#bribery is effective

[slightartist]

It just keeps getting better and better 😂

Bernie teasing Cara is so hilariously accurate! Now that she knows, she'll bring it up at every possible opportunity just to get a flustered reaction out of Cara.

@slightartist college has been murdering me so here's a lil slumber party

[what-the-stark]

// Afternoon friends and hello new folks ❤️ Hope you're all having an awesome day! I'm around and attempting drafts (with a few canine speed bumps, see under the cut lol). Currently working on catching up, still have some people to reach out to about threads, please let me know if I've missed you!

Poke me on IM here or on disco if you wanna chat/plot/squee about fandom stuff/etc, I should be online most of the day.

She just had minor surgery Monday so she's kind of clingy right now, my poor lil boo xD those concerned eyebrows are in full effect

[desertsportshipping]

Youve seen Steven Stone? Now get ready for Wes pebble!!! (Offbrand Steven Stone cosplay. Bonus points for Aqua and Magma grunt Espeon and Umbreon outfits.)

Gloria and Hop tried to dress up Umbreon and Espeon but they gave up after they kept getting bitten.

The ask game.

[heartsbreaking-migrated]

i don't write men enough to do this, but hear me out

someone should use leo woodall for a ted Iasso oc who's like s1 jamie levels of fuck boy mess that joins richmond post s3 because he just has the vibes

(you can take this idea but you LEGALLY and MORALLY are obligated to plot with me)

[limulusamebocytelysate]

Help I Accidentally Made My DnD Antagonists Operational Security Too Professional And Now I've Written Myself Into A Hole - a tale in furious brainstorming for solutions

[brotrustmeicanwrite]

In his youth my dad basically became a professional assassin for the military specifically to not have to kill anybody. I’ve been wanting to write a short story about this forever but I just can’t get into a headspace where the MC isn’t the same kind of not-fun-asshole as my dad so someone else gotta do it.

To summarise, my dad was born in the Soviet Union and had to serve his mandatory military service. When his basic training was nearing it’s end he was looking for a way to avoid, or at least delay, being deployed to a front so he decided to act like he was planning on serving much longer than the mandatory period and signed up to do further specialised training. He did this a couple more times until he had went through basically every kind of training there was and ended up in a special kind of „paratrooper“ squad (officially). His higher ups were all excited about their new shiny squad, however that „paratrooper“ training just so happened to end like a week before the mandatory period was over. So when my dad was called to sign the contract to extend his service he just went „lol no“ and left.

[notbangoose]

Minecraft servers with online friends are fun because you get to bond with them in other ways

And you get to see the creativity and personality in form of how they shape the world

And then sometimes you get minecraft extorted and bribed into being a minecraft lawyer

[trialsinthelateromanrepublic]

historical outcome: A [acquittal], after eighth actio

you voted to acquit! history remains unchanged!

trial of Lucius Aurelius Cotta (cos. 144)

date: 138 BCE charge: lex (Calpurnia?) de repetundis (gravissima crimina [the most terrible crimes]) defendant: L. Aurelius Cotta cos. 144 advocate: Q. Caecilius Metellus Macedonicus cos. 143, cens. 131 (ORF 18.I) prosecutor: P. Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus cos. 147, 134, cens. 142 (ORF 21.VI) other: bribery of jurors by defendant widely suspected

Cic. Div. Caec. 69; Font. 38; Mur. 58; Brut. 81; Liv. Per. Oxy. 55; V. Max. 8.1. abs. 11; App. BCiv. 1.22; Tac. Ann. 3.66

[suiana]

(yandere! doctor x gn! patient) (cw: nsfw, yandere stuff, drugging, bribery, dubcon?)

your doctor is a little weird, you think.

he's a nice guy, yeah. does his work well, always smiling and constantly reassuring you that nothing's wrong with you. sending you off with a nice pat on the back as he emails you your prescription yet again.

but he's nowhere near professional.

his hands linger on your body far longer than what would be considered appropriate. eyes dark and unreadable as you tell him about your lovely significant other that's waiting for you outside of his office. how he'd try and talk bout his own life in an attempt to get you to stay in his office more...

if anything, he acts more like a possessive boyfriend than your doctor.

though you suppose he's just a little eccentric like that. he's a reputable doctor. everyone loves him, and so do you! he's treated you numerous times and his checkups are always so thorough. surely you can just let his... odd behaviour slide.

today you're coming in for a body checkup. lately you've been feeling dizzy and warm despite it being the middle of winter. you wonder if it's because you've gotten ill or someone's poisioning you. after all, there's been some weird holes in your arm whenever you wake up lately.

your excellent doctor has scheduled you in at 4.30 in the afternoon. he was busy earlier today, he says. you understand, he's a busy doctor. your spouse hasn't ended their shift yet so you came in alone. they haven't been answering your texts since they left home earlier today. you can only hope that they've been busy, you'll ask them when they come home.

entering his office, you are met with his polite smile and his melodious voice.

"please sit."

you obey, sitting down in the seat in front of him as you fiddle with your fingers. your doctor looks rather... distracted today. his usually tidy hair is a mess, his glasses wet as though they had just been cleaned.

"it seems that you are feeling warm and under the weather. do you have any other symptoms, my dear?"

"yes... i've been feeling rather..."

you pause, not knowing how to say it.

"aroused?"

you nod. your doctor seems to know you so well.

he hums, going back to his screen before putting on a pair of medical gloves and gesturing for you to lay down on the bed nearby. you oblige. hopefully he'll figure out what's going on with your body.

he starts off normally, prodding and pressing against certain areas of your body. you answer accordingly when he asks you whether they hurt, whether you feel weird or not. it's like any other medical examination.

"so how's your lover been?"

small talk. you realize he's always been a big fan of small talk. asking about your life, humming and smiling as he replies with answers about his own life too. sometimes he says something personal about your life, like how you go shopping on saturdays with your lover or how you sleep with the lights off. you wonder how he knows, is he stalking you? but you shake your head at the thought. you must've told him and forgot.

"they've been... fine. haven't texted me back yet unfortunately."

"mn, i see."

silence washes over the two of you as he continues prodding and touching you. his touches linger, soft and almost as though he was yearning to touch you even more. his tone of voice was nonchalant, like he didn't care.

you feel slightly uncomfortable.

"um..."

"hm?"

"i-i... i guess i'm worried about them. ever since they went out to work in the morning they haven't replied..."

"i am aware."

you remain quiet after that, pursing your lips as you ignore the way his touches have you growing progressively more turned on. you figure it must be a side effect of your condition.

"my dear, can you tell me what you feel what i touch you here?"

"huh? w- h-hey..."

you let out a soft moan as his gloved hands caress your clothed thighs. calm down, he says. it's just a part of the examination. you shudder slightly, squeezing your eyes shut. you feel the warmth in you grow as he continues to gently caress your thighs.

he's right, it's just a medical examination. he wouldn't touch you like that. plus, you have a significant other already. you shouldn't be feeling like this because of his touches. it's wrong.

you exhale shakily, fluttering your eyes open as you stare at him.

"i-it feels nice..? it makes the warmth worse, doc."

"i see... what about over here?"

you let out a gasp, eyes widening so wide you were sure they'd pop out of your skull. where... were his hands touching? surely you're dreaming?

but you weren't. when you looked down, you could clearly see his hands on your nether regions, gently groping and caressing the area.

"w-what are you-"

"i am merely testing to see which parts of your body react to my touch. please do not worry, my dear. this is all medical procedure."

"but it's my-"

"shh... i know. does it feel good? what do you feel?"

you shiver under his touch, whimpering softly as you try sitting up. were you overthinking it? he's just your doctor. this is part of the examination, it's fine.

yet you feel as though his touches have a deeper and more sinister meaning behind them.

"please don't-"

"why not? i've seen your significant other touch you like this multiple times. you've always reacted wonderfully under their touch."

"h-huh?"

your doctor pauses, eyes widening slightly before he lets out a chuckle. his hands continue palming and caressing your privates, almost as though he was... toying with you. with every touch you feel yourself getting more and more worked up, cheeks flushing even more.

"oh dear, i haven't told you have i? i've been keeping a close eye on you... i thought you'd have figured it out by now. your lover certainly has."

you squeeze your eyes shut as his touch, your mind growing fuzzy. what.. did he say? you can't quite understand... all you can feel is how bothered you're getting and how you want him to touch you even more.

"i am pleasantly surprised with how well you are reacting to my touch. i never expected you to react so positively to the drug."

"d-drug? ah... no... don't grope me like that..."

he continues palming at your clothed privates, a calm smile on his face. you can faintly make out the way his cheeks were turning red and the hardening of his pants.

"right, i did tell them not to tell you... my dear, your significant other has left you."

"no... what are you... talking about doc? hah... how would you know anyway..?"

"oh, because i told them to. i gave them some money a few months back and they've been working for me up until... today."

if you were a little more sober, you would've pushed him away and ran for your phone. unfortunately, the aphrodisiac you had been injected with last night has reduced you into a needy thing desperate for his touch.

"what did you do-"

"well my dear, didn't you notice the injection marks in your arm? your significant other had been administering you with tiny dosages of this particular drug i've given them. it's supposed to make you feel good."

"g-good..?"

you hear your doctor chuckle, his hands moving away from your sensitive parts. only to quickly undo the buckle of your pants and slip his hand down on your newly exposed skin.

your breath hitches, hips instictively bucking against his hand as you let out a low whine. you can't think anymore. your brain is so muddled with feeling good that you aren't even worried or disgusted by what he's saying. all you want is him, him, him. he makes you feel good.

"yes my love, good. aren't you feeling good right now?"

"mn mhm!"

you nod your head eagerly as his hands gently toy with your sex, rubbing and fondling you gently. he continues smiling down at you, pleasuring you with his fingers before pulling away. you whimper, face hot and red as you desperately try and pull him back. why would he do that? he was just making you feel so good...

"haha, you want me to continue touching you?"

you nod again. your doctor grins widely at your words, taking off his gloves before you hear the clink of his belt hit the floor.

"well, i suppose i'll get on with my second part of the medical examination now then."

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑 .

# with black-leg sanji.

milk started to leak from your nipples — and sanji was never one to waste food.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day one. smut (mdni). breast worship. lactation. praise kink. pathetic sanji. handjob. no y/n used. afab!reader.

WC: 2k.

sanji had witnessed a fair share of devil-fruits in action throughout their sailing. from those who were foolish in its essence, such as that of the candle wax; to those who were horrid and lethal — sanji could well-reminisce the brightness and the sharp ache that followed-in-suit to enel’s lightning strikes. he figured not another thing could surprise him; until his crew faced a short-lived and stupid battle against the pirates from a self-proclaimed stork-stork captain.

the opponents caused no harm. their captain, all but managing to brush your shoulder before being swiftly knocked out. relieved with your untouched health — as it was shown through your exterior —, the straw-hats’ lives returned to common routine in the aftermath, not a thing amiss. that was, of course, until you started to throw up.

countless examinations and book researches pointed out the source of your illness. the devil-fruit from the stork-captain was known for the ability to impregnate others. however, the user needed to touch two people, and that hadn’t been the case — which had sanji praying and thanking gods he hardly believed in. the mere thought of you, bearing the marimo’s child, was enough to leave him seething. comical reaction aside, chopper theorized that, as you had no bundle of cells within your uterus, you’d but suffer from some pregnancy-related effects for a while — perhaps a time equal to the duration of your period. their doctor advised you to refrain from touching others with the previous common frequency, as to avoid the triggering of said devil-fruit.

that had happened four days ago, and sanji was in the deepest pit of despair. you were far from sight throughout the day, gracing them with your presence only during meal times — and even then, your chair was placed the furthest away from the rest, as to avoid accidental brushing. sanji was half-aware of the anatomical consequences of pregnancy: nausea, cramps, swelling; and being unable to support you through it all was driving him insane.

the soothing herbal tea he brewed was intercepted. he had chopper trailing behind him for hours on end. whenever you aimed to spend time outside the walls of your room, the damned marimo stood by the crow’s nest door as though a guarding dog, unallowing him to proceed. even then, with the sunny docked and most of the crew elsewhere, sanji held no expectations of sharing an alone moment with you whatsoever, as robin had been the one assigned to stay behind in order to guarantee that the pair of you would be kept separated. sanji could neither argue nor defy a woman’s request, and robin could not be swayed with monetary bribery on your part.

he sighed. the weather was not suitable for lukewarm beverages, so he could, at least, distract himself from you with thoughts on how to turn thyme tea into a pleasant summer drink. a knock on the kitchen’s door — followed-in-suit by light steps — tore him from his thoughts, however. sanji’s nostrils were filled with the characteristic scent of your perfume, and he turned to your direction so fast he was positive a bone in his back cracked.

“my love!” sanji shouted, gripping the counter to resist the urge to jump you.

“hi,” you greeted softly, sitting on the side opposite from him.

his throat dried up. he had missed the sound of your voice and sight of your face. having you close yet again after four, painful and infinite days, had him squirming as though an addict being offered his most favored drug.

“how did you manage to convince sweet robin?” he inquired, whose worried you waved away.

“i have my ways,” you smiled. sanji fell to his knees, immediately bolstering himself up with flushed cheeks, for he could not waste a second of that moment. “missed me that much?”

“oh, mon amour, you have no idea,” he started out, placing one hand above his chest in order to profess his affection. “the sun doesn’t shine as bright without you. the food loses its taste. the vastness of the ocean brings not freedom but rather a cruel, monstrous prison—”

“shit,” you interrupted through a curse, the lovesick glance once held switching to one of annoyance. sanji’s attention remolded itself, his instincts all but shouting at him to pay closer attention to your needs, rather than to complain about his non-comparable misery.

“are you hurting, my pearl? do you need me to prepare something? perhaps some tea,” he fretted, searching for soothing herbs. “are there any cravings? i can cook it for you, no matter how offsetting.”

“it’s none of the sort, don’t worry,” you sighed. “i just need to see chopper later on. it keeps leaking.”

sanji’s eyes trailed to the wet patch on your shirt; two dots staining the fabric and offering him the clear outline of your nipples. his knees buckled yet again, although he had learned enough from the previous embarrassment to contain himself. pregnancy had a countless set of effects; he could not believe he had forgotten of lactation — a process which happened to have a direct influence on the size of your breasts. sanji caught himself drooling upon the sight of it; your hands supporting the weight you were unused to.

“does it hurt?” he inquired, licking his lips.

“it is far from light on the back,” you answered, squeezing it with a sour expression. sanji grew embarrassed at the speed of his erection — his cock aching amidst the coffins of his clothes. yet another renewed influx of milk had begun, leaving a trail in its wake; tearing through the thin fabric, molded into a droplet that fell on your thighs.

“mon ange,” he whined, losing his breath mid-sentence. sanji felt the surge of tears pooling in his eyes, the sheer yearn to hold you one enough to drive him straight into a bridge of delirium. “please, it’s been so long.”

his hands clenched and unclenched. a pathetic gesture; a mute plead to be given the pleasure of groping your breasts. the glance spared was one filled with uncertainty, for you were the rock whose surface swayed with the waves of his lust. it was fair to be cautious — if sanji was a most decent man, he, too, would have waited — yet, he was anything but. the man jumped through the counter’s surface to drop on his knees in front of you, his lips ghosting over the flesh of your legs as he glanced up at you, shedding a single tear.

“please,” he pleaded. “i won’t put it in, i just want—no, i need a taste. i promise i will make you feel good, lumière de ma vie.”

your fingers threaded through blonde locks of hair; infatuation filled-eyes. “you wish to be good to me?”

“yes,” he whined, pressing feather-light kisses to the extension of your legs. “more than anything, ma belle.”

you hummed then, at last conceding to his desire. when your touch left his figure in order to remove the ruined shirt, sanji raised to his feet, placing his hands on your waist.

“wait, wait,” he stuttered, clearing his throat. “i want it to be comfortable for you. a mere kitchen chair will not suffice.”

your thumb parted his lips, resting above the lower share. “you’re so caring, love. always treats me so well, what would i do without my knight?”

he whimpered, closing his mouth around the tip of your finger, his tongue swirling with regained desire. sanji’s arms cradled your figure closer, raising you from the previous seat in order to reach a more comfortable room. you retreated your hand, wiping the tears off his cheeks with fleeting brushes of your lips. adoring whispers were a blessing bestowed upon his ears — praises regarding his strength; his beauty; his love. he could feel the warmth of his pre-cum, smearing the tip and the underwear’s fabric.

he sat you with tenderness on the crimson cushes of the leisure room, placing one of its pillows on your lap. when sanji’s fingers met the edges of your shirt, he found them trembling.

“so eager,” you cooed, petting his chin. “will you be my good boy, sanji?”

“yes,” he whined, tender hands working on the removal of your shirt. the wet patch was more prominent, with nothing but the dripping fabric of your bra separating him from the anticipated and sacred vision.

sanji struggled with the clasp, yet you neither reprimanded nor complained. instead, your words were nothing but soothing. “take your time, there’s no rush.”

he slid the straps down your arms, dragging his tongue around the internal dampness etched on your bra’s cups. the taste had him shuddering; whining and rutting his erection against your bare leg as he attempted to swallow it all, sucking on the fabric. your touch was soft on his scalp; toying with the disheveled hair.

“how does it taste?”

“like heaven, ma moitié.”

a lonesome string of saliva connected his lips from the fabric of your bra, yet it was broken once he placed it on the couch. you tapped twice on the pillow above your lap, beckoning him closer. sanji had then positioned his head on it, eyes trailed to your swollen nipples.

“open wide,” you instructed, and he behaved as though a loyal servant; you, his muse and goddess. “that’s it, such a good boy.”

he moaned, witnessing as you pinched on your left nipple, an amount of liquid gushing over. sanji angled his head in order to catch it all; his tongue lolling out. the perfection of your body had offered him a feast and he would rather not waste a single drop. the initial taste drove him mad, and you raised a knee to drive his face closer to where he wished. sanji’s mouth closed around the hardened nipple, as he cupped and teased the other breast, striving to have it leaking as well.

tears rolled down and sanji closed his eyes at the enhanced taste, moaning with sheer desperation as he delved further, his tongue swirling around the bud as his cheeks hollowed in an attempt to coat more of your milk.

“open your eyes for me, my love. i want to see you,” you voiced out, brushing his fringe aside. when he caught a glimpse of your face — worked up and eager; loving and grateful — he rutted his hips against thin air, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “my handsome prince; my diligent heart. you, too, want to be touched, don’t you?”

sanji tried to convey his agreement through a glance, the thought of departing his lips from your breast to produce an answer all too unbearable. you tsked, tugging lightly on his hair.

“a good boy uses his words, and you’re good, aren’t you, san-ji?” you dragged the syllables of his name, teasing him further.

“yes,” he swallowed the milk beforehand, his lips leaving your nipple with a pop. the sudden lack of contact had you whining — it was brief; hidden; but there nevertheless. “please, love, please touch me.”

sanji whimpered as your fingers hovered over the waistband of his pants. “how could i ever deny my baby?”

the fabric of his pants and underwear lowered ever-so-slightly — only enough to free his aching cock — and sanji cried out when he felt the teasing of your thumb on the tip. his mouth latched itself around your nipple yet again, his fingers pinching and teasing the other one as if to coax your essence. the strokes on his cock matched the rhythm of his tongue, swirling and hot, coated white. sanji dragged out his teeth — a butterfly-touch; a temptive bite — and your lips produced the sound of an angel’s choir.

you shuddered, arching your back, face contorting with pleasure as he claimed your sensitive breast. sanji’s eyes were wide, drowning in the magnificent beauty. crimson, warm, red dripped down his nostrils, a trail that merged with the white from your essence. the milk he failed to swallow escaped past his lips, dripping on the pillow; wetting his goatee. the sound of his moan came out muffled, though the vibration had you mewling.

“keep going, baby, you’re doing so well.”

he was your knight; baby; perfect. neither a failure nor a nuisance, but your good boy.

the taste was intrinsic to you, yet unique; the sweetest beverage he was given the honor to drown in. inimitable, stimulating points of his palate that diverged from those teased by your cum. the divine essence born from your pleasure had a saltier base, it would have worked well as a topping for caramelized meals, though sanji hadn’t been able to convince you to use your cum for that purpose. your milk, however; oh, how he yearned to use it. how would it affect the flavor of a smoothie, a cheesecake? which ingredients would suit best to neutralize the overbearing sweetness?

sanji groaned with need, groping your other breast, his cock twitching once the scarce milk tainted his palm, trailing down his wrist; wetting the buttoned sleeves of his shirt. his lascivious tongue followed-in-suit, his nose burrowed into your flesh.

“t’es mon obsession,” he whimpered, sucking on the tender spots around your nipple, ensuing a painting of red and purple; leaving butterfly-kisses and soft bites, tearing up as his mouth failed to swallow you whole. “je t’aime beaucoup.”

your voice failed mid-moan, and you pushed his face back into your swollen niple, eyes rolling once sanji returned to his previous ministrations. your palm squeezed him; his pre-cum a lubrification that enhanced the pleasure from the masturbation. he rutted his hips, craving your touch, and your fingers busied themselves with his face; drawing heart-patterns, wiping the fresh blood off his nose. your thumb brushed against the milk that fell from the side of his lips, red and white creating pink.

when you smeared the tip of your tongue with it, tasting and moaning around your own finger, sanji combusted. he tore his mouth from your nipple, rubbing himself against your hand while moaning louder than he had ever done. a drop of milk fell upon his trembling lips and he opened them as wide as he could, tainting your palm with his cum while your milk did the same to his tongue.

you hummed with approval, pushing his sweat-drenched fringe off his temple. “let it all out, my love. i’m here, that’s it.”

sanji choked on your milk, whimpering whatsoever as a particular squeeze dried him off his essence.

“a good boy cleans up his mess,” you cooed, wiping his tears. “will you be good for me?”

“always, my heart,” he stuttered, his tongue lapping at the damp flesh of his other palm, chasing the sweet taste of your milk.

the breast he hadn’t sucked on leaked less; sanji wondered if he could change that in the future. your thumb gathered the milk on his cheeks and goatee and guided it to his awaiting lips. sanji sucked on it with diligence, drawing pleasure from your approving expression. at last, he sat upright, wiping his cum hastily with his underwear, whining as you sucked on the rest of his load that stained your fingers.

“don’t move,” he instructed, pulling his pants up with a cough. sanji removed the pillow off your lap and properly laid your back on the couch. he wrapped his coat around your shoulders, caressing your chin before pressing his lips against yours. “i’ll pick you a clean shirt and bra. some water, too. just relax, chérie.”

when sanji left, he made sure to hide your previous clothes inside his own closet, sniffing the fabric and chasing the vanishing scent of your milk; committing it to memory. he would not be able to live without that, his palate itching to be graced with the sweet flavor again. he had no idea of the duration of that devil-fruit, but it was of no problem, as all he had to do then, to keep on draining you off your milk, was put a real baby on you.

— 🐈‍⬛ : the nasty month is officially upon us! had to start with my beautiful french blonde, the light of my life. 🫡 let’s have some fun through october!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

31 / 1.7k / soap soulmate au, part 8

...

Peering down into the building from the adjacent rooftop, Soap sees you--his soulmate--through his sniper's scope. You. Here. On the wrong goddamn team again.

He mutters a curse into his radio.

You’re standing guard at your client’s back—a man who coasts under the radar as far as his criminal reputation is concerned, but a smuggler effective and dangerous enough to put him on the CIA’s hitlist. He’s hidden from view. Probably been told to stay away from windows for the night. You're obviously working security, outfitted to the nines as you would be on any job, rifle in hands, scanning the foyer for threats. You're unaware of 141’s snipers setting up on the rooftops outside.

Soap’s eyes darken. He doesn’t deal with internal conflict when he’s working. When things get complicated, he uncomplicates them. Right now, there are three thoughts in his head: 

One--he misses you.

Two--you blew him off to work for this scum.

And three--he needs to get his feet on the ground right now. You'll be lucky if all you get is an earful once he gets his hands on you.

He switches on his radio. "Got eyes on the target. LT, you in position yet?"

"Affirmative. In position," Ghost says, his voice gravelly and cold over the radio from his position on a neighboring rooftop. "Waiting on the signal."

Soap stares you down through his scope. His leather gloves creak and tighten around the handle of his rifle. It pisses him off how easy it would be to take the shot. If he were anyone else, you would be dead in moments. 

On the other hand, he could kill your client--your protectee--here and now. To hell with the mission parameters. It would be easy.

He sighs, flipping on his radio again. "Permission to infiltrate, Captain? Spotted a friendly inside."

Gaz's voice crackles over the radio instead. "Friendly this time, is she?" His tone makes it clear he’s spotted you too.

"Don't be jealous, Garrick."

"Positively green with envy, mate," Gaz replies, dry and sarcastic. "Too bad she’s not friendlier. Be helpful if you could actually get her to talk this time. Not to mention the other stunt you pulled."

Soap smirks and adjusts his scope to keep you in his sights. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

Gaz scoffs. "Plausible deniability is for paperwork."

"Aye. Maybe I’ll mention in my next report who tipped me off about her bein' our hostage, too."

There's a beat of static. "Got nothing to say about that."

Then Laswell's voice cuts in. "Kyle has a point. The building is locked down tight and it’s gonna be hard to get a clean shot. If she's with our target's security detail, that’s our ticket inside."

"And if she's not willing to help us out?" Price asks.

"Depends on how persuasive Soap is willing to be."

"I might've picked up a technique or two last time,” Soap says.

The radio crackles as Price takes in a deep breath and sighs it out through his nose. Somehow, he makes it sound stern.

"Intel is intel," Ghost says.

“Failing that, bribery’s always a solid bet for a merc,” Gaz adds. “If they don’t shoot you on sight.”

"Right, then," Price says. "Soap, regroup with Ghost. Prepare to infiltrate. Gaz and I will take overwatch. Ghost, keep on comms. We'll find you the main breaker switch. Soap, I need you to keep things quiet, you hear me? Mission objective is priority. Do not, under any circumstances, be seen."

Soap's blood is already pumping hot. He’s never loved overwatch. He’d rather be close to the action--get his feet on the ground. Get his hands on you. "Copy, Captain. Ghost, I'm aimin' for the north corner. Meet me in five."

…

You mill about at your post, feeling twitchy and unsatisfied. This job is, on first glance, the same as any. Your PMC hired you and a few other mercs out to act as bodyguards for a man with more money than morals, if the size and clientele of this gathering is anything to go by. 

You shift your weight, scanning the overdressed crowd for threats. You wouldn’t hate it if this party were cancelled early.

"Stand up straight," your teammate snaps. "You're working. Act like it."

You scowl, but say nothing.

"Don't make that face at me," he says, bite in his tone. Horangi. Like he’s so patient. He's on just as short a leash as you, and it's pissing him off just as much. The difference is he has the seniority to take it out on you. 

"I don't know how you do this without feeling like a caged animal," you mutter.

His eyes follow a woman in a tight red dress as she passes by. Obviously, he knows what he'd rather be doing.

"A cage with a paycheck," he replies. "Some things you learn to tolerate."

You scan the room again. Your protectee is still here. That's good. You're hoping he takes his sweet time before he goes downstairs to start the so-called afterparty. 

You glance at Horangi again. "You know where the cargo is? Downstairs?"

"Last I heard. I got the east wing of this floor," he says. If the idea of that cargo is bothering him, he hides it well. He’s a good merc and he does what he’s told, like it or not.

You were a good merc, too, up until three weeks ago. Worrying about what rich idiots get up to isn't what you should be doing. You're supposed to keep the client happy. It's not your fault he can’t party without doing illegal shit.

You heave a sigh. "I'm going to check on it."

Horangi’s eyes narrow, flicking to you. "No, you’re not. Stay put."

"Fine. I'm going to the bathroom, then."

"Fine," Horangi snaps. "Go to the bathroom, and make sure you come right back. And don’t talk to anybody."

You walk away, rifle in hand, making your way into the back hall. You pass into the dim sconce light and swear you see something through the enormous glass windows as you walk by them. But there’s nothing there.

The lights flicker once. A beat. Just long enough for you to notice before they even out again. 

You pause at a flicker of movement near the side door up ahead. You have a split second to wonder why there’d be nobody securing the side door before the lights go out.

When you turn and head back for the foyer, you stop short. Down the hall, where you just came from, looms a familiar shape. The white skull on his mask pops out of the shadows. 

You don't make it back to the foyer.

Before you have a chance to react, your body armor is yanked hard from the back. You're pulled backward into an adjacent room and shoved hard against the wall. You expect the bite of steel against your neck or your temple, but it never comes. 

“Quiet, now."

You register Soap's familiar accent before your eyes adjust to the dark. "Johnny?"

"That’s right," he says. He's still got that way of speaking that's almost a purr when he's being quiet.

It suddenly feels like a long time since you’ve felt the heat of his body, pinned tight between him and the wall the way you are. He’s coiled tight, all lithe muscle and restrained strength. His eyes glitter with that wild, predatory look. It’s decidedly dangerous and tantalizing.

"I missed you, darlin'. You're gonna make this simple, aye? I know you can," he says.

You swallow the immediate urge to comply. Holy hell, you forgot what that feels like. "You need to stop greeting me like this," you hiss.

"I'd love nothin' more than to greet you in a different way, but you've got to start makin'  smarter decisions first." He leans all the way in and presses his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling you in his full tactical gear. 

You muffle a sigh. He makes a quiet, content sound. 

"Besides, I kinda like this way of greetin’ ya. You make this little noise."

The radio on his neck echoes to life. You hear a tinny voice come through, saying something about an objective.

His eyes shut tight as he listens, one hand pressed firmly against the wall beside you. He doesn't back away yet. He's been dreaming of this for too long--laying his head on you and letting the sound of your heartbeat drown out everything else. It just can't fucking happen yet.

You feel, rather than hear, his low, annoyed grumble as he replies. "No, I copy. Just keep your bloody heads on."

You concentrate, trying to make out the voices of his teammates. It sounds like Ghost's voice.

Soap groans, his fingers flexing and gloves squeaking against the wallpaper. “I’ll be there in a minute, LT.”

You shift slightly. "Why are you here?"

A muscle twitches in Soap's jaw, and he pulls back so he can look you in the eye. "Should be askin' you the same thing. You’re on guard detail for a bloody criminal."

"It's a complicated situation."

"Then uncomplicate it."

You open your mouth to reply, but Soap's radio crackles back to life. This time, you can make out the words.

"Target located." Ghost's voice.

"Attaboy." Price. "Get him isolated. Third floor, east windows."

“Won’t be that easy,” Ghost replies. “He’s surrounded by civilians. Security’s thick.”

You tense even as Soap begins to relax. You fist your hand in the collar of his tactical vest, trying not to sound frantic. "Do not kill him. Johnny, listen to me."

Soap's expression turns grim, and he looks down at your fingers. Then he reaches up to cover your hand with his. "I know he's your client, but there's a reason we're here. He smuggles weapons. Big weapons, and not to anyone friendly. Just take it easy and let us clean up."

"No, listen," you snap, pulling him a millimeter closer. "He has the cargo here. It's not weapons. It's people."

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / [part 8] / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

[glowupwithamy]

Finish what you started and transform your productivity

Recently i picked up a book i hadn't read in a long time for the past week i hadn't been able to work properly my tasks were going unfinished so i opened my cupboard and saw that book right in front of me. Then i read the whole book in just a one night and it sparked inspiration in me ..So i thought why not share everything i learned with all of you?

So I'm giving you guys a structured summary of Finish The Art of Following Through - Taking Action, Executing & Self Discipline by Peter Hollins -

1. The Importance of Execution

The ability to follow through allows you to create the life you desire rather than settling for the one you currently have. The process consists of focus, self-discipline, action, and persistence

2. Barriers to Follow Through

- Inhibiting Tactics: These include setting bad goals, procrastination, succumbing to distractions, and poor time management.

- Psychological Roadblocks: These encompass laziness, fear of judgment or failure, perfectionism driven by insecurity, and lack of self-awareness.

3. Staying Motivated

To remain motivated holds both external and internal motivators -

- External Motivators: These involve utilizing other people or resources to encourage action, such as accountability partners upfront investments and self bribery

- Internal Motivators: These focus on understanding personal benefits and improvements. Ask yourself questions such as How will this benefit me? and How will my life improve?

4. Developing a Manifesto

A manifesto is a set of daily rules that guide your actions so her are the some key rules -

- Rule 1: Identify if you’re acting out of laziness and avoid it.

- Rule 2: Limit yourself to three major tasks per day.

- Rule 3: Establish daily limitations and requirements

- Rule 4: Reaffirm your intentions through statements like I want I , will and I won't

- Rule 5: Reflect on the future consequences of not following through

- Rule 6: Utilize the concept of "just 10 minutes" to push through discomfort.

5. Follow Through Mindsets

- Mindset 1: Recognize the worthiness of your efforts.

⭐ Mindset 2: Become comfortable with discomfort.

- Mindset 3: Understand that learning comes from completing tasks.

- Mindset 4: Manage stress and anxiety effectively

6. Overcoming Procrastination

Procrastination can be managed through strategies such as:

- Temptation Bundling: Combine unpleasant tasks with enjoyable activities.

- Creating Momentum: Make starting tasks as easy as possible to gain momentum.

- Leveraging Fear: Use productive paranoia to spur action but cautiously

7. Minimizing Distractions

Create a work environment free from distractions and focus on

⭐ Single Tasking: Avoid multitasking to eliminate attention residue ( I will also create a separate blog on this topic i used to face this problem earlier and i have used many methods to reduce my habit of multitasking so i will write a blog about it. Don't worry )

- Batching Tasks: Group similar tasks to improve efficiency.

- Creating a Don't-Do List : Identify tasks to ignore and avoid ( This method is literally too much helpful )

8. The 40–70 Rule

This rule suggests acting when you have 70% of the necessary information as waiting for 100% is unrealistic

9. The Importance of Rest

Recognize the value of rest and relaxation as essential for mental recovery

10. Common Pitfalls

- False Hope Syndrome: Avoid unrealistic expectations and set achievable goals.

- Overthinking: Avoid excessive rumination and focus on taking action.

- Worrying: Concentrate on the present and control what you can.

11. Developing Daily Systems

Establish daily behaviors that promote consistency and long term success

⭐ Keep a Scoreboard: Track progress for motivation ( Ive been using this method for the past four days it literally shows me where I am making mistakes and what I need to do to complete my unfinished tasks )

By following these structured advice you can improve your ability to finish what you start and achieve your goals

If you have any questions or tips to share feel free to drop them in the comments in here to chat , Stay connected for more tips and insights thanks :)

[queenbeeibee]

"It's a ton of fuckin' trouble, and I've only got four fucking hands to deal with it all! I haven't talked to Fizzlesticks yet, 'cause I've been trying to get in touch with Mayday, since she and I still have to have a fucking discussion about my Beelzejuice. Then I was planning to talk to Momo, see what he knows, grab an audience with Stolas if I can..."

"Momo won't let you within ten feet of Fizzie, Mams, let alone close enough to ask him any questions. You'd be better off reinforcing one of your jails for whoever's gonna face Lulu's punishments; we don't want them escaping like your prisoners have a habit of doing. I'm sure Lulu could come up with a reward to thank you for doing that. Or, hell, I'll make you a fuckin' canyon worth of fried rice, alright? Just... leave interviewing everyone to the rest of us."

"Wait wha-... geez, that's a lot to handle" that was all news to him, not that Mammon actually cared any of this. Let the hellborns do whatever they wanted unless it was messing with his ring or his fortune. "Haha! Ozzie's in trouble. That's why you don't help anyone for free" still he was somewhat amused by the situation.

"I mean thought of going and roast Fizzarolli's ass for this? Bet he knows somethin'. By all means let me do it, I wanna help my fellow sins"

[visenyaism]

which bg3 companion do you think would be the worst school teacher?

let’s get it on the board:

10. Unquestionably Astarion. he has no patience, is extremely prickly, is always looking out for himself first, hates children, and is bad at planning. he would not want to be a teacher or attempt to do it unless convinced through some kind of elaborate network of trickery or excessive bribery. he’s just not built for it.

9. Minthara. I debated whether to put her or Astarion last because I think that he would be worse at the job but she would probably end up causing more harm. I know she is running fascist panopticon classroom management at all times. type of person to leave the blinds shut at all times so it’s like an evil cave classroom with occasional nasty fluorescents. no one likes it in there.

8. Shadowheart. I don’t have a ton to say here I just don’t think her heart is in it. 

7. Minsc. enthusiasm can get you very very far.

6. Karlach. very very sweet and everyone loves her but also kind of scattered and goes on one billion tangents. could actually convince adolescents to enjoy gym class. 

5. Halsin. I think he would be pretty good at it but I also think a job that requires you to commit to having a routine would be terrible for him so he definitely wouldn’t stick around

4. Lae’zel. Hear me out she is extremely brusque and not always great with people, but the way that she is so straightforward and honest about her intentions, her goals, and what she’s trying to do to get everyone there would earn her a lot of respect very quickly. The people love a good clear consistent routine.

3. Jaheira. wins the award for most gay kids eating in her room at lunch. easily. never has a lesson plan but somehow her kids are always doing the best out of everyone in the building. takes no shit.

2. Gale. D1 yapper just like me for real. canonically IS a teacher. sometimes get stuck on tangents or forgets that students do not want to sit and listen to lectures for as long as he does. me personally I don’t think threatening to blow yourself up would be effective classroom management but male teachers simply get away with five times as much as they should

1. Wyll. One of the highest compliments I can give to another human being is that they would be an excellent specifically middle school teacher and I really think Wyll has the personality for it. he is so patient and warm and kind to others and unwaveringly principled AND extremely self-sacrificing so you know that admin love him. no one knows how he does it.

[paimonial-rage]

symbiosis - ayato

[random writing event] | requested by @andromeda-nova-writing

“My lord,” you began, “With all due respect, this is exactly why the new interns never last long.”

Ayato hummed in thought as he made his way down the halls of Tenshukaku. Upon his face was his usual smiling expression, a mask he learned early on in his career as Yashiro Commissioner. And there you were a few steps behind him as was proper for retainers.

“Is that so?” He replied with mock curiosity. “I can’t say I saw anything wrong with how the meeting went. Such is normal for the course of the commission, after all.”

He didn’t have to turn around to know you were shaking your head in exasperation.

“With all due respect, supporting you through seven financial meetings, four meetings with the branch families, thirteen inspections, and eight financial reports due by the end of the week would make even a competent worker cry.”

He nodded with a hand against his chin in thought.

“Yes, not even I expected they would break out into tears.”

“Excuse my forwardness, but any normal person would have learned to expect it by now. Perhaps it would be prudent to schedule a visit with the doctor to check your memory, my lord.”

He chuckled.

“The way you find such things to say is fascinating. Perhaps I should assign more work to devote more of your creative mind to.”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“My apologies, my lord. Unfortunately, my schedule is completely full. Perhaps another time.”

As he continued to his next engagement, Ayato couldn’t help but find it amusing the back and forth you both often had. You were a spy, after all, and not one of his. That being said, you were not anyone else’s either, much less one of his enemies’. You infiltrated the Yashiro Commission and worked your way up to his side based purely on personal motives.

Though it was well known he placed loyalty and trust above all else, you were a bit of a special case. A bit of research into you revealed you were from a fallen family subordinate to the Hiiragi clan. Through corruption and intimidation, your father was framed for bribery and theft and was thus executed by the Shogun herself. It would make sense that you, as the only child of the family, wanted revenge.

Thus, it was a smart move on your part to align yourself with the Yashiro Commission. As Ayato had connections and leads from all over Inazuma, as long as you remained by his side, you gained access to all the information you could ever need. As to why he didn’t expel you the moment he learned of your difference in loyalty? Your enemies were the same as his, but ones he couldn’t touch. It served him just as well that you would get rid of them.

Besides, he had to admit your company was much appreciated. You performed your duties effectively and efficiently without room for complaint. And though you had a tongue on you, it gave a reprieve from all the false smiles and niceties he had to endure on a daily basis. Dare he say it, he enjoyed being around you. It made him wonder…

“And once that time comes that you’re finally free, what will you do then?”

Would you leave, finally able to live your life for yourself?

He didn’t have to wait long for your response.

“I’ll devote my everything to you, my lord.”

He couldn’t stop the smile that came to his lips.

“Then I shall hold you to it.”

[tumblingxelian]

Personally, Chloe's been surrounded more by enablers but I won't deny that it can be its own form of abuse. They're just often a loaded words and I can't always tell how they're being used all the time.

Hope that came out right.

An enabler is "a person who encourages or enables negative or self-destructive behavior in another." Even if we only treat Andre as an Enabler, its still a form of abuse, just more round about.

& that is before we get into that he:

Shows he both can and will reign Chloe in when she negatively effects him.

Taught her to use bribery rather than to identify the thing she did wrong & apologize.

Explicitly teaches her to engage in corrupt & abusive conduct which makes everyone hate her.

Raised her to imitate her mother which is again super creepy.

Gets extremely possessive and seems to rely on her to be an emotional crutch or substitute for what he doesn't get from Audrey, which is multiple levels of yikes.

As well as seems to have largely left her to be raised by staff when he's not giving her the worst lessons or using her as a living prop.

Keeps her in the human equivalent of a fish tank with zero privacy or personality present.

Along with allowing and enabling his wife's verbal and emotional abuse, as well as negligence towards Chloe even while showing he can and will argue against her if she upsets him.

Andre fucking sucks.