#and dvas is green now!

[circadianaa]

new clothing and refs for d squad except duke because i didn’t want to redraw his 🙏

closeups and an extra outfit for dvas below!

[sturnioloslut1]

Turned on- C.S

Summery- Chris and y/n are at a Halloween party with friends, and y/n gets Chris turned on by her costume😜

WARNINGS: Smut,Dom!Chris sub!reader, blowjob, fingering, pussy eating cumming,underaged drinking,nicknames, chocking

Pink- y/n

Green bold- Jake

Red- Johnnie

Green- Tara

Blue- Matt

Purple- Nick

Orange- Chris

You have been cleaning your room all day, blasting music on your speaker. You get a little thirsty so you go downstairs to get a red bull. Suddenly you get a message from your friend Tara.

Tara💜- Hey girl you down to come to a Halloween party tonight? Chris is gonna be there😉

Y/n- Sure I’ll be ready in 30😜

You go back upstairs and shuffle your songs when Freak hoe by Speaker knockerz comes on. You always think of Chris listening to this song because every time you listen to it, it reminds you of him. You look through your wardrobe and you find a dva cosplay costume. You throw it on your bed and get in the shower. 20 minutes have passed and your finishing up with your hair and makeup, you get a FaceTime call from your friend Tara. “Hey girl should I come and get you now?” She says on the other end of the phone out the front of the house where’s the party is at. “Yeah by the time you get here I’ll be ready” I say smiling at her turning off my straighteners. “Okay perfect I’ll come now” Tara says before ending the call. We’re on the way to the party blasting music in the car. “Bro Chris is gonna flip when he sees you,your ass and tits look great in that btw” Tara says pulling into the drive way of the party. “Thank you girly” I say getting out of the car. I reach for the front door,and Jake’s outside smoking with Johnnie, “hey guys” I say hugging them. “Hey y/n you look so good” Jake says pulling away from the hug. “You look insane” I say walking over to Johnnie giving him a hug “my guy Johnnie how are you?” I say hugging Johnnie. “I’m great,how are you?”Johnnie asks pulling away from the hug taking a sip of his drink. “I’m good” I say smiling walking away, I reach for the front door and walk into the party. I walk past people kissing,drinking and greeting everyone. Then I see Chris talking with Carrington and his triplet brothers. “Y/N”! Nick shouts while walking over to me. “hey Nick how are you?” I say hugging him, “I’m good how are you”? Nick says smiling. “I’m great” I say, “I’ll get you drink girl” Nick says as he walks over to the drinks and offers me one. “Thank you Nick” I say as he hands me the drink. “I’m gonna go and talk to my friends” Tara says over the music. I just nod, “Y/n come here” Nick says and I follow him. “Hey guys” I say going to hug Matt. “Hey y/n,how are you”? Matt says pulling away and I’m going over to Carrington to hug him. “I’m good how are you guys” I say pulling away from Carrington and going to Chris. “We’re great” Chris says as I walk over to him to give him a hug. I sip my drink before placing it down on the counter near Chris’s drink and I just stand in front of Chris for a few seconds giving him eye contact. I feel my cheeks get red and Chris pulls me in for a hug. He made sure no one was looking and got my hand and made me palm him through his pants. I look up at him giving him a look and he’s looking at me smiling, I pull from the hug, and I jump up onto the counter. After a few hours of talking with them, I look at my phone and see a text from Chris.

Chris😫: come to the bathroom

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom” I say getting off the counter. “Okay no problem” Matt says taking a sip of his drink. I walk over to the bathroom and I text Chris say that I’m outside waiting for him to let me in. Chris opens the door and pulls me in when I’m in he locks it. He pins me up against the wall and starts to kiss me passionately, he moans into the kiss and then pulls away. My underwear begins to get wet just from kissing him. Chris pulls him pants and under wear down, “on your knees now” he demands. I do what he says and I lower myself on the ground, I start to tease him by kitten licking the tip. He brings a hand down to my head and pushes my head down and makes me gag. “Yeah,gag on dick like that” Chris says looking down at me. I start to bob my head up and down he gets one hand and makes a makeshift ponytail. He starts to thrust in the mouth making me gag even more around him. “Ah fuck I’m gonna cum” Chris says breathless and his eye rolling back his mouth making a “o” shape. He groans and finishes in my mouth. “Swallow it like a good girl” he says looking at me then helping me off the ground. He picks me up and puts me on the counter taking off my costume, throwing it somewhere in the bathroom, he starts to kiss down my neck leaving hickies. He gets to my pussy and takes off my underwear, he rubs his long fingers through my folds to collect my wetness. “Already soaking and I haven’t even touched you yet” he says bringing his fingers up to my mouth, I start to lick his fingers and gag on them and then he brings them down to my pussy and he gets on his knees. His tongue instantly going at an ungodly speed on my clit,I moan at the feeling. He adds two fingers in my leaking hole. I start to moan even louder, his fingers moving at a fast pace, “ah fuck fuuck” I moan loudly pushing Chris’s head further into my pussy. He looks up at me and smiling, then closing his eyes. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” I say my eyes watering and rolling back. He starts to go even faster with his fingers, and I start to shake and scream from my orgasm. He pulls away and comes up to kiss me, he pulls away from the kiss and inserts inside of me. He starts goes at an ungodly speed not giving me time to adjust to his size. “Ah fuck,fuck” I moan loud looking at him. Chris lets out a low groan and bites his lip from the noises and pleasure, he brings a hand up to my throat squeezing a little. I grab his wrist to hold and his other hand comes up to my mouth and he pushes two fingers in my mouth for me to suck. “Ah fuck”. He grits his teeth. “I’m gonna cum.” “Are you gonna let me finish in this little pussy?” I just nod my head since I can’t talk from the pleasure. “Words” Chris says grabbing my jaw, “ah fuck y-yes please finish inside of me” I say moaning. Chris thrusts gets more sloppy and slower. “Ugh fuck” Chris grunts and moans, I moan as well from the pleasure and from my cumming. He pulls out and cleans us both up. “Are you okay?” “Did I go too rough?” Chris asks concerned. “I like when your rough” I say laughing. We get our clothes on,and then go back out and party.

[ricardian-werewolf]

Chapter 6: Holy water cannot help you now

Ao3 Link Summary: As the aftermath of the attack on Keramzin comes to the forefront, there is a reflection across Ravka of their Sankta Sol's martyrdom.

Chapter below cut:

After. As the darkness claimed her, the Girl knew this black void was not the end. More, a sleep. The soft, tranquil stillness of a coma. She had fought so long, so hard, and deserved a chance to lick her wounds. The knife to her chest had torn into her heart, but a flicker of sunlight healed the skin before the Darkling could notice.

As she slipped in and out of the inky black, her faithful came from out of the woodwork to settle the girl’s body upon a gold-encrusted litter and laid her upon sheets of gold satin and silks. From there, she was carried by her faithful Soldat Sol across Ravka to the place of her birth. Her friends and allies accompanied her, the gold-eyed twins at her side no matter the day or night. Millions flooded the Dva Stolba valley, chanting her name until their voices were hoarse, and yet screamed still more. Mothers wept, tore at their garments as her litter was carried past village and town alike. Men removed their caps and clutched the icons of her form - the stag’s antlers cast in a halo around her head. The icon showed the fetter on both wrists as she cast a glow of sunlight. 

All while, the girl slept and dreamed of a fox-prince with golden hair and hazel eyes. He, too, slept. Buried beneath the ice-sheet of the Ash Tree, brought into a coma through their shared tether. The darkness did not sink its claws into him the way the girl feared. In its stead, the darkness loved her prince the way it could never love her. Time healed all wounds. The girl knew that like a surgeon’s scalpel, the darkness was seeking to cut from her prince the tumor that had festered in his soul for so long. 

The Darkling had evaded fate once again, leaving the orphanage of the girl’s youth a smoldering ruin. Into his embrace he had taken the Grisha children, promising brimstone and hellfire to follow if anyone made to move against them. But, one did. Sturmhond, the wolf of the seas, made the Darkling’s plans to attack the Firebird’s nest a near impossibility. The First Army, of its Otkazat’sya men and women, raised new banners in the name of the Sun Saint:

A fox circling a sunburst, all backed in the deep green of the Little Prince. 

They took up their guns and sabres once more, and marched into the fog of war to bring glory to their war-torn home. All while worshiping her name and offering prayers of healing for the soul of the girl who had become their savior.

Little girls scattered fire-flower petals on the grasses of the Firefalls as the Apparat, returned from his holy exile, proclaimed the Sankta Sol in a place beyond what mere man knew. She was not at the Making of the Heart of the World, not yet.

Nor would she be. For the tether that stretched between the Little Saint and Little Prince was a bond that could not be cleaved even by death. As long as the other loved their half, they would not die. The Little Prince was too clever to evade death’s scythe. He would be the one to plunge into the underworld, guided by the girl’s light, and they would emerge.

Together. 

She would not let the Darkling rule another day. He would face his fate, whether with the steel of a Grisha blade or cold bullet of a rifle. It would be up to the girl to undo the pain and misery that had swallowed her country and people whole. She would live.

She would rise, become the savior her people needed. It was time to come out from under her old matron’s skirts. The Girl would waken, and she would have at her side a king who would crown her in cloths of gold and fox-fur, impress into her skin the prayers of a man who loved her for who she was. His word was holy oath, more than even the Apparat’s cries. 

Her faithful would come for her, and she for him. This much was something that could be written in the stars, in the compass that pointed ever truly north, and the ring upon the girl’s finger that only the red-haired girl of one eye and many scars recognized.

Her friends and allies would disperse, and would return to the lives of outlaws and miscreants intent on surviving. But from her place of rest and enshrinement, they would emerge crowned in the certainty that the Sun Saint had not forsaken her most beloved of peoples. She had not failed them once ere this.

Now she would not either.

Carried up in the flames of the firefalls, the litter carrying the girl was deconstructed, and a dome of the finest Fabrikator made glass placed over the bed. In its becoming of a coffin, the falls were parted and the coffin placed into a cave lit by the stalagmites that dripped down from its ceiling. Then, the cave was sealed, prayers were finally offered, and the crowd drew away in reverence for their martyred saint.

All across her homeland, church-bells sang songs of mourning, calling the faithful to mass and supplicants to kneel at their shrines. All to beg for the soul of the girl who was an icon. 

Inside the coffin, the girl touched the fetter at her wrist and the collar at her neck. 

A smile touched her face. In her ear, she heard a voice whisper.

“Rest well, Sunshine.” The girl’s laugh was a silent one, but it brought mirth to her. She closed her eyes again, and let the darkness carry her down into a world only the Little Prince and she knew. There, she would be home. Orpheus had found her Eurydice. She would strum her lyre and sing sweet songs of the return of a fox-king and a sun-queen. 

Those who heard her song would know of her return, and carry in their breasts the sacredness of such a gospel sung by a girl unto whom death nor the Darkling could touch. 

[emeraldvsociety]

Intro Post!(?)

I caved and made a tumblr 😏 Hey y’all 😏 Welcome to my braindump.

Quick intro:

Pronouns: she/her

Name: Em(?)

90% of what I post on here is probably going to resemble shit-posting because I’m going to be honest—I take myself way too seriously on social media and it’s nice to just let my inner thoughts go crazy. I’m going to post on here like it’s my finsta (minus the thirst traps) (Maybe). I will also probably rarely post on here because idk I don’t know how Tumblr works quite yet, and I don’t want to make a fool out of myself.

Okay if you’re going to read any of these dumb notes read THIS ONE: I am VERY passionate about Domestic Violence Awareness because (spoiler alert) I nearly lost my life to domestic violence (the spoiler is that I lived). As such, I am heavily involved in the DVA community. I meet a lot of people with similar and slightly different stories to my own, and I’ve been exposed to and know plenty about abusive dynamics. My point is, I am not comfortable writing/reading certain relationship dynamics because it makes me uncomfy. I’m more sensitive than most to this type of stuff so please respect that I will not write and actively avoid anything involving ANYTHING that might be seen as a slippery slope toward abuse.

Now, I know fiction is fiction and all that jazz so that being said: I don’t hate it if anyone ships something in the grey area. That’s totally fine! Literally, I do not care. Just please do not ask me to WRITE anything involving boss/employee, teacher/student, officer/subordinate, abuser/victim, huge age gaps, etc. I will actively avoid content like this, and I CAN NOT write it (unless there’s clear commentary that it’s BAD). This doesn’t mean that I can’t interact with people do create it either. If you want to know the specifics of my boundaries feel free to ask. If I could do anything in this world, it would be to purge it of the violence I faced. I can’t do that, but I can put out a creative form that emphasizes that love should never hurt. Minors please DNI. A minor does not need to be interacting with a junior in college working on grad school apps fr.

Requests are welcome! Especially for Dad Harwin and Strong Babies ficlets! However, I will say that I only write one longfic per year and that honor goes to Man on the Moon (and its brewing sequel) so just keep that in mind.

I actively avoided getting into fandoms because… listen y’all… I have been a Star Wars super fan since I was three. I wrote my first SW fanfic when I was like seven (I still have it—I honestly might post it because it’s adorable). My point is though, I KNOW how toxic the SW fandom is, so please do not bring that around me. It just sucks the joy out of me. So if I seem hesitant to engage in the community that is why.

HOWEVER, if you are Team Green, you are more than welcome to spew fictional politics on my posts. It’s part of the reason I love the HOTD fandom. It’s so immersive lmfao. But! I am allowed to attack your fictional politics back. I am literally here to spread Team Black Propaganda!

Something I will not tolerate is ANY FORM OF MISOGYNY. As a lover of women, it is my sworn duty, m’kay? Please respect women. This means ANY type of misogyny. This also applies to biphobia or anything I deem as anti-lesbian.

I am bipolar (2) and my hypomanic episodes really drive my writing up. So if you’re ever like “wow how tf did EmeraldTeller86 manage to write 10k worth of nsfw material” it’s likely because of my hypomania. Anyway! I am medicated and managed so please do not worry. The only side effect of my (hypo)mania is overly wordy pieces. It’s my outlet ig.

I haven’t been writing NSFW pieces for that long so if you’re like “wow this is cringe” y’know I probably somewhat agree. But I’m allowed to be cringe as long as it’s not on the main. Just let me have fun, dammit! I have to be the standard of beauty on the main and live up to impossible expectations so let me be cringe here!

I am a trust fund baby. And while I say that in a “haha you can make fun of me for being a spoiled brat” way, I also want to acknowledge my privilege and just let y’all know that if I do ever say something insensitive let me know! I am a person (despite layers of internet screens and manic tendencies) with empathy. I never want my existence or anything I put into existence to cause harm.

The Slayyter Remix of “Gimme More” describes my life pretty well tbh.

I am mostly in CST, but I'm occasionally in CEST / GMT + 1, and rarely in HKT / UTC + 8.

I’m in my prescribed flop era rn. In active recovery tho. Kind of.

I AM STILL NOT OVER MY CRISTON COLE CRACK FIC BLOWING UP ON TIKTOK LMFAO. Top Ten Funniest Moments of my life.

I love to read! So if you want to send me anything please feel free!

If you know my real name please don’t reveal it 🥴 I don’t want Society to win!

I’m thinking about posting weekly updates (just of life ig? Song of the week, book I’m currently reading, how my writing is going, etc).

Once again, I do not know how Tumblr works so please be patient as I learn the etiquette around these parts.

I'll pin this later if need be. Ig

[greenbagjosh]

Wednesday 30 July 2003 + Thursday 31 July 2003 - flight to Munich - Odeonsplatz - short visit to the Benz museum - random ride to Zinzholz

 Wednesday 30 July 2003 + Thursday 31 July 2003 Good morning!  Here are my first two days of flying to Germany, visiting Munich and Stuttgart.  I visited the Mercedes Benz museum, one last time, before it would be relocated outside the Benz factory.  Eventually I would take the U-Bahn to somewhere a bit far from downtown but still make it back to the hostel. Guten Morgen!  Hier sind meine ersten beiden Flugtage nach Deutschland mit Besuchen in München und Stuttgart. Ich besuchte das Mercedes-Benz-Museum ein letztes Mal, bevor es außerhalb des Benz-Werks verlegt wurde. Irgendwann würde ich mit der U-Bahn an einen etwas weiter entfernten Ort fahren und es trotzdem zurück zum Hostel schaffen. Bonjour! Voici mes deux premiers jours de vol vers l'Allemagne, visitant Munich et Stuttgart. J'ai visité le musée Mercedes Benz, une dernière fois, avant qu'il ne soit déplacé à l'extérieur de l'usine Benz. Finalement, je prendrais le U-Bahn quelque part un peu loin du centre-ville, mais je le ferais quand même revenir à l'auberge. Dobro jutro! Tukaj sta moja prva dva dneva letenja v Nemčijo, obisk Münchna in Stuttgarta. Še zadnjič sem obiskal muzej Mercedes Benz, preden so ga preselili izven tovarne Benz. Sčasoma bi se z U-Bahnom odpeljal nekam nekoliko daleč od središča mesta, a bi se vseeno vrnil v hostel. Dobro jutro! Evo moja prva dva dana leta za Njemačku, posjet Münchenu i Stuttgartu. Posjetio sam Mercedes Benz muzej, posljednji put, prije nego što će biti premješten izvan Benz tvornice. Na kraju bih uzeo U-Bahn negdje malo dalje od centra grada, ali bih se ipak uspio vratiti do hostela. Buongiorno! Ecco i miei primi due giorni di volo in Germania, visitando Monaco e Stoccarda. Ho visitato il museo Mercedes Benz, un'ultima volta, prima che venisse trasferito fuori dalla fabbrica Benz. Alla fine avrei preso la U-Bahn in un posto un po' lontano dal centro, ma sarei comunque tornato all'ostello. Today 20 years ago, I would fly to Munich through Washington Dulles, on United Airlines.  I flew out of the United Airlines domestic Terminal 3.  I had my Aiwa HS-JS 479 that I bought in Summer 1999, and many blank cassettes.   The flight from San Francisco to Washington Dulles seemed like many I had already been on, namely about 2,400 miles.  I decided not to use my miles to upgrade.  I had already earned some in July when I had gone on a business journey to Las Vegas.  I don't think I did much at Dulles, other than walk up and down terminals C and D.  I did not go to terminals A or B until years later.   I flew from Dulles airport to Munich Franz Josef Strauß.  The difference was, by about 5 AM, the sky started to get bright and the sun was up by 5:30 AM.  The flight arrived about 6:55 AM.  I had to go through customs and I had my passport stamped similar to the one that I received on 28th December 2001 when I also landed at Franz Josef Strauß.  I picked up my checked bag, the rolling green one I used in November 2002.  I had a backpack, far smaller than the one I now carry. I walked from the airport terminal to the S-Bahn station.  I had my Eurail pass validated, so I did not need to buy a separate ticket for the S-Bahn into town.  I noticed that the S Bahn I was riding sounded just like the ones that I rode in Frankfurt am Main, as opposed to the previous times I was in Munich and Stuttgart.  They accelerated and braked the same, just the sound was more like that of the Frankfurt am Main S Bahn trains.  Yet it was still a DB ET423 train.  The train went underground at Ismaning and again at Unterföhring, but came back up for Johanniskirchen to Leuchtenbergring and München Ost, before going to München Hbf.  I alighted at München Hbf, remembering to exit on the right as opposed to the left for those boarding.   At Hauptbahnhof, I put my rolling suitcase in a locker.  Then I bought a day pass for the U Bahn, being careful not to stay too long, as I had to catch the train to Stuttgart.  I took the U4/U5 to Odeonsplatz, where I changed to the U3/U6, and went to Münchner Freiheit, and walked south to my bank, where they had a new cash card waiting for me, as I had plans to make a will call pickup.  I received my new card, then went to Odeonsplatz and the Feldherrnhalle.  It was a 19th-century, Italianate monument to the Bavarian army & the site of Hitler's 1923 Beer Hall Putsch.  The Hofgarten was to the east.  I took the U Bahn back to Hbf, fetched my rolling suitcase and then boarded the ICE train to Stuttgart Hbf. The train was a nice ICE 2nd generation train.  I was in the first class car.  The train stopped at Augsburg, Ulm, pased through Amstetten, Geislingen, Göppingen, Plochingen, Esslingen and Bad Cannstatt.  My youth hostel was along the U-15 route, but at the time, it was operated by GT-4 vehicles used as early as the 1960s, not the DT-8s used since the 1980s.  The U-15 at the time, was just streetcar line 15. You may think, that a special platform for the GT-4s was built for Hbf and just about every U-Bahn station underground, but this is not the case.  It used to be, that the low platforms were the norm in the 1970s when the GT-4s were the only trains in service at the time, and gradually high floors were created for the DT-8s, so that they would not have to use their folding steps.  In 2022 when I last visited, almost all U Bahns had withdrawn the GT-4s, almost all stations had removed their low floor platforms, except a few for the exhibition tram that operates at least every Sunday between the Straßenbahnmuseum in Bad Cannstatt, and Ruhbank, which today still is mostly part of U-15.  Charlottenplatz and Schloßplatz retain their low floor platforms for the GT-4s in both directions.  Also, on 31st July 2003, Bad Cannstatt still had their low floor platforms, they had not yet upgraded to the high floor platforms, which I was able to notice in February 2012 and February 2022 when I returned. I took the line 15 to Eugensplatz.  I would have to step down from the tram as it was not without steps.  I had to also walk a few hundred meters down a ramp to the hostel.  On my visit in 2007 there was an elevator added, but not yet in 2003.  I checked in for one night there, left my bag in a four bed room, then took the line 15 back to Hbf, and took an S Bahn to Untertürkheim.  The walk to the Mercedes Benz museum was a bit long, the same one I also did on Saturday 2nd August 1997.  It was like not having been there for six years.  There was a place just outside the Mercedes Benz factory where there was a bus stop for the free shuttle into the museum.  The museum was not particularly big, but in the 2000s, the factory moved into its own location, and by comparison, had become massive.  The collection in 2003 was similar to that of 1997, but there was a new model added, the Vaneo.  In April 2005 I would drive a Vaneo as a rental car, complete with 5 speed manual, air conditioning, CD radio and diesel engine.  I spent an hour there before the museum closed.  Everyone had to leave by bus.  I had to find an U Bahn to downtown, but I walked to the S Bahn station instead.   At Untertürkheim, I took the S-Bahn to Rotebühlplatz.  I found the Döner Kebab place, where I remember ordering a lahmacun at 6 AM on 8th September 2000, which can only be done in Stuttgart as far as I know.  I walked between there and Schloßplatz, and farther along to Hbf.  I took a U-14 from there to Bad Cannstatt, and ordered a Döner Kebab.  I still the paper it was served in, had a picture of a Döner Kebab salesman complete with a moustache, and the words "Afiyet Olsun!", meaning "bon appetit" or so.   I also rode the U-7 to Zinzholz, past Ruhbank where the U-7 meets the line 15.  and it went underground at least twice.  Many of the stations are in open cuts and the tunnel sections are short enough for one station to be underground and the next one to be in an open cut. Eventually I became tired and went back to the hostel, changing at Ruhbank, and slept.  At some stage, I listened to 102.3 FM, which was the American Forces Network Radio.  I listened to some music in German as well.   The next day I would take the train to Zürich, then cross the Röstigraben at Biel/Bienne for Montreux.  I had a short visit also in Geneva.  I would be ready for the Lake Parade the following day.  Until then, good night! Am nächsten Tag würde ich mit dem Zug nach Zürich fahren und dann bei Biel/Bienne den Röstigraben nach Montreux überqueren. Ich hatte auch einen kurzen Besuch in Genf. Am nächsten Tag würde ich für die Lake Parade bereit sein. Bis dahin, gute Nacht! Le lendemain, je prendrais le train pour Zürich, puis je traverserais le Röstigraben à Biel/Bienne pour Montreux. J'ai eu une courte visite aussi à Genève. Je serais prêt pour la Lake Parade le lendemain. Jusque-là, bonne nuit ! Naslednji dan bi šel z vlakom v Zürich, nato pa prečkal Röstigraben pri Biel/Bienne za Montreux. Imel sem kratek obisk tudi v Ženevi. Naslednji dan bi bil pripravljen na jezersko parado. Do takrat pa lahko noč! Sljedećeg bih dana uzeo vlak za Zürich, zatim prešao Röstigraben u Biel/Bienneu za Montreux. Imao sam i kratku posjetu Ženevi. Bio bih spreman za Lake Parade sljedeći dan. Do tada, laku noć! Il giorno dopo prendevo il treno per Zurigo, poi attraversavo il Röstigraben a Biel/Bienne per Montreux. Ho avuto una breve visita anche a Ginevra. Sarei stato pronto per la Lake Parade il giorno seguente. Fino ad allora, buona notte!

[docholligay]

HanaxBrigitte, cuddling in morning's first light

1050 words

The sun came up far too early for Dva’s liking. Maybe it was just the placement of her apartment, with nothing but a giant park to block the sunrise as it peeked through a window and burst into her bedroom.

Well, not burst. Crept, more like.

Pharah had everything happen too damn early in the morning for bursting to be an option. Hana laid against Brigitte’s shoulder sleepily as she watched the minutes she had left in bed tick away, the morning lurking for the moment. Soon she’d have to leave the warm softness of her fiancee (Fiancee, what a terrifying and brilliant word) and the comfort of their bed, with its matching Swedish down duvets, which was as close as Tobjorn got to saying he approved, and their matching flannel duvet covers, which was as close as her mother got to saying ‘it’s about time you found someone.’ But the sun crept over the green even still.

Well, not crept. Hid, more like, and didn’t show its face at all, because it was London. She looked over her shoulder to the clock behind her helpfully displaying the time, date, and weather. Seven degrees. 82% humidity. 91% chance of rain.

“Ugh,” she buried her head back into Brigitte’s neck. “It’s gonna be fucking freezing. Why does Fareeha want to leave the house today, isn’t she supposed to be a desert person?”

No one answered her as to Pharah’s inconsistency with her own heritage, and so Dva rolled out of bed--even her apartment was already cold--and flung open the little closet, remembering that they had a meeting with the French ambassador today and so she had to wear her uniform instead of the fuzzy sweater she’d gotten for Christmas.

She sighed heavily as she looked the piece options on its designated, pressed spot on the rack. Mostly she wore the skirt with her uniform, but the heavy lead of the morning outside her window convinced her differently. Someday, when Pharah was less touchy about the whole thing, she was going to redesign the dress uniform to suit someone who liked a fememine touch a little better. She and Tracer had been the only consulting authorities, and it showed. Creased wool pants and a white collared shirt, thick military wool sweater and her neatly pressed jacket. Even putting her hair in a bun she’d look like Eleanor Roosevelt’s lover.

At least it was tailored to look decent on a short person, she thought.

“God, I don’t want to go in today.” She said it to the open air, to the cold, to the London drizzle, to her cold laminate floor.

But it was Brigitte who answered.

“You probably should have thought of that before you volunteered to be Commander.” Came the rumble form under the covers.

Dva whipped around, buttoning up her shirt, a playful scowl already on her face. “I didn’t volunteer! Lena just told me I was doing it, basically.”

“You could have said no, Hana.” Syrup-gold eyes peeked from under the duvet.

“She was incredibly insistent” Dva pulled her sweater over her shirt and yanked it down,.”Also, she was dying and wouldn’t stop telling me that, while she kept telling me to do it. It was like a battlefield last wish thing.”

“Didn’t she live for months after that?”

“Listen!” Dva leapt on the bed and hit her in the face with a pillow. Brigitte laughed, catching it and clinging it to her body, as Dva grinned, “Okay, so she was also eating a ham sandwich at the time, but you’ll have to trust me when I say it caught me out of nowhere.”

“Guess you’re stuck now.” Brigitte stroked back Dva’s hair, “And what a shame. Mercy told us not to come in until ten.”

Dva leaned toward her. “I should have signed up with medical. Fucking Lena.”

Brigitte giggled and pulled her close, kissing her, before Dva jumped off and sprung to the mirror, twisting her hair in a tight bun at the back of her head. Pharah had the handbook committed to memory, and while she tried to remember that she did not outrank Dva, tried was the operative word there, so Dva was generous enough to have her hair as boring as humanly possible on meeting days.

“I should make French toast.” Brigitte was looking her phone, reading the paper, her tortoiseshell glasses framing her wide eyes perfectly.

“Okay,” Dva grabbed the blazer from her closet, “Now you’re just being mean. You know,” she grinned, “when I marry you I’m gonna expect a little more service. Since I’m the superior officer.”

“Oh, is that how it works now?” Brigitte looked up. “I have to be…obedient to my Commander? Is that a direct order?”

“Straight from the top.” Dva sat by Brigitte on the edge of the bed. “So you think about that. It’s in the handbook.”

Brigitte sat up, hair falling like a waterfall over her shoulder. She was beautiful in a way that Dva thought was hard to describe to others. She wasn’t delicate, or supermodel-like. She was beautiful in a way that seemed hum straight through from the middle of the earth, nothing ethereal but something grounded and fully understandable and more beautiful for that. She wasn’t the passing beauty of a flower, but the earthy richness of a wet field.

Admittedly, not that poetic, but she felt it all the same. She kissed Brigitte, and the alarm on her wristwatch went off.

“God.” She got to her feet, still standing by the bed.

“Lena was right about one thing, though.” Brigitte pushed back her hair.

“That Fareeha needs to take a fucking Xanax like, at least half the time?” she brushed off the front of her jacket.

“No. I mean, yes, that also, but--you’re really good at your job, Commander Song.” She tugged on the edges of her blazer, “and I love a woman in uniform.”

“You’re going to make me late, you know.” She kissed Brigitte again, “Fareeha’s not going to like that.”

“What’s she going to do, court-martial me?” Brigitte giggled warmly.

“Probably, yeah.”

“Let her. Send me to the brig.” She pulled Dva into bed with her, flipping her easily over and covering her with kisses.

Dva pulled her hair free from the bun. Let France wait.

[kabukiaku]

some cute sketches today (◔ᴗ◔) I’ll soon color these

[yinxiong]

the ultimate tag!

tagged by @cinanamon 💞

tagging @taeyongtime @amaixiaojun @gohyuck @lumarkle (and maybe @luvdsc​ ik we’re not mutuals but i kinda would love to be ahahaha)

rules: answer whichever ones you want to because there are a lot and then tag a few blogs you’d like to get to know better!

-

personal

name | jessica (yee that’s my real name)

nickname | any variation of jess/jessi/jessie, akame lol

birthday | june 6th

zodiac | gemini (i know so little astrology kill me)

nationality | american oof

languages | english, chinese (fluent but working on it)

gender | female

sexuality | lol probably bi

height | 5′4

blog stuff

inspiration for muse | uhhh i mean i started this blog as a place to write 100 word drabbles for vixx (inspired by @demosoneiroivixx​) and when i got into nct, i started writing longer fics to improve on my writing? now i’m inspired by more groups too ,,, also an aesthetics blog at some point but i’m not really sure what we’ve become now lmao

meaning behind my url | yinxiong is (almost) the pinyin for 英雄 (the real url isn’t available rip but this looks better anyways), which means hero and is the hanja name for nct127′s kick it lmao

blog established | oh man like january 2016 apparently

followers | 576 atm lol rip

favorites

favourite animals | fox, cat, dolphin

favourite books | love looks pretty on you (poetry), kafka on the shore, six of crows, the lunar chronicles (oh man i don’t read enough)

favourite colour | red and blue most (but i honestly love every color)

favourite fictional characters | hiccup + astrid (how to train your dragon), ling yao + lan fan + riza hawkeye (fullmetal alchemist), dmitry + anya (anastasia), sombra + dva (overwatch)

favourite flower | peony, magnolia, sunflower

favourite scent | citrus, green tea, mango, mint

favourite season | summer

random

average hours of sleep | 6-7 probably lol

cats or dogs | omg ofc cats 😻

coffee, tea or hot chocolate | tea!

current time | 10:01 p.m.

dream trip | complete asia tour with friends 💞

dream job | author, artist of some sort? lowkey still want to be an architect but that’s definitely not happening lmao

hobbies | writing, drawing, piano, doing my makeup for no reason, making gifs now ig

hogwarts house | ravenclaw

last movie watched | crazy rich asians bc reference lmao

last song listened to | aloha (covered by nflying)

no. of blankets you sleep with | one (1)

random fact(s) | uhhHHhhHhh i’m currently working for uchicago admissions, my right hand pinkie is crooked bc it fractured and didn’t heal properly, i recently started learning ballroom (before quarantine booted me off of campus lol)

[cosplayinamerica]

Jolyne Kujo from Jojo Bizarre Adventure // Cosplayer : Chaotic Charisma // Photo : kirakichou

Personally I love Jojo and especially love cosplaying the various recolors and outfits there are of the characters. Jolyne is one of my favorite characters in JJBA, from her personality and arc in Stone Ocean (pt. 6) and just her aesthetic too.  Not to mention she’d been a cosplan of mine since 2016 and it was only this year that I felt confident enough to try and cosplay her. For Kumoricon specifically, I had previously done a different color of hers at a con a few months prior so I wanted to bring something new that wouldn’t take too much time but also I’d have fun it with friends.

When I did her ‘canon’ outfit I had a lot of fabric leftover which allowed me to make a second one, only more of my design.  I had previously done five other versions of Jolyne this year before Kumoricon and I wanted to do something different this time around. I specifically wanted to involve discs (a nod to the manga) and butterflies into the design as well so I decided to make my own variation of her costume (although it was also an excuse to rhinestone the hell out of it too). Most of the materials were things I had lying around from previous costumes, rhinestones from my Giorno cosplay, and old DVA and Miku wig, vinyl from my Ferry cosplay, and some old discs I had lying around. I had really wanted to make a blue version of her wig, making it the fourth one I’ve made, and the rest of the outfit fit around it, at least color scheme wise! If I’m being honest, she isn’t at all done yet, I still have to rhinestone the lines, add my LED butterfly wing harness, and finish the wig among a few things. Hopefully, I’ll have her completely done by Sakuracon 2020!

There are certainly a few stories I have as Jolyne. I got a lot of Jojo references thrown my way, be it when getting a picture was taken, in a line, or yelled from across the dealer’s hall. I had a lot of really nice conversations with people about my cosplay and the manga itself. Someone asked if I was from Monster High or if I was Killer Frost which was pretty great. Oh and a LOT of people asked if I could step on them, that was pretty fun.

Photo: sofresh_photos

Cosplay has become one of the pillars of my life. I can’t honestly see my life without it in some way or fashion. This was my sixth year cosplaying, having started when I was around 12 and I don’t see myself stopping anytime soon. I’ve met so many amazing, talented, and wonderful people throughout my years cosplaying both online and in real life. There are people who I would never have dreamed of calling my friends who are now people I can’t imagine not knowing. The cosplay community has grown alongside me as I’ve gotten older and while it does have its ups and downs I think it’s made me a better person. I’ve learned to be more confident and to be more assertive not just in the cosplay world but also in real life. It helped with my self-esteem and is my de-stressor in life, it keeps me grounded even if I’m covered in green paint or wearing bright pink wig. I’ve also gained a lot of skills and learned a lot from cosplay. From patience, diligence, and not to procrastinate to avoid con-crunch; money and time management; photography, editing, and social media in general; and of course wig/hairstyling, makeup, and sewing.

Cosplay is what connects me to others. The majority of my friends are cosplayers, we bond over shared cosplays, interests, and the process of it. Whether they do competitions, are tik tokers, big accounts or small, buy or make, specialize in wigs or costumes or makeup, young or old, those who live ten minutes away to people all the way on the other side of the planet,  at the end of the day it doesn’t matter which category they fall under, we are all nerdy, geeky people who like to dress up. Cosplay is amazing, the people and connections you make, the memories you gain, and the amount you can have is something I would never trade for.

Kumoricon is a big con in a big space but still maintains its small con atmosphere. It’s the kind of con where everyone knows each other. And while you may only cross paths with each other once or twice or maybe not at all there are people who will come to your aid if you ever need anything. One could describe it as a hangout convention, where you talk with friends, do photos, and explore for the entire event without even realizing the con is already over. It’s not for everyone but for me, being able to talk with friends and hang with people I hadn’t seen in months or meeting for the first time ever, that’s something I always look forward to at cons.

https://linktr.ee/chaotic_charisma

[cat-prisun]

mercy anon! um i started playing mccree now and i can’t aim for the life of me nor am i any good but im gay, a cowboy and have a green poncho so it all works out

ur almost following the same pattern i did except in reverse fjjdkdj. i started playing mccree as my main dps and then mercy as my main healer. i almost have as many hours on mccree as dva now dhdkskdk.

and as someone with 30+ hours as mccree: if ur aim sucks now it’s only gonna get a lil bit better. but that’s ok but as long as you hold down the shoot button and aim at the other team you should be fine. if you’re fighting someone by yourself flashbang and fan the hammer. also when you ult stand out of view and then walk around a corner or to the edge of a ledge so you don’t get shot down because you’re an obvious glowing slow moving cowboy

anyways!! yes gay cowboy rights. his royal skin is 👌👌 for an rare skin

[riversidearchives]

The New Year’s midnight log entry on a Coast Guard vessel is traditionally written as a poem. In 1991, the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Hamilton, stationed in Boston, Massachusetts since it was first commissioned, was moving port to Long Beach, California! To get to the West Coast, the Cutter Hamilton had to travel through the Panama Canal. The poem describes the crew’s anticipation of the coming year, and their sadness at leaving “Bean Town” behind.

“Moored with my starboard side to pier number two bravo I do lie. With six strong mooring lines my outstanding deck crew did tie. With life’s shore connections of electric, water waste, and telephone service. I’ll give my best to the crew who is the Coast Guard service. For the crew about the deck my lights burn brightly. And above for warning those aircraft that fly around so lightly. My OPCON and ADCON are from the great COMLANT area, their directions I have never taken light. Being the first of my class and dressed in white I must stand out ever so bright. At Support Center Boston with cutters White Heath, Pendant, and Legare we are all snuggly moored by our supporting command. Cutter Escanaba as my guardship near by a green and white SOPA pennant I do fly for all to know I’m the ship in command. My Officer of the Day Chief Warrant Officer Mattoon, like me he is up before the sun and writes this entry by the light of the New Year’s moon. In my last New Year in this historic place of old Boston town. I have twenty-five years of reasons to be proud and yet I’m feeling down. I will be making my way down the coast across the bright blue Caribbean and on through the Panama Canal. Where the earth shakes and the sun is just right, to a new home for me called Long Beach, Cal. Old Ironsides across the bay I’m going to miss the boom of those mighty cannons twice a day. You have let me know when to hoist the flag, and take it down, oh how I will envy you for in Boston you will always stay. So all you sailors of old have no fear when I leave Bean Town I’ll take with me many fond New England memories. With this my last New England New Year’s verse I bring to you a new class of ships called two-seven-tees. There [sic] here to help you now and never let you down. Treat them good and show them your hospitality of old Bean Town.”  

While not available yet in the catalog, keep an eye out for it in our “What’s New in the Catalog” posting.

On August 9, 2019, the National Archives and the Department of Veterans Affairs (DVA) entered into an agreement that will digitize more than 20 million pages of Vietnam-era U.S. Navy Deck Logs and U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Logs. This project is driven by the Blue Water Navy Vietnam Veterans Act of 2019 and is expected to be completed by February 1, 2020.  Data contained in the digitized images will be used by the DVA to assist in determining Veteran’s eligibility for benefits and to resolve claims filed with the Veterans Benefits Administration (VBA).

During the digitization process, U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Logs for the time period of 1960-1975 will be housed at an offsite scanning facility and will be unavailable for use at the National Archives at Riverside. Please accept our sincere apologies for any inconvenience that may result while these records are temporarily unavailable. The status of the records availability can be found here.

Once the project is complete, the digitized images will be available in the National Archives Catalog. We appreciate your patience and support during this collaborative digitization effort that will allow the National Archives and the DVA to better serve our nation’s Veterans and their families.

[verai-marcel]

Steal A Moment With You (RDR2 Fanfic, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: You're a great lady thief, with fingers dexterous enough to steal the pants off a man. And if that didn't work, you always had your charm. But at a fancy soiree, you finally meet your match: an outlaw who could charm the dress off you.

Author’s Notes: I hadn't written anything at the Mayor's party yet, so @dva-xo's request was the perfect opportunity to do so.

Tags: medium honor Arthur, female reader, seduction, dirty talk, D/s, gentle dom Arthur, sexy times, please don’t read this if you’re a minor, if I find you’re a minor and following my blog, I’ll have to block you :(

Also find it on AO3 here.

It was amazing what a new dress and a few well spoken complements could get you. Over the course of the past week, you had acquired an invite to the Mayor’s party, and it was happening tonight. You could see the garden was filled to the brim with society’s richest folks, and that meant money. Billfolds galore. Your eyes wandered around as you flitted between groups. You chatted amiably about one's health and the weather, the two most innocuous topics that kept these dullards speaking about themselves long enough that you could excuse yourself and find another fool to “bump into” without being noticed.

You looked up at the balcony of the mansion and noticed some men smoking cigars and laughing jovially with the snake, Bronte.

Well, well, what do we have here? Three snacks and a meal. Must be some rich folk.

Observing each one in turn, one of them had caught your eye. He grabbed a man’s arm to light his cigar, and puffed, a satisfied look on his face. That dominant move had you interested despite your usual nonchalance about men. He looked a bit rough around the edges, even with his nice suit and cut hair. In fact, so did the other three men with him.

Interesting.

Thinking that maybe they were nouveau riche, and thus, naive about parties like these, you decided to keep an eye out for them, to see if there were any opportunities to pickpocket them. As you strolled around the party, pocketing cufflinks and the occasional billfold here and there, you kept spotting the one man, saving someone from choking to death (should’ve let him choke, you thought), complimenting someone’s clothing awkwardly, and helping to pour some drinks.

And while the fireworks went off in the sky, you noticed him start to trail a servant towards the house.

Definitely interesting.

You made your excuses to some old man you were talking to and gracefully walked away to start following the mystery man. Quietly through the house, you made your way up the stairs after him, trailing far enough behind that if a servant spotted you, you could make up an excuse about being lost and looking for a restroom. As you reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner, you heard his footsteps and quickly put yourself in his path.

He was bigger than you realized, and you ran right into his broad chest. His hands immediately came up to your shoulders to steady you, and while you reached around his waistcoat with one hand, you distracted him by pushing your bosom against him and splaying your other hand against his chest, feeling the muscles underneath the suit.

“I'm so sorry, sir,” you said, slurring your words a bit for effect. “I'm a bit lost.” You looked up at him with your doe eyes and shy smile. Men always fell for the helpless damsel bit.

“Not a problem, miss,” he drawled, and his eyes wandered down, taking in your low neckline, the white frills of your sleeveless evening dress that accentuated your bust. His hands were warm against your bare skin, and he gripped you a little tighter as he took an extra moment to look at your exposed skin.

Then his hand shot down to grab your wrist. Your fingers had almost plucked the paper from his pocket; you had been so close.

“Nice try, princess,” he rumbled in your ear. “I know your type.”

Your eyes immediately sharpened. He definitely had a background in thievery. Your smile faltered as he smiled knowingly at you, the glimmer in his blue-green eyes making your heart beat harder. That wasn't fair at all, you thought.

You both turned towards the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Not letting go of your wrist, he quickly pulled you down the hall towards a row of rooms. Picking one at random, he shoved you inside and quietly closed the door. The sound of a lock echoed in the darkness.

He pulled out a small pack of matches and lit one to look around. It was a small guest bedroom, with a lantern on the nightstand near the bed. He crossed the room and lit the lantern, the glow making everything look soft and dim.

Would be almost romantic if I wasn't in this mess, you mused as you turned around and put your ear to the door, trying to listen for steps.

Then you felt the mystery man’s arms brace on either side of you as he too, put his ear to the door. With his chest so close against your back, you felt heat pool in your belly. The physicality of him was something you were not expecting to have so close to you, and you didn’t anticipate your body’s response to him. It was hard to hear anything past the beating of your own heart.

“Sounds a little busy out there. Looks like we'll have to wait.”

His voice was low in your ear, almost vibrating through your head. You turned your head to look at him. The lazy smile he had on when he first caught you had returned. He took a small step back from you and lowered his arms.

“Now, what am I gonna do wit’ you? Tryin’ to steal from me? I think I'm entitled to some retribution.”

You stared hard at him.

He held up his hands. “Now now, I ain't like that. You must've pickpocketed some of those fine folk downstairs. Just share some with me and I'll forget all about you.”

“Is there something else I can give you?” you asked without thinking. You didn't want to give up what meager take you had tonight. But you hadn’t expected yourself to just offer something else, and neither did he. But you immediately noticed the change in him, because the look in his eyes turned hungry.

“I don't think it's something you want to give me, princess.”

Turning to face him, you realized that you may have made a mistake in asking. Now he was looking at you with an animal magnetism that you couldn't resist; you wanted to touch him, to feel that thrill of being so close to something so dangerous. Your breath caught, your body moved forward on its own. Placing a tentative hand on his chest, you leaned closer and whispered, “Tell me, sir. What do you want from me?”

He stepped forward, forcing you up against the door. You could feel how hard he was against you, feel the heat from his hands as he caressed your cheek and held your hip.

“I want,” he breathed into your ear, “your complete and utter obedience when I shove myself deep inside you.”

You moaned.

“And as I'm taking you, I want to hear how much of a whore you are for me.”

Swallowing hard, you couldn't help your body tensing, yearning to submit fully to this man; there was something so untamed about him, and you felt an urge to just roll over and let him have you. You had never been like this before. What was it with his enthralling gaze that enticed you so?

Then he stepped away, leaving you some space to breathe, to think, but it was hard to stay objective when he smelled of forest air and tobacco, and you wanted to wrap yourself up in his scent tonight.

“Up to you. Or we just wait and sneak outta here at the next opportunity.”

He took another two steps back, but his eyes still held yours captive. As if he was pulling you by an invisible leash, you moved towards him. He held out his arms as one would to coax a frightened animal, and his hushed, encouraging murmurs were so tempting to your ears.

“Come closer if you want this,” he crooned. He kept moving backwards, towards the bed, and you kept following him like a fool, desperate for the promise in his eyes. It was a promise of sweet pleasure and mind-numbing bliss, and you wanted all of it.

He stopped just short of the bed, and you reached out for him. Taking your outstretched hand, he pulled you into his arms and leaned his head down, lips almost on yours. Almost.

“You givin’ in, princess?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “All in.”

He finally kissed you, and every kiss you had ever experienced was washed away in the passionate wave of desire that crashed through you as he devoured your lips. He held you close, running his hands up and down your curves. Touching the top of your dress, he slid it off your shoulders, expertly undoing every bow, every button, everything that was in the way of touching your bare skin with his hands. Soon, you were nude before him, regretting nothing.

He sat down on the bed, and you straddled his lap, holding onto his shoulders for balance. His hands massaged your ass, then moved up to rub your back. It felt so good that you moaned, rubbing your chest against his face. Capturing a nipple with his mouth, he sucked and teased you, all the while setting you ablaze with his touch.

Taking you by your hips, he guided you off his lap and onto your knees before him. Taking your hands, he kissed them each and placed them on the fly of his pants.

“Please me, darlin’.”

You got to unbuttoning his pants, reaching in to pull him free so you could start stroking him gently. He hissed at your touch, and his hips twitched upwards.

“Use your mouth,” he ordered. You blinked. You had never done that before, so you hesitated. His hand was on the back of your neck, rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“Just take in a little at a time,” he gently instructed, and you cautiously sucked on the tip of him, before slowly taking in more and more into your mouth. His encouraging murmurs guided you to use your tongue, to change the angle of your head, to let him grasp the back of your head and move you, letting him take control.

“You're doing so good,” he said, his voice rough and low. “Come back up here and ride me.”

You straddled him again and slowly lowered yourself into his hard shaft. He was thick and long, and it burned while he stretched you. Reaching down to touch your clit, he licked your nipple, keeping you distracted with his expert tongue while you sunk down, sighing in satisfaction when you were filled fully.

He then grabbed your ass and squeezed. “Go on,” he whispered. You did as he ordered, moving up and down on his, grinding and undulating your hips just to see his eyes roll back with pleasure. His low moans were music to your ears as you kissed him, drinking in his every touch like a thirsty woman and he was a goddamn oasis.

Just as you were about to reach your peak, he lifted you up and rolled both of you over so he was on top of you on the bed. He pulled out and slapped your clit with his cock. You squealed at the sudden sensation, so he did it a few more times, making you squirm.

“Why don't you take your clothes off?” you asked him.

“You don't like what I'm wearin’?”

“I do…” you trailed off.

“Then just enjoy it,” he said with a finality to his tone. He thrust back inside you in case you were going to ask again, and picking you up by your hips, took you voraciously. Watching him above you, his muscles bulging under his suit as he effortlessly held you while rolling his hips, giving you the strongest fuck of your life, was an amazingly heady feeling.

He then fell upon you, his scent surrounding you as he held you in his arms and kissed you.

“I lied,” he breathed as he pounded into you. “I'd never forget you. You feel like heaven.”

Then he reached down and thumbed your clit in just the right way, throwing you off the cliff of bliss. Combined with him leaning over you and growling into your ear, his other hand gripping your hip tighter, you came so hard you saw stars, the pleasure pulsating through your body like an electric current.

He kept moving as you rode out your climax, until you were almost limp. Then he pulled out of you and crawled up to level his cock with your mouth.

“Swallow my spend, princess.”

You opened your mouth and let him finish inside, drinking him in. It was bitter, salty, and smelled of his musk. It was not entirely unpleasant, and not something you were familiar with tasting. But the smile he gave you as you licked him clean was priceless.

He helped you clean up and get dressed once more. By now, you thought it would be clear enough for the two of you to sneak out. Your hair was mussed, but you just quickly tied it up in an informal bun, and together the two of you quietly opened the door and got out of the mansion together.

“See you around?” you said jokingly.

“Maybe. Hopefully,” he answered, winking at you before walking off in the opposite direction. You watched him saunter away, enjoying the sway of his gait as he moved. It was almost a damn pleasure watching him walk.

Then you casually walked towards the back of the garden where no one was watching, and found a gate to exit. As you got onto the main street and headed towards your temporary home in the city, you reached into your pockets to make sure everything you had stolen was still there.

You noted that your kerchief, the one you had embroidered with your initials, was gone. In its place, was a black one. It was the one that had been in his pocket. You smiled. That bastard.

***

“What took you so long, Morgan?”

“Just took a while to get out of there without getting caught,” Arthur grumbled. He followed behind the others to the coach. He briefly reached into his pocket to touch the kerchief he pickpocketed, and smiled to himself.

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

End Notes: Hope ya’ll enjoyed this! It started off low honor Arthur, and he slowly regained some honor along the way.

[fisherrprince]

What do you think lloyd's power would do in fusion? I always thought of it as pure energy but i don't think that has much fusion ability. There is always the theory its connected to life though...

SO I HAVE THIS HEADCANON. (laugh track)

Lloyd’s power is basically All Things. It’s everything but condensed into a purer form (that… happens to be green. The golden power is that but like, Actually. Green is more passive, gold is super active). That’s the offensive portion, there, here’s the fun bit: he’s basically those power boosts that you can pick up off the ground in fps games. He’s a buffer, and everyone else’s powers went away when he was possessed because of two reasons. 1) connected to the golden power thing. The four main elements comprise it, feed off of it, are it, and it’s still controlled by him. Think of it like a parent peg, if you’ve ever worked in AE or toon boom. You can’t do what they layers do on the peg. You can hide the individual layers, and they all have their own properties, but if you hide the peg, all the layers beneath it disappear too. 2) it’s like getting water from a drinking fountain every day and then one day the water fountain is gone and you step up to it and instead of giving you water, it takes your water bottle. Does that make sense? They’re drawing on what’s halfway controlled by Lloyd and so when he’s controlled by something else, that something else grabs hold of all four of the reins. I’m not sure I’m making sense, but that’s the way I can think to describe it.

so in FUSION, which I’m going to go not the su way but the plot-consistent way (holding hands like fusion dragon dancing), he would basically make it just More. Like a LOT more. Beyond dragons (which, I think, would be like mega evolving your elemental dragon). You got a fireball, have Lloyd channel the power of energy through your own power and now you have a miniature sun on your hands. One lightning bolt is weak, amp it up (hahAH) to about 30. Snowstorm? Blizzard. Light breeze…? wind tunnel. That’s how Morro was so op. Just like… a lot. and this doesn’t take away from him!! Actually when he chooses to do it it gives him energy too, like a multiplier! He’s like a perpetual motion machine, but not on his own, because there’s a finite supply from like, air or plants or whatever. Though plants have the perpetual motion machine effect too, just slightly smaller (they don’t do much). Using it on Nya lets him feel what she feels when she uses her Water Powers, which is a) powerful and b) really flowy and able to pivot on a point and turn the tides whenever she wants because that’s just how this stuff Rolls. It’s cool.

I don’t know what would happen if everyone held hands at once and made a big Family Friendship Beam. idk carebears? end of gotg? who knows. You don’t have to hold hands the whole time, you can just brush by or be in his vicinity, but it’s not quite as strong an effect.

(This is ALSO why Mystake needed some of everyone’s power to stop him from dying, and why Garmadon’s destructo-fire caused such a weird reaction. It’s like the opposite of his — it takes energy and doesn’t give back equally, it’s like poison that only works if you punch someone and then it just steals your lungs as retaliation.)

So what I’m saying is *DVA voice* nerf THIS

[nerdy-bookworm-1998]

Scorpia part 7

Words: 911 Warnings: Swearing A/N: If you wish to be tagged in future chapters/works feel free to send me an ask. Please leave feedback/reblogs. Feel free to check out my Ko-Fi/Patreon, links are in my bio

It's much later that evening with everyone sitting in the common room, each nursing a drink and an ice pack, that I finally reveal my story.

"While I was staying in Brazil I ran into this guy named Remmy Vasquez. He calls himself The Rat. He's the head of the Brazillian mafia with ties to almost every country and criminal organization in the world, including Hydra. I caught his attention about half a year after I moved there, and not in a good way," I explain quietly.

"What did you do?" Steve asks kindly, shifting forward in his seat.

"I blew up a few factories and warehouses holding enough weapons and ammo to take down a third-world country and freed the women and children they were using as slaves," I shrug before being reminded of my tweaked shoulder as it sends a stab of pain down my arm.

"What I didn't know was that the cameras on the buildings continuously uploaded their feeds to a cloud server, meaning he knew exactly what I looked like and how I operated. He invited me for a little chat to offer me a place in his ranks, or the Race, as he calls it. When I declined he told me to take some more time to think it over, that sooner or later I would join. I laughed then walked away. A few months later Clint and Nat show up on my doorstep asking me to help them take out a cartel dealing in trafficking enhanced individuals." The room is silent enough to hear a pin drop.

"Woah, hold up. Do you mean to tell me all of this is connected? That you getting attacked, the proposition from Anton, finding Chase, who I never liked, by the way, is all connected to this Remmy guy?! Why didn't you ever tell me?" Clint rants as he paces up and down the room, running his hands through his hair in irritation.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think that it was important. Besides, you've had more than enough on your plate the last few years, I didn't want to add my problems on top of that," I plant myself in my brother's path and grab onto his arms, trying to get him to understand.

"That's what family is for kiddo; sharing each other's problems so that you don't have to go through it alone. Fuck knows I've dropped enough of my issues on your shoulders throughout the years that you should have been able to come to me with this and a whole lot more," Clint is still visibly upset but his eyes are softer now as he pulls me into a tight hug. "No more secrets," he whispers to me.

"No more secrets," I whisper back as I feel Nat come up behind me and wrap her arms around both me and my brother in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

"Moi dva idiota," Nat says with a smile as she lets us go. I catch Bucky's eye in time to see him biting the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing.

"I would say that this constant switching to other languages so that we can't understand you is annoying, but I'm used to it by now. So instead I will say that this ratatouille guy messed with the wrong people. We are going to take him and his empire down," Tony pipes up from behind the bar, a sickly green smoothie in hand and a wide grin plastered across his face as if Christmas had come early.

"I really appreciate that Tony, but I can't ask you guys to get involved. This is my fight," I try to object but Tony just waves me off.

"Nonsense! It's just like Legolas said, families, are there to help each other. You're his and Nat's family, which means you're also ours. Now if you will excuse me, I have some work to do in the lab. I'll have Friday call you all when I find something. For now, I suggest that you get some sleep, you look like death warmed over," Tony says with a serious face before flouncing off to the elevator.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm gonna take Tony's advice and hit the hay. I'll see you guys in the morning," Sam announces before making his way to the elevator, stopping briefly to give me a quick hug and a whispered, "Welcome to the family."

One by one the rest of the team shuffles off to either go sleep or enjoy their various pursuits after handing out hugs and welcome until it's just me and Bucky. "Are you gonna head to sleep too?" Bucky asks casually as he finishes off the last of his beer.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna watch a movie for a while. You're welcome to join me if you want," I offer with a shy smile as I plop down on the couch and pull one of the flannel blankets over my legs.

"Sounds like fun," Bucky grins as he plants himself next to me and I lift the blanket so he can snuggle beneath it. We settle on watching Beauty and the Beast but within the first half-hour we're both fast asleep with my head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped securely around my waist, both of us completely oblivious to the pair of blue eyes watching us with a smile from the shadows.

Translation:  Moi dva idiota (My two idiots)

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[genjilovebot-blog]

Dva, Mercy, and Lucio reactions to their s/o who only ever gets cheap, store bought presents for everyone else but spends time making meaningful and sweet presents for them.

D.VA

It was Hana’s birthday. The beloved girl wasn’t expecting much from anyone, but she knew everybody would make a fuss. Not just the Overwatch team but the whole world. Her country, South Korea, would do something to honor her.

“Happy birthday Hana!” People and staff would say as they passed by her. “Thank you so much!” She would say back.

Through the day, she’s been collecting gifts from people who cared enough to give her stuff. Those gifts ranged from gift cards (with boatloads of money in them) to cute, gold necklaces.

You walked into Hana’s office at the base. On her table was a mountain of gifts. You looked down at your bag. ‘Pathetic’, you thought. Your gift was made with love and yet everyone had given her something she’d actually like. You felt as if your gift was worth nothing.

“YN, what are you doing here?” Hana asked from behind you. You got startled, “oh, hi Hana. I just came to drop this off.” You raised the bag, “happy birthday!”

She smiled brightly, cheeks dusted with pink, “aww you shouldn’t have!” She looked at the bag, “can I open it now?” You nodded and she proceeded to take the tissue paper out the bag to reveal her gift.

Hana reached inside and pulled out a wooden H. On that H were photos of you and her. Precious memories. Memories like successful missions to simply getting a smoothie together. Hana looked at you, she felt so special.

For anyone else’s birthday, you would’ve gotten some last minute gift from some random store. Like when Jack’s birthday came around; you bought him a lousy hat with a gift card for pizza.

“YN..” Hana held the H gently, “I don’t know what to say..”

“I know.. I’m sorry Hana. I wish I could’ve gotten you something better but-”

“YN! This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten! It’s so full of love and thought, it means so much to me!” She hugged you hard, “I can’t wait to put it in my room when I return home! Thank you, YN.” You smiled, knowing you’ve made your favorite person happy, “you’re welcome.”

–Mercy

There’s been many successful missions lately. It was one after another that each mission was complete. So the team decided to go out to eat and get gifts for each other to celebrate.

You found a seat at the table, it was crowded at the restaurant. Gifts took up one half of the table and food took up the other. “Hey Angela,” you planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Hey darling, you made it just in time. We’re about to open gifts!”

You rubbed your hands together in excitement, but there was also a hint of nervousness too. You made Angela’s gift this time. You didn’t buy one at the store. You hoped that you wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

Each person opened gifts one by one. Many 'thank yous’ and hugs went around. Finally, there was one gift left, and that was yours to Angela.

“YN, I can’t wait to see what you got me!” She grabbed the bag. Your heart raced and your palms were sweaty, knees weak, and arms were heavy.

Angela unwrapped her gift. She pulled out a beautiful frame with a drawing of her inside. The drawing was completed with beautiful watercolors. The portrait was vibrant and amazing. Angela was left speechless. “You did this?” She ran her fingers gently on the frame.

“Yes, it took me months of practice and starting over, but I did it.” You looked at her.

“This is absolutely stunning!” She smiled wide.

“It sure is stunning. A gift YN gave me last time was some socks and a blanket, and I don’t even wear socks!” Genji exclaimed.

The whole table laughed with joy. Everyone was happy, especially your beloved Angela.

–

Lucio

Lucio was soon to leave on a world tour for his music. You and the rest of the team decided to throw a party before he left. The party was to have his favorite foods and “going away gifts”, even though he was only going to be gone for a month and a half. But still, it was a long time before you were going to feel him in your arms again.

Lucio held you in his arms and held his drink up, “everyone! Listen up! I’d like to thank each and every one of you for doing this for me! You don’t know how much it means to me!” He looked at you, “you too, YN.” He pressed his lips on yours and you did the same.

“How about we open these gifts already? Im dying!” Lucio laughed and grabbed his first gift.

As he opened, each gift got better and better. It all started out when Hana got him customized headphones with a matching microphone. Then Angela bought him new and very expensive software for making music.

Each gift was just more pricy and better than the one before.

“Aww, and who’s gift can this be?” Lucio finally pulled out your gift. A small box wrapped in green wrapping paper. “It’s mine.” You said shyly. “Thanks babe!” He kissed your cheek and unwrapped it.

It was a toy microphone. But it wasnt just a toy, you could record things and save them. He pressed the star shapped button. Your voice sounded. It was you telling him how much you loved him, how proud you were of his accomplishments and that you always have his back.

His eyes watered, “babe..” he choked up, “t-this is so nice.”

“Don’t cry,” you chuckled at his reaction and pulled him close.

Everyone in the room awwed. “I wish Yn thought of something cute when I was going back to Korea. She just bought me a lame movie to watch on the plane ride home,” Hana told Angela. “Shh, let them have their moment.” Hana smiled, “you’re right.” She began to awe once more. –(If you got the reference i made in Mercy’s scenario you are an intellectual)

[runephoenix6769]

Shattered Part 5

Widowmaker attempts to break free from Talon.

( From all povs.. Lena is not overly friendly to begin with. I shall be uploading here, continoulsy editing and eventually when I’m far enough ahead on Ao3.) 

You can find Parts 1 - 4 under the shattered runephoenix6769 tag. If not i can just reupload. Enjoy.) 

                                        Shattered Part 5

Pushing open the door that would lead to the female communal showers, the ex RAF pilot was greeted by a wall of steam and the heady aroma of cleanliness and wafts of feminine scented shampoos.  It was a reprieve from the stench that still lingered in her nostrils and Lena was convinced had got into the lining of her clothes and hair.

Dumping her wash bag onto the bench,  she swiftly removed the chronal accelerator with practiced ease, stashing it into the specifically created water proof charging dock before the fine mist of minuscule droplets could play havoc with the inner electronics, safe in the notion that Winston would have considered such an eventually especially with her penchant for traipsing the streets of an usually over cast London and taken steps to incorporate it into the design of the life grounding  equipment’s design, it still paid to be cautious.

With a shaky breath, she checked the connection to ensure it was charging correctly and that the seals hadn’t corroded in the often damp atmosphere before punching in her personal code to insure its security.

Her personal locker not more than a few feet away, was sandwiched between Zarya’s and Mei’s, whose remained empty. Lena ran her finger over the piece of scotch tape with her name written in sharpie checking the adhesive. It has been left in the hope of the off chance that the Eco Point operative would change her mind and return to the fold. Peeling at the edges, it would need replacing soon. Lena noticed DVa Nano cola stickers had been added to the collection of pink butterflies and decals of Lucio’s frog, a sign that not only she missed the climatologist’s chipper demeanour.

Letting out a small sigh, she turned the dial of the locker giving it an extra wiggle when it stuck on the number 7 as it always did.  It’s not like she didn’t understand Mei’s trepidation at answering the recall, being left out in the cold by the International organisation was something they both had in common but the glaring difference, Lena had Winston who had worked tirelessly in his own time, risking court martial in a bid to bring her home safely, Mei on the other hand had woken up to the realisation that Eco Point and their team had been forgotten entirely in the fall. Lena couldn’t imagine what it must have been like waking up to find her team mates dead, trapped and with no hope of escape as they suffocated in their pods.

Similar to a cockpit.  Tight. Sucking in oxygen from the tank. Enclosed and inescapable    

Hands fading in and out of existence as fingers tried to grasp the eject button, gasping for air, fists banging on the cockpit’s encasing . Lena’s hand instinctively lashed connecting with the bottom left hand corner of the locker door. Dented from the repeated action of over the years, it popped open.

“Are you ok my little peroskie” came the low toned voice.

Lena blinked, quickly flicking a bright smile on her face to look at the towering form of the Russian Weightlifter; Lena barely came up to her chest.

“Sorry, didn’t hear you come in there.”

Zarya deadpanned, in broken English,

“In Mother Russia, the element of surprise is needed to hunt Omenics. All Russians are silent. We don’t cry when we come out of mother’s womb!”

Lena scanned the Russian’s face for a hint of a lie, finding none, she breathed in wonderment,

“Cor, blimey. Really?”

Zarya broke out into a booming laugh that echoed with the acoustics of the locker room,

“No!” a bear sized hand landed on the pilot’s shoulder causing the much smaller woman to slightly buckle under the weight.  Zarya shook her head, “British so gullible.”

Water trickled in divlets along the grooves of the sculptured muscles, from Zarya’s neck, glistening on their journey along her bicep before dripping from her elbow and splashing with a little plink on the tiles. Zarya quirked an eyebrow and gave a polite cough. A flush of heat rose to Lena’s cheeks.

“Im .. Im .sorry.” her fingers reaching out, “Your biceps are the size of my thighs!”

Zarya’s grin widened and she flexed her biceps for show, nodding in permission for the younger woman to touch them. Lena tried to circle both hands round the bulging muscle and found her fingers too short.  The Russian began to flex in body builder poses, turning this way and that. She turned to show off her back muscles only for the towel to slip down completely. Unashamed, Zarya turned giving Lena a full frontal eyeful. The pilot threw up her hands and closed her eyes, squealing,

“Jesus Christ!”

Zarya stood hands on her hips, revealing in her glory and teasing Lena’s reaction.

“Do you not like the female form? “ She theatrically boomed.

“Yes! Yes!” Lena hurriedly replied whilst trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness. “Just put something on!”

The Athlete let out another rolling jovial laugh as she retrieved her towel and wrapped  it back around herself.

“You feel better now?”

Lena returned it with a genuine smile and a nod,

“Thanks.”

The two women settled into a comfortable silence as they got changed, Lena stripping down to her underwear and stuffing her clothes unceremoniously in to her locker. Retrieving her wash bag, she felt Zarya ruffle her hair as she passed.

“Come, find me when finished reports. Help me take Cowboy’s money in card game, da?”

Once more Lena gave the chornal accelerator dock the once over, testing the handle and double checking that the line of code continued to play in a loop flashing on the interface.

“Yeah, as long as you promise to challenge Reinhardt to an arm wrestle.”

“Done. German knight no match for Russian Bear!”

With a grin Lena slipped into the shower room to the sounds of another booming laugh.

  Making quick work of her shower and dropping off her dirty uniform on the way, Lena was finally able to relax in the safety of her room. The life grounding piece of equipment, once again, was safely stashed in its charging dock not a few feet from where she sat at her desk in her shorts and baggy hoodie.

“Athena, be a luv and turn on the holopad.”

“Of course Lena.”

Whilst she waited for her holopad to come to life she stretched out from her seat yanking on a mini fridge door, blindly searching  it’s depths until her fingertips grazed the familiar shaped neck of a bottle. Balancing precariously she continued to struggle to find purchase, cursing under her breath as she heard the glass bottle tip over rattling against the tray. Slowly she teased it forward by her finger nail in the bottle lid, finally coaxing it into a position whereby she could grasp it.  Happy she pushed the fridge door closed with a foot whilst simultaneously unscrewing the cap off the large bottle of Bishop’s Finger.

Taking a huge gulp of the cool bubbly liquid she praised good old fashioned home brewed British red ale. Resting one foot on the edge of the chair, she relaxed back rubbing out the kinks in her neck. After all these years she thought she would be used to the extra added weight of the accelerator and she was, until she took it off and realised just how much lighter she felt, sometimes swinging round and continuing on an often unexpected trajectory .

“May I enquire as to the mission? All went well?” Asked the A.I.

“Yeah, after a fashion I suppose.”

Stretching up until her breast bone cracked and the muscles in her shoulders gave the tell tall sound of grating together, Lena made a mental note to ask Zarya who her competition masseuse was as she was in dire need of the kinks to be worked out. The last time she had ignored it had been at her own peril, not wishing a repeat of a trapped nerve resulting in sleepless nights, handfuls of painkillers and anti-inflammatories and being bumped off the roster until Angie gave her the all clear.

The tinkling music of the holopad coming to life almost caused her to startle.

“Athena. Can you pull up a report form?”

Taking another much needed sip, her eyes danced across the light screen.  In a strip across the bottom international news headlines played in a loop. The top left hand corner the roster played over as to personnel   away on mission, who was on active on base, who was on downtime. The little icon next to Lena winked green, DVa’s and Zarya’s green with a line through.  Lucio’s red with a line through. Mei’s remained dormant, permanently grey.  Lena had witnessed it flicker green once with an X through it meaning the climatologist had been using the system somewhere in the world and had no wish to be disturbed.

The report template appeared on the screen as Lena took another gulp of beer. Swiftly her fingers tap danced across the keyboard filling in relevant information such as mission code, clicking a drop down menu adding the names of the operatives in attendance, fuel and equipment used.  Her fingers paused in mid-air when she came to equipment collected.

Her eyes flittered round the room before coming to rest on the gun case haphazardly tossed on the spare bed Lena often used as a wash basket and extra storage, a room to herself one of the many perks of being a Specialist Agent.

Under ‘Retrieval’, she began to type only to furiously hit the back space button.  Sitting back again, she absently mindedly took a sip as her eyes focused intently on the gleaming state of the art case.  

Overwatch headquarters having a state of art damping field for any such beacon or tracking device, she had in her haste to get out of her sweaty and stinking uniform put no thought to the weapon she had so excitedly retrieved.  

It couldn’t hurt to look, could it?

Better to be sure that Talon hadn’t somehow found cutting edge technology that could circumvent Athena’s protocols. By all means that pesky Talon hacker Sombra could have found a way.

It was her duty to check wasn’t it? Just in case.

Leaving the bottle on the table, she used her toes to scoot the chair over, the wheels spinning and threatening to go in any direction.  

Pulling the case closer, she turned it over this way before examining the clasps and giving them a quick flick to reveal its treasures within.

Nestled beside Widowmaker’s famous grappling hook gauntlet, the gun gleamed.

Widow’s Kiss.

She doubted is was named that out of any sort of sentimentality on Widowmaker’s part, more than likely some sort of dark gallows humour, if the woman was capable of such things.

Reaching out, she hesitated, her hands hovering over the sleek weapon. The light playing over the hues of black and intermingled purple coating the metal gave it the quality of a living breathing thing.

How would she feel if someone got their grubby little hands on her trusty twin pulse pistols?

Her excitement getting the best of her, she unhooked the straps that kept it in place before teasing it out of its nest.  It was deceptively light, given the information Overwatch had gleaned that it also housed a sniper rifle barrel somewhere in its mechanics.

Fitting it snug under her arm, she gave it a few experimental swings.  Suddenly she jumped up, enjoying the feeling of the weight, hefting it until she found a comfortable way to cradle it. Getting a good grip on the stock and holding it firm against her shoulder, she peered down the sights and the barrel.

She had been on the end of that muzzle intent on snuffing her out of existence plenty of times. And once in Numbani she had held it in her hands, firing it and instantly regretting the recoil, but in the heat of the skirmish she hadn’t had the time to admire the craftsmanship, only wonder how someone who looked so statuesque yet frail could expertly wield such a thing.

Turning she caught her reflection in the long mirror on her wardrobe door. Correcting her stance she admired her reflection, attempting to sound seductive and intimidating in a mock French accent,

“Foolish girrrrl.”

She stepped to one side, only to jump back in front of the mirror,

“Mwaa ha, ha, baguette, hon, hon, croissant!”

She let out a snort of laughter at herself in her tiny shorts, oversized hoodie with one of the most feared weapons in the world in her tiny hands and against her slender frame.

In heady excitement her finger tips began to feel out all the tiny nodges, searching for the trigger mechanism that would open up Widow’s Kiss in all its beauty.  Noting the difference, she was sure she had found the culprit. To press it was so tempting but she would look like a daft bint if once she had the sniper rifle unfolded she wouldn’t be able to get it back in. Who knew what protocols would be in place? For all she knew it might self-destruct reducing her and Watchpoint Gibraltor to nothing more than a crater. Thinking better of it she carefully placed it on the bed, making sure the muzzle was pointed at the wall.

Instead she turned her attentions to the piece of equipment that made the Talon assassin glide through the air and cut soldiers in half. If Widow’s Kiss was sleek and sophisticated, the grappling gauntlet came off as industrial by comparison.  Positioned in the all at once soft but solid packing foam, it looked to Lena that to remove it one had to slip the arm into the gauntlet’s wrist hold and pull.  It’s dull grey exterior belied its predatory allure as Lena slipped her forearm into the wrist hold. Fastening it as tight as it would go she found the interior against her skin surprisingly soft and snug. The pilot gave it an experimental tug only for the full case to follow her and hang uselessly.  Holding it steady with her other hand, she tugged again only for this time the foam came slightly loose from its corners.

A tiny piece of white caught Lena’s eye. Peeking out from one of sides, caught between foam and steel of the guncase was the small edge of something . Taking off the gauntlet, Lena used her thumb and forefinger to fish out the curious object. Finally working it loose and pulling it from its hide out, she let out a small gasp.

Only the old fashioned and rich used film stock, everyone else preferring digitalised photo frames that played a number of images on a loop or the more modern holo frames that played snippets of video that back in the ancient internet days were referred to as gifs.

Turning it over in her hands, her eyes roved the image.  Recognising Gérard, she dropped it as if burned. Never taking her eyes of the photograph, she slumped in the chair.

The last time she had seen him had been just before the Slipstream test flight. Being a mentor and a friend, he had drawn her into a one armed hug, telling her how proud he was of her, that she had this in the bag. That he had been rooting for her to be the one picked out of all the hopefuls from the start and no other pilot had been more deserving. That morning something in her gut had told her something was off and she parted her pre-flight jitters he had reassured her, steadying her by giving her a quick nip of schnapps out of a hip flask he called Dutch courage and she had joked that was it because the French didn’t have a word for courage? He had given her a playful cuff over the ear and with one arm slung over her shoulders  walked beside her as the tannoy called out that the test was about to start.  As she had settled herself in the cockpit she had flashed him a quick thumbs up before he had turned walking back into the darkness of the flight hanger, neither knowing it would be the last time they saw each other.

By the time Lena had returned, Gerard Lacroix was dead, said to be killed in the line of duty.  

Gerad’s death wasn’t something that was discussed much and if it was it was done in hushed tones. Rumours had flown rife at the cadets canteena . A Talon operative had snuck like a viper into his home, murdering him and his Prima ballerina wife in their sleep. Eventually as Lena had worked her way up the ranks and her clearance had been changed accordingly, the story had taken a different twist.  

One that the Londoner wasnt entirely privy to.

With shaky fingers and heart pounding in her chest she retrieved the photograph. Treating it with care and reverence she re-examined the image. A happy husband and wife on their wedding day, Gerad looking dashing and handsome in his tuxedo smiling down at a stunningly beautiful woman nestled into him, proudly showing off her wedding ring. Lena recognised the elegant and fine features. She had been up close and personal enough, usually trading blows and those pouty lips pulled back in a sneer ridiculing her.

There`was no mistaking it, the woman in the photograph was Widowmaker.  

She had heard snippets of the sad tale of caution.  She was aware that Anglea and Gerard’s wife had been close. That’s for years they had assumed his wife dead. That Widowmaker had been responsible for the ‘death’ of Ana Amari. Beyond that it was a relative wall of silence shrouded in mystery.

Scooting back across the floor, Lena reached for the bottle of beer taking a sip.

“Athena.”

“Yes Lena.”

“Pull up everything you have on Gerad Lacroix, namely to do with Talon Operative Widowmaker.”

Her thumb lightly brushed over the face of the blushing bride in thought.  Why would Talon’s top assassin keep this? This physical form of a happy memory?  A tangible part of her past?

“Sorry luv, could you add anything to do with Amelie Lacroix to the search?”

“That could take some time Lena.”

Clearing a space on her magnetic organiser she trapped the photograph to the board with a Beefeater fridge magnet.

“Don’t worry luv, I’ve got plenty of time.”

A chatbox pinged in the top left hand corner.

~~ She-Bear~ @FlyBoi  “Weak Cowboy man dare me to a wrestle with mechanical arm. Come watch Russian Muscle crush robot reliance.”

~~DVaInternational~~ @FlyBoi. Lena where are you? McCree is in as idiot. Im gonna live stream it~~

Lena grinned at the invitation, typing out a hasty reply.

~~FlyBoi~~ @She-Bear @DvaInternational. Lemme  finish this an I’ll be over. Don’t start without me!~~

Quickly her fingers flew over the keypad, noting time and date. Describing the mission, she left out the parts about Fareeha and Angela butting heads. She catalogued the guncase and gauntlet and left out the hidden memento. Satisfied she hit copy, save and send taking pains to make sure she had one copy in her personal folder and all T’s were crossed and I’s dotted.

Quickly she got changed, swapping out her shorts for comfy pants, and slipping into her chronal accelerator before secreting it under an oversized zip up hoodie.  Tugging on a pair of ked’s she checked Athena’s progress and setting her own chatbox icon to green with a line through indicating she was available but off duty. Carefully she returned the Talon operatives gun back to the gun case, checking it was secure. One last look at Athena’s progress she grabbed the case before flicking off the light and dashing out the door.

Eriey light bathed Lena’s messy room in its glow. In the top left hand corner the personal roster continued to update. Mei’s grey notification flickered in quick succession coming alight in bright green,  X flashing before  disappearing and turning into a line.