fashion. “Not every outfit has to be…all this.”

“I’m hopeless,” Ed groaned, somewhere around Stede’s left nipple.

“Idea,” Stede said, and he and Ed started sorting their clothes into piles.

They both balked at the idea of throwing anything out. That felt too permanent. But they got a nice big box that could fit under the bed, and Ed’s Blackbeard leathers were the first things to go in it.

Stede was a bit surprised when Ed’s old black t-shirts, too, went into the box, but he was careful not to pass any judgment. Ed deserved to be able to decide his new style for himself.

Innkeepers didn’t really have a dress code, was the thing. And they both had a bit of a lot going on in their heads. Stede had gone from aristocratic finery straight to pirate-chic, and Ed had never really had a chance to figure out his style past the Blackbeard image. They’d both been buying new clothes nearly every time they went to the market, but they’d been a bit scared to really try them out.

In hindsight, suggesting that Ed come right out with an outfit that felt “him” was probably a bit too much to start with.

Once everything was sorted…

“Huh,” Stede said, looking down at his pile. He actually found he liked the low-necked pirate-y shirts very, very much, so those had stayed in his “innkeeper outfits” pile (“innkeeper outfits” felt much easier than saying “clothes that feel like me"). The leather pants could go into the box, except for one pair that he might bring out for…special occasions (Ed really liked nuzzling his face against his bulge before a blowjob in those pants. Sue them). Stede really did just prefer breeches and stockings - you couldn’t deny the amazing things they did to his calves. He had a few new cravats, in showy shades of red, and he didn’t want to give up his leather boots but he wasn’t about to pass up a few pairs of heels with fun bows on them.

“Whoah,” Ed whispered, and Stede turned his attention to Ed’s pile.

It was colorful, which was Stede’s first impression. Lots of cropped shirts in shades of pink and purple, a few plain, light linen breeches. Comfy wraps, skirts, even a sundress that he hadn’t been quite brave enough to try on yet but Stede knew would look amazing on him. A few low-necked, frilly shirts, too, things that were fun and swooshy. 

“Do you think that this is…” Ed cleared his throat. “Too much?”

“Just right,” Stede promised. “Wanna give it a go?”

Ed’s eyes widened. “Now?”

“Just for us,” Stede assured him. “Just for fun, right now.”

Ed looked at him, appraising, and when he finally nodded, the two of them couldn’t really stop giggling as they helped each other get dressed.

Stede chose a low-necked shirt, some fun matching pink breeches, and a pair of stockings that hugged his calves just right. Ed picked out a crop-top, one of the longer skirts with a fun pattern of strawberry plants, and some warm knitted socks.

They took each other’s hands as they walked to the mirror.

They looked…light. Comfortable. Them.

“Couple of cool dudes, right there,” Ed said, laughing to hide how he was getting a bit choked up.

Stede grinned, wrapping a hand around Ed’s waist.

It was nice, to look in the mirror and see them both looking so happy. So at home with themselves.

Stede thought he could get used to it.

[penvisions]

the melting point {chapter 15}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (exEMT! Reader)

Summary: With two articles under your belt, you're busy prepping for the final farmer's market of the summer season. Intent on making a good impression on the city once again, but it happens in a way you least expect it.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, stalking, stranger danger, mention of previous injuries, medical jargon, gun violence, firearms, panic, chaotic scene, high anxiety scene, crowds, mania, allusions to shooting (but not described), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), slow morning smut, description of the male body, food consumption, smoking, cigarettes, talk of past trauma, mentions of past emotional abuse

A/N: this chapter has taken a long time, but i'm back with these two and i'm happy to deliver this to y'all! *header images are for ~vibes~ only, reader is described as having red hair and tattoos

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || kofi

You woke slowly, warm from the body curled around you. Strong arms were laid over your back, keeping you in place where you leaned into Frankie with your face pressed into his chest and legs tangled with his own.

Frankie’s breathing was even, until he huffed as consciousness took hold. He buried his nose into the back of your neck, lips parting for him to nip at the skin there before he was pulling away altogether.

His strong back was on display as he padded across the rug and toward the bedroom door, the morning light peeking through the blinds catching in the notches of his muscles. Grunting lightly, you rolled over onto your back to lay in the warm spot he left on the sheets, eyes closing as sleep pulled at the edges of your mind.

The muffled sounds of him stirring about in the kitchen kept you from slipping back into deep sleep, simply laying there and enjoying the domestic moment as you heard the rush of water as he set up the coffee machine. Soft meows sounded from underneath the blankets and two head popped up from beneath them as the cats realized it was waking hours. They jumped from the bed and the sound of their trotting and the creak of the bedroom door let you know that they were seeking Frankie out in hopes of breakfast.

His soft murmuring as he talked to them pulled your lips up in a lazy smile.

You must’ve dozed off a bit, because the next thing you knew was the hot press of broad hands over your middle, the blankets suddenly gone from atop your body to be replaced with Frankie’s body. He was hovering low, over your stomach, the feel of his nose as it trailed down over the skin there, nerves jumping as it tickled just a bit.

“I got you, querida, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” His breath wafted over your core, causing you to whine as your hips bucked to get him closer. Fingers digging into the give of your thighs, he looked up at you through his lashes to see you already watching him with dazed eyes. Not breaking the connection, he leaned in and licked up your seam with the flat of his tongue. The heavy wet weight of his tongue parted your lips and you sucked in a shuddering breath as tingles of pleasure sparked over your skin.

He licked at you clit gently, testing how sensitive you were. When your hips pressed toward him, he sucked it into his mouth and laved attention on it. A borderline pornographic moan sounded loud into the air, igniting Frankie’s body. He pushed a hand down to the crotch of his boxers, trying to focus himself. He was aching, his touch only bringing his arousal to the forefront of his mind. He moved the hand to reach up and graze soft touches over your swollen lips, gathering the slick you were making just for him.

As his fingertips grazed your fluttering entrance, your hips bucked. The action caused him to release your clit with a wet pop.

“Frankie, please, I need more.”

“I’m gonna give it to you, sweet girl, don’t you worry.” He dove back down, mouth moving against you with the hot wet of his tongue while two fingers slid easily into you. He crooked them and you mewled at the budge to your g-spot he always found so effortlessly.

“F-uck.”

He hummed against you, the vibrations taking you closer to the edge you were balances so precariously on. His fingers pumped out of you at a fast pace, knowing that’s what you liked best, what you responded to best.

Peeking through heavy eyes, you caught sight of him rutting against the sheets where he splayed below you. The way he took pleasure in giving it, suddenly too much to handle. White spots exploded over your vision as your release washes over you in a cresting wave. The heat of it making sweat pill on the small of your back, in between the valley of your breasts, on the skin of your forehead. Frankie moaned into your core as he felt you clench tight around his flingers, the creamy release leaking out around his fingers still deep inside.

“Fuck, mi vida, you’re…you did such a good job for me.”

You whined as he carefully slid his fingers from you, bringing them up to his lips to lick his reward from them. A deep groan past over his plush lips, shiny with your slick. Fingers scrabbling at his chest, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him up, the hot line of his body coming to rest against yours. His hard length dragged across your thigh, leaving sticky drops of precum from his leaking tip.

His hands were gentle as they propped up the still healing knee up to wrap around his waist, and he notched the head of his cock right at your entrance.

“Dame un beso,” He demanded as he leaned down, lips hovering your own as your eyes watched the way his body moved. The softness of his middle hot where it hovered over, the way one of his hands was wrapped around the length of him as he held it there, waiting for his kiss. You surged up to desperately kiss him, mouth open and tongue licking into his own. He swallowed the moan from you as he pushed in and bottomed out in one thrust.

-

The grocery store was busy in the early morning, but you had put off going to grab the coffee creamer you preferred for basic brews up in the apartment. You were on your phone in the middle of the baking aisle, text open to Frankie and asking him what type of salsa he preferred, you were going to cook dinner that night, to celebrate the end of the market season. Someone bumped into you, the phone nearly falling from your hands when you turned to see a young woman far too close to you. She had a panicked look about her, her hair mused from moving too fast. Her hands came around your upper arm and she pressed close to you.

“Someone is following me, and I just didn’t want to look like I was alone, I’m so sorry.” She whispered lowly to you, explaining her breach of your personal space. You nodded once, so slight that she could only feel it against her head close to yours. You feigned looking over the stuff in your cart, voice light as your eyes swept over the rest of the aisle.

“You think we should do white or dark chocolate this time?” There was a man hovering at the end of the aisle, too engrossed in the coffee filters for your comfort. He was breathing a touch too fast, his chest rising and falling in a way that gave him away underneath his dark hoodie. The cap atop his head looked so much like Frankie’s beloved one, but only in silhouette. This man was nothing but creepy and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end as you noticed him shift slightly closer.

You hit the call button on Frankie’s text chain, slipping it into your front pocket to allow for the speaker to catch sound easier.

“Oh, well, you know how I feel about white chocolate?”

“Of course,” You tittered, voice a little breathy as you looked at her out of the corner of your eye. You could hear Frankie’s voice coming out small from the speaker on the phone but it was indiscernible as the man at the end of the aisle began to approach. His attention was on the offerings of flavored coffee syrups now, but his ear was facing the two of you. “But let’s work through what we have left over from the last batch, win-win?”

“Win-win, thank you so much.” She tightened the hold she had on your arm before releasing it and going to the head of the cart and began moving toward the end of the aisle. You took to the side, placing a hand on the lip of the basket. “Alright then, next stop?”

“I think we should get some coffee, at that cute place?” You could picture Frankie’s confused and worried expression smoothing over as he realized you were trying to talk to him without being obvious.

“Errands and a treat!” She allowed you to guide the cart toward the front of the store, her steps even as she tried to match your easy pace.

“We’ll check out and then you can follow me.”

The shadow of the man followed you all the way through the checkout process and getting the girl to her car. You gave her the address to the bakery, typed it into her phone’s map, told her to follow after your truck once you got loaded up yourself and drove by her spot to lead the way.

Frankie was already at the shop when you pulled up into a regular spot like you were a customer, the girl parking beside you. You both walked into the shop, hand in hand, making your way straight to Frankie who had taken up the couch that faced the window. He had been watching the street since that distressing call, in the middle of work errands that could wait until he made sure you were safe.

He kissed your cheek and squeezed your hand tight when you approached him. Bringing his arm around the girl in a light embrace to keep up appearances that you all knew each other after a shared look to ensure that was okay with her. She smiled sheepishly at him as she sat down on the couch across the coffee table.

“Thank you both so much, I had no idea what to do.”

“Someone was definitely following her, Frankie. Kept close to us the whole way through the store and a black hatchback followed us here too.”

“Cops won’t do anything until he makes a move, unfortunately.”

You thanked Louise as she came over to greet you, she must’ve sensed that something was wrong because she treated you like a customer. Asking after you and seeing what your trio wanted to drink.

“Don’t worry about the charge,” You leaned close to the girl, her dark hair brushing against your bare upper arm. “I own this place, just keeping up appearances in case he comes in.”

“Thank you, really, I just moved here so I don’t have anyone to help with…whatever this is.”

“Well, you’ve made two new friends today.” You smiled at her, helping to distribute the drinks Louise had brought over. As you stood to do so, you noticed another car pull up out front, taking the last spot against the curb. They parked well for how packed the street was, but again, that’s why you had opted to put in a small lot on the right side of the building. It wasn’t the car that had driven by twice now, with a shrouded figure hunched over the steering wheel and you felt comfortable enough to take a seat beside Frankie on his own couch.

You introduced yourselves, saying you had a small group of friends the girl was welcome to join on any occasion. Frankie’s held his drink in one hand, his other resting warmly on the top of your thigh as you settled into the cushions. Easy conversation flowed as the girl seemed to calm down and gather her bearings. Frankie even offered to follow her home before going back to his work errands when she was ready.

“Frankie?” A hesitant voice broke into the conversation from the front door. You looked over as if your own name had been called. Frankie’s hand slipped from your leg and you felt a pang at the action. He looked like he had gotten caught in the middle of something he shouldn’t have been, when you glanced from the woman who had just walked into the shop to him, confusion painting your features.

His hand came up to rub at the back of his neck as he scooted slightly away from you, sides no longer touching. The curls reaching over his neck from underneath his cap fluffed up at his nervous tick.

“Lucy.” Was all he could say in response, the white-hot prickles of anxiety crawling through him at the surprise encounter.

“Oh!” You stood and offered your hand with a polite smile. You looked back at the flustered man, making sure it was okay to interact with his daughter’s mother. He nodded, the movement stilted. But it had been there, his comfortability: the permission to interact with her. “Frankie’s told me you were in town, it’s nice to meet you.”

“And you are…?”

“She’s my girlfriend.” He didn’t stand to greet her more intimately, staying seated with his coffee in his grip. She nodded along, taking in the way he seemed to find himself as he spoke about you. The nervous air about him dissipating as the focus shifted to you. “Been together for a while, she’s the owner of this place. She’s been…a really important part of my life lately, so please, be respectful.”

You reached over and placed a hand over the one he had resting atop the back of the couch. Eyes soft when you looked over at him.

“Please, feel free to try anything from the case or on the menu, my treat.” You looked back over to her, she was watching Frankie closely. Thankfully, she didn’t look too upset, maybe surprised would be a more accurate description as small lines were apparent around her brows and the corners of her eyes. A shaky exhale and a nod came from her, before you ushered her over to the case and explained some of the items. She asked a few questions, mostly about the bakery but when you were both waiting beside the register for Louise to make her choice of drink, her eyes glinted with something as she spoke in a hushed tone.

“Is…is my- is she happy?”

“…she is.” You wanted to reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but you hesitated, unsure of how that would go over. Instead you spoke as genuinely as you could while still being respectful yourself. “She really enjoys coming here and seeing how things are made, to cook at home when it’s the three of us. But…she is, happy. Frankie is doing a wonderful job, even if he doesn’t feel like it all the time.”

“You love him.”

Her words weren’t accusatory.

“I do love him, very much so. And your daughter, Lucy.” You worried your bottom lip, slightly anxious as you mulled deeper thoughts over. “I…can’t begin to imagine the situation you were in…back then. But I have been through some rather difficult stuff myself. We all make choices that haunt us, but know that he doesn’t hold any grudge nor does Lex. I don’t know what all he’s told her since he’s seen you last and y’all talked. But…you aren’t considered the bad guy.”

Your breath was pushed from your lungs when her arms came around you in a sudden embrace. The few tears she couldn’t tamp down dampening the collar of your tank top. You carefully brought one of your own arms up around her to return the hug. When she pulled back, her smile was watery.

“Thank you, it’s…the regret is what kept me away for so long, but seeing him in that flower shop. It was…it was like a chance to finally breath again, to make amends. I feel guilty for not having been able to commit to him…to them. But I never really wanted to be a mother…”

“And that’s perfectly okay, you tried, but I don’t fault you for leaving…just the way that you did.”

“You have every right to…it wasn’t my finest hour.”

“Everything’s okay, we’ll all be okay. I promise.”

-

The second you were up the staircase under the eyes of a watchful Frankie, he enveloped you in a tight embrace. The scent of him strong as it surrounded you, the cedar and motor oil undertones that always seemed to linger on him comforting as his entire body wrapped around your own. He was corralling you as he tried to breathe you in, his mouth open against any skin he could reach. The scruff of his patchy facial hair and full mustache tickling as he did so. His lips plush and velvety where they pressed against your skin.

“…thank you.”

The words were searing into your skin with a swipe of his tongue.

“You don’t have to- ah!” The sting of his teeth on a nipple through the fabric of your tank top stole the words of your response. His hands were moving to unbutton your jeans, thick fingers hooking into the waistband of them and igniting a spark low in your middle. He mirrored the bite onto your other breast as your hands came to grip his shoulders and you gave a small push. He rocked into you, the line of him hard and hot through his own pants as he rutted against your hip.

“Frankie!” You giggled, a little lightheaded at the sudden affection. You were about to tell him why he needed to reign himself in, when a voice sounded from in the kitchen.

“Damn, Fish, let the woman breath.”

He sprung from you just as suddenly as he had been on you, face hot and eyes a bit wild at being caught in such a state. He was more concerned for your privacy, your integrity, than his own and he shifted to stand between you and his best friend. His body shielding your own as one of his hands came to cover the slight tent at the front of his pants. You giggled again as you looked around him to see Pope giving him the biggest shit eating grin as he chewed on a bite of whatever he had just seasoned in the hot pan behind him.

“Pendejo! What’re you doin’ sneaking around in here?”

“Wasn’t sneaking, primo, was just making dinner, like we planned?”

Frankie huffed, looking down at you where you had moved toward the island and settled on a stool. You leaned over to take the bite off of the spoon Pope was extended to you, his hand cupped up under it so as to not spill.

“Lex is still napping, but she had a good day at the park. Wants to go camping soon, so we should all plan to book the cabin soon, yeah?”

“Oooh, I wanna go!” You wiggled your shoulders as you nodded toward the pan and gave the man a thumbs up.

“Of course, mantequilla, that’s a given.” Pope looked over at you with a softened expression, voice tender as he watched you rub at your knee gently. Frankie walked over to the coffee table and picked up the bottle of your pain meds. He busied himself getting a glass of water with only two shoulder bumps to his friend and brought both over to you.

“I’m making pasta, easy enough. Figured we’d take it easy tonight since it’s gonna be a big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s a speed rack that isn’t loaded down to capacity down in the kitchen.”

“Tio Santi! That smells so good!” She sprouted from the gust room off to the left of the kitchen, door creaking open. She greeted you both with side hugs before she picked up the smaller of your two cats and snuggled her. Loud purring could be heard over the sound of Pope getting plates down from a cabinet.

“Wash your hands, Lex, and set the table please.” Frankie pulled the small creature from her, gently nudging her toward the bathroom.

“Yes, papa.” She was gone for maybe a minute before she was twirling around the kitchen, grabbing the plates from Pope and dancing around him to fetch the silverware. She set it all atop the small table by the laundry nook before taking her seat and waiting patiently for family dinner.

“Do I have time to shower, Santi?”

“It’s nearly done, but I still have the bread to make.”

“I’m gonna go wash off all this buttercream then, I feel like a damn frosted cookie.”

“Look as good as one too,” Frankie whispered into your hair as he helped you stand on your tired legs. A busy day had continued after the weirdness of the morning. Frankie had returned to his work errands while you went to preparing for the market tomorrow. But you had texted the girl from the supermarket to ensure she was okay, told her to call you if she caught so much as a glimpse of the man or his car and then the police. Offered her to come by the shop tomorrow or whenever she wanted.

“Oh hush you,” You let him steady you as you walked toward the bathroom, desperately needing to not smell like sugar and butter. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as he ushered you through the door. He made sure you were able to safely step into the large stall before he returned to the kitchen to help with the last bit of dinner.

-

The air was filled with the hum of voices and faint music. The sun shining down warmly over the Saturday morning scene of the last farmer’s market of the season. Everything was going as planned for the exciting day, you and Will were managing customers, the inside help tending to drinks. But as with everything, it all changed in the blink of an eye.

A gunshot rang out, a plume of smoke following the sound up into the open air of the street. Screams and the rumbling sound of dozens of footsteps on asphalt filled the air in its wake. You had instinctively ducked, hands dropping the bag you were holding out to a patron to cover your head. As soon as you looked back up you saw what chaos had resulted. Will’s hands over your back where he had curled over you were steady as he pulled away from you as you straightened back up to your full height.

“Everyone inside!” You shouted, wanting to be heard over the scene, you and Will were picking up the folding table set up in front of the door and moving it to the side. He was ushering people into the shop, instructing them to hide further in the kitchen and behind the counter, to turn the lights off and be quiet. A good crowd had formed, the people closest to the store seeking the much appreciated shelter.

“Will, watch over them. I’m gonna look for the others!” You were tugging your apron off and handing it to him, walking away from the safety of the shop. Benny had gone off with Lucianna while Pope, Frankie, and Lex had gone off in a little group to explore the markets offerings.

Everything around you oversaturated, the scene so crisp and sharp that it hurt your eyes. Your focus fell on the small figure of Lex as she cowered in the protection of a flower stand, hidden in the blooms of them. Frankie was further down with Pope, both of them helping to get people out of the way in the craziness. Someone had been shot, you could smell the tang of blood wafting down the street. Police sirens were far off, those that had already been acting as security for the market scrambling to get people to safety and inside the businesses lining the blocked off street.

Lucianna was hidden in the flower stand as well, her arms tight across Lex’s chest as she held her smaller form close. As soon as the little girls frantic brown eyes landed on you, she was pulling from the woman’s grip, rushing toward you. Everything froze, the world tilting on a dizzying axis as the sun glinted off of the muzzle of a gun behind her. Frankie spotted it the same second you did, but he was so far down the street, so far from his daughter out in the open as people scattered, tripping over themselves.

You were rushing toward her, no thoughts for yourself as you tried to close the distance. She was running as fast as she could toward you, her hands held out as tears fell from her eyes. She was so scared, it was palpable. Fear a thick blanket of tension over the entire street. As soon as she was close enough, you were gripping her tight and pulling her into you, turning your back on the man firing into the panicking crowd.

Pain blossomed at the base of your spine.

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