#anyway the graphic? like?? at least it's funny

[garnetaldebaran]

Etelä Suomen Sanomat Summer magazine source

[batsplat]

random throwback to fabio's response to casey saying he should've been black flagged for the whole open leathers situation

[greyias]

Oh god… they’ve returned. On a completely different post this time around.

Cue me making melodramatic memes and finding my fainting couch

[tiredwiredanduninspired]

My confession is that I unironically love the song Talk Dirty (but the Cody Carson cover is even better)

Anyway, thirty hours of art exams are killing me atm

(full version + separated frames included)

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Kind of irked because I have tried to avoid buying things that would start too much drama if extended family visited me and then my aunt and uncle give my brother a “leftist tears” mug for his birthday. What’s even the point of me trying that hard to be civil if you can just do that? Anyway I have mugs I wanted to buy but didn’t because I was worried about family visiting and I’m about to change my mind

Update: I bought my mugs. Now I’m just conflicted about t-shirts (graphic Ts my beloved)

[gretavanlace]

Breña

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, oral sex (m rec), illusions to oral sex (fem rec), fingering, etc.

Inspired by this delicious ask and blurb that was sent to me ages ago. I promised I’d get to this one, and I did, I’m just sorry it took me so long. Forgive me 💕

Loosely edited, but what else is new?

“Get fucked, Josh.” Jake barks with such venom your head snaps in his direction. He rarely speaks unkindly, even if it is only his twin brother, who will love him anyway, on the receiving end.

For his part in the exchange, Josh merely smooths a nonexistent wrinkle in his shirt with an airy chuckle. “Maybe you should take your own advice, brother. Seems like you need to get laid. Awful testy, darling.”

He means it as a joke. A laugh to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, it doesn’t land and you watch on in shocked silence as Jake slaps his glass of whiskey down on the coffee table before him, and then stalks from the room without a word - his absence solidified by the sharp slam of his bedroom door.

”You shouldn’t have said that,” your admonishment is quiet, issued tepidly while you stare down into your glass of wine. You feel intrusive, yes, but you feel worse for Jake, and that wins out.

”I know,” he agrees with the decency to at least sound repentant, “But I didn’t mean it that way. And besides, it's been months. He just needs to get on with it.”

”He loved her.” Your standpoint certainly doesn’t come from a place of loyalty to Jake’s ex - you loathed her, but instead, for Jake and his clearly wounded heart.

”He didn’t love her,” Josh corrects, and likely rightly so “He loved the idea of her. There’s a big fucking difference.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t insert yourself, but you’ve never been great about biting your tongue. ”Maybe give him some time to figure that out for himself, then.”

Josh rises with a smile that tells you your candor hasn’t ruffled his feathers. It’s so difficult to rile him up that it often feels like some twisted challenge, “Don’t you ever get tired of being right all the time? Seems exhausting to me. You should try being a fuck up…I could give you lessons.”

He drops a kiss upon the crown of your head and trips off to place his glass in the sink. “I seem to have worn out my welcome here at Jacob’s Tavern on the Green. You want a ride? I only had the one.”

”No,” you wave him off and nip at your glass, “I might just crash on the couch. The A/C’s out at my place again.”

”Alright, then,” he shrugs on his jacket and pats at his hair as if he’s prepping for a night out rather than the quick drive home, “Don’t poke the bear though, doll face. I’d like to keep you unscathed. Kinda like you.”

”That’s funny,” you deadpan, “Because I can’t stand you.”

He wrinkles his nose, offers a quick wink, and then out the front door he slips.

The couch remains your lighthouse for a time, but everyone knows Josh gives terrible advice, so if he has warned against poking the bear, that’s obviously exactly what you should do.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, just before knocking softly on his bedroom door. “Jake?”

Your call is met with silence, but just before you turn to leave, feeling dejected and meddlesome, the door cracks open to reveal him, now barefoot and shirtless…a pair of sweats resting so low on his hips your mind wanders into dangerous territory “What’s up? Bored of my idiot brother already?”

He’s presenting a brave face, but you can see the anguish in his eyes, and also, something else that you can’t quite place.

”He left, actually.” Why do you suddenly feel so stupid? “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seem…I don’t know, on edge?”

He reaches out and gives your arm a friendly squeeze, “I’m alright, sweetheart. He just dances on my last nerve, that’s all.”

And while that’s not a total lie, you also know there’s a lot more to it, so you gently push him along. “You sure, Jake? You can talk to me, you know? I’ve been there, I understand how hard it is to miss someone you shouldn’t.”

Searching your face for something you can’t identify, he lets a stretch of quiet carry on a beat too long, before finally shaking his head, holding the door open a little wider in wordless invitation.

Once you’re perched awkwardly at the foot of his bed, hands clasped and ankles crossed, he speaks up “I don’t miss her, necessarily. It’s just hard. Especially the way it ended. I just…”

God, he looks so small and walled off. “You just what?”

Slumping onto the bed beside you, he sighs “I just wish it had ended differently.”

”It never ends well,” you flop down as well, and stare up at the ceiling as though constellations might appear to dazzle you. “Everyone always hates the ending. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

”Do you miss her?” He asks, staring up at that bright, blank white just as you are.

What an absurd question. Why should he care? And were you really that great at pretending to like her to spare his feelings?

The moment seems to scream for honesty, so you hand it over. “No, I don’t. I never cared much for her to begin with, and then she…” you falter and search for a kind way to describe it, “and then she did what she did to you, and I— no, I don’t miss her at all.”

”It’s alright to just say it. She cheated on me.” He laughs a little. “Fuck, how pathetic does that sound?”

Rolling to your side to face him, you blink away his self deprecation, “It isn’t pathetic, Jake. Not on your end, anyway.”

“I suppose I just wonder what I did or didn’t do, you know?” He chuckles quietly to mask his vulnerability, “What did he do that I didn’t? Why wasn’t I enough?”

“I don’t think that’s really how it works,” you assure him, turning to stare up at his ceiling once again, but now reaching for his hand. “Besides, I can’t imagine you not being enough.”

He returns your encouraging squeeze and makes a half-whispered joke, a verbal mask to hide behind. “Maybe I just wasn’t good enough in bed. I swear I know where everything is, and where things go…mostly.”

”Shut up,” you laugh softly so as not to disturb the calm that has settled. “I have zero doubts about your abilities, Jake Kiszka, in bed or otherwise.”

Now, he is the one rolling to his side to face you. “And what does that mean?”

”I don’t know,” you shrug, suddenly feeling extremely on display. “It’s just…well, in my experience, men like you don’t often disappoint in that department.”

”Men like me?” You have perked his interest and plucked at that mildly conceited chord that lives within him. “And what type of man am I exactly, sweetheart?”

”I’m not going to stroke your ego, Jacob. Though if you’d like to do it yourself, I’d be happy to leave the room.”

He laughs at that, “If I planned on stroking something you’d leave the room? Another devastating blow to my pride.”

You groan in mock exasperation at his tactless humor, earning another chuckle from him. You love the sound of his laugh, and you love being the one to make him laugh even more.

”It’s not like it would matter anyway.” He sighs, nuzzling against his duvet to get comfortable. “Stroking something, I mean.”

”Jake!” Your head whips to meet his scandalous gaze.

”Oh, grow up.” He grins, eyes flashing with mischief, but still something else that you can’t place.

He’s right. You promised him he could talk to you, so you shake it off and start anew. “What do you mean?”

”I just…can’t…” he pauses, searching for his resolve. “Not since she left.”

You’re shocked, and unfortunately, not hiding it well. “You haven’t had sex since then?”

It doesn’t seem possible. He’s gorgeous and charming, charismatic and dripping sex. Women crawl for him everywhere you go.

“I haven’t done anything since she left.” He corrects, dodging your stare. “I can’t. No matter what I do. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Every time I get anywhere near I—“

He abruptly cuts himself off, “I’m sorry. This isn’t cool. I shouldn’t be telling you this. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

“No,” the last thing you want him to do is shut down. “It’s okay. Talk to me.”

He closes himself off again with a clipped shake of his head ”You don’t want to hear this shit.”

Alright, that’s it, he can’t have it his way. He can fight you tooth and nail, but you’re going to march on anyway and drag him along, kicking and screaming.

“So you haven't gotten off since the split?” You ask as if it’s no big deal…and maybe it isn’t.

“Jesus, babe…” he teases, “such a mouth on you.”

Interesting choice of words, Jacob.

”It’s just surprising to me, that’s all.” It’s a leading comment, and you damn well know it.

”Why?”

”Because you’re you, Jake.” Now you’ve spun to face him again as well. “You just walk around like living, breathing sex all the time. And you’re also a liar with your ‘mostly’ bullshit. You know where everything goes and then some. I can tell.”

”You sound terribly sure of your analysis, sweetheart.” His voice has grown quiet and it makes you long to squeeze your thighs together.

“Am I wrong?” Oh, you seem to have grown quiet as well. When did that happen? “Because I don’t think I am.”

He ignores your question, “Living, breathing sex, huh?”

”Again, I can leave the room if you’d like to sing your own praises.”

His fingers reach up to smooth an errant lock of hair away from your forehead, “You are the one singing my praises. I’m simply enjoying the attention.”

You’re further hushed at his touch ”You’re a smug little shit, you know that?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I do know that…it’s just been a bit since I could remember why.”

You want this. You want this so badly you might even be inclined to beg for it. Instead, you seize the opportunity with feigned confidence. “I could help you. If you wanted.”

His fingers are still caressing your forehead, lulling you so softly, “Help me how?”

”I don’t know,” you’re toying with the chain around his neck now, avoiding his eyes, “I could…try.”

”Try what?” There’s a smirk ghosting at the corner of his beautiful mouth, and it betrays his intentions. He knows exactly what you mean. He just wants you to say it.

Now or never. “I could get you off. If it would help. I mean, I’d like to…I want to help.”

The strong column of his throat bobs as he swallows hard, and then there is his nose, nuzzling against yours, the closest to his kiss that you have ever been ”You want to make me cum?”

The way he speaks of it, as if you two have been here a thousand times together before, is so sexy your head is suddenly spinning.

You offer a tiny nod and then hurry on before you lose your nerve, “You could just lie here and I could…”

Every ounce of confidence seeps from your bones when his eyes, cinnamon sugar and blown wild with lust, catch your own.

”You could what?” He presses the gentlest kiss against your cheek.

”I could use my mouth…I…” fuck, you can hardly breathe, and the room feels too small, crowded up with tension and long repressed desire.

A needy, hungry groan rumbles out of his chest as he pulls you a little closer. “You would do that for me?”

”Of course I would.”

His eyes are on your lips now, agonized and desperate. “Have you thought about it before, or do you just feel sorry for me?”

He knows the answer. There’s that smugness you spoke of.

”I think about it all the time.” You whisper honestly. “Do you?”

”No.” his hands fist into your hair. “I don’t think about my cock in your mouth,” oh god, the way those words tumble off of his pretty tongue, dripping saccharine but so dark “but I do think about my face between your thighs…how you’d sound. How you would taste. How you might rock your hips against me when I got you close.”

In response, you’re on your knees before him in a breath, fingers curled into the waistband of his sweats, imploring him with your gaze for permission.

He nods with a hitching inhale and that’s all the confirmation you need. Pulling them down, there it is. Stunning and achingly hard, thick and pulsing for you. As breathtaking as an obscene symphony. He looks so ready, leaking opalescent droplets into the soft dusting of hair below his belly button. You doubt you’ve ever wanted anything more.

The flat of your tongue runs warm and wet from base to tip, nudging harder at that special spot just below his velvety head. How did you know? He wonders as he twitches against your kiss.

After such a long stretch of fighting to get off, he’s now frightened he just might embarrass himself and cover your lovely face before you’ve even had a chance to suck him in.

But suck him in you do, without warning, and so deeply he can feel the silken back of your throat. Lurching forward, curling in on himself against the pleasure, he chokes out a humiliating sound and grabs at you…one hand tangled in your hair, the other clutched around the nape of your neck. “Oh my god, baby, please…”

You nod your understanding and swallow around him, sweeping your tongue back and forth. He sounds blissful but pushes you away without warning. “M’gonna cum,” he murmurs through his panting breaths, “just give me a second.”

How has he gotten here so quickly? It’s horribly humbling, but he wants it so badly his heart is resting in his throat, thrumming savagely, pulse-points pounding a fierce and uncontrollable beat.

”That’s the fucking point, Jake,” you fist at his wet cock and drink him back down once before pulling back, “You need it, I can feel it. Cum in my mouth. Please?”

Your please, so sweet and innocent while asking for something so filthy, snatches a growl out of him that flushes you with unbearable heat.

Both of his palms find either side of your head tentatively, “Can I stand?”

You nod eagerly around him, and then gaze up at his face once he is hovered above you like a deity soaked in depravity. There is a pink blush painted across the bridge of his nose and cheeks that makes you feel as soft as warm cotton.

“I want to use your mouth,” he hushes, “Is that alright?”

Again, you merely nod with your mouth stuffed full of him.

”You give me a little shove if you want to stop…” he coddles your cheek, and speaks like a lullaby as you blink up at him in consent.

When he drives inside of you, it is a vicious invasion, but one that you’d plead for over and over again. He is buried so deeply inside your throat you can scarcely breathe, but the threading of his brow and the steady moans dripping from his lips are all you’ve ever wanted.

He’s twitching already against your tongue, slipping deeper into you until you’re fighting a gag that only wrecks him further.

One, two, three, thrusts and he is reduced to whimpers, “Shit, oh god, please, I need it. I need it so bad. I need to—“ a pained grunt, through gritted teeth, interrupts his babbling, “I’m cumming, sweetheart…”

The taste of his release dances across your taste buds as you struggle to swallow him down.

He is shuddering and cursing above you, holding you still as he shakes his head violently in apology, “I’m sorry…” his voice is but a phantom of itself, “It’s too much, I shouldn’t have…not in your mouth…oh fuck, fuck…”

And you’d tell him if you could, that it is a privilege…his offering, a gift. Instead, you allow every drop to roll down your throat as you suckle gently for more until he is shivering in overstimulation.

Finally, you allow his cock to slip from your mouth as his thumbs sweep over your cheekbones. “I— goddamn…thank you, sweetheart. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

”You’re welcome, Jake…” your thumbs find their own place to sweep against - his thighs. “Thank you.”

His lips part to protest, but pull back into a snarling hiss when you wrap your hand around his length “You’re still hard.”

He looks half-bashful, “I’d say it’s been a while, but I think it’s just you.”

”Yeah?” You rise from your knees and nip at his chin, “Have I made you hard before?”

”Does someone have a bit of a praise kink?” His grip sinks into the dips of your hips beneath your shirt, “Do you like knowing you’ve made my dick ache?”

”Maybe,” you shimmy your shoulders nonchalantly, “or maybe I’m just a cock tease.”

”Get on the bed.” He demands, in lieu of an actual retort, while tugging at the button and zipper of your jeans. “Everything off. You may lay however you’d like, but I want that pussy on display for me…let me see her.”

You may? Well…there’s that bit of dominance you had imagined hidden away inside of him more times than you care to admit

Dropping down on the bed, completely bared to him for the first time, you close your eyes against his appreciative scrutiny, “You’re fucking perfect,” his words are nearly vibrating, “Stay just like that and let me look at you.”

Demurely, you do as he says.

”Legs a little wider, babe…lemme see that sugary little cunt,” oh, he’s deliciously dirty.

”Hi, pretty girl,” he coos when your knees press against the sheets.

”Hi.” You murmur back softly.

He ever so gently waves you off, “Not talking to you, sweetheart. Mind your own business.”

Your cheek kisses linen as you nestle your face into the bed, content to allow him to have his private moment with your pussy. If that’s what he wants, that’s what he gets

His fingertips are there now, curling so lightly over your swollen clit, pretending like they just might nudge inside you now and then, until you’re writhing with want. “Please, Jake…” a tremulous, tiny mewl escapes you. A vexing little sound that heats your face and betrays your need.

His eyebrows quirk upward, “Inside?”

”Inside.” You nod earnestly.

Without warning, you’re filled with his middle and ring fingers. They search along your walls as his gaze clocks your expression until you cry out. “Right there, baby?” He pouts, mocking your whine. “Is that the spot?”

”Faster,” the blood in your veins is rushing at a feverish pitch, the taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue has broken you wide open.

“No,” he shushes, the soft pad of his thumb nudging at your clit “Nice and slow, sweetheart. Relax for me.”

You do your best and fill your lungs to the brim with air that smells of sex and him before releasing it slowly.

“Good girl, baby.” He praises, fucking you gingerly with his hand as if this is all either of you will ever do for the rest of your days…no rush. “When you cum, can this pretty princess make a mess?”

”Hmm?” You’re a million miles away, drifting through his sea, you’ve barely registered him speaking to you.

“If I make you cum,” he clarifies, pressing up into that place that makes you whimper and half-squirm away. He holds you down firmly, but with such tenderness. “Stay still, for me. If I make you cum just right will you soak my hand all sweet and warm?”

”I can’t…” you flush with inexplicable shame, “I don’t do that.”

”That’s alright…you just let me take care of you.” He sounds like he’s coddling a wounded bird just before he begins curling and massaging inside you with a tiny smirk on his face that seems to claim he knows something you don’t.

Never before has anyone’s touch dismantled you so perfectly, and you’re soaked and dripping; wet, heavenly sounds filling the room to mark your pleasure.

“No messes for my sweetheart? Just a neat and tidy little baby?” He taunts as your thighs begin to tremble, “I think you’re lying. maybe not with someone else, but I know you’ve worked this pretty, wet cunt just right…ruined your sheets, had to fight to stay quiet so no one would hear—“

With a cry that could be mistaken for agonized, you let go…barely there-tiny bursts of slick sprinkling across his palm like a spring mist. Were he a garden, he would bloom so beautifully under the kiss of your meager shower.

“There we go, sweetheart,” your eyes are locked in on his arm, watching the muscles turn and twist as if you’ve been hypnotized. “C’mon, just a little longer, relax, sweet girl, relax…”

It’s like lying in too-tall grass on a breezy day. Warm and gentle like an embrace, and his voice is ferrying you through it all so sweetly. How could she have ever given this up?

When you begin to tense against his ministrations, he pulls back delicately and pats the inside of your thigh, huffing the softest sigh of a laugh, “And you said no messes.”

“Jake,” your hands are instantly hiding your eyes, face sparking heat with a euphoric fluster.

“You did good, baby.” He whispers, kissing a path along your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about that for a very long time.”

“Please,” your entire body is still inwardly writhing and you can’t manage much more.

“Please what?” His hand, so gentle and soft, drags yours downward to wrap your fingers around himself. He is thick, throbbing rhythmically, and so hard, “You want that?”

He sounds in control, but it’s all there for you in his eyes, he wants this badly. He needs this. He needs you…and not simply because it’s been months.

Grabbing his free hand from where it is resting beside your head against the mattress, you guide it down until his fingers are stroking delicately across you, wetting his touch, warm and silken, “You want that?”

He visibly falters, face ducking to find solace in the crook of your neck, “I want you,” he whispers so airily you aren’t even sure you’ve heard him, “I want you so fucking badly. Please, baby…”

His voice is hushed, dragging across your skin hot and wet, desperate and hungry, you couldn’t deny him even if you were crazy enough to want to.

“You don’t have to beg,” you promise, hands now petting through his hair. “You take what you need, Jake…it’s all for you.”

”I need to get off again first,” the words sigh warm against the shell of your ear, “I’m too close. You’re so pretty and warm, and you smell so good. My sweetheart.”

”Well, look who gets soft when he’s this hard.” You tease, gently stroking the cashmere tip of his cock against your clit. “You cum as fast as you need to, let me do this for you.”

Again, his beautiful face drops to hide away, mouth sucking chills into your throat.

“I don’t want to be that guy.” He confesses, sounding shy in a way you’ve never heard before. “I want to get you there, too.”

You reach down deep and find your nerve, “Is this a one time thing? It’s okay to say yes.”

At last, his stare finds yours, “I certainly fucking hope not.”

”So, you’ll owe me one.” You shrug with a cheeky smile to soothe his nerves.

”No.” he shocks you with a fervent shake of his head as he lines himself up, nudging in gently with his pillowy soft tip, “I’m gonna get you off, baby…right on my cock.”

Dirty fuck, who would’ve thought?

”Deeper, Jake,” you’re whining already, fingernails sinking into his shoulders to pull him in closer. “Fuck me.”

”Say it again.” He orders, kissing a path along your jaw.

”Fuck me,” you repeat as though you know nothing but how to follow him into the woods, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please…”

His cock is right there teasing at you, barely inside, working your entire body into a frenzy, you want it so badly.

”Please?” His nose Eskimo kisses yours, “You’re begging very sweetly. You sound like an angel.”

“Haven’t I begged enough?” The words pant out of you warm against his lips and that - the taste of your aching need, shoves him over the edge.

Hips rolling, he slides into you like he was made to fit. The stretch is a lovely, stinging heat that claws a blissful cry from deep within your lungs. It's his favorite sound, he decides in an instant, and he wants to listen to it for the rest of his life.

As if the two of your were created simply to share this together, he fits inside of you perfectly, nestling against that sweet, hidden spot over and over until your back has arched away from the sheets and your nails scratch at him for purchase.

”So soft and tight,” his praise is but a breath, “You feel so fucking good.”

”I’m close,” you whisper back, cunt gripping at him violently, “don’t stop.”

”Wait for me, sweetheart…” he sounds filthy and angelic all at once. “I’m almost there, just…fuck, just wait for me.”

”Inside,” have you even made a sound? “Do it inside, Jake.”

”Are you sure?” He slurs, drunk off of you and ready to melt.

”Yes,” you nod frantically against the pillow, knotting your hair, “Do it. Fucking do it.”

Lost for words, he replies with a growl that takes that tightened coil deep in your belly and snaps it into pieces.

”Oh fuck,” his body tenses against you, thrust losing rythym as you flutter and clench around his twitching cock. “Gonna cum, baby, yes…you feel so…fuck…”

You watch in awe as his face twists gorgeously, eyes rolling back before squeezing closed, lip curled into a delicious snarl - and then, with a drawn out groan of your name, he collapses against you, kissing gratitude and love against your throat until the tickle of his hair makes you giggle.

”Get off me,” you laugh, shoving at his shoulders tenderly as he rolls to his side, smiling prettily at you like a kid in a candy store.

”You have magic between those pretty thighs.” He sighs, smoothing your hair. “I’m gonna tear solos up about it. Write the dirtiest riffs and licks all about that perfect pussy.”

”You’re fucking disgusting,” you sigh back, attempting to chase down your breath, “and such a guy.”

He pulls you in close, tucking his body, slick and hot, into your own, “Shh, you love me.”

Maybe he doesn’t mean it that way, and maybe you don’t either, just yet…

…but maybe you will.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama

[xjaylyn]

PART 3 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: Its been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance

a/n: It's a really long chapter like 2 chapters long because I will be out of town for a few days and probably wont have time to update. But I will try if I have some free time. Chapter 4 will be shorter.

"This is it,"

Mike pulls into an apartment complex. At a glance, you can tell it's a quiet place, slightly run down; not many people living here. Getting out of the car, the duo follows Armando to his unit. Unlocking the door, Armando steps inside and turns the light on, it flickering slightly for a second before focusing. His place is small, about the size of a hotel suite, with a small kitchen barely able to fit two people. Tight space but enough for someone who doesn't own much but himself anyway.

"I just need to pack some things and we can head out... don't touch nothing," Armando says while walking into his room. Still standing by the front door, Mike and Marcus look around the place.

"Barely looks lived in... well shit, at least he has a TV," Marcus says, walking towards the small couch to take a seat. Mike steps towards the kitchen, opening the small fridge to see barely anything in there: only a couple of water bottles and simple ingredients to make a sandwich, but that was it. Closing the door, he spots something in the corner on the counter: two small cut-out pictures. One of Armando's mother, Isabel, and one of him. Feeling his chest tighten, he gently places the photos back in the corner.

Hearing Armando walk back into the small space, he steps out of the kitchen. "Nephew, what games you play on here?" Marcus asks, pointing at the PlayStation lying next to the small TV.

Armando looks at the man, raises his brow, "why is that important?"

"Because if it's Call of Duty I'll whoop yo ass, what's your tag?" Adjusting the bag strap on his shoulder, Armando turns his body completely towards his uncle, "What's your rank?"

"Diamond 3 rank 2," Marcus says, crossing his arms.

Scoffing with a smirk on his face, Armando just shakes his head. Dropping his arms, Marcus furrows his brows, "what? What's so funny 'bout that?"

"Nothing, but you ain't whooping nobody ass with that weak ass rank," Armando says, walking up to the door.

"Oh, you a lil disrespectful motherfucker, alright, we gon' see 'bout that," Marcus follows behind him, pointing his finger at the young man walking out the door. "Mike, he just don't know how I do."

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

Four hours into the ride, the three of them sat in peaceful silence. Armando looks at the two in the front, Mike focused on driving and Marcus knocked out, snoring a little bit. Looking at his father, he decides to break the silence.

"What's the mission?" he asks.

Mike glances in the rearview mirror, "Apparently the biggest case the government has ever had... was told you might know something about it."

"I don't know why your people think I know it all, I only worked on what my mother told me to do... she's the one with the answers," Armando shrugs.

"Well, that's fine... we have someone that may know something to help us out... we're picking her up when we arrive in Miami."

Nodding his head, he looks down at the back seat noticing a file sitting beside him. "That's the case file, you can look through it and see if you find something you might recognize."

Picking up the file, he skims through everything. Besides the people he has worked with in the past, he's not sure about everything else. Shaking his head, he looks back up at his father, "Nah, I don't know."

Another silence falls upon the two. Clearing his throat, Mike decides to fill Armando in on the past 2 years. "Things have been normal since the last mission... thank you, by the way, for helping clear Cap's name-"

"I didn't have much of a choice," Armando interrupts, raising a brow.

"Yeah, well, thank you anyway..." Another silence falls between the two. Clearing his throat, Mike decides to try for a conversation again. "You have a baby sister," Mike mentions, glancing at Armando through the rearview mirror to see his face.

Armando looks up at him, making eye contact but doesn't say a word.

"Yeah, uh, she just turned one yesterday... cutest thing too... she loves anybody that gives her food," Mike laughs. Dropping his hand, he digs in his pocket for his wallet. Opening it up, he reaches back to give it to Armando.

Taking the wallet from him, Armando sees a picture of a baby girl. 'Cute.' Mike notices how Armando's face slightly softens. It wasn't a big facial expression, but you can tell it did something to him. Looking at the picture a little more, his attention looks down to another photo, it was old... one of him as a baby. Closing the wallet, he hands it back to his father.

"Congrats," Armando says, cutting the one-sided conversation to an end and looking out the window watching everything pass by.

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

...MIAMI...

Finally arriving at their destination, Mike pulls into the private base, security guarding every corner. Stopping at the gate, Mike and Marcus show their badges. The guard nods and lets them through. Getting out of the car, the three notice Chief Paul Nicola and a couple of guards walking towards them.

"Glad to see you all are here. This way, please," Paul extends his arm out, leading the small group into the private building. "For the past six months, we have kept our informant in max security... she was found in uniform so she is to be kept chained up as we do not know exactly what she is capable of. She has agreed to only speak to the people working with her to negotiate a deal," Paul says while scanning his ID to enter a private area in the building.

Stopping at a door, Paul turns to the trio. "Please don't fuck this up."

Allowing the men to step into the room, there's only one source of light from a small window making it dim. In the center of the room, they see a table and a person sitting down completely covered head to toe in chains that are bolted into the floor—securely fastened to ensure no way to escape.

The trio takes a seat at the table. A guard standing in the corner walks up to unlock the headlock. The sound of the metal mask dropping to the floor echoes through the room. She has a disheveled look to her: curly hair matted and covering some of her features, faded bruises on her face, and a busted lip. Looking into her eyes, they see she is scared and nervous. She stares at the men in front of her uncertainly.

Marcus clears his throat and softly speaks up, "Okay... I'm Detective Marcus Burnett and this is my partner Detective Mike Lowery and Armando." He points to his left and right where Mike nods at her and Armando just stares. "We know you know something that we need to know to get this shit together. So what is it that you need us to do for us to help each other?" Marcus asks, cutting straight to the chase.

The woman continues to stare at the men in front of her before nodding her head towards the guard behind her. "Get him out first."

Looking up at the guard, Mike waves his hand in a shooing motion. "We'll be good, sir," smiling at the guard who hesitates for a second before stepping out. Hearing the heavy door close, she starts, "I need one thing guaranteed to me."

"Layla Batiste... I need one of you to free her... she should be in the 7th cell on the right. Free her and give her anything she needs to make a living," the woman says, her voice shaking a bit.

"Okay, and who is this Layla? Why do we need to free her?" Mike questions.

"My sister... just agree to do that and we have a deal," she pleads, looking at Mike. "And write it down too so you don't forget... Layla Bat-"

"Batiste, 7th cell on the right. Yeah, I got it," Mike says, leaning back in his chair. "Done. Now, what do you know? Actually, what is your name before anything?"

Taking a breath, the woman sits back in her seat. "My name is Rya," she says.

"Okay, Rya, what do you know?"

"Do we have a deal?" Rya presses.

"Yes, we have a deal. We free Layla and you help us. Done. Sealed," Marcus says, leaning forward on the table. Armando just sits back with his arms crossed, watching the whole ordeal.

"You were captured by our military in a uniform... what were you doing in uniform?" Marcus questions.

Rya looks at Marcus then looks down. "I have been a prisoner since I was 10... a way for my parents to pay their debt... he sends us on missions as decoys... I was sent there as a distraction and ended up being caught."

Armando raises a brow at her wording, leaning forward to make his presence known. "Who's he?" he asks, looking at her with a hard expression.

Looking up, Rya makes eye contact with the brown eyes staring at her. She can tell he is studying her, looking for any reason not to trust her and her words. "A man named Sergio... he's dangerous and powerful. His family for decades has been a part of this big project to take over the world. For reasons I don't know... I just know his kind is powerful... and it's not just him. He has the military, doctors, scientists, judges, governments in different countries working for him. Any influence you can think of, he has someone there working for him. It's a world operation that has been growing nonstop... he's just the center of it."

The three men look at the girl in front of them and then at each other, taking in the information given to them. Mike looks back at the girl. "So why help us... what's in it for you?" he questions. She pauses for a second. "No one wants to be locked up and held captive for the rest of their life... this is my only chance and I can't do it by myself. I need your help." She looks at the men in front of her, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Hey, we are here to help as long as you can help us... you said he has connections everywhere... is there any place that you know that we can look into to gather evidence or something?" Marcus asks. Rya nods her head, closing her eyes to hold the tears back. "He has these liquid drops he's creating that's a mixture of different drugs and chemicals... there's a place on the strip... an abandoned lot that no one looks into, that's where he makes some of it."

"You know the exact place and where these drops would be?" Mike asks. Rya nods her head yes.

Slapping his hands on the table, Mike stands up looking down at the young girl. "Well, let's take a look at his little operation and make some shit happen." The three men make their way out of the room. Paul, standing in the hall on his phone, looks up as he hears the door open. Quickly putting his phone away, he walks towards the trio. "So what do we got?" He asks, putting his hands in his pocket, looking back and forth at them.

"The man we're looking for is Sergio. His family is the center of this operation and has connections everywhere. She said there's a secret lab on the strip. Claims he's making liquid drops laced with different drugs. We're gonna check it out and build up the case," Marcus says.

"Okay, good, we have something... I'm going to release her to you guys. Make sure she is protected at all costs. We can't afford to lose her," Paul tells them before walking off.

"Well... now we're babysitting... great."

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

Walking out of the building, Paul and two guards on each side of Rya, her hands and feet cuffed. She looks up at the sky, squinting her eyes, and takes a deep breath, finally getting fresh air and light after being confined in a tight cell for 6 months. Looking down, she sees the three men from earlier standing by a car, waiting for her. She wasn't lying when she said Sergio is a dangerous man... his nickname to the people was "The Devil". With the type of connections he has, it's considered damn near impossible to take him down. But still, with the right people and enough evidence... there's a chance. She can only hope she made the right choice and that those three are the ones that can help her.

Feeling a slight tug, her body is forced to a stop. The guard on the right unlocks the cuffs on her feet. Leaving the handcuffs on, he hands the keys to Mike. "The hands are to remain locked." Mike nods, opening the back door to the car. Rya gets in, the door closing behind her. Looking out, she can see Paul exchange a few words with the men before the car doors open and they get in.

"We're going to the station to meet with the team. There you can change and we'll run down everything. Okay?" Mike says, looking back at her in the back seat.

Nodding her head, she feels eyes on her and turns her head to the right, seeing Armando staring at her. She looks him up and down, raising her brow when he doesn't look away. She hears Marcus speak from the front. "Don't worry about him," Marcus says, looking at the two in the back. "He's in his moody teenage phase where he hates his life and everyone in it..." He whispers to Rya. Furrowing his brows, Armando breaks their eye contact by slowly turning his head towards Marcus. "He'll get over it... eventually he tolerates you," Marcus winks at Rya and looks at Armando. "You ever eventually shut the hell up?" Armando asks, causing Mike and Marcus to look at him surprised. "Whoooa," Marcus exclaims, looking at his partner. Mike looks at Armando, "Hey, too much."

Armando rolls his eyes and looks at Rya one more time before he looks away and out the window. "You hear how he talks to me, Mike?... Just no respect for his elders!" Marcus whines from the front seat. "Yeah, I heard him..." The two continue to go back and forth. Rya raises a brow at the dynamic between the people she was put with. Glancing over at Armando, seeing him in his own world, she leans over into the corner of her seat, laying her head back. 'What the hell did I get myself into?'

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

...Miami Precinct...

Stepping out of the shower, Rya wraps her towel around her body and walks over to the locker room mirror. She was able to wash her hair and brush it out, leaving it down to air dry. Wiping the mirror, she looks a little more like herself. The scars and light bruises all over her body are still visible, serving as a reminder of what she had to go through. Shaking her head, she looks over at the folded clothes given to her and quickly puts them on. It's a simple Miami PD t-shirt and black cargos along with black socks, comfortable enough to move around in. Slipping on her shoes, she walks out into the foyer where everybody was waiting for her.

Looking up from the computer, Mike claps his hands and points to Rya. "Everyone, this is Rya, our informant. Rya, this is Rita, the boss, and Kelly and Dorn. They are our tech kids, formally known as AMMO," he says, pointing at everyone. They all wave at her with a small smile, causing her to nod her head in acknowledgment.

Marcus walks up to her with her handcuffs. "Sorry, but they said at all times," he looks at her apologetically, putting the cuffs on her.

"Alright, I have the map of the entire strip. I marked up the abandoned buildings. I just need you to point it out for us," Dorn says, walking up to the table in the middle and laying the map flat on it.

Rya skims over the map. "This one," she says, pointing at a building.

"You sure?"

"Yes, it's that one," she says, looking up at the team.

"Alright, here's the plan," Mike starts. "Rya, you are going to go in and grab a sample of the drops. Grab anything you think we might need that can be used as evidence."

Rya looks at Mike, her eyes widened. "By myself?!" she asks.

"No, uh, Armando will go with you to make sure nothing happens to you. The rest of the team will be watching on the drones, so there's no need to worry."

Calming down a little bit, Rya nods her head. "Okay."

"Armando, you good with that?" Mike asks, looking back at his son who was standing in the back of the room. Armando shrugs and walks off.

"Okay. Well, the plan is set. Let's get ready."

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

...3 Hours Later...

"Alright, can you hear me?" Dorn asks, looking at Armando and Rya who both wore protective gear and their earpieces. Both of them nod their heads as they make their way out of the truck.

"Alright, we'll be right behind you guys. Just grab a sample and get out safely," Rita says, looking at the two before closing the truck door.

Armando starts to walk toward the building, not paying Rya any attention. Rolling her eyes, Rya follows behind, picking up her pace to catch up to him. "Alright, we'll enter first to make sure it's clear," she heard Dorn say into the earpieces. Watching the drone fly into the building a couple of minutes later, she hears Dorn clear them to enter.

Walking into the building, there were broken pieces of glass and boarded-up openings. "You know where the stuff is at, right?" Armando questions, looking back at Rya.

"Yeah, it should be a little further down in a locked room," she replies. Making their way around the building, the two end up at a dead end.

"It's a dead end," Armando says, looking at the wall.

"No, it's just made to look that way," Rya corrects him.

Armando looks at Rya for a second before looking back at the wall. Stepping back a little, he kicks at the wall, and it easily crumbles, revealing a laboratory full of different substances. Skimming the room before stepping in, Armando picks up a bag full of white pills. "Opioids?" Armando mumbles, setting the bag back down. Watching Armando look around the place, Rya sneaks her still cuffed hands into her pocket, pulling out a flash drive. Looking around, she sees a desk off in the corner with a computer on it.

"Where are the drops?" Armando asks, looking back at her.

Quickly hiding the flash drive in her palm, she looks back at Armando and clears her throat.

"It should be in a case or one of these tubes," she says, stepping into the room.

Walking around, she makes her way towards the computer, quickly putting the flash drive in and pressing a button to turn on the computer. Looking back up to make sure Armando was still looking around, she presses around until she sees a downloading screen. Quickly walking away from the computer to look around.

"What are you doing?" She hears Armando question, staring at her.

"Looking for the drops, it should be around here somewhere," she replies, glancing around and noticing a small black case sitting on top of a shelf.

Lifting her cuffed hands, she points at the case.

"There, I think that's it."

Walking over, Armando picks up the case and places it on the counter. Unlocking it, he opens it to see a bunch of little tubes full of a liquid labeled 'OPP.M'. Glancing at Rya, who is looking at the tubes, he grabs one of the tubes and puts it in his pocket.

"Alright, let's go."

Suddenly, a beeping sound goes off.

"What is that?" Armando says, and Rya looks over at the computer.

Quickly walking over, she sees an error displayed on the screen.

"Shit," she mumbles, quickly grabbing the flash drive. She feels Armando grab her shoulder roughly, causing her to turn towards him.

"What the fuck is that?" His face hardens.

"Guys, we have people coming in," Kelly speaks into the earpiece.

All of a sudden, a man fully covered in black with a gold star stitched on his vest comes in firing at the two. Armando swiftly dodges, pulling Rya with him. Getting pushed under the counter, Rya watches as Armando grabs the man, making him stumble. Taking his gun away from him, Armando shoots the man.

More men in black come into the room. Armando fights each one coming at him. Watching him get outnumbered, Rya runs out, taking her cuffed hands and grabbing one of the men from behind, choking him with the chain.

Turning around, she takes the man with her, using him as a shield as one of the other men tries to shoot at her. Dropping his body, she drops to her knee, sliding across the floor, picking up a gun and shooting the men coming towards her. Running out of ammo, she runs up to one of the men, dodging the bullets before hitting him with the butt of the gun.

Grabbing one of the glass flasks on the desk, she breaks it and picks up the sharpest piece. A man comes up to her, throwing a punch. She strategically maneuvers, causing him to fall forward and land on the desk. Stabbing the man a few times in the back, she then turns around and slices the neck of another man coming towards her. A few minutes pass of her and Armando fighting, the last body dropping. She looks up at Armando, slightly roughed up and out of breath, already staring at her. Looking down at her bloody cuffed hands, she drops the piece of glass.

"What the fuck?" she hears Mike in her earpiece. Taking a breath, she looks back up at Armando.

"We got what we need, let's go," she says before turning around and walking out of the room, Armando following behind, glaring at her.

Making her way out of the building, she sees the doors of the truck open up, the team looking at her and Armando coming over. Stepping into the truck, she makes her way over to Dorn's computer and screens. "hey thats my seat" Dorn says pointing at her.

"What the fuck was that?" Marcus says, furrowing his brows and looking at Rya with his arms open.

Armando sits on the seat, unstrapping his vest. "Clearly your informant isn't just an informant," he says, glaring at her.

Rolling her eyes, she pulls out the flash drive from her pocket and swiftly inserts it into the computer, a bunch of files popping up. "Hey, who the fuck are you? Because that wasn't the same helpless girl that was crying and shit, pleading for us to help her back at the prison?!" Marcus says, pulling her shoulder back, forcing her to face the team, all looking at her with confusion apparent on their faces.

"You got some explaining to do," Mike says, crossing his arms.

Staring back at the team, Rya leans back in the chair. 'Well, shit.'

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!):

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @sarcasticbitchsblog @maybepersuasivetom @d4rno

[blkgirl-writing]

So. Technically... the Revivify spell only works for one minute after death.

Begging for a piece where Gale sees Tav go down in combat, everyone is fighting for their lives, meanwhile he's across the battlefield, fighting his hardest to get closer and feeling the minute they have to revive Tav slipping away...

Gale x Fem!reader

"Cold to the touch"

I have never finished a request so fast I'll be honest. This is so heartbreaking but absolutely amazing.

Tags and TWs: angst, a bit funny, some detailed graphic violence and blood, Gale in denial lowkey.

-

Sometimes the fights you picked should have been fights evaded

"Gale, go!" you screeched, seconds before the killing blow you your chest, blood rapidly pooling around your feet, too much blood, you whispered as you looked down with blurring vision, clutching at your skin, trying to stop the bleeding, even for a second. The last bit of your strength used to look back up at gale, and smile. your body thudded to the ground, completely and utterly lifeless.

Gale blinked. The wind knocked out of him like he was hit with a battering ram. He fractically looked around, who was close? no one. Astarion was high on the rooftop, Wyll and Karlach surrounded with no way out, everyone on the brink of death themselves. Lae'zel the furthest and least likely to help. That just left-

"Shadowheart? Shadowheart, HEAL HER!"

"I'm fresh out of spells-" Shadowheart yelled, looking back at your limp body. "I think...She's past anything I can do right now, anyway."

Gale's gaze went down to his own hands, the revive in his pocket, how many things were around him, and how much strength he really did have. Your body was getting cold, soul leaving body, time was of the essence.

"damn it" he whispered, squeezing his eyes tightly closed, concentrating on making sure he wouldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. If the thoughts of your beautiful life absent from the rest of his miserable one crept up, he'd be paralyzed, he simply could not dwell on the bleak future. "ok"

Gale forced himself forward, nearly slipping immediately and cursing himself. Running. if he wasn't out of all the magic he could muster he could simply misty step. Instead he was forced to make his way little by little while watching the last of life slip from you as the reality set in. He couldn't get to you in time. He needed to save himself and the others if there was any hope of even bringing your corpse to have a proper burial. He had to topple goblins and just stare feet away from you as your magic slipped permanently away from this world. Helpless, and tearful.

-

He wanted to cover you up. Clothes ripped open from your wounds, he didn't want you to feel exposed. Though, he knew you weren't feeling anything at all. But he had nothing. Once again failing himself and you when he felt you most needed it.

"There....there has to be something we can do" he held your freezing and damp hand in his own warm ones. Enemies blood pooled with your own,. the fight was won, but it truly felt wrong to say those words. He had been brushing your hair out of your eyes while the others gathered around. They'd been the furthest, so Gale had gotten precious moments alone. Muttering sentances he didn't finish. About how he had failed you. About what could have been. Maybe an I love you had fallen from his lips, but it didn't matter anymore, not if he could never hear the words he so wanted to hear back from you, from your own sweet voice.

"I don't know, I....I'm so sorry, Gale." Shadowheart softly touched gales back for a moment of comfort and caring that was so rare for her. that's how he knew it was real. "I know you cared."

I know you cared. He didn't know why those words were his breaking point, but he suddenly felt water dripping down his face. Silent tears rushing down his race. "I truly did."

"We will find a way, Gale. Have hope." Wyll crouched beside Gale on the ground. "I don't think we can do this without her."

"I'll bring her back. Somehow." Gale nodded, finally tearing his gaze away from you. Everyone stood around your corpse. Everyone with the same, grim look. Though, Wyll just looked...sad, sadness for Gales pain, and for the senseless loss of another.

Gale had to get you back to get you comfortable in camp. You couldn't stay here. Not for animals to ravage.

"I'll get her to camp for you, Gale. Don't ware yourself out" Karlach effortlessly hoisted your body over her shoulder. Gale gathered the items that dropped from your pockets on the ground, covered in grime and blood. But he simply wiped it away. He didn't want you to have to clean it off later. He'd worry about the red stains on his fingers and blotches on his clothes later. He just had to worry about getting you back, and never losing you again.

-

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Tag list, tell me if you want to be added!

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray

[ovaryacted]

POOLSIDE || Dieter Bravo

PAIRING: Dieter Bravo x lifeguard! afab reader || WC: 1.8k

SYNOPSIS: You take a job as a private lifeguard for a Hollywood actor. Turns out, you got much more than what you bargained for.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Smutty. Drug usage - weed via a joint. Lots of banter and cursing. Ambiguous age gap [Dieter is canon age, Reader is 21+]. Allusions to sex (pussy eating). Dieter may be ooc due to unfamiliarity. He is still: horny, unhinged, and loves drugs. Ending leaves much to the imagination. I don't know how Hollywood agents or lifeguarding work, just have fun with it, it's supposed to be funny.

A/N: Hey there, surprise! This is for the Summer Lovin' Challenge hosted by @pedgito! I got "by the water" for Dieter Bravo with the prompt: you can’t keep distracting me while I work, and this is what I came up with. I will admit, I am fairly unfamiliar with Dieter as a whole, though I had to read a bunch of other fics to get a sense of who he is, so this was a challenge. But I hope this is enjoyable to those who like him cause I had a little fun going out of my comfort zone. This is my first time writing for this character and I am rusty, please be nice. Dividers are by @saradika-graphics. Anyway, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

When you signed up for a lifeguard gig from a Hollywood agent, you expected to watch over some celebrities’ kids by their large private pool, racking up hundreds for babysitting spoiled brats and lounging by the best-filtered chlorine available. Yet what you got was the complete opposite. Instead of watching over little kids, you were burdened to monitor an overgrown child in the body of a man.

Dieter Bravo. You’ve heard of him, some veteran actor you never really paid much attention to. The name sounded distantly familiar, remembering him at some award shows like the Oscars and recalling his name popping up in some of the selections. At the end of the day, you didn’t give much of a fuck who he was, but when you could take a job with a stipend large enough it would give you that guaranteed comma in your bank account, you didn’t object.

When you reached his private home in Santa Monica, it was quaint and modern enough not to bore you. You arrived around 11 am before the sun reached the highest point in the sky, setting up your gear and peeling away your baggy t-shirt and denim shorts to reveal the red cheeky one-piece you wore underneath. It’s better to play the part, right? At least, that’s what the agent mentioned.

Unsurprisingly, Dieter was about to step into the pool when you entered his private yard, isolated from the rest of the neighborhood and with a generous view over the hills. He tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, eyebrows lifting at the sight of a new person in his space, in a bathing suit, no less.

“You must be the lifeguard my agent hired.” It was a matter-of-fact statement, yet you didn’t fail to miss how his warm brown eyes landed on your chest before meeting your gaze again. “I don’t need a babysitter, you know.”

“Apparently, you do. Look, I’m doing this for the pay. You stay on your good behavior, and I’ll be out of your hair. Simple as that.” A straightforward agreement, you think, he’s a grown-ass man. Surely, he can listen to the bare minimum of instructions.

“Deal,” Dieter said, leaving you to your own devices. You watched as he materialized a joint from his pocket and planted it between his plush lips, sparking his lighter to inhale a drag. He exhaled through his nose, pungent smoke filling the distance between you two and making you scrunch your nostrils. You eyed him silently, holding your hand out and shaking your head when he gestured the joint in your direction for a pull.

That’s why he needed a lifeguard. Getting high off of god knows what in the pool must have been his favorite pastime before he did something stupid or endangered himself. Figures.

Propping yourself on one of the lounge chairs lined by the side of the pool, you got comfortable, tinted shades sitting on the bridge of your nose. You could lean back for some time and catch a nice tan for the first two hours, giving you something to do. You don’t think the man in question will bother you too much or do something as stupid as to drown on your watch, but you’ll do your best to ensure that doesn’t happen.

To your amazement, Dieter was quiet, humming to himself and enjoying his high as he swam about and floated in the pool. When he wasn’t looking, you’d take a couple of glances just to be sure he hadn’t sunk to the bottom. Those were also the moments when you’d get a good look at him, sneaking peeks of his face and body over the blue water.

In a way, he was handsome, with a rugged charm that brought a level of interest you didn’t initially notice. He had a head of curly brown hair and a patchy beard adorned his jaw. His soft abdomen had a trail of light hair lining from his belly button to his groin. Selfishly, you took in the way his light blue shorts hugged his hips, thick thighs shifting to keep his body upright.

Leaning back into the chair as if you hadn’t been picking apart his appearance for the past 3 minutes, you pretended like somehow this strange man wasn’t sneaking into the recesses of your mind and the depths of your gut.

It helped he was cute—just a little bit.

After lunch and munching on some catered sandwiches, you moved from lounging in the chair to sitting along the edge of the pool, dipping your feet in the water. All things considered, you thought Dieter’s house was nice, probably better than his apartment in New York, but you’d kill to have either.

Setting your sunglasses on the top of your head, you could practically feel this man watching you from the other end of the pool, taking in your movements with unfocused eyes. You ignored him, thinking it was just a coincidence or an outcome of his high. But as the faux obliviousness of his stares continued, his dramatic sighs and tricks in the water came after, squinting in his direction to gauge what he was up to.

He began to swim towards you until his hand gripped the tiled edge, running the other through his wet hair to pull it back. You caught his stare, dilated pupils hazed with a silent question.

“Can I help you, Dieter?” Speaking to him directly now, this was probably the first thing you’ve said to him since your heady warning earlier in the day.

“I’m bored.”

“Not my problem.” You shrugged again, the man groaning like a toddler on the precipice of throwing a tantrum.

“C’mon. There has to be something else we can do while you sit all pretty and shit.” Dieter said out loud, making you raise an eyebrow at the catch of certain words. It must be the weed. Ignore him.

“You can always pay and leave me alone to do anything else.” You replied, your attention drawn to one of his hands gently touching your ankle as your foot pushed against his wrist.

“You’re telling me you’re not bored too?”

“Oh yeah, bored out of my fucking mind. But you can’t keep distracting me while I work.”

“This isn’t work. It’s a babysitting job, a bad one at that.” His fingers ran over the top of your foot absentmindedly, and you had half a mind to kick his hand away. You relented, thinking it’d be worth your time if you played your cards right. 

“Have you seen yourself, Dieter? You need surveillance 25/8. I’ve been counting down the minutes to see when I will find you face down still as shit in the pool.”

You half expected him to curse you out or even be upset with what you said. Instead, he laughed, hearty and loud, bringing a wide grin across his face and giving you a perfect view of his smile. You couldn’t help but chuckle along with him out of ridiculousness.

“If you want to keep me occupied and alive, I have an idea of what we can do.” Dieter’s tone turned suggestive, something you didn’t miss. His strong arms wrapped around both of your legs and you welcomed the contact, wanting to know what he could mean, for research purposes of course.

“What do you have in mind?” You grew curious, almost taking back the words that tumbled from your mouth before his eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Well…we are alone. Nobody’s out here but us.” His thumb teasingly caressed the side of your thigh, doing nothing to quell the warmth bubbling in your core with every stroke against your skin. Suggesting to fuck a client? That wasn’t in the job description, nor was there an NDA.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Am I laughing?” Dieter was closer now, maybe too close, his chin resting on the top of your legs as he looked up at you. He reminded you of a puppy dog waiting for his treat, except you were dealing with a complete horndog with no sense of self outside of LSD and bad actor accents.

“Consider it a bonus for taking such good care of me.”

“What am I? A prostitute?” Your eyes rolled in defiance, brushing off what you think was his terrible flirting if that’s what you would call it.

“For the fucking record, I pay all of my sex workers generously. But no, this is just me showing my appreciation.” Dieter’s lips came down to kiss the newly tanned skin of your knee, prompting you to release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“You barely know me.”

“Hasn’t stopped me before. I’m sure you can say the same for yourself.” He couldn’t wipe the smirk from his face, and you don’t think you’d want him to.

“It’ll be much more fun than just watching me for the rest of the day. Don’t even gotta see my dick, I just want to taste you for a while.” He placed another kiss higher on your thigh as his fingers pressed into your calves under the water. “What do you say?”

In silence, you mentally listed the many reasons why this was a bad idea. What would it look like if you fucked Dieter Bravo the first day you were supposed to look after him? A sex addict and drug fiend who somehow still had an acting career despite a change in reputation. Red Flag was written all over his forehead in bright, bold letters.

Yet, those warnings didn’t push you away farther than you needed to be. You were already here, so you might as well leave with something. Besides, it was only 2 in the afternoon, you had some time to spare.

Dieter watched in hunger as your legs parted in front of him, supporting yourself on your arms and you smiled as you did. He was so close he could practically smell you, the stretchy material of your bathing suit hiding the treat he sought after the moment you stepped into his yard. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the taste of your pussy in the back of his mouth, coating his tongue with your slick to quench his thirst on this hot summer day.

He tried so hard to conceal the moan that slipped between his lips, suppressed by his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“You better make this worth it, or you’ll find yourself a new lifeguard.” Dieter laughed, thick fingers wrapping around your thighs and hands on your hips. He gave your body a soft tug, bringing you to the pool’s edge and closer to where he could have his mouth on you.

“Promise baby, you’ll be coming back every day this whole summer.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[abysshare]

I feel like this needs to be said but i feel like I'll just be talking to a brick wall for the billionth time.

The ableism of disabled villains in fandom is so beyond tiring. Its bad enough when a grey or protag character gets it.

Today I'll be using Curly from Mouthwashing and William Afton from FNAF as an example.

Curly, isn't really a grey character. Maybe more of a protag, but since we play as Jimmy for most of it, he is kind of an antag. But for this post i will be putting him as a protag. Which reminder.

Protag doesn't mean good guy exactly.

Anyway.

Captain Curly is a burn survivor as well as a disabled man, with no skin, no hands or feet, and is left with one eye. The damage is pretty bad, and the Nurse ( Anya ) has done the best she could with what she had, which is pretty damn good considering all things.

How does the fandom treat him? Its a mixed bag but of course. Ableism.

They either give him "dog buttons", or infantalize him, coquette-ify him, erase the situation just because "its easier" or whatever else. And then theres some people who genuinely try by getting him to a proper hospital so Anya or another doctor can try and fix what they can, as well as give him an AAC device or a wheelchair, so on and so forth.

Its either shit as unfortunately expected or good enough that makes people genuinely do research or call out ableism.

Now lets look at William Afton. A villain, murderer, mad scientist and so forth. For this post I'll be strictly talking about The Fourth Closet William Afton and Burntrap.

For those who are not into FNAF. The Fourth Closet is a seperate timeline from the games, an AU. And Burntrap is TECHNICALLY not William now, but when Security Breach came out, we didn't know this.

A bit more backstory for those who do not know. William has an Animatronic suit that he can go into to perform or kill, but it has these things called springlocks. If something happens, they can go off and hurt and eventually kill him.

Moving on.

William Afton is a Springlock Victim ( and even though no fire happens in the book before the ending of The Fourth Closet, i would argue and say he does indeed have burn scars as well in the graphic novel ) aka ragged Metal throughout his skin.

As Burntrap, he is a metal burned skeleton with leftovers of Springtrap/Scraptrap with burnt flesh.

How does the fandom treat both versions of him?

As Burntrap: some people like him, some don't. Its purely because at the first reveal we all thought it was William himself somehow even though he is supposed to be dead-dead for real. His design CAN be cool, scary and great in the right spotlight.

However.....

Most people took the "haha peepaw" route of memes. Some being ageist and some being ableist. Making him a senile old man in a wheelchair or a walker with Vanny being his caretaker. Most of the time throwing him down the stairs or beating him with his mobility aid or threatening to. Sometimes they would also draw him in diapers with poop in it.

Utterly disgusting, ageist and ableist behavior all because this is a villain.

How do they treat TFC version of William? Well.... i don't see much of him to be frank. But either its coquette-ifying him ( which is just as gross as coquette-ifying Curly ), genuinely calling him pretty or being absolutely being ableist/rancid, or removing his scars all together.

What is the point I'm getting at?

If its a villain, like William, to Darth Vader to Hordak from the She Ra remake, to Belos from TOH.......

They get mocked for their disabilities because abled folks ( and even some disabled folks ) thinks the Villain or whoever deserves it as punishment.

But these same people will turn around and infantilize and baby, or dogify or coquetteify "good guy" disabled characters.

I haven't seen this in the Arcane fandom, while i don't doubt people have been ableist to Jinx, Silco or Viktor , at least it isn't as "loud".

Ableism isn't cute or funny. And while i UNDERSTAND these are characters- and that they are not real.

It HURTs real people.

And I'm talking as a disabled chronic pain person, so don't even start with me.

Ableists and shit will be deleted, ty.

[dira333]

Tummy Aches - Multifandom - Shinsou Hitoshi

Inspired by this post by @alienaiver -> Komori -> Kuroo

Warning: Bathroom talk. Nothing too graphic, but if that's not your thing...

“My stomach hurts,” you tell Shinsou one month into your relationship. He almost drops his phone.

“Are you okay?” He asks, breath coming rushed. “Do we need to get a doctor?”

“No,” you shake your head, a shy smile playing around your lips. “I… I just wanted to let you know. I don’t know what you’ve planned for today. I might not be too mobile. Or… you know… able to be far away from a toilet.”

“Oh.” Shinsou blushes. “I didn’t… I thought… I wanted to have a picnic. Is that okay?”

“Oh yeah, that’s lovely.” You smile. “I’m… Are you okay with me telling you stuff like this?”

“Stuff like- Yes!” He interrupts himself. “Of course! I want you to always tell me how you’re feeling.”

You laugh, rub your thumb over his hand.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I just… you never talk about stuff like that. It’s hard to even get you to admit that you’re tired or that your head hurts. I thought… maybe you didn’t like talking about this stuff.”

“No, it’s not…” He huffs, turning his head away for a second.

You’ve learned by now that he doesn’t mean to shut you out. That this is him trying to gather himself, to calm his brain.

“I’m not used to talking about it,” he admits softly a few seconds later. “That’s all. But I want… I want you to feel comfortable.”

“I want you to feel comfortable too. So… maybe we could grab some tea on the way? That would help with my stomach ache.”

-

“My stomach hurts,” Shinsou admits, his mouth pressed against your ear.

“How bad?” You ask, your voice barely audible. Your heart’s picked up speed already, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Shinsou’s not one to complain. If he mentions it, surely it must be-

“I wanna go home,” he whines into your ear. “Cuddle with you and eat soup.”

You huff, relaxing a little. “So not that bad?”

His hands pinch your side. “It’s bad,” he insists, but the smile in his voice tells you to lay off the worry. “It’s hot water bottle bad.”

“Mhm,” you lean back into him. “Bad enough to turn around so that I can put my hands on your stomach right now? Or does Mr. Tough Guy just want to go home?”

His sigh caresses your ear and the side of your face. 

“Fine,” he admits. “It’s not that bad. I think I had something with lactose by accident. But how much longer do we have to stay anyway? That Twinkle Guy can’t talk for much longer, can he?” 

You look up at the stage where Aoyama is in the middle of delivering a passionate speech. Or at least you think it’s the middle. He’s never known how to cut himself short.

“We’re leaving as soon as he’s done,” you offer, feeling his lips stretch into a smile against your neck before he leans back into his seat. 

Soon enough though, he’s back. 

-

“Are you pregnant?” Shinsou asks from the bed.

You groan. “It’s not funny.”

He snickers. “It’s a little funny. Why’d you eat all of the Chili Cheese Fries if you know they leave you bloated?”

“Because they taste soooo good,” you whine, rubbing a comforting hand over the swell of your stomach. “You have to admit though, I’d look good with a bump.”

“Eh,” he makes, eyes back on his phone.

“Eh?” You ask back, halting the movement of your hands. “What does that mean? Are you saying I wouldn’t look lovely pregnant?”

“You’re missing the glow. You just look like you’re ready to fart.”

“I’m going to fart on you,” you threaten him. “Pull the blanket over your head and trap you in it.”

Shinsou laughs, dropping his phone. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

He makes grabby hands and you walk over, into his embrace as he moves to sit on the side of the bed. His face rests gently on the swell of your stomach, the pressure just enough to be comfortable instead of painful.

From here, he can blink up at you, his eyes sweet pools of purple

“You’re not going to fart on me, are you?” He asks, voice rumbling, lashes fluttering. You sigh.

“I hate when you do that.” You brush a hand through his hair and he smirks, eyes closing in content.

“You wanna go for a walk?” He asks after a few minutes of silence, of your nails scratching his scalp. His eyes are closed, but you’re listening. “I can take that digestive tea to go for you and we can pet the cats in the neighborhood, let out that gas that’s trapped in that body of yours.”

“You just want to go pet some cats.”

“Maybe.” He smiles, presses a kiss to your stomach. “Or maybe I just don’t want to be farted on in my sleep.”

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[starberry-cupcake]

Hello, I haven't had time to read as much as I would want but I'm here with an update regardless, because if I don't keep these constant, I'm gonna forget things and this, so far, seems like a book in which I don't wanna forget things.

previously, in harrowbean the ninth:

this happened

currently, after "parodos" and ch. 1:

so I'm making up a timeline in my head with the information at hand

which is never straightforward

that'd be too easy, here in tlt we like to be kept on our toes

we like to be punched in the gut when we least expect it

so get ready for bad math

this would probably make our good friend palmolive atreides weep

I'm sorry palomilve's force ghost, I'm doing my best

SO

the first entry was the night of the emperor being terminated

the "parodos" bit (we'll get to that) is 14 months before the emperor is snuffed out

ch. 1 is nine months before the emperor kicks the bucket

I believe act 1 is going to be happening around that time, since ch. 2 seems to be following without another indication

because of what happens in "parodos" aka flashback, aka prologue 2: elecric bogaloo, we can attempt to estimate when the events of gideon happened

harrowbean tells ortus in the flashback that he's gonna train with aiglamene for 12 weeks

let's assume that's kind of the amount of time gideon trained, plus the time it took harrow to plot how to girlsplain, gatekeep and gaslight gideon into it

the only one girlbossing here is camilla, I don't make the rules

so, if gideon and harrow were ready to leave the ninth somewhere around 2-3 months after the flashback, it'd be circa 11 months before the events in the prologue

and ch. 1 starts 9 months before the events in the prologue

so gideon might have happened somewhere around 11-10 months before the prologue

I can't tell how long they were in canaan house (it felt like 12 years and 5 minutes at the same time) but I think about a month is mostly right, given that once bodies start dropping, things are all happening together

all of this is relative, since time in space is ????

but I need to do this for my own peace of mind

if you give me time measurements I'm gonna measure, ok?

I need to organize things

I know I will end up making a graphic at some point I just know it

this is what I get for calling palmolive a turbonerd

ANYWAY, MOVING ON

or, moving back, since we're in prologue 2: electric bogaloo aka flashback time

here we have ortus (the one we knew, not the one we will get to know, according to the characters list) telling harrow he doesn't wanna go to the field trip

this is ortus

if you're wondering why I don't nickname ortus, I'll repeat myself but "orto" means "ass" where I'm from, so that's enough to remember him by

harrow is like "I know you're underqualified but we're understaffed, so it is what it is"

the important part is that harrowbean says she sees the barbie in the freezer walking about

like a ghost or whatnot

she refers to her as "the body" and I assume that's barbie in the ice cube because someone reblogged my recap where I mentioned her and tagged

ever since then I've been wondering why she was referred to as The Body and now I'm gonna assume this is it

so harrow tells ortus he needs to hide the fact that she's mentally unstable

[non funny side note: masking is unbearable and it's awful we live in a social and cultural environment where we feel pressured to do it, especially when you're an adult having to fulfill expectations of supposedly "age-specific" activities and responsibilities, it's exhausting and I cried about that in therapy a mere week ago so, hitting hard, this bit

don't let people make you feel "less than" because the way in which you navigate the world and your experiences is different from what's expected in some theoretical socially constructed category

and fuck everyone who, in order to put people down in arguments online, ever make fun of those who aren't mentally, economically or socially as independent as what the category of an adult is supposed to be to them

argue with concepts, argue with opinions and facts, don't tear people down in the name of "moral upper hand" by telling people they're losers for needing help

side note done]

so, harrow entered the whole canaan thing not only carrying the weight of her house, her family and her entire people

she also came into it believing she's not mentally sound and seeing The Body walking around unnoticed by other people

whether or not her visions are mentally unsettled or something that actually happens because she opened the tomb, just the whole situation of her birth is enough to make anyone collapse, so we got you, harrowbean

we're here for you

and all that without mentioning what it'd be like seeing your girlfriend cavalier impale herself in front of you

I'm taking liberties with the 'girlfriend' bit but idk

so, next we know, 5 months have passed from that and harrowcita is struggling in her new environment of the clown emperor's ship

she is made to carry gideon's sword and she can't

she can't seem to know what to do or to communicate with said knowledge and she's throwing up a lot

WHICH IS GREAT!!!!!

I mean, it's not great that she's suffering

but it's GREAT because if she can't communicate with gideon's slurped soul, maybe it means gideon's soul has not been slurped AT ALL

more fuel for my wishful thinking of gideon's soul returning to her and getting regenerated and saved and being alive

I also like very much this situation in which harrow sees the sword as personified and they hate each other without gideon

it's like prim's cat in the hunger games with katniss

but with an inanimate object

I'm really liking that dynamic

is like they both miss her and can't relate to each other

ALSO barbie body ice cube is still there

just chillin' and being silently supportive, I think

not sure what her deal is but what if she's not the bad one here? because this emperor kind of sucks tbh

not in a 'he's evil' way but in a 'idk if he know what he's doing' way

I don't know about this guy tbh

so we're leaving off with harrow being mentally and physically struggling, ghost barbie roamin' the rooms, voices of people organizing stock and gideon in my head like this, walking in limbo to get back to us

also, another day without camilla

I thought I wasn't gonna have much to say and this is so long, I'm so sorry...

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

Do You Know What Today Is?

Summary:

Alpha!Captain Syverson x Omega!POC!Reader "Sunny" Sweet little snapshot 13 years in the future…

Warnings:

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Captain Syverson, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Humor, Female Character of Color, POV Multiple

Notes:

Hello Heathens! When I originally wrote this it was around my 13th wedding anniversary 2 years ago and it had me in my feels. Lots of things change when you're growing a family together and I just wanted to put those feels somewhere. When I write Sy, more times than not he is heavily influenced by my own soldier husband, hence this little story. I hope you enjoy. Happy Reading!!!

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

Having securely strapped in your 3 year old and given her ‘just one more’ kiss on the forehead, you turn to give Leti a hug. “Thank you again for taking all of them tonight. We’ll be sure to pick them up before it gets too late.”

“Yeah there will be no picking them up tonight, Sunny. Dante and I decided to make tonight a big sleepover party for all the kids. Well mainly the older ones. I’m not so sure how well the toddlers can hang.” She chuckles out.

“Are you serious?” You ask bewildered.

“Of course we are. When’s the last time you two had the whole house to yourselves for a night that wasn't heat or rut related? It’s our gift to you.” She responds.

“Honestly I can’t even remember the last time I woke up on my own time without one of mine needing me for something. It would be nice to have a lay in with my Alpha. You’re sure Dante is ok with this? That’s a lot of energy for one night. With my 3 that makes 5 pups in one house.” You ramble out.

“I’m sure. You’ve taken ours so many times without hesitation. It’s the least we can do. Especially on your anniversary. You guys need some time to be mates. Just an Alpha and his Omega. If you end up pregnant again I want naming rights though.” She nudges your hip with hers.

“Ha ha. Very funny. Factory is closed, remember? During my c-section with Kaylee I had my tubes tied once she safely vacated the womb. My body couldn’t handle another pregnancy anyway.” Your mind wanders to the difficulties of that pregnancy for a moment. “How about we owe you one. Could even be last minute.”

“That sounds great to me. I better get going so we can grab stuff to make pizzas and lots of snacks. Maybe a movie or two. I don’t want to hear a word from you until after 10am tomorrow.” 

“What if I want to check on the kids?”

“They’ll be fine and you know it. If anything happens we’ll call. Promise. Enjoy your time with your Alpha. Turn off the mom brain for the night. Just be an Omega.” 

“Okay. I’ll try. Thank you again.”

“No thanks needed.” She hugs you one last time. “See you tomorrow, Sunny.”

You stand on the porch as you watch your sister in law drive away with your three pups in tow.

Sy will be home in a couple hours. Better get myself ready for my Alpha.

Sy’s POV

As soon as I open my truck door my nose is assaulted with the aroma of perfectly seasoned steak cooking mixed with my sweet little Omegas intoxicating scent. I step through the door and hear music coming from the kitchen, a normal occurrence. What isn't a normal occurrence is the lack of squeals and giggles followed by a torrent of little feet racing to the door to greet me.

Why is it so quiet? Where is everybody?

I take my boots off, place my keys in the dish and head towards the kitchen. “Sunshine, I’m home. Something sure smells good in here.” I cross the threshold and am met with a feast for my eyes. Standing in front of the stove, swaying her hips while humming along to the melody playing through the bluetooth is my gorgeous wife in a little black dress.

“Welcome home Captain.” She turns around to reveal the low plunge of her skin tight garment. The girls displayed like a snack just for me.

“Fuck, Sugar. Look at you. Where are the pups? It’s awfully quiet.” I take a step towards my Omega to embrace her but she stops me with a hand. 

“They’re over at my brother's place for a sleepover tonight. Go have a seat at the table please, Alpha.” She tells me. I'm curious about what’s going on, so I do as I’m told. Not before sneaking a grope to that glorious ass of hers though. “Your horrible at keeping your hands to yourself.”

I take my seat and face her. “Can you blame me? I’ll never have enough of you. Need ta get my daily dose in.” I watch as she turns off the burner and plates our food, setting it gently on the counter before grabbing her phone.

“Do you know what today is?” She asks me as she changes the song, sauntering over to stand between my legs. I’m not having any of that as I run my hands up her thighs and place her on my lap. 

I trace a finger along her neck, grazing my healed mark that I reclaimed more times than I can count over the last 13 years. “If I didn't already know that it was our anniversary, you playing Tony! Toni! Toné! certainly does the trick.” She beams down at me with that radiating smile I love so much. I pull her closer and place my lips on hers, finally getting the kiss I’ve been craving since I left the house this morning.

“Mmm. That’s better.” I place a kiss on her claiming mark, I’ll be freshening it up later if what I think is happening is going on. “So let me get this right. The kids are at Dante’s and we have the entire house to ourselves until tomorrow?”

“That would be correct, Captain.” She relays to me while stroking my beard, a favorite pastime of hers.

“So. If I wanted to place you on this table.” I lift her up onto the table and spread her thighs wide enough to fit me. I notice that my little Omega is going commando under her dress and my dick turns to steel in my pants. She’s already glistening, slick slowly escaping out of her sweet little pussy, making a mess amongst her thighs. 

A growl travels up my chest at the sight before me. “And devour this sweet little pussy til I’ve satisfied my hunger. Then bend you over it and fuck you til your screaming in pleasure as you come undone on my knot.”  I watch her eyes dilate as her chest begins to rise and fall. “You’re telling me, I can do all that without fear of interruption. I can have my fill of my Omega and no one can stop me tonight?”

I watch her swallow and squirm a bit. “Yes, Alpha. That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Don’t you want your meal first?”

I just chuckle and pull my chair closer to the table. “Oh Sugar. I’ve got my first course right here and I plan on licking it clean.” I dive in and drag my tongue from her entrance to her clit, gently sucking the little bundle before pulling back, spreading her lips and thoroughly enjoying every last drop of her essence I can capture on my tongue. I don’t plan on wasting one single minute of us finally having some true time alone.

Every whimper and moan she lets out, only eggs me on more. Only thing on my mind is reminding my sweet little Omega why I’m her big bad Alpha.

The following morning…

Sunlight drifts in through the stained glass window across from your bed, bathing the room in a rainbow hue, rousing you to an oddly quiet home. As you slowly open your eyes, they happen upon a pair of cerulean ones gazing back at you. “Still trying to make sure I’m not going anywhere Captain? I thought you got over the whole creepy watching me while I sleep thing.” You groan out, attempting to tuck yourself in further. 

He just chuckles to himself, shakes his head and pulls you closer to his furry chest, kissing your forehead. “Never Sunshine. I’ll never get tired of looking at the woman that I stupidly almost let get away.”

“I’m glad we both came to our senses before my mom tried to intervene. I don’t even want to imagine what that plan would have been like.” Smiling sweetly at each other, you enjoy the lazy morning vibes, running fingers through sex romped hair, caressing any exposed skin that escaped the one sheet that is covering you both.

The temperature in the room begins to rise the longer your fingers trek across flesh. At some point your lips find themselves tangled in a sensual makeout session. Sy rolls over further onto his back, pulling you with him to lay your body against his large naked frame. 

He starts to skim kisses down your neck, nipping here and there. “Omega. I kind of have a situation here that only you can fix.” He lifts his hips for you to fully feel his ‘situation’. “Imma need ta bury my cock in this tight little pussy and watch you ride me until the situation subsides.”

“Is that so Alpha?” You raise up into a seated position against his abs, reaching behind you to wrap your little fingers around his thick girth. “It does in fact seem like a very hard situation. It would be my pleasure to assist you.” You lift your hips up, canting them back until his bulbous head just kisses your weeping entrance.

With slow, controlled movements, you lower yourself down his length to the hilt. You give a cursory grind, eliciting a moan to escape as the coarse hair along his pelvis stimulates your clit. You take your Alphas hands and place them on your hips as you begin a languorous pace, completely giving yourself over to the sensations of lazy morning sex that you’ve been without for so long. 

Morning quickies in the shower have been more your speed as of the last few years. Although they scratch the itch, it’s nice to be able to just slow down and enjoy each other’s bodies without a time limit. So many things have changed over the past 13 years, your body seeing the most of it. Children, though blessings, really do take a toll on one's body. 

You look down at the still broad, but maybe a little softer round the middle, body of your Alpha, running your fingers through his soft tuft of chest hair as you take what you need from him. His ocean eyes stare back at you with so much love that you almost lose your breath.

He rises from the mattress, pulling you in close, so that your chests rise and fall together, as your hands roam and your lips dance a familiar tango. You have no idea how long you remain locked in that tight sensual embrace of flesh and lust, before the tell tale signs of an impending orgasm creep up on you. 

“Close.” You whimper out, clutching tighter to his shoulders. “Alpha, I’m so close.”

You feel his hands grip your hips, increasing the speed you are riding him. “That’s it ‘mega. Give it to me. Drench my cock so I can fill you up with my knot." He trails kisses along your collarbone, making his way to your claiming mark. "Gonna stuff you so full you'll be leaking out the sides.”

The combination of friction against your swollen nub mixed with the hot wet sensation of Sy's lips leaving open mouthed kisses along your overheated skin was the perfect catalyst for you to succumb to the mind numbing full body orgasm that had been slowly building.

You closed your eyes and rode each wave as they ebbed and flowed. A cacophony of mewls and wails, accompanied by your Alpha's name, exclaimed from your now hoarse throat. 

Allowing your body to guide you, your lips find space along the juncture between your Alphas throat and shoulder, leaving a mark of your own for all to see.

The feel of your luscious mouth clamping down on his flesh is the thing that pushes him over the edge. With a deep growl, you are impaled on his knot, tying you in place as he sinks his own fangs into your supple flesh. Drawing blood as he reclaims his mate. 

You can feel each twitch of his cock as he spills inside of you, filling you to the brim like he promised. Softly withdrawing from your collar, he licks along your freshly marred skin, aiding in its healing. 

Eyes glazed over, as you both revel in your post orgasmic highs, you can't help but run your fingers along his beard as you admire the Alpha you once thought you'd never get to have. Thankful that you both came to your senses when you did and how lucky you are to have a great man like him in your life. 

Sy caresses your back as he looks up at you with a brow raised. "What's that far off look for Sunshine?"

You can't help the beaming smile that plasters itself on your face. "I love you. That's all."

"Love you too Sugar." He pulls you down for a kiss as he lowers himself back down to the bed, keeping you laid across his chest.

You remain, locked together, basking in the quiet afterglow when your phone begins to ring on the nightstand. Sy reaches over and hands it to you. You watch Letis' name flash across the screen before you place it on speaker. You don't even get to utter a hello before she's speaking. 

“Glad you survived all that pent up tension. We better not see you until dinner at your mom’s tomorrow night. Kit told me to tell you that she decided that her, Scotty and Kaylee need another day and night of cousin time. Also your mother is coming over today to teach them how to make her homemade ice cream and apple pie. So enjoy another night of freedom.”

Before you can answer, Sy snatches your phone. "Thanks Leti! See ya tomorrow at dinner." He hangs up your phone and tosses it aside. "Oh you're in for it now Omega. Only time you're leaving this bed is for a bathroom break. I have lots of lost time to make up for."

With a smack on the ass and a deep growl you feel him harden inside you. "As soon as my knot deflates your going to my good little omega and present for me." 

The next afternoon…

Fresh from a nice, long, uninterrupted soak you find yourself gazing out the window as you let your mind wander. Unbeknownst to you, the gaze of your Alpha, leaning against the door frame, is set firmly on you as he takes in your relaxed state.

I haven’t seen her this relaxed in years. I can't have that. Gotta find the time to make sure she gets to reset and recharge more often. 

Your solitude is broken by a smooth baritone. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you in my flannel. Looks far better on you than me.”

“I beg to differ, Captain. I love the way the fabric stretches across your chest. Buttons holding on for dear life. It’s quite the sight.” You chuckle as you turn towards him. “I keep waiting for the day when one finally fails and exposes the expanse beneath.”

He strides towards you, a swagger in his step. “Your sweet little words are about to get you tossed back into that king size bed.” He grins and lifts you up into his arms. “But I know how much you miss the little monsters and your mother would kill me if I made you miss dinner. Learned my lesson the one and only time that happened.”

“Should have known better. Didn’t think you’d ever be on the receiving end like that huh?” You belly laugh. “She’s scary when she wants to be.”

“As much as it pains me to say this, let’s get dressed.” He walks you both into the closest to put proper clothes on. “It’s too quiet round here. It was nice to have you to myself but I have to admit I kind of miss the chaos.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God, me too! Let’s go get our babies.”

Your mother’s house…

You’ve barely walked through the back gate before a squeal rings out. “Mama! Papa! Help!” Kaylee comes barreling towards you as fast as her little legs can carry her. “Unca ‘Te Dragon!” As if on queue your brother bounds around the corner, making his way over to you all. A roaring battle cry is heard before your two eldest, Kit and Scott, attack him from both sides, taking him down in one fell swoop. 

“Stay down if you know what’s good for you, Dante the Black.” Your daughter proclaims. “We brave adventurers shall protect the princess at any cost. Including ridding a Dragon of his head.” She mimicked slashing one's throat. 

Kaylee, now saved, strolls over to her siblings. “Tank you for saving me.” She bows. “Ook. Mama and Papa are here!” Three sets of eyes turn toward you, mischievous smiles affixed to their chubby cheeks.

“What’s with the smiles?” You inquire. “My children aren't this sweet.”

“Nothing.” They say in unison.

“Mmhmm.” You hum. “Come on. Let’s go see if it's time to eat. I’m starving.”

Your mother greets you with a tight hug, holding you at shoulder length to look you over. “Good.”

“Good?” You look to your husband, who also seems confused.

“Yes, good.” She nods her head. “You look thoroughly taken care of. You’re practically glowing. I’m sure if you hadn’t had your tubes tied we’d be welcoming a new pup to the family in 9 months.” She turns and walks toward the kitchen as you stare off, mouth agape. “Boys, put those muscles to good use and help me bring out supper.”

“Yes ma’am” They both say in unison. Before he heads off to do his task, Sy gives you a squeeze and leaves a kiss behind your ear. “She’s not wrong. Fucked out and relaxed looks great on you.” He gives you ass a little tap, walking off to assist Dante, with some extra swagger in his step. 

You're wrangling Kaylee into her booster seat, so she can eat with the ‘big people’. “Mama, why yo neck got wed spots? You hurt?” You look down at your observant little one. “No baby. Mama’s not hurt.”

Your mother enters the room followed swiftly by Dante and Sy. “That’s right Leelee. Your Mama is perfectly fine. Your Papa made those to show how much he loves her.” You give her a look of disbelief as all the adults bust out in laughter. 

Kaylee does not understand what’s so funny. “No funny. No laugh at Mama.” She chastises them, turning to her dad. “Papa. Want wed spots too?”

You all try your hardest to hold in the laughter as to not provoke the tiny terror. “Sorry, sugarplum. Those are special marks for Mama’s and Papa’s only.” She pouts. “How bout I let you have an extra scoop of that ice cream ya’ll made to prove how much I love you instead.”

Her face lights up at the prospect of more sugar. “Okay Papa. We good. Love you.”

You shake your head at your husband as you all sit down to eat. “Oh man are you in for it when she hits puberty. You got lucky with how easy going Kit is. Kaylee is going to run circles around you.”

“Well she is a mini you. I think I can handle it just fine.” He smugly states. “I did survive growing up around you after all. Hey Scotty, toss your Papa one of them rolls will ya.”

You run your hand along his thigh under the table, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “You’re lucky I love you so much. Otherwise I’d make you embarrass yourself at this table in front of your kids.”

You ignore his low growl as you fix a plate for Kaylee and yourself. With the look he’s subtly throwing your way, you know may be in for it later, once the kids are off to bed, and you can’t wait.

[spidey-555]

Things I hope the devs of CotL don't do, but a part of me feels like they'll do anyways (or might already be doing):

Revive Ratau if we chose to sacrifice him. Like I said on a previous post, it would invalidate the weight of our decision, and would open the floodgates of "can we undo other heinous actions we do?" If yes, then why should we care about the events of the game if they can all just be undone?

Make the bishops so unlikable and unsympathetic to the point where the audience ceases to care about them. I know they already aren't the most likable characters due to their abrasive personalities (excluding Shamura), but people still find them tragic, so taking away that would just be the nail in the coffin. Unfortunately, this one already seems to be happening, if the description for the graphic novel is anything to go by.

Make Narinder seem like the good guy or otherwise have the story take a side in the whole "sealing of the one who waits" debacle. This kind of ties in when the previous bullet point (especially with the "already happening in the graphic novel" thing), but if they did this, it would feel like they're just pandering to the Narilamb fans by having the story bend over backwards for it.

Have the Lamb be this flawless, unstoppable, and perfect being who everyone (except bad people) loves and will never lose ever. This one is kind of self explanatory. If the devs decide to go this route, then I feel many people would cease caring about the conflicts if this game. After all, if the Lamb can't lose ever, then what's the point of caring about any the conflicts in this game of the Lamb? I will admit that this one is more of a "me" thing than anything else

Cure the bishops of their disabilities. Heal the injuries, sure, but not the disabilities, please. In my opinion, it would be very ableist to do this, as it would imply that the only way for the bishops to be truly happy is them being cured of their disabilities.

Have there be a "canon" interpretation of the Lamb. At the end of the day, the Lamb is a player-insert character, and the fun about those characters is that they can essentially be anyone and can have many interpretations. Making a "canon" Lamb would take away the fun of those characters. This ties into the other Lamb related bullet point somewhat.

Have the Fox and Midas become followers once we beat them. This is assuming we fight them at all, of course. This one is also very opinionated. I feel like getting them as a follower would be bad because it would A) imply they have a chance at redemption and personally I like the fact that we have at least 2 villains we can just hate (here's hoping to more!) B) let us treat them however we want, which means they could not get the punishment they deserve. And before someone says that you can do the same with the bishops (the whole "not getting the punishment they deserve" thing), they already suffered in purgatory, which counts as punishment imo.

Rely too much on toilet and "naked people are funny" humor. This one is another opinionated one. Personally, I'd prefer if we got more character-based humor (hell, maybe some surreal humor as well) than humor that only a child would laugh at. I do want to post this one on the suggestions channel, but I'm afraid of the backlash.

I'll probably add more onto this when it comes to mind

[luniviravosshipper]

Oh my gosh, we’re going to see Aaravos shapeshift? Hell yeah!

We better get to see some funny references back to Human Rayla with Human Aaravos.

Also, I’m very excited about this little thing.

Not only does this make my little Viravos shipping heart happy to see Aaravos continue to talk so much to Claudia about Viren, but also there’s a lot of questions that this is raising for me.

Like, it’s really interesting that Viren is supposedly still not fully dead yet.

Last time when he was in that state, where we saw him in the Through The Moon graphic novel after he was pushed off the Storm Spire, I thought it was out of the result of unfinished business or something along those lines. And, looking at how much people are talking about how this episode basically confirmes the notion that Aaravos is unable or unwilling to lie, there isn’t really a reason I can see here for Aaravos to make this information up. Even if this is a simple ploy to get Claudia to trust in him more and that he will be doing something to help bring back her dad, Aaravos apparently confirms prior to sharing this that he actually isn’t even able to bring him back another time anyways. Or at least, from what I can assume, not until his entire plan is completed to bring the rest of the dead back to the living. But maybe Viren not being fully dead is the whole reason he can’t bring him back, even though that doesn’t seem to align with earlier with how he was able to revive him because he sounded like he was in a similar state to the one he’s in now.

Anyways, I’m mainly just really interested in what all of this means on a thematic level. What is the purpose in keeping Viren so close in distance to the characters in the series, quite literally by having him in between life and death, after everything the show runners have said about Viren’s arc being concluded back in season 6?

I mean, I don’t think they’re trying to extend Viren’s story more than they already have. There might be an ulterior purpose behind this writing choice here, like wanting to explore more of Aaravos and Claudia’s relationship and its progression by using Viren’s death as a tool. But I don’t see why he can’t be written to be fully dead in order for the writers to still be able to do that.

If Viren’s arc has already been concluded, shouldn’t he be allowed to finally rest in peace? He chose to sacrifice himself, he reached the revelation of his life that his purpose is to serve others, so why is he still bearing the burden of what happened in death?

And surely, the traumatic impact of this death isn’t comparable to the first one which happened so suddenly.

So… what does this all mean?

[eudaimaniacs]

dating cliff booth headcanons! (cliff booth x female reader)

character/universe: cliff booth (once upon a time... in hollywood)

warning/s: mentions of smut and spoilers for both the movie and book

notes: i am back from the dead and it is quite funny. looking back at my past works, it's a bit of a mess with the characters i write about from anime to pedro pascal. wrote this since cliff booth is one of my favorite movie characters and he makes me horny. i got inspired from reading the book and let me tell you, cliff is freakier there. i am unsatisfied with the lack of cliff booth fanfics here! anyways, enjoy! (scroll if you're not a fan or haven't watched this movie)

Dating Cliff Booth is like the wind; it is free and cooling. His chill demeanor and unrestricted spirit match the hot, searing Californian weather.

Long night drives in his Karmann Ghia are the best. Even though there are countless men with expensive cars, Cliff's broken-down one satisfies you more. You lay down on his lap as he drives anywhere that leads the both of you. Cliff drives fast on the vast road but still manages to sneak in a few kisses.

During the day, you persuade Cliff to go to the beach to chill, have a picnic, or have sex in his car. Afterward, both of you go for a swim on whatever beach he drives to.

Sex with Cliff is mindblowing, to say the least. He does it anywhere: the car, kitchen table, in the middle of nowhere, movie sets, etc. This man's sex drive is unbelievable, and you can't fathom how you keep up with it.

Whenever he's not in the mood, Cliff encourages you to be naked in the comfort of your shared home. He adores your body, especially when you wear things he likes: babydoll dresses, miniskirts, sheer dresses, his Hawaiian shirt, and graphic t-shirts. Cliff won't let you tear yourself down with the beauty standards of Hollywood.

Even with the controversial age gap and relationships Cliff has had in the past, you ignore people's comments and continue dating the chill Hollywood stuntman. Men like him are hard to find in the movie industry, and you wouldn't give up dating him because of other's opinions.

Walks with his beloved pitbull Brandy are fun as he recounts stories of his time in war and career as a stuntman. Cliff truly loves the two females he has in life right now.

You met Cliff when you starred in a movie with Rick Dalton. The two of you hit it off instantly. Even if he's not Rick's stuntman, Cliff remains humble and starts supporting your movie career. You don't see him as an assistant but an equal partner.

You try not to ask Cliff about his deceased wife as it might anger or trigger the tragic memory. When your friends press you about the issue, you have a heart-to-heart conversation with him, and Cliff tells you the truth but explains his side. You sympathize with your partner and promise not to bring the topic up again.

Overall, Cliff Booth may look like a stereotypical Hollywood stuntman and womanizer, but his hippie vibes and free spirit say otherwise.

eudaimaniacs - 2024