#get yourself a hobby that is less expensive

[aquaglow]

fitness guide for Beginners & Lazy Girls 💫

don't start off trying to fix the issue with money. if you're not an active person who enjoys exercise, you shouldn't be paying for a yearly sub to an expensive gym just because the new year sparkle made you feel like 2025 is your glow up year. this feeling will wear off and leave you with a sense of frustration and failure.

do start off with finding out what kind of movement makes you feel happy and makes you come back for more. try out different things. dance, run, play a sport, swim, lift weights, do yoga, whatever it is, and really get the feel of what releases all those good chems on your brain.

take it very easy at first. if you don't ever work out, there is literally no reason for you to be doing the most out of a sudden and trying to make up for lost time in one session. you will only harm your body and discourage yourself by feeling hurt. it takes a long time to get used to new movement. give your body time and take baby steps when you start.

learn about what your body is and what it can be. if you don't know the first thing about your anatomy and your nutritional habits, you will fall into easy traps that take away motivation and harm your discipline. (for example, when you're overweight and you start dieting and working out, you'll likely lose a lot of weight in the first weeks, more than a normal weight person would; you need to know that, so that when your weight loss slows down, you'll understand that it's not due to you failing but a natural part of the process.)

separate your health from your appearance. fitness will improve both, but you have to have a very clear line separating them because they are not inclusive of one another. you can look gorgeous and be unhealthy, and you can be healthy and not look like your ideal self. it's very important to know which is which, and to always prioritize your health.

you don't have to do a lot (you actually can't do a lot at first like I said above) but just doing whatever is not gonna cut it either. no, doing one minute of exercise daily is not gonna bring about health or appearance benefits, no matter how hardcore that one minute feels like. you should aim for at least 30 minutes of focused and continuous physical activity, because that's how you get results but also it's how you build an actual routine.

always remember that you can change whatever isn't working for you, at any time, for whatever reason you decide. if working out in the middle of the afternoon is better for you than working out as soon as you wake up, go for it. if you suddenly realize that you're not a pilates princess but actually a muscle mommy, go for it. don't get stuck trying to follow one path forever, go with the flow. remember that this journey will change you, so it's normal that your methods will change too.

be very honest about your diet, because you can't outrun your fork, especially if your fitness goal is to lose weight. yes, building muscle mass and using your energy expenditure on exercise will help, but it's your diet that determines whether your body is receiving more or less than it is giving away, and if you're in denial about how much or how healthy are your food decisions, then it will be really hard to balance it all out. I'm not saying you need to give up eating anything at all, but if you are in a position where your diet is harming your health and/or your appearance, then it is obvious that you will have to sacrifice something, whether cutting back on portions and frequency, whether it's actually cutting off some foods.

and finally, embrace your laziness! embrace that you dislike working out and that it's not your thing! trust me, exercise is not something you have to love in order to do. if you have to treat it as a necessity rather than a hobby or a fun activity, so what? if you accept that you're never gonna be one of those "the gym is addictive!" people, and still you manage to work out and stay fit, it's only gonna feel thatuch more amazing to you, because you'll know you're doing something you need to do even though you don't want to do it. don't deny or fight against your nature, work with it!

good luck, little star 💫

[wtfuckevenknows]

I do not like this mail 😒

[why-rock-look-tasty-if-no-eat]

Below isnt even a quarter of everything I've through, but it is stuff that I have previously told to some friends and all of them have agreed that it's fucked up. So if you're not ready to hear about some stuff from my 23 long years of life then skip this for your sake and mental wellbeing

I have:

Been starved for most of my childhood, some of it intentional by an adult, but most of it came from being so poor that I, a 6-10 yo, had to fish for food to feed the family. I'm the youngest. I was 13-14 when I was denied food every other weekend at my sperm donors house because his gf didn't like my older sibling and I. She apologized to my older sibling about it but not to me

Lived through at least two murder attempts by two family members before I turned 12. One was strangulation (8 yo) another was drowning (11 yo). It wouldn't surprise me if there was attempts on my life while I was sleeping

Accidentally joined a space cult when I was 5, but that cult got ran out of town a few months later

Heard more death threats than my name, I love you's, and nighttime stories between the ages of 5-20. I played a cd of a Junibee Jones book when I 6-7 for comfort before my sperm donor threw it away

Developed a trauma response for sleeping because I thought my sperm donor would kill me in my sleep when I was at his house and my mother didn't believe me even though he was making public death threats against my older sibling and I on facebook. So now I can function for 30+ hours off 2-5 hours of sleep or sleep for 19 hours straight when I feel safe and have been particularly sleep deprived

Been so emotionally, socially, medically, psychologically, and physically abused and neglected that I spent most of my teenage years reminding myself that I'm human because I had to think myself as not-human growing up otherwise I would have gone insane otherwise

Complained so much about being hungry when I was 7-9 that I would sometimes be shoved in the dog kennel (with a corgi and basset hound) and forced to act like a dog to be let out. Including eating dog food and drinking from the water bowl

Been jabbed in the chest when I was 7 with a butter knife and told to shut up or they'd stab me with a kitchen if I asked one time for a spoonful of peanut butter out of the jar that they were eating from

Had to play ignorant when my mother implied that I, a 13 yo at the time, was purposefully plying for the gym teachers 'special attention' (nothing happened except for him looking at me but he did get charged with sleeping with a few cheer leaders)

Under the Geneva Convention I have been psyologically tortured, I don't really know how many times, by social isolation (once, two weeks where I got fed twice a day or they sometimes forgot about me the whole day) and sleep deprivation (idek how many times. Maybe three times?) while working at my last job

Been starved so much for so many years that I developed a habit of eating pieces of dead/ripped skin and scabs. Though I stopped eating scabs when I turned 8

Never said 'I hate this family' since I was 11 after I was practically dragged by my hair off the top bunk and into the kitchen and got my head shoved into the oven and told to be grateful that I have such a good family because other families put their kids in the oven and turned it on and if I didn't stop saying stuff like that, then that's what would happen to me

Eaten moldy foods like bread and grapes because I was to hungry to not waste food, and the mold would help my immune system get stronger

Talked my older sibling out of suicide when I was 14 just for them to suicide bait me every time we've talked this past year. Including on my birthday and our grandfather's funeral. No baiting during their birthday though

Almost lost use of my thumb because a corgi bit through my hand when I was 7-8 and I still have scars from the bite. I don't blame her for it though, my sperm donor was abusing her and I approached her right after he beat her. My mother didn't know this happened until last month despite it being a hospital worthy wound

Been told it was my fault for getting my sperm donor and I in a car accident when I was 5 because I was asking questions at an intersection. The other driver ran the red light and he made me get in a car with people I didn't know, but he did know, to go to kindergarten (where he was driving me) less than fifteen after the accident happened despite me bawling for him to not leave me

Lost two childhood homes (10 and 20) because I wasn't told we/they were moving out until the day of. An older lady poked fun of me when I was 12 for being materialistic about my items and told me about how she once lost everything as a kid and I had to pretend that I also didn't lose most of my childhood items when I was 10

Been in so much pain from a right hip nerve injury that I was able to sit through 3 hours of dental surgery with the local and topical anesthesia being to low of a dosage so I felt most of it. I signaled that I needed more but the dentist and assistant ignored me. That injury was purposefully undiagnosed by 3 doctors and now I have the equivalent sense of touch of wearing a rubber glove over my toes and I have to consciously think where I step

Been told by a group of 5 men that they wouldn't have hesitated to rape me if we didn't work together. I worked night shift with them in a loud environment and wouldn't be off schedule with them for another 2 weeks

My older sibling constantly invalidating my traumas by saying that others have it worse than me while bemoaning about their own life. My mother likes to pretend that my older sibling and I didn't have that bad of childhoods

Cried over two packets of fruit snacks when I was 19 because I asked a roommate to buy me some fruit snacks as a joke and didn't expect her to do it. I kept getting yelled between the ages of 16-18 just for asking to get a 5 dollar meal after a 2 hour long workout twice a week and was told that buying that for me would be a waste of money

One of two of my most prominent memories from childhood is when I was 8 during winter time I walked out of my bedroom before the sun rose and stared into the empty pantry for an hour imagining what it'd look like to have food in there and wondering if it was safe to eat raisins that were 10 months expired

Started a life long hatred towards raisins because they kept those there for months after the above happened and I didn't want to risk eating them but they were one of three things in the pantry at any given point

Two out two most prominent memory is when I was sick with a fever of 103°F (39°C) but was told by my older sibling to get something from upstairs for them because they were playing a game (TS2). By the time I got to the stairs I couldn't walk anymore so I crawled up them but collapsed a few feet from the door. Older sibling told me to stop being lazy and get up to finish my task and started yelling at me when I said I couldn't move so they got up to get it themselves. When they passed me on the stairs I heard them saying "So pathetic and useless, can't even do one thing right" and left me there crying until our parents came home an hour later

Been forced to sit outside during a thunderstorm when I was 6 because I was 'being annoying' about my fear of thunder and I wasn't allowed to go back inside until I finished eating my blueberry bagel

Developed a hatred towards bagels that I only got over a few years ago but I still refuse to touch blueberry bagels. My favorite bagel is cinnamon raisin ironically enough

Known for 8 years now that my older sibling wishes that I was never born and blames me for our fathers war related PTSD and abusive alcoholism after he came back

Never been smart enough for my mother despite me constantly scoring in the top ranks of national tests and being in; AP Literature, AP (English) Language, AP Chemistry, AP Physics, AP US History, AP US Government, AP Psychology, (not AP but its not a normal curricular so I think it gets a pass) Sociology. I played in regular/marching bands, competitve Jazz and City Bands, and a competitive marching band (I played 3 instruments) and I sang in Women's Varsity Choir. Not to mention that I could have gotten my Associates in Criminology before I graduated HS if my mother agreed to drive me to the second year campus. During my last year of national testing I scored in like the 70% range of my weakest subject (math) and my mother told me I could have done better even though I literally only missed I think 2 questions in the English section and like 5 in Science, I don't remember my general score range for History. Legit though, that memory still pisses me the hell off and her reaction as well as me not getting to complete my Associates made me give up for the rest of my HS year and a half. Genuinely though, out of everything that moment was the moment was the straw that broke the camels back but now that I got spinal surgery , I'm filled with the rage of a million yellow jackets whose nest was shooken.

And I'm turned out fine!

Nothing quite like dropping some deranged lore about yourself only to follow it up with, "and I turned out fine!"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

First, let me apologise for making people worry. I appreciate all those who reached out and I'm sorry that I couldn't get back to you all.

I have been through a very rough spiral. It was building for months, and I am still not fully okay.

For those who want context, it's under the cut.

I bought a house in May. It's expensive. I wasn't ready financially or in many ways for that step, but my partner convinced me. I told him as much but I was not heard. Alas, I have a mortgage, full time work, astudent loan, and an ongoing school program to contend with. It hasn't been easy and it caught up to me.

At the same time, a person who traumatised me and I have no way of fully extricating from my life, has moved closer. To keep the peace, I have to associate with him to a degree and he pretends that nothing ever happened. To him, it was nothing.

In June, I moved. It was hard and fast paced. I did most of the paperwork etc for the whole process and obv helped with the physical transition as well. I was responsible for deadlines and checklists for not just myself but my partner.

I was plugging holes in a sinking boat.

At the same time, I had obligations to my family. Every weekend if I wasn't dealing with the house and all that goes into it, I was running around to babysit or see family or whathave you.

In July, I pinched a nerve behind my tailbone. I missed a week of work bc my injury but it took longer for my to recover. I am still feeling it today. It was more than physical, but emotional.

I also got three periods that month. Hormonal can't begin to explain how fucked up I've been.

On top of all that, there are underlying issues associated with other trauma and discontent. I'm realising that I have been loyal and tolerant to the point of my own detriment.

I don't want to hurt people how I've been hurt, so I don't speak up. When people tell me something about myself, I let all the doubts planted in my mind from years of abuse convince me that they're right. I can admit my faults but often times I will think that proof of one flaw means everything about me is rotten.

People forget about me or just don't care. Both or either. They don't put the same effort in that I do. I find it hard to connect because years of disregard and neglect have told me that the other side just won't care.

But I'm not just hurt, I'm angry. I'm seeking therapy and trying to figure this out.

It all boiled over after my last post. Nothing I do is enough. For anyone. Not even when it's a hobby. I was frustrated bc the place I use for escape just made me feel like less than.

Obviously, I don't mean everyone or even the majority. I appreciate the discourse and fun and everything here! There are so many awesome people to interact with and I have missed you all, however, my headspace was bad. Very bad. I had thoughts I haven't dealt with in years.

I put my nose down and just went to work. I didn't wanna talk to anyone. I didn't wanna be in the world.

I did some reading, eventually some non-fandom writing, and sometimes, I just stayed alive.

I don't know if I'm really okay but I'm trying.

To those who have been so patient and supportive, you deserve everything. To those who are silent supporters, you do too. And even to those people who send me the most vile hate, you deserve to lift yourself out of the dark space you're stuck in. Hopefully, I can, too.

[silkythewriter]

Hello! Can I request alastor x reader where the two were married while they were alive, but reader died via illness or something and went to hell (though they never partaked in the cannibalism) and the reunite in hell?

“I'll love you 'til I'm dead”

Warning!: Angst, but eventually fluff! A bit of OOC since I haven’t written in awhile.. (.,.)💧

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note: LONGGGGG TIME NO SEE, HIYA! IM SO SORRY FOR MY HIATUS OF SORTS BUT I FELT LIKE WRITING SUM SMALL ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I apologize!, I hope you guys enjoy and I’m so sorry for disagreeing yet again!.

Summary!: Spouse! Reader dying via sickness, but reuniting with alastor in hell.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Louise (Louise)

I'll love you 'til I'm dead

Louise (Louise)

Not even if she likes the way you dance

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

First of all, he cherished you to the fullest content. As stuck up as he seems to be smile and all, he was in desperate need of support and attention. And you supplying both of those was all he needed even if he didn’t say out loud the tender touches and moments you both shared alone was enough to tell you everything.

Your relationship was nothing less then sweet and tender, and depending if you knew of his..ahem..little side hobby, it was innocent as well!

He cared for you so deeply, so desperately, to the point where you became his tie to humanity. Of course he knew how to play a role of a sane man, but even then he needed you to tie him to the small humanity and sanity he had.

Although not a big fan of physical affection himself he would in private of course, indulge in your soft touches, and hold. He and there he may quietly slip next to you just so you could softly run you fingers across his skin.

But of course the unviable happen, as the world ripped him of what he held so dear. Maybe as a punishment for his sins and misdeeds, or simply because it could.

Of course in the 30’s medicine was far from advanced, not only that but expensive. So when the news arrived of your newly found sickness all he could do was smile and nod at the doctor as if he wasn’t receiving the most dreadful news.

At first, he genuinely did hope for a recovery, he believed you would get better. Sure a tiny voice in his head was feeding him scary thoughts, and his gut twisted and turned. He felt something was off but surely it was nothing!, right?.

But as your health deteriorated so did his mental state and sanity, even worse then it once was. He put up a front though, for your sake and his, comforting you and saying how you’ll be fine soon, and recover then both of you could go off and do something you always wanted to do.

At some points of repeating this it really turned into him assuring himself. That your not leaving him, no, not anytime soon.

The more you fell ill the more you watched him spiral infront of you. And all you really could do was stare at him with sadden eyes as you gave comforting touches against his cheek or holding him close, even if you could barely pull yourself up from the bed you laid.

You felt your time coming close to ending, and somehow so did he. But unlike you he denied it to the fullest extent.

“Please dear don’t speak of such things, don’t worry yourself. You’ll be fine you’ll see!, now just rest my dear”

He wanted to believe it’ll pass over anytime now, ignoring the doctors he spent fortunes on. And sometimes he does blame them even if they just told the truth. He hated how they couldn’t help you, how he couldn’t help you.

So the day of you passing was the day he lost his final tie to humanity. If not for you, why give such a nasty world mercy?.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

The minute they lowered your casket and buried you with the dirt is also the day he decided to amp up his murders.

He’s not sloppy with his murders their always calculated and tidy but grossem. Even with this, losing you he couldn’t concentrate which didn’t help his case as his blood lust grew and grew.

Each and every murder his mind went blank, thoughts of you kept flooding in that he desperately wanted to rip from his mind.

If a woman that wore you same fragrant passed him. She would be gone in a matter of days.

Nights were colder, harsher, he always assumed karma would catch up to him, but to him not you.

He often questioned what happened how did it happen. How did you even get such a illness?, and why did it have to be you?. We’re you in heaven watching him in his pitiful state? Was there even such a thing?. If there was…he surely wasn’t going to see you he knew where he was damned to go, but you?, he was sure you deserved the Pearl-ist set of wings.

Depending on the days, months or years following your death, he’s like a ticking time bomb.

He yearns for you in such a way he’s humiliated at it in a way. He misses you desperately, widowed too soon, he always assumed it would be you to be in this position, but he assumed wrong.

Even then he couldn’t tell if he could subject you to the twist of his heart and guts. He would beg to die before you, but the pain he feels now is something he would never want you to feel.

Following thoughts of your death was also his. Would he get to see you soon?, one last glance before being damned?.

He never truly moved on, cause you were his only love. Loving someone for him atleast, was rare in a romantic sense.

At some point he genuinely does just continue his murders till his death, maybe it was your passing that truly killed him. After your passing he was a bit hasty, maybe that’s what lead him to be shot in the woods. But who truly knows?

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Now, after his death is where everything truly came together.

His rise to power was fairly quick killing overloads one by one gaining more voices on his radio.

But the lingering feeling of hope stayed in him…maybe you were here? Waiting for him?, But at the same time he hated this life for you, in such a miserable and disgusting yet admittedly amusing place(at least to him)

Now depending on how you found him maybe the minute his radio debuted. Or maybe by a game of telephone by the residents in hell whispering rumors and describing someone all to familiar to you.

Either way! You guys do eventually find each other. By chance or destiny is up to you

The minute he spots you, hears you, even senses you, he freezes. His smile never flattering but static surrounding the area as he processes what’s happening. Is this some sort of trick?, how..how did you end up here?

In a matter a seconds though he’s in front of you, looming as his shadow grows in suspense.

He holds his appearance and self image very important but in this tiny moment of silence. He lets it slip even if just a bit, smile never faltering but I’m his eyes a glimpse of renewed joy. Genuine joy, not form the harms of others but from something warm…something bitter sweet.

Maybe it’s you who pipes up snapping him from observing you like a painting in a museum.

“See?” You said softly grabbing his hand gently like you used to do, as you softly brought it to your face and softly planted it on your cheek. “I’m real” you said with a soft smile (SILENT HILL REFERENCE!!¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Depending on where you are he’s quick to whisk you away to somewhere secluded.

Despite the questions on his mind all he can do is silently stare at you taking in ever detail, even if some changes here and there, you were still you. The you that he missed so desperately for all too long.

Even if not one for physical affection he’s quick with holding you, scared of you being taken from him again, taking in all he can.

Your so much more precious then he leads on, and he’ll be damned to second hell if he loses you again.

In the period of first meeting you again he is keen on keeping an eye one you 24/7, doesn’t matter what powers or how long you survived without him in hell. He can’t risk it, especially not now as he started accumulating enemies so quickly.

He’ll treat you like it’s your first time dating, of course in his old time-y way, but either surprising you with flowers at random times of the day, or watching you get giddy when he kisses the crown of your head.

Now that he knows, and felt the pain of losing you, every moment you have together form than on is cherished more than before. He remembers every day with you like the back of his hand, what you ate, what you said, what you wore, and more!

He know’s…he knows he’s a messed up, and vail man. He understands the gruesome things he’s done with little to no regret. But if he did in somehow and some way do good, something good to earn you back in his afterlife man is he greatful for it.

Some nights he does just stare at you. He’s scared, he will never show it but he is. If he loses you again, for eternity, he’s not sure what’d he do with himself. And that, the fact you weight so heavily on him is the second scariest thing, first being losing you.

Over all, he’s taken aback having you back, but he gets use to it very quickly, your soft comforting touches and your voice that brings back a flood of memories is something he will never forget nor let ago, he isn’t losing you this time, and he’ll do anything to make sure of that.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

WOW THAT WAS LONG, I LOVED WRITING IT THOUGH OH MY GOSH I LOVED THIS IDEA, PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!!! \(^ヮ^)/

[kiwi-on-ice]

Outfits (on you) preference headcannons with Ashe, Moira, Sombra, Kiriko and Junker Queen with fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut 18+, both sfw and nsfw variations, dom/sub dynamics present, filming, slight petplay

Notes: i love women <3 Wanted to write something small to say thank you all so much for 200 followers! I'm blown away, thank you all for giving me so much support on my filthy little hobby.

Ashe:

Anything she’s bought you.

Ashe herself likes to dress in a way that shows she’s in charge, that shows she’s the leader of a dangerous gang. So when she starts dating you, she’s able to dress you up in all the ways she can’t dress

You’re her pretty doll, to be dressed up and twirled for her enjoyment.

If you have a specific style, she’ll use her wealth to get you the best and most expensive items of clothing that match you.

However if you don’t? Well she’ll have to just do you up all pretty won’t she? She’ll get the finest dresses and skirts (some that perhaps are a little too short), as well as lavish and expensive jewellery that matches.

She’ll love to have you try on the clothes she buys you, giving her a twirl so she can observe from all angles.

Anything that shows your thighs she’ll love, getting to fondle them when you both sit together. It’s her little way of showing that you’re hers.

Nsfw:

So when she said she’ll buy you the prettiest and most expensive clothes, lingerie is 100% included in that.

She’ll always come back from her travels with a pretty box, inside being a lingerie set she thinks will just look perfect on you.

Any colour that takes her fancy, although she has a certain penchant for red. The way it matches her lipstick really riles her up, so her kiss marks will match the delicious lace. But also when you both are in public, and she knows you both are matching in…less that obvious ways.

Although the reason she keeps buying you more and more is due to her impatience; there’s been several beautiful sets she’s ruined by tearing them off or stretching them in the throes of passion.

Other than lingerie, it comes back to skirts again. Don’t be surprised if when you both are intimate, she may take your skirt off last. Or perhaps leave it on, have you bouncing on her strap while the cute little skirt ripples and moves.

Moira:

A simple woman, she likes the items of clothing you might not expect.

She’s a fan of when you wear comfy clothes, like an oversized shirt that’s too big for you, so it ends around your thighs. Bonus if it’s her shirt; and especially bonus if it clings to your thighs while being a little baggy in other areas.

Although she’s also a very big fan of nightgowns. The more ‘feminine’ the better, especially if they’re quite old fashioned.

She finds them exquisite and quite refined, loving the way you look in them. Especially if she comes home from the lab late, seeing you peacefully in bed wearing a nightgown. White would be her favourite colour of them, however a red one would certainly have her mind racing.

Additionally, if you wear her lab coat…especially in her lab? Her face is heating up a little.

Nsfw:

If you’re wearing a button up, she’ll make you take it off for her. She’s a fan of you ‘performing’ for her, putting on a show. So she’ll make you slowly undo each button, revealing yourself slowly for her hungry eyes.

She’s also a fan of skirts, although unlike Ashe, they’re coming off first. Especially while you’re bent over so she can spank you and watch the handprints form.

Moira is also a pretty wealthy woman now that she’s getting her funding from…less than legal sources, with most of her income just going back into her research. So she’ll most likely give you some money to get yourself ‘something pretty’, and let you loose in a lingerie store so you can get something to show her later that night.

Although her one dirty secret she’s never shared is that the idea of you in a maid dress is…tempting. She isn’t sure why this particular fantasy of hers is one she’s reluctant to tell you, but maybe she’ll let it slip one night while her fingers are deep inside of you.

Sombra:

Another woman who likes to buy you things.

She’ll hack into your wish lists to see what clothes you like, and then get them and act like she just guessed (after a while you catch on, but don’t tell her, it’s more fun for her this way).

Honestly I think she’d love to see you in purple, wants you both to match.

Although I think she would also love an alt girl, with fishnets, chains, dark tones, you name it.

Will insist on being the one to pull up your tights or stockings or long socks, thinks its intimate, and will most likely press a kiss to wherever the garment ends.

Loves loves LOVES to see you in jeans, thinks they make your legs and ass look delicious.

Especially if you attach a chain to it, she'll love tugging on it to bring you closer and give you a kiss.

Nsfw:

she'll definitely love you dressing up in outfits made especially for sex.

her particular favourites are maid dresses and Halloween costumes (think sexy cat and sexy devil)

Due to her predilection for filming you, the costumes just make you look more stunning for her eyes and the camera lens.

She'll love to project the footage of you onto the wall to tease you, making you watch your body writhe and shake at her touch while you wear an embarrassing outfit.

Other than costumes, lingerie works for her too. Her particular favourite colour is purple (obvs)

She also loves lace bodysuits on you, adores the feeling of them under her fingertips as she runs her fingers up and down your waist.

Kiriko:

She loves fashion, so she'll adore a s/o that loves it too!

Definitely the type to want to share clothes, but if you aren't the same size as her don't worry, she'll just get two sizes of all the clothes she buys.

Really loves a y2k/streetwear style on a girl, especially the cool jackets. The type to have pinterest moodboards of the types of fashion for both you and herself.

Would steal your jackets constantly and wear them, getting to feel like she's yours.

And 100% loves it if you match her energy and steal hers too, makes her feel all giddy when she sees you wearing her jacket in public.

Also would love a partner who wears a lot of rings, you'll find her fiddling with them when you hold her hand.

Nsfw:

any outfit that you wear that shows your bra, whether it be a see-through top or an of the shoulder one where the strap is exposed, gets her going.

Definitely would love to snap the bra strap against your skin to tease you, especially in public.

She adores roleplaying, so anything where you both get to wear costumes.

Whether you're dressed as a sexy nurse , or a police officer or even a sexy secretary, she'll love it.

Will try and keep most of your costumes on in those scenarios.

Also loves it when you wear jeans, so she can grind herself on your thigh and feel the denim.

Junker Queen:

She's a strong and fiery woman, with an equally strong and edgy fashion sense. So to her, she'll love it if you dressed...dainty.

Is interested in the dichotomy, seeing you in the prettiest and most pastel dresses and tops and skirts and cute thigh high socks while she sits on her throne in her black denim and metal armour.

Loves anything floral on you.

Also loves texture, hence why she loves lace. She'll enjoy anything that feels interesting to her touch as she runs her strong hands over you.

But nothing beats your bare skin in her eyes, so if you're wearing a dress, skirt or shorts, you better have nothing preventing her from feeling and squeezing your bare thigh.

In that regard, she'll also love you to wear something off the shoulder too, so she can see your collarbones.

Nsfw:

Listen she's a simple woman when it comes to her desire for you, so nothing beats you being naked.

You'd try to wear the cutest lingerie sets but it wouldn't matter, she'd have them ripped off in seconds.

Always would complain, if it were up to her you simply wouldn't wear anything under your clothes (or anything in general).

However, that all changes when she first sees a playboy bunny outfit.

Something about it ignites a fire in her, and immediately she's getting you one.

Seeing the silly bunny ears on your head, the tights, the bodysuit, she wants you so badly it hurts. The vision of you on your knees in front of her, looking up at her like her own little pet, her own little rabbit.

If you do wear it, you'll create a monster...so good luck.

[parkerluvsu]

oh god I’m so obsessed with divorced dilf!Art 🫠🫠🫠 need him to ignore Lily’s cute babysitter flirting with him because he just can’t believe it that someone so young and pretty would be into him🥲but after a certain point he just cant take it anymore🫠🩷

yes omg.. dilf! art is so yummy ugh.. (im in the mood for something fluffier rn so this is mostly just sweet 😭 working on a smuttier fic tho!!)

his time with lily is precious, and as much as he'd like to spend all of it together, he is still a professional tennis player, and he doesn't want lily running to her mom saying how she gets bored when she stays with art, so he hires a babysitter. scrolling through the profiles of babysitters in town you're obviously the most qualified (but he won't deny that the butterflies in his stomach when he saw your picture may have influenced his decision). luckily, you live up to his expectations, and lily loves you immediately, always asking art when you're gonna come over (he worries that she likes you more than her own dad), but he's happy, happier than he's been in a while, and he can only credit you for that. you're around him for about a month when things start to change, your hand lingers on his when you take the payment for the day, your hands find his broad shoulders and squeeze them when you walk by, and whenever art finds time to look over at you and lily, you're always looking at him first. art is no longer a young tennis academy boy, he knows how you feel about him, and he'd be a liar if he said he didn't feel the same way. seeing how you are with lily tugs at his heartstrings, the scene of him coming home to find you and lily playing on the living room floor feeling much more domestic than anything he felt when he was married. however much bliss he feels around you, he knows that you could find someone better, someone your own age to spend time with. the downsides of not being a young athlete have caught up to him, more and more gray hairs popping up and his back getting sore quicker than he remembers. you don't mind though, you treat him like he's young, always inviting him to play with you and lily, making him wear silly hats and awful makeup done by his daughter.

eventually it's just too much to take, he can't handle being around you anymore without you knowing how he feels. he's a gentleman though, sitting you down after you put lily to bed, a cute blush on the tips of his ears. he tells you that he'd like to take you out on a proper date, to see you outside of his home and outside of your job. the date he takes you on is truly extravagant, better than any one you've gone on before, he picks you up from your apartment in a fancy black suv, opening the door for you and driving to the restaurant with a hand on your thigh. he buys the most expensive champagne they have, toasting with you over your good work. he's pretty quiet the whole night, letting you talk and share about yourself, committing every little detail to memory, even the small things, your favorite color, the name of your childhood pet and the hobbies you like to do. by the end of the night you're comfortably tipsy, walking hand in hand with him through the city, giggling at each other. art drops you off at your apartment, walking you to your door with a large hand on the small of your back. you shyly invite him in and he accepts, his tall frame looking comically out of place in your small apartment. you sit him down on the couch as you two talk the night away, both if you scooting closer to each other under the guise of "getting more comfortable". arts hand, that started gently touching your knee has gently climbed up to your inner thigh, casually enough that you don't notice, blissfully talking to him like you've been friends for years. seeing art outside of work is refreshing, he's less wound up, he smiles more, and you cant stop yourself from leaning in and kissing him, not even caring that he was in the middle of a sentence. your heart jumps into your throat when he reciprocates, his surprisingly soft lips working in tandem with yours. arts large hands come to cup your face, pulling you closer towards him. he can't remember the last time he had a kiss so romantic, his hands getting slightly sweaty with nerves. pulling away, the both of you are flushed with excitement, the feeling of a new and budding romance buzzing between you. art doesn't want to go any further with you that night, politely explaining that you're too important to him for him to rush things. kissing him again before he leaves, you wave goodbye, going back up to your apartment and flopping onto your bed, head still in the clouds from the passionate kiss you shared with art.

waking up at your usual time the next day you get ready for work, pulling on your shoes and heading out the door, you're met with a surprise. a beautiful large vase of red and pink roses sits on your doormat, a card resting on top. "i hope you like the flowers, they were the best i could get on short notice. i really did enjoy our date last night, you're a beautiful person, inside and out. i thought you could take a day off of work as a treat, im sure lily can spend a day with her dad instead of her babysitter :) i set you up with a spa appointment at 2, just say my name at the front desk and they'll know what to do. if it's not too presumptuous of me, ill pick you up tonight at 8 for another date. looking forward to seeing you. yours truly, art."

[charmercharm3r]

Tender Tendencies

OT8

Masterlist

Synopsis: Stray Kids' softer moments.

-

BANG CHAN

He has little to no free time. But that's okay, you knew what you were getting into when you met him. Spending time in the studio with him for hours on end and calling it date night was a regular routine. You'd bring something to do, work, a video game, maybe a new hobby. One time, you even managed to crochet him a beanie during the many hours he was working and you were there keeping him company.

Sometimes, though, Chan gets so engrossed in his work that he forgets you're there. With his big, expensive headphones on, fingers tapping away at his sound board or clicking his computer, it's too easy to lose himself in the music.

But when he comes back to earth after hours of not speaking a word to each other, Chan turns around in his chair to see you laying on your stomach, feet swaying in the air and focused on the game on your phone. A relieved smile spreads across his lips when you don't even seem to notice where his attention was.

Not that he tries to gain it, he just likes to watch you quietly curse to yourself when you lose or giggle coming across a funny video. He watches over your shoulder as you tap the share button and type his name to send. Chan doesn't interrupt you, but you eventually feel his soft gaze and give him a pretty smile that extends into your eyes. "I sent you something! Watch it later when you're done with work."

Chan pretends he didn't watch you replay it a few times, pretends he didn't intentionally not say anything because he loves how relaxed and carefree you seem when no one's around but him, pretends not to feel the blush on his cheeks and ears because he's so enamored.

With a warm heart, "I will," and leans over to place a gentle kiss to your forehead.

LEE MINHO

Minho is a get up early, go to bed early kind of guy. He feels rather productive in the mornings, maybe too productive for his own good. He does his little work outs, freshens up, cooks breakfast and sets up the ingredients for a two-person meal for when he returns home. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you that he does the cooking and you'll do the cleaning up.

He never asked you to, though, fully meaning to wash the pots and pans as soon as he was done so that it was one less thing for you. But this time, he forgot. Minho was too excited to let you try this new recipe he'd been dying to test. One of his favorite things was the full bodily reaction he'd get when you ate his cooking, jumping in your seat slightly and shooting him a look of pleasureful surprise as you savored the bite.

So full and content, after the both of you were done Minho had let out a long sigh and excused himself to the bathroom. When he returned, the table was cleared and the sound of the sink was running in the kitchen.

Your hair was pulled back messily, ear phones hiding what music was making you do a cute little wiggle as you scrubbed the dishes. Just seeing you so domestic and happy, it made Minho's heart ache in the best way possible.

To give you a gentle warning he was there, he put his hand on the small of your back. Acknowledging him with a smile and small, "hi."

Wordlessly, Minho takes one of your headphones and puts it to his ear. "Show me your moves," he encourages, stealing the drying rag and helping you finish the chore.

SEO CHANGBIN

The self proclaimed gym expert he is, Changbin has always had the desire to work out with you. Your job was just very time consuming, almost as much as his. However, Changbin was active for a living so working out didn't require him to use as much of his reserved energy as it did you. It felt more mentally draining than anything to even think about going to the gym.

When he did finally convince you, he was so excited. You warned him that normal exercises would be hard for you since your body wasn't used to it the way his was, but he assured you that he'd help with the pace and wouldn't push too hard too fast.

Of course it was going to hurt the next day, you just didn't anticipate how much. The night of, Changbin instructed you to take a cold shower to soothe your muscles. It helped a little, definitely making the feeling of getting into your pajamas and snuggling next to him in bed just a little bit better and warmer than usual.

The next morning, you almost didn't want to get up to even use the bathroom because your legs were so sore. Being the gentleman he is, Changbin woke up so he could carry you to the toilet. He was going to retrieve you when the bathroom door swung open to reveal you holding onto it for dear life. Legs shaking to carry your body weight, Changbin helped guide you back to bed with a sympathetic smile.

As you fell face first into the sheets, he grabbed some icy-hot soothing gel from his gym bag, kindly maneuvering you onto your back. "You did so good yesterday, baby." His voice was so soft, gentle as he poured some into his hands and rubbed them together.

His big hands spread the gel over the expanse of your legs, massaging and rolling the knots out as best as he could without hurting you too badly. "No pain no gain, right?" You sighed through your gritted teeth.

It was almost as if you were convincing yourself that it was worth it, the exhaustion and soreness was worth the time you got to spend together. Hearts in his eyes, "that's right. Tomorrow... leg day."

HWANG HYUNJIN

He wouldn't call himself a tortured artist, no. By no means was he tortured, but moreso unsatisfied with his work. The pieces he liked, he barely liked. The ones he didn't, he despised. Hyunjin felt that way with all of his art, except when it was ones that were because of you.

The watercolor blue roses? You told him your favorite movie is The Corpse Bride. That landscape? That was the view of the walk you went on together when he asked if you'd take him as your boyfriend. There were the randomest sketches littering his desk because you'd say something or make a certain face and it'd inspire him, he had to get it out of his system some how.

A particularly difficult rough patch in his creative process convinced Hyunjin that his current medium of water color and acrylic paint wasn't meant for him. He had a habit of holding in his feelings until they burst, but he opened up to you eventually. You asked him if he wanted advice or just someone to listen, to which he answered, "both."

You suggested taking a break, looking away before it was all he could see, maybe even trying a new medium. Hyunjin took all your advice to heart, voicing his only problem was that starting a new medium can get pricey. There wasn't much either of you could do.

Or so he thought.

He was locked away in his mini art studio again, staring much too intently at the blank canvas. You knocked and let yourself in. Hyunjin only looked up when you put a hand on his shoulder and sat yourself in his lap. A few chaste kisses to his cheek, you suggested your thoughts. "White sand? That works?" You explained the research you found about the subject. Amidst your little ramble, Hyunjin couldn't help but look at you in awe.

"Think I went a little overboard when I was searching it up. I also looked for other things you could use, but this was the most convenient. I stopped by the art supply store on my way over here if you wanted to try. If not, I can just return it-"

"No!" He said a little to loudly, making you jump in his lap. "I mean, no. I'll use it. I want to." The little smile on your face was the loveliest thing he'd ever seen. The only thing that could've rivaled it was the pure happiness when he gave you a painting of the shore and white wash. It was the first one he'd finished in a long time and couldn't have been prouder, "thank you for always thinking of me."

HAN JISUNG

There was very little that this man couldn't do. The workaholic homebody he is, Jisung brings his music with him everywhere. That means even in the house, he has his headphones on or his phone is up to his ear listening to whatever it is he was working on.

It also means he has trouble taking care of himself. But who doesn't sometimes? You didn't find any trouble in doing some chores here and there to help him out, Jisung always found something to do to give back for your kindness.

The one thing Jisung wasn't, was a mechanic. Lyricist? Check. Producer? Check. Musical genius? Check. Knows how to fix a washing machine? Pass...

Your place was in desperate need of renovating. It was a lot of little things that wasn't really a big deal, just an inconvenience. The washing machine specifically was getting on your nerves.

With laundry building up and your busy boyfriend finally having time to spend with you, it was a matter of what could've possibly been the best way to manage your time. The issue was that the lid of your washing machine refused to close. The only solution you could find was to sit your entire body weight on it while the cycle continued. It's been an uncomfortable past few laundry days, to say the least.

Killing two birds with one stone, you suggested Jisung bring his laundry to your place to clean, that way you help him out a little while also helping yourself. He did so without thinking about it.

Jisung started to get concerned when you didn't come back from saying you were going to wash the clothes. That was forty five minutes ago. Upon searching for you, Jisung found you with your legs criss-crossed on top of the washer, scrolling through your phone. He tilted his head at you and asked what you were doing. When you explained to him your dilemma, he was confused. Why hadn't you told him? Why were you bearing this burden by yourself? How were you still kind enough to offer to do his laundry knowing this was what you had to do?

Putting his phone away, Jisung joined you in the laundry room, standing in front of you and leaning into your lap. "What are we watching?"

"There's still fifteen minutes left on the cycle, you don't have to wait with me," you protested but still took him into your arms.

"Fifteen minutes more I get to spend with my favorite person."

LEE FELIX

Hugs are basically a second language to him, going in for one every chance he gets. When Felix hugs you, he doesn't let go. It wasn't obvious at first why he never did. You just assumed that it was because he liked skinship.

Yes, that was true. But it was also because he loved the way you smelled. Fresh out of the shower, just got back from work, sweaty from a run, it didn't matter, you always smelt good to him. He held on long enough to get a good whiff of your scent no matter the occasion.

For that reason, he hated laundry day. The smell of the detergent always washed away the smell of you, meaning Felix was all over you until his hoodies and shirts could've been mistaken for yours by anyone else.

Also for the same reason, Felix goes out of his way to buy bottles of your favorite perfume specifically for when you can't be together. He keeps a travel sized version of it in his bag for long days at the company, when he has to go overseas, or when he just misses you. Felix sprays it on his own clothes and pillows, holding it tightly to his body and pretending you're there with him.

He came back to your place after a week without seeing you, the travel bottle almost half empty now. The initial embrace lasted so long that you were almost dreaming he was in your arms. Then you got a whiff of what definitely wasn't his usual cologne.

When you asked him about it, Felix just laughed and pulled out the mini perfume from his bag. "You don't recognize it? It's yours."

"You say it like it was supposed to be obvious," you grin, fully blushing.

"It's so obvious I should be embarrassed. I'm not, how could I when you smell so good?"

KIM SEUNGMIN

Seungmin isn't necessarily averse to fashion, he knows what he likes. It just so happens that he favors the oversized look. There's also specific brands that he buys from more than others. His closet consists of so many basics that no matter what he pulls out, he can make an outfit in minutes.

That's why he loves getting ready with you in the morning. You get up before him since you typically take longer. When you're done and picking out your clothes, Seungmin always asks if you could choose his outfit as well, always reassuring that he'll love no matter what you pick.

He wears the outfit proudly every day. When one of the members compliments something he's wearing, he tells them that you chose it for him. It's his way of showing you off, even if you aren't there.

When you are with him, Seungmin's usually asking you to wear his clothes, too. Showering at his place, he makes sure to give you one of his shirts even if you brought your own pajamas. Another way to show you off. If you happen to run into one of the members in the hallway wearing his shirt, they make a point to tell you that they liked the outfit you picked out for him. Though, it's usually something more like, "you dress him better than he dresses himself."

"And they're right," Seungmin says, kissing your forehead. "Except you wear my clothes better than anyone."

YANG JEONGIN

His job doesn't end, even when he goes home. Jeongin feels this way just about all the time. Having to take off his stage outfits, his makeup, wash his face, the time it takes to shower, seems like it drags on all night long.

By the time he gets to having to apply his skin care, Jeongin's eyes are closing and is on the verge of falling asleep. Coming back into his room, you're waiting to greet him. As much as he wants to match your cheerfulness, he just can't. So he falls onto his back without so much as putting on moisturizer.

"I brushed my teeth, at least," he tiredly jokes, forcing his eyes open to watch you pace around his room. You were grabbing his usual night time essentials, putting them on the bed beside him and climbing onto his lap. You sat on his torso, preparing his step by step routine. "What're you doing?"

"Finishing up for bed," you reply, telling him to get comfortable.

Slowly and gently, you apply the essences to his skin. Jeongin hums as you massage his face, hands resting on the tops of your thighs and not letting go. He doesn't even as you finish and set the bottles aside. "Just need chapstick," you whisper, moving to get up.

Jeongin pulls you back down, peaking his eyes open to bring you down for a kiss. It's soft and sensual, unrushed and purely just feeling you. He sleepily hums again against your lips, reluctant to pull away no matter how close to drifting off he is.

By the time you do, he's rubbing his lips together, "mmm, cherry flavored."

[evans23]

Falling

Pairing : Hans Gruber x Reader OC

Summary : In the remanence of winter, Hans makes an unexpected encounter, which will bring a bit of peace in his chaotic life. Unfortunately, there is no happy ending for a man like him. 

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Smut. Angst. No happy ending here.

A/N : Enjoy dear reader 😁

Part II

Also read on AO3

It was a chilly afternoon in the middle of Spring in Kensington Park. It was your favorite park, even though you didn't really know why. After all, according to your parents, all the parks in London looked the same, but you disagreed with this assumption.

Also, you were slightly biased as you worked as a saleswoman in the little shop adjacent to the palace. You didn't like your job, but you loved the castle and its history. In fact, your dream was just in front of the park, in the form of a school called Royal College of Art. Unfortunately, after having got your A-level, you didn't succeed in getting a scholarship and your parents were unable to finance your study. Therefore, you started to work for a local McDonald's, and then, you found yourself lucky to get a job in the souvenir shop of the castle, thanks to a relative who ceaselessly reminded you what you owed him as the job was well-paid and not as tedious as your previous one. More than often, the customers, tourists for most of them, were far more agreeable than the ones who frequented the fast food, and you didn't stink of the greasy fries each night when you came back to your cramped apartment.

Also, the uniform was more comfortable and flattering than the horrendous one you had to wear and you could let your curly hair hang down your back without being reprimanded by your boss who was afraid of seeing one of your unruly hairs in the middle of a bag of fries. On the other hand, what should have been temporary had become permanent and while all you're friends were breezing through their plan life, you struggled to keep your own life on track.

That day, you had finished your shift in the early afternoon and as you weren't ready to face the loneliness of your life, all alone in your small apartment with a too expensive rent for so few rooms, you had decided, despite the coldness, to sit on a bench in the Walk of Flower to read one of your favorite book: "Notre Dame de Paris" from Victor Hugo.

You didn't notice the stranger who sat on the bench next to yours. You were too engrossed in your book for that and anyway, the park was well frequented by many people, locals, residents, or tourists for you to really notice them. 

However, there weren't too many tourists at this time of the year. It was still too cold and rainy. It will change in less than one month. The park, the street, and the castle would be crowded for six months or more until the winter settled anew, a welcomed calmness around the venue but also in the busyness of your work.

During the summer, you didn't have any time for your hobbies as it was busy as it get at each hour of each day. You often worked more than eight hours a day as you were always willing to help your overworked colleagues either in the shop, the little coffee, or at the reception, diligently searching the bags with your little flashlight, looking for anything suspicious or sharp.

“Love is like a tree: it grows by itself, roots itself deeply in our being, and continues to flourish over a heart in ruin,” said the stranger in a thunderous voice and with a perfect French if it hadn’t been for his slight accent.

Startled, you looked up at him. He was tall, his broad shoulders and his black hair adding something quite intimidating to his natural charisma. He also had a hooked nose which was nothing short of engrossing.

"I apologize," he said, now speaking in English, "it wasn't my intention to frighten you..." 

"[Y/N]," you said, your voice shaking a little bit.

He chuckled at that. He knew what effect he had on women.

“Nice to meet you, [Y/N]. I am Hans.”

He didn't know why he had given you his real name. Not that he was hiding in London. Actually, he owned a humongous and beautiful property only 30 minutes by car from the park. It was a secure place where he came after a rough mission or when he needed to vanish into thin air for his own sake.

“You're not from here,” you said, having recognized a foreign accent.

“Indeed,” said Hans who got up.

You looked at him from your bench. He was more intimidating up in front of you than before.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing towards the bench where you were comfortably settled.

“Of course,” you answered, moving your bag to make room for him.

“So, you read in French,” he said as a matter of fact.

“I don’t understand everything,” you admitted.

"I believe so, Victor Hugo is a convoluted author, even for a native speaker."

“And where are you from?” you insisted, wanting to know where this delicious accent came from.

He chuckled at your persistence, yet he told you he was from Germany. Hans was able to imitate the British accent perfectly, but he hadn't felt the need to deceive you. You looked quite innocent, and you were. Anyway, how could you have guessed you were talking with a thief, a mobster, a criminal ?

He talked with you the whole afternoon. You understood very quickly that he was an educated man, with a lot of culture and a perspicacity you could envy him for.

As you parted, he kissed the back of your hand like a true gentleman, the one in your romantic books. You didn't know what had got into you to confide so many private things about yourself to a stranger, but talking to him was easy, and there was so much on your heart that you needed to confide. Maybe because you knew he was just a stranger that you would never see again had made things easier. You felt lighter but also disappointed to know that you would never see him again.

But Hans wasn't indifferent to you either. Hans was intrigued by you. He had already noticed you a few days before when you were walking in the streets to reach the metro station. You were wearing your work uniform, that's how he knew that to find you, he had to go for a walk around Kensington Park.

Hans didn't really know what had caught his attention about you. Your face was certainly pleasant to look at but it didn't stand out from the crowd, your stiff gait spoke volumes about the pressure you felt in your life and you had a disillusioned pout that probably didn't make many people want to get to know you.

However, there was something about you that had intrigued him. Enough to want to meet you at least once. He hadn't expected to see you sitting all alone in the Walk of Flowers. Walkers rarely sat for too long, the cold quickly numbing their hands and feet. And yet, there you were, reading your book, a book that Hans had read many times in its original version too.

He had been surprised at how easy it was to talk to you. You were intelligent, not as much as he was, but not everyone could come up with escape plans and high-flying heists, you had wit and a dry sense of humor that he appreciated. You also had that disillusioned look of those who had already seen too much to still be truly surprised by existence. Hans knew this expression well for having experienced it himself. 

It was a long time ago when he was a teenager dragged from home to home, separated from his brother, missing a father who died when he was only eight years old, and a loving mother. Their mother to Simon and him was an alcoholic who beat them for yes or no. It was often his big brother who suffered their mother's anger because he was not afraid to defy her or to come between her and his little brother. He remembered a day when his mother who had drunk more than reason and had just been dumped by her umpteenth boyfriend had destroyed the model airplane he was building for no good reason other than to make her son suffer as much as she suffered. She had raised her hand to hit him, but Simon had stepped between him and her, taking the slap instead of Hans.

Hans shook his head as if to make all those bad memories go away. It was a long time ago. When he was just a weak little boy. It was before the army that he had met an important man who was a member of German high society. Thanks to him, after his military service, he had been able to join the university where he had received a solid education in history, foreign languages, economics, and politics. Hans was intelligent and able to absorb thousands of pieces of information in no time. His eidetic memory was a real gift that had allowed him to join the Volksfrei where he had definitely hardened himself. So hardened that his ruthless behavior had earned him being kicked out of the organization.

He had worked as a mercenary for a while after that, but tired of having to answer to other people's orders, Hans had decided to become his own boss by carrying out his own terrorist activities with a group of trusted men in his pay. It had been a long time since the weak little boy had disappeared in favor of the man he was today.

And yet, your presence this afternoon had awakened something vulnerable in him. He wanted to see you again. He was going to see you again. He was going to make you his, whether you wanted it or not.

He thought about it, developing a plan to make you fall into his nets. He wanted to be subtle to give you the impression that you had had a choice. Little did he know that you were already partially won over to his cause. Indeed, the man with the imposing stature, the broad shoulders, and the nose of a Greek god had not left you indifferent.

He returned to Kensington Park two days later, waiting for your service to end. He watched you from afar to see you following the same path as last time to join the Walk of Flowers where you sat on the same bench as last time, another book in your hands.

"Did Victor Hugo get the better of your determination?" he asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

You jumped, which made him chuckle.

"Hans," you said, a hand on your chest, "you scared me."

"Sorry, that wasn't my intention."

He sat down next to you without asking your permission, not that you minded.

"So, Victor Hugo?"

"Finished last night."

Hans arched an eyebrow, surprised. You had finished one of the most difficult books in French literature in two days and after admitting that you didn't always understand the formal language of the book.

"Test me if you don't believe me," you had challenged him when you saw the doubt etched on his features.

He didn't need to be asked twice and had to admit that you had read the book, which make you be more surprising and impressive than he thought you were at first glance.

This little game of cat and mouse had lasted several months. Hans could afford it, his last heist, the robbery of a Russian bank, had earned him enough to live on for the next ten years. Of course, he wouldn't sit idly by for the next ten years. He wanted more. Much more. Millions to be able to disappear forever and live the great life he had always dreamed of. Except that now, he wanted you to be part of his dream.

However, how could he involve you in his life without putting you in danger ? And how could you never find out who he really was ?

Some of his men had a woman in their life. One of them was even married and had a child, but was it really a life to have to hide who you really are from the person who shared your bed ?

Of course, Hans had had many women in his arms, but never a woman he wanted to spend more than one night with.

Six months after your first meeting, he had invited you to his secluded house. A large mansion that could have contained your apartment, your parent's house, and your big sister's house all in one. Hans had cooked for you and charmed you a little more with his words that flowed like honey in your ears and his German accent that made you shiver constantly.

A year later, you were an official couple, much to Hans's delight, who for once in his life hadn't had to fight too hard to get what he really wanted. And God may be his witness, he wanted you, loved you and he would never let you go. You lived at his place and while he didn't hide the fact that he was a rich man, you didn't really know where the money came from.

Officially, he had introduced himself as a businessman. But you knew that something wasn't right in what he had told you. The designer clothes he lavished you with and the one he wore every day, the jewelry he showered you with at every opportunity, the luxury cars and the incessant business trips, something didn't add up to what he was telling you.

Yet, he was a passionate lover and even if you had already seen his bad temper surface when something displeased him, with you he was nothing but tenderness and patience. A trait that no one would have granted to Hans. He himself was amazed at how much he could be another man with you. You brought a calm to his life that he had ignored he had needed until now. You were the calm in his tumultuous life as a gangster.

You had tried to question him several times, but each time, he had turned you down, sometimes harshly and you had ended up understanding that what he did for a living was a subject not to be discussed. You were not totally stupid and even if you didn't know exactly what he did to earn all this money with which he flooded you, you assumed that he must be part of the mafia. Or something like that. Something that should have made you run away, but you were already too much in love with Hans, too captivated by his mysterious aura and the danger that surrounded him to be afraid of sharing your life with a mafioso.

The fact that with you, Hans allowed himself to be softer, and more vulnerable, only made him more endearing. Your parents didn't approve of the relationship between you, your mother having immediately had doubts about Hans' intentions. But neither he nor you gave any importance to what others might think. You wanted him more than you had ever wanted anything else in your life, more than you had wanted to study at a prestigious art school or become the next greatest painter in the United Kingdom. You were hopelessly in love with the mysterious German man who had captured your heart and soul.

Although Hans was less demonstrative in his feelings, he felt the same way about you. You were the calm, the peace, in his hectic life. He found solace in your simple presence. Many times he had told himself that he had to end this union, that he had to push you away, but each time he had tried to do so by being cold and distant with you, your confusion and incomprehension at his sudden coldness towards you had made his heart melting and he had always come back more in love and tender than before, doing his best to be forgiven for his harsh behavior towards you during the day with a crazy and passionate night of love.

Hans wasn't naive, he knew that if he wanted to build something serious with you, he would have to put an end to his activities and disappear with you. At some point, he would have to confess the truth to you even if he was well aware of your suspicions and how close you were to the truth.

It was on September that he had a brilliant idea. An idea that would earn him millions. Enough to ensure a comfortable life for both of you in Fiji or anywhere that would please you. He was going to attack the CEO of Nakatomi Tower. A high-flying theft worth more than $600 million if he and his men played their game well.

But it was not going to be easy and his sharp mind had to prepare the best of plans. He had already worked out dangerous, complicated, risky cases, but this one was the most important of his entire gangster career. When a man steals $600, he can just disappear, but when a man steals $600 million, he knew that the police and secret agencies of the whole world will be after him. Unless they thought he was dead. However, he was no longer alone now and he had to think of you, which made the whole organization of his plan more difficult than usual, even for a gifted person like him.

His brother had warned him that getting emotionally involved with you was dangerous for him, but he had not listened to him, sure of himself as usual. Except that for once, Simon was right. The love he had for you was worse than all the enemies he had faced so far.

"Another departure Hans ? You've already disappeared all of October," you said wearily.

It was the first week of December and he had just told you that he would have to be away until the end of December on business trip.

"Work is work. You're happy to have nice clothes, to parade around in beautiful jewelry, to wear designer perfume, and to live a life of luxury. Without me, you would never have been able to quit this job that made you unhappy and to treat yourself to these art classes that you wanted so much," he pointed out more harshly than he had intended.

But he was tired of your reproaches. It had been the same for a few months every time he had to leave. It was stronger than you. You wanted to know the truth, a truth that he refused to tell you and it hurt you. Yet, you loved him too much to have the courage to leave him.

"If you think I'm with you for the money, then you don't know me very well Hans. Keep your clothes and your jewelry. I never asked you for anything! If you did it, it's because you wanted to!"

"Exactly! The best for you is everything I want and nothing else. We've been together for two years, you're an intelligent woman [Y/N], and you know that this life that I allow you to lead doesn't come without sacrifice."

You didn't answer because somewhere, somewhat, you knew he was right and even though you were frustrated by his unspoken words, you loved enjoying the life of luxury he was lavishing you with.

You sighed, closing your eyes and rubbing your forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Hans came closer and took your hands in one of his while the other gently massaged your lower back.

"Mein leibe, I promise you that after that everything will change."

"How?"

"You'll see. In the meantime, don't give me the cold shoulder. I don't want to go to the United States knowing that mein pearl is mad at me. I won't be able to concentrate if I know that you're angry with me," he coaxed you.

"I'm not angry Hans, I'm just... worried and... I'd like you to be completely honest with me."

"Mein leibe..." Hans sighed, "everything will change, I promise, but no more questions for tonight, okay?"

You nodded, still a little frustrated by his silences that separated you more than they brought you closer. Sensing the distance that your disappointment was putting between you, Hans placed a series of kisses along the back of your neck.

"Bitte, mein leibe, bitte, don't be angry with me."

"Hans..."

"Bitte," he whispered in your ear.

You turned your head and he took the opportunity to capture your lips. Very quickly, your kiss turned into a fiery passion. He hoisted you easily and you instinctively hooked your arms around his hips. He led you to the bedroom where he gently laid you down on the bed.

"You can't always get away with a quickie, even if sex with you is better than a pizza from Rudy's," you said jokingly.

"Mein leibe, I'm sure that my cock inside your tight pussy is the best way to have you under my control," Hans whispered with a predatory smile.

You gasped and your breath got caught in your throat. Hans's smile widened even more and with an expert gesture, he removed your t-shirt. You weren't wearing a bra to his great pleasure and he immediately went in search of your chest to suck on one of your nipples. You moaned in pleasure, your hands running under his t-shirt to caress his firm chest.

"Tell me you want me," Hans whispered.

"Hans..." you moaned under his caresses.

"Say it!" he ordered while walking two of his fingers near your entrance, delighting in your pussy swollen with arousal and your wetness that wet his fingers even though they weren't penetrating you.

"I want you, Hans. I need you, I need you inside me," you said breathlessly.

It didn't take much for Hans to help you getting rid of your skirt and stockings. You unbuttoned his pants and he helped you take them off, while with a quick gesture of his hand, he got out of his t-shirt which joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

He didn't bother with the foreplay, entering you directly. You were already so wet that he had no trouble sinking all the way into your tight pussy, moaning as he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

"Your pussy has been made for me, just for me," he whispered in your ear.

"I only exist for you," you replied, biting his earlobe.

He pushed himself deeper into you, the sound of skin meeting skin with each thrust echoing through the room, mingling with your panting breaths and Hans' deep voice whispering words of love to you in both German and English.

"[Y/N], my lovely [Y/N], if you knew what you're doing to me, you and your tight little pussy... HAAA... [Y/N]," he groaned, making you hornier still.

As you reached your climax, Hans pulled out suddenly, making you hiss at the feeling of his cock being lost in your cunt. With a deft gesture, he turned you around and, your stomach pressed against the bed, he pushed in as hard as he had pulled out of your little cunt, tugging gently on your hair while his other hand was on your throat. He thrust faster, again and again until he felt the two of you approaching your climax. He then turned you to the side with one leg between yours and the other above yours, one hand still on your throat, the other cupping your breasts as he continued to thrust into you at a frantic pace.

"Hans, please, don't stop... I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"Come meine leibe... Come, come for me," he whispered in your ear.

It didn't take him more than two thrusts for your orgasm to shake your entire body with pleasure. Feeling your tight walls contract against his cock, Hans was quick to come in turn with an animalistic growl.

He pulled out carefully and you immediately snuggled up against him, finding solace between his arms, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. You quickly fell asleep, exhausted by the passion shared with Hans who stayed awake almost all night watching you while caressing your nipples with his fingertips, taking pleasure in seeing them harden under his caresses.

The next day, you woke up alone with a note on Hans' pillow.

Ich leibe dich. Hans.

Three weeks later

You were in front of the TV watching the Nakatomi Tower attack, tears flooding your eyes when you recognized Hans. In the end, he was not a mafia boss but a gang leader, a gangster, a thief, a criminal. And despite this revelation, your love for him didn't weaken.

You couldn't help but scream when the roof of the tower exploded, leaving the building on fire, and when the journalists announced that all the hostages had gone and the terrorists were out of control by a hothead working for the police. Later, the man named John McClane told reporters that Hans had fallen to his death from the top of Nakatomi Tower.

You fell to the ground screaming before curling up into a ball, sobbing and screaming Hans' name until you fell asleep. The next day, a man came to your house. He introduced himself as Simon and claimed to be Hans' brother. You knew your lover had a brother but he had never told you anything more about him. However, something about this man inspired confidence in you. The same confidence you had had in Hans. He returned the next day with a man with a gaunt and severe face, a lawyer who had papers for you to sign. Hans, afraid of not getting out of this, had prepared everything to ensure your future without him. Considerate, he had left you a fortune that could have benefited you for your next three lives. Except you didn't want a single one of these lives if Hans wasn't by your side.

A year later

Wrapped in a thick coat, a woolen scarf eating your face, you stood in front of a headstone, in the middle of a small, poorly maintained cemetery, in the town with the unpronounceable name of Schkeuditz.

It had taken you a while to make up your mind and come say a last goodbye to him, but the closer the anniversary of his death had got, the more you needed to be close to him, even if he had left you a gift that would allow you to keep him by your side forever and ever.

There was only a first and a last name on the grave. Hans Gruber. No words in his memory, no flowers. Just an unfortunate headstone in the middle of a thousand others. A name among many others, a name that no one would remember in a few years. No one except you, until your own death relieved you of the pain of losing your great love. You would never be able to get over Hans' death, you would never be able to love as you had loved him and you knew that no man would ever be able to offer you what Hans had offered you. You didn't think about the money and the luxurious life you continued to lead thanks to his thoughtfulness, but about his charismatic presence, the strength he gave you with just a look and the unyielding love you shared. The intimate moments that had made you closer than ever and how, even when you had tragically learned who he really was, you had loved him even more.

"[Y/N]," a baritone voice said.

You turned to acknowledge Simon's presence.

"You shouldn't come here."

"It's been a year today. A year since he... Nakatomi Tower... A year," you said, crying.

"I know. But coming here to mope won't bring him back."

"I know," you said through a sob.

"You're not supposed to be associated with him. Ever. Not now that a part of him is alive."

"No one knows he's his," you pointed out right away.

"And no one must ever know. Go home, [Y/N], grieve as much as you need, then start a new life, forget what you went through with Hans, pretend he never existed, and never come back here," Simon said coldly.

You knew Simon was saying that to protect you and the precious passenger waiting for you in the back seat of the car you'd rented to drive here.

"Go get to him before he wakes up and sees you're not here. I don't want my nephew crying. It's Christmas, and on Christmas, he should be the happiest little boy in the world."

You nodded and walked away, but not before kissing the tips of your fingers that you then placed on Hans' grave.

You got into the car and turned to the back seat, smiling fondly, though your smile didn't reach your eyes.

"I promise to be strong for both of us," you whispered so as not to wake the child who was fast asleep in his car seat.

Your heart was broken by the death of the man you had loved more than life itself, but as a testament to your love, he had left you with a good reason to live and fight. An eternal love that would live forever in the heart of your son. His son. Your son.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Harwin Strong x reader = well-fucked. (pleaseee?)

Lemon Cake (Harwin Strong x Reader)

Summary: Harwin’s wife is a tough crowd.

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Fake orgasm, then a real one. Communication with your partner is sexy. Talks of sweets because I am starving.

A/N: This has been sitting in my inbox for a long time, and I was thinking of writing a sex marathon for it, but then I had this thought… What about a reader that struggles to orgasm? That’s common for women. I thought that Harwin would be the one who cares the most out of all the HOTD men.

You do not come to the marriage bed an innocent. You are a noble girl from The Reach, and so, no expense was spared for your education. Your Lady Mother had made sure you came prepared.

So that’s why, in the middle of the act, as your new Lord Husband pushes and grunts, rocking his hips against yours, you suddenly clench down. You clench and unclench, and give a few undignified noises, and then go limp in his arms.

Pulling back from you, Ser Harwin, or just Harwin, as he has asked you to call him, looks perplexed.

You grin. You must have done well if he looks so amazed. Remembering your Lady Mother's advice, you smile at him.

“Thank you. That felt nice.”

“I am afraid…” Harwin frowns. “Did you… Um. Was that supposed to be…?”

Perhaps he needs help. Perhaps no other woman had done that for him, although you knew it was likely Harwin had his first time with a whore, and they were much better at pretending than you were.

“I finished. I had a great time, husband. You should be proud of yourself.” You smile at him, trying to get it to not sound rehearsed.

You had not, in fact, had a great time. It had been mostly an uncomfortable time. You weren’t totally lying, either. Some of his earlier caresses had been pleasant. But no matter how much he had prepared you for it, the breach of your maidenhead had hurt. Your body felt like it was not meant to stretch that way.

Then, you were too in your head to properly enjoy it, wondering if you were pleasing him. No matter if he was trying his best to please you, you were thinking about how your body looked, how you sounded. You just wanted him to be happy.

Harwin had been a wonderful betrothed. Calm, gentle and reassuring. He had taken time listening to you and getting to know you. Despite being very different from you, he had partaken in your hobbies and interests, to get closer to you. You felt he deserved a reward for it, something you could give to him in exchange for his kindness.

Hence, the false peak. Your Lady Mother had told you that men liked that sort of thing. They felt proud, when they could boast about how good they made their ladies feel. And men were less likely to stray when they found their wives fun to bed. You intended to be a joy.

“My lady.” Harwin pulled out of your body. You frowned, confused. “You certainly did not.”

“Yes, I did.” Your voice is gentle. Perhaps he needs extra reassurance. You have no problem feeding his ego, considering he has been really nice to you since you were engaged. “It was wonderful.”

“You did not. I will not ask you why you felt the need to fake it, but I will ask that you do not lie to me.” His tone is stern. You wrap yourself with the sheets, like a scolded child. Harwin stays silent for a moment, before placing a hand on your back. “Did you really enjoy yourself, or are you telling me what you think I want to hear?”

“I was…”

“Be honest, wife. Remember your vows.” He interrupts, before you can think of a better lie. Harwin has a harsh tone that makes you understand exactly why he was made Commander of the Citywatch. You decide to drop the pretense, then.

The two of you don’t know each other well enough for you to know if it is safe to keep lying. Is Harwin good at catching lies? Is he observant? You don’t know. And in those cases, instead of digging a deeper hole, honesty tends to be the best policy.

“I wanted you to be happy, and proud.” Your tone is soft, still facing away from him. He lays down behind you, spooning you, and presses a kiss to your nape.

It’s a strange feeling. This was not how your wedding night was supposed to go. You had expected physical closeness and intimacy, but not this kind.

“I am certainly not.” But despite the harsh words, Harwin rubs his nose against your nape, sweetly. “Did you enjoy any of it?”

His tone is genuine. Curious, and not scolding. Perhaps, even the slightest bit guilty.

You are not sure of how to put it. It’s also not something you feel comfortable discussing. You are thankful for the fact that your back is to him, and he can’t see your expression. It takes you a while to have the courage to speak.

“I did, at first. But when you… When you entered me, it hurt. It was pleasant, I guess, after a while, but not really… Groundbreaking.”

It’s so awkward to say. You know this is not proper conversation, not even for a wife and a husband. The act is not meant to cause you any pleasure. It’s meant for Harwin to enjoy and to give you children. No more.

“Oh?” But Harwin doesn’t sound angry or scandalized. His tone is one of intrigue. You can feel his lips curling into a smile against the skin of your nape. “Do tell.”

You wonder how you could possibly explain. It finally occurs to you. You can compare it to something he will understand.

“It was like having a cake. Not a lemon cake, just a plain cake. Good, just not…”

Harwin chuckles, making you laugh too. The feel of the little huffs of air he lets up against your neck is quite ticklish.

“I get it. But I don't need you to fake your pleasure. I rather know I am not doing it right.”

“Is there a way for it to be enjoyable?” You look at him, over your shoulder. Curious, this time. If it was some other man, one less kind, you wouldn’t ask. “A right way?”

“Let me teach you.” Harwin whispers in your ear. His hands start mapping over your body. He caresses your neck, then your chest. His hands cup your breasts, softly massaging them.

It feels like before. Good. Warm. Arousal slowly starts to make all your hairs stand on end, breasts getting heavier, center going slick. Almost unaware of it, you moan. You can tell the situation is affecting Harwin too. His hardness, which had softened while you were cuddling, is back with a vengeance. It presses insistently against your behind.

Harwin trails a hand over your stomach, palm wide and warm. He lifts one of your legs, so it rests on his thigh, leaving you open to him. You sigh, sweetly.

“Like that?” He asks you, before lowering his hand towards something that makes you feel like you are on fire. His thumb taps lightly at it, and you moan. “That’s your pearl. If you rub it, it feels good.”

“Yes. Just like that.” Your head lolls over his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It suddenly isn’t enough. “The… Could you…?”

“Tell me.” Harwin kisses your jaw. “I want honest opinions.”

“Take your shirt off.” As Harwin shifts to comply with your orders, you notice he is hard again, poking at your lower back. “And… Um. Could we try again?”

“Try what?” He rubs softly at your pearl, making you mewl near his ear. Harwin chuckles, darkly.

You stare at him over your shoulder. You feel so embarrassed, you wish the earth would open and swallow you whole. Harwin grins, and does absolutely nothing. Even the fingers he has on your pearl stop.

“I want you inside me.” You finally say, when just being held starts being too little for you.

“Are you sure?” He presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers lowering towards your entrance. As soon as his hands are moving again, your hips buck against them, impatiently.

“You said there was a way for it to be pleasant. I want that. Show me.” Your voice comes out a little breathless.

“You are a wonder.” Harwin kisses you, softly. “My brave, gorgeous girl. I am so sorry for what happened before.”

“It’s alright.” But just as you are speaking, you feel him lining the two of you up. You do your best effort not to tense up or expect pain. Your words melt into a soft sigh as Harwin enters you.

Just as he did before, he stays still. The stretch is not nearly as uncomfortable as it used to be, but it’s still quite considerable. You doubt you will ever get used to his size. It feels as if he is pinning you into place. A bit overwhelmed, you search for his hand for reassurance.

“I was a bit overeager, before.” Harwin kisses your temple. “I wanted you so much, I wasn’t paying the attention you deserve.”

His hand caresses your ribs, softly. It tickles, and you can’t help but laugh. It prompts a chain reaction. Your laughter makes you clench up, which makes him groan and makes you laugh even more.

“That’s flattering.”

Your laughter buys you a much-needed respite. No longer does it feel like you are being pulled apart. Still, Harwin’s sad puppy look gets to you.

“I was too in my head. Just not in the moment.” You explain, not wanting him to feel bad about it. Because it’s the truth. You were the one who decided to fake a peak when there was no need for it. You have heard many ladies cried and yelled during their wedding nights, and their husbands didn’t even bat an eyelash. Harwin was not that kind of man. Had you been truly suffering, from what you had learned about him, he would have stopped.

If you had just allowed your face to show its true emotions, you were sure Harwin would have done something. But you had been too embarrassed and too caught up on making it good for him.

“I can keep you grounded, if you wish.” Harwin teases, kissing your cheek. His hips roll gently against yours, as if searching for something. Something he manages to find because you nearly jump from his arms when he touches something inside you that makes you see stars. “There?”

“There.”

He hugs you from behind, keeping the angle of his hips. This time, is more gentle, but much more precise. It feels good. Once again, it feels pleasant. Good. But nothing is happening. You start to get anxious. Why can’t you just get there? Will Harwin get bored with trying to indulge you? You would rather not be a burden to him, or get in between him and his pleasure. Perhaps it’s just not for you.

Harwin pulls you in for a kiss, without stopping the rocking of his hips.

“Are you still with me?”

You look at him, a little sad. You promised to be truthful, but you would rather not hurt his feelings. He is trying hard to please you, you can feel it. But it’s just not working.

“No. I am so sorry, husband. I am really trying, just…”

“That’s alright. Do you want me to stop?” Harwin kisses your cheek, not sounding too hurt. You risk a peek at his expression. His face is calm, encouraging, even.

“No.” You mutter. It comes out a little too sad because he boops your nose, making you smile on reflex.

“Here. Let me…” Harwin shifts you, from your side to sitting on top of him. The suddenness of the movement makes you yelp. “Use me.”

“What?” You cannot believe your ears. Hesitantly, you place a hand on his chest, bracing yourself. He smiles up at you, encouragingly.

“For your pleasure. Do what feels right. And if your thighs get tired, or your hips feel tight, tell me. I’ll help you.”

“I feel silly.” You complain, grabbing at his member. It feels warm and slick in your hand. Harwin makes a small noise at the contact, and you smile, sinking down on him.

It feels different immediately. It’s both deeper and increasingly intimate. But you feel self-conscious, staring him right in the eyes. There is no way you will be able to fake your pleasure now, not with his eyes on yours.

Shyly, you turn your head away from him.

“Don’t. You look gorgeous. The prettiest woman I have ever seen. “ His hand is gentle against your cheek, encouraging you to look him in the eye.

Harwin smiles softly. You smile back. And then, you arch your hips, searching for the right angle. He watches you, eager to learn how to please you. And you watch right back.

His face, going slack in pleasure. The way he grunts when you slowly get up and down, rocking your hips just so to get friction on your pearl. The way sweat starts to gather at his temples, making his hair stick down. It fills you with a secret thrill, pleasing him.

You want, no, need more. You rub at your pearl, yet it feels too rough to be enjoyable. Almost too dry. You whine. Harwin catches the hint immediately. He takes your wrist and presses a kiss to your palm, softly, before taking two of your fingers into his mouth. You startle a little, both by the contrast between the lewd action and the tenderness he treats you with, and how much into it he seems to be.

Harwin releases your fingers with a wet pop, giving you a naughty grin. You don’t need any further prompting. You feel almost uncomfortably wet now, after his display, but you still use the fingers he sucked to rub at your pearl.

It’s as if you are burning up. You are hot with need, thighs clenching and stomach tensing in preparation for something. Arousal thrums on your nerves, echoes in your bones. You are so close, a wave just about to crash against the shore.

Your eyes fall closed. It’s an impossible thing, you know. But you swear you can feel your pulse, beating under your fingertips, in that tight little bundle of nerves. You are starting to get tired, and you cling to Harwin’s shoulders desperately.

“That's it. Just like that, love. You are doing so good for me. Just a bit more.” His hand rubs your flank, softly. He is trying to encourage you, but you want to scream out in frustration. You are so close.

You grunt, thighs burning with exertion. It makes your rhythm falter. You sob.

“You can do it. Give it to me.” But you clearly can’t. Not on your own. So Harwin plants his hips and thrusts, aiding you along.

You moan loudly.

“Like that. More.”

He is quick to obey, helping you bounce up and down. As you finally, finally reach the peak both of you have worked so hard for, you lean in and kiss him.

“I love you.” And it's glorious. The best feeling in the world, warm in your stomach, body taut from head to toe. The wave finally crashing against the shore, a faint buzzing in your ears.

“I love you too.” Harwin says, squeezing your hands. He waits until you open your eyes and catch your breath, before rolling you over. “My turn.”

You laugh. He thrusts several more times, before falling on top of you. His face is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, and you tell him so, enjoying his blush.

You stay like that for a while, before you get too impatient. You wriggle a little, feeling sticky all over, but Harwin just pulls you closer.

“So. Lemon cake or just cake?”

“Lemon cake. Definitely.”

[theunaestheticstudyblr]

Some fresh advice for y'all in college to start off the new semester!

Sleep. Sleep will let you function better, be in a better mood, get sick less often, etc

Eat. Fuel your body and mind. Eating helps with your brain fog and focus. Calories are just the energy you are putting into your body and the more you do, the more energy you need.

Find a why for every class. Why are you taking this class? And no just to graduate isn't always a good enough why to keep you motivated. Will you use that physics class? Maybe not, but it can help explain how the world works around you, makes your brain work out, all that stuff.

Take time for you. You are the most important aspect of your life. Great yourself as a priority.

Listen to your body. Please

Take a little time every day to study. Even an hour is a good amount of time. 1% better every day is still better than before.

Don't buy textbooks until after the first week or two of class. You won't need the textbooks for most classes, they just have to say they have a required text book.

Be social. Join a club. Go to events. Be a college student!

Make a schedule. Having a schedule with flexibility built in will make things less stressful in the long run.

Move your body every day if you can. Stretch. Go for a walk. Do yoga. Whatever you like. Taking time to just be present with your body and no distractions or pressures, you can reduce stress and recollect yourself. It's essentially moving meditation when done in depth and without any distractions.

Try out several study methods. Different topics may require different study tools. Flashcards probably won't work for every topic.

Make a budget. Try to save when you can, even if it's $1 every 2 weeks.

You will probably be in a new area. Take time to explore. Find some dive bars. Hiking trails. A cute cafe.

Brush and floss. Teeth are so expensive to fix later on. Take care of them now please. Don't wait for that $10,000 dentist bill for a tooth replacement.

Start hobbies. Let them fall off if they no longer interest you. A lot of times, you have temporary needs that a hobby will fulfill during that time. Your hobbies aren't your identity. And you are fluid. It's ok to change.

Explore your style, interests, food tastes, social structures, etc. This is a time of limbo basically. Have fun and figure yourself out.

Talk to your teachers. You'll probably need reference letters later on. Go to office hours. Ask questions in class. Make sure your teachers know who you are.

[swoomoo]

OC Deep Dive: Amare Lillian Belmont

Formerly Amity Mary Pond

Tagged by (and dividers by) @diableriedoll as well as @hlozt @mortifying-macaroni @storyowls (You guys are the sweetest)

Art by the wonderful kmpshitposter

What common/uncommon fear do they have? People they love leaving them. Amare has seen the few people she loves die time after time after time after time. Sometimes this was a direct cause of their actions so now they get hyper fixated on protecting or getting too close to those they care about. This tends to show itself by blood bond. If Amare tries to blood bond you, she either doesn't trust you, or loves you. You can decide which.

Do they have any pet peeves? Religious kindred. Vampires are parasites and manipulative creatures. Don't pretend to be moral by your spirituality. Kindred that mistreat their ghouls. If you believe you are above them then act like it and if they didn't do something the way you wanted it done then get off your ass and do it yourself.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? A picture of her daughter Abigail (not a vampire), some of Vesper's shirts, polish to shine her swords.

What do they notice first in a person? If they have a lingering smell of blood and what resonance they like to feed. If their shadows like them or not.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? Physically: 8 Emotionally: 2

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (or freeze and fawn) Depends on what is at stake, who is present and what is going on. If they are alone, they are more likely to flee. If Vesper is around they are more likely to fight. If being scared socially, freeze and fawn. Pride is an expensive luxury and it means nothing when you are dead.

What animal represents them best? Still going with a common potoo. They are night birds whose bright yellow eyes are so off putting, it just startles other animals from wanting to attack them. They sit, and stare...

How would a stranger likely describe them? Awkward, a bit creepy, maybe rude, ignorant, sometimes cute if you are into weird girls.

Do they have any hobbies? Amare loves watching movies. She enjoyed having a movie night with Vesper at least once a month where he showed her a lot of stuff she would have had a difficult time finding. A bit less cute, but she does enjoy stalking people. Watching others is something she has done since she was a kid, she did it professionally as a journalist and she enjoys it in unlife. It gives her a sense of power and sometimes a connection to mortal life.

Pressure Tagging: @porcelainseashore >:) No Pressure Tagging: @crovvbaar @lilnoctua

[becauseimanicequeen]

I've used a lot of purple in my work today, and some yellow, and it got me thinking about Wandee Goodday (tell me I'm obsessed with Wandee Goodday without telling me I'm obsessed with Wandee Goodday, lol)...

Purple and yellow are contrasting colors (also called complementary colors) because they are on opposite sides of the color wheel. Contrasting colors are the definition of "opposites attract" when it comes to color because they are completely different but complement each other very well. When placed next to each other (or, as in my profession, somewhere within the confines of the same canvas), it creates high impact and contrast. They pop.

So, what does that tell me about Yak and Dee in Wandee Goodday? That their contrasts complement each other.

Dee (purple) is more mysterious and (let's be honest) a bit cold. Yak (yellow) is more clear/direct and warm.

Dee enjoys luxury. I mean, neon lights (at least the quality stuff) are expensive and we've seen how much he likes neon lights.

Yak seems to enjoy the simpler things in life like just being around the people he likes and having fun with dressing up in different costumes.

(I could be wrong about this, though, considering he can, somehow, get his hands on all those costumes and props he uses to disguise himself when he goes to Dee's place. Maybe that's a very expensive hobby/kink he has, lol.)

Anyway...

What's interesting about purple and yellow, in particular, is that they also have overlapping traits, and (not so) surprisingly, so do Dee and Yak.

Purple (Dee) is associated with wisdom while yellow (Yak) is associated with intelligence. But even with this overlapping trait, Dee and Yak's wisdom/intelligence is different and complementary.

Dee is a doctor and it has surely taken him a lot of studying to get to where he is now. The kind of intelligence he uses every day (because of his work) is scientific and analytical.

Yak's intelligence is, I would say, more of an intuitive and emotional kind. He took what Taem said about people not always being able to be strong, saw it in Dee, and was able to empathize with it.

Even though they're both wise/intelligent, they are so in their own ways.

(Yes, Dee shows empathy for his patients as well, but I feel like he lacks some of the other aspects of EI at the moment, like self-regulation, for example.)

Another interesting aspect of purple and yellow is that purple is the color on the color wheel that's closest in value to black while yellow is the color closest in value to white.

In other words, purple is the color on the color wheel that reflects the least amount of light while yellow is the color that reflects the most.

Even though black and white and purple and yellow have different qualities and symbolism, the contrast between dark and light is there in both pairs.

Black is often associated with the night while purple is associated with mystery (one of the reasons being that pure purple is so dark it was likened to the evening/night in the past). White is often associated with light while yellow is (in the West) associated with the sun. In Thailand, yellow is associated with Mondays, and Mondays are associated with the moon (the light in the night sky).

With this in mind, it could be that Yak (yellow) is coming into Dee's (purple) life to shine some light.

There was that hint (in the 3rd episode) of a car accident that (most likely) took Dee's parents' lives. Considering what we saw in that flash of his memory, he saw them dead. Whether he was in the car with them or not doesn't matter, the trauma was evidently deep either way.

While I don't believe in other people being able (or having the responsibility) to heal your trauma (you have to work on that yourself), Yak might still be able to give Dee some light through another perspective on life. Perhaps to work less (so he'll have the time to change the lightbulbs, lol) and make more time for fun and play (like their FWB relationship).

With the whole contrast in values between purple and yellow, combined with the reasons they're in this FWB/fake boyfriend relationship, I also feel like Dee might end up hurting Yak.

Yak seems to be the one who is mostly into this FWB/fake boyfriend relationship and it feels like that because he wants to be there (he clearly likes Dee). Dee, on the other hand, is mostly in it for his own personal gain (at first to prove that he isn't vanilla and then to show Ter and the gossipy idiots at the hospital that he’s not into Ter).

And let's not forget that he likes to win...

And will probably do whatever it takes to win over Ter (since he admitted that winning at all costs is a bad habit he has).

The question is how much Dee will hurt Yak on the way to winning (because I'm pretty sure Dee will win the scholarship) and how far he will go before he realizes what he's doing/what he's done and what Yak actually means to him.

Eventually, though, Dee will realize his feelings because I'm sure he will see the light that Yak has brought into his life (literally and figuratively).

Anyway, that was my rant about color. I'll shut up now...

[perfinn]

let neptune strike ye dead

merman!din djarin x lighthouse keeper!reader

wc: 2.8k

summary: you've spent the last year in near total isolation on an island, tending to a lighthouse and slowly losing your mind. something begins leaving you gifts.

cw: nsfw, no pronouns used but reader is afab and will later be established as a woman, masturbation (not particularly explicit), paranoia, isolation, general decent into insanity, lighthouse keeping inaccuracies (i did zero research)

read on ao3, banner by cafekitsune

The stairs inside the lighthouse have no rails. They're cut from stone, winding up into the heavens as a tower of brick, beaten by decades of crashing waves and brutal storms. Unmoving, unforgiving. And you, godforsaken you, are forced to climb those winding stairs each day and night. Tending to a light that never goes out, once clinging to the stone bricks now confident in your wretched climb. You will not fall, you know, and if you do then there is little more can be done for you. You need only hope that if you do, you'll fall from the lowest steps.

Would they relieve you of your duties if you broke a bone? You doubt it. They couldn't hope to get another keeper in time, this job is as wretched and undesirable as the tower is ancient. You had been tricked into it, you came to realise after a torturous fortnight of lighting that lamp, of clinging to those cold walls along the stairway. Still, your contract was immovable. Two years tending to the lighthouse. Two years of near complete isolation. Two years to lose your mind on a tiny island with only a ship's captain to talk to twice a month.

It's not all bad, the isolation. There's nothing to waste your hard earned wages on, like sweet treats from a bakery. The food you need is delivered by that captain, a sweetener to the deal you'd signed a horrifically long twelve months ago. The wages are generous, too. Without the trappings of rent and bills and little expenses that seem more and more ridiculous the longer you rely on yourself on this island, you're saving thousands of dollars.

Your sanity seems a low price to pay for what will be plenty of financial comfort when you finally return to civilisation.

(Though the longer you spend away from it, the harder it becomes to believe you'll ever be fit for society again. You begin to wonder if you may die on this island.)

There is another hidden benefit to the isolation, you’ve found, that comes in the form of being able to make as much noise as you like. You can scream at the very top of your lungs if you like, and no one will be around to complain.

When your myriad of work is finished for the day, you retire to your measly lodgings. You can't do much to personalise it. You didn't bring any decorations with you, and you can't exactly pop out to get yourself some nice succulents to warm the place up. Succulents would probably die out here anyway. So, with little other choice in the matter, the room is impersonal. Your activities in the room are not.

There isn't a lot to do in order to fill your idle time. You tried cooking– it didn't stick. You tried knitting– the captain didn't bring enough yarn to tide you over until his next visit. The only hobby – which is no true hobby at all, really – that you’ve kept up, is masturbation.

On the mainland, you had toys. Vibrators, dildos, whatever else you desired. You didn't bring them with you, assuming you wouldn't need them.

(Which, for a time, was the case. In the beginning you’d end the day so exhausted that you fell right into your cot and passed out. As your body adjusted to the workload, this became less and less common. You were growing stronger and more durable, and so was your stamina.)

You only have enough service for perhaps one phone call a week, which you usually reserve for your family just so they’re certain you haven't drowned, so internet is out of the question. And you’re not brave enough to ask the ship’s captain about the magazines you’ve seen poking out of a drawer in the bridge of his ship. So, no porn.

You’ve, in turn, gotten incredibly creative with your fingers and your imagination. Were you perhaps deeper in the depths of your impending insanity, you might even go so far as to act out your wildest fantasies like a one woman show. You’re not quite there yet, so the fantasies remain inside your head. That doesn't stop you from making a frankly egregious amount of noise. You scream, moan, whine and yell as much as you please, more than you ever did in the apartment you lived in on the mainland.

The walls were too thin there. They’re too thin here, really, but that doesn't matter, because no one’s around. You make as much noise as is physically possible because you assume no one in the world can hear you.

(You assume wrong.)

You obviously don't notice anything strange during the act, due to all the wanton screaming, that combined with the incessant crash of waves against the rocks doesn't make for a wonderful listening environment. You have every reason to assume that there's no one out there to hear you except perhaps an unfortunate seal or two. The oddities which begin, happen outside of that time.

Seaglass.

There's an abundance of it on the beaches below your island, washing up from decades of glass litter, formed into something lovely. Generally, you leave it to the sea, figuring that if the waves can beat it into a shape they like, they’ve earned the right to keep it. But one day, after a rough storm, a few pieces of it sit on the end of the dock.

It's odd, but not enough to arouse much suspicion. You assume it’s the result of some well arranged wind and waves, and gently knock the pieces of colourful glass back into the ocean.

But then, it happens again.

It's after another storm, (of which there are many, hence the need for a lighthouse) when you’re stood at the paved stone edge of a small cliff and your boot almost crunches on three pieces of seaglass.

You yelp, stepping back to avoid shattering them and crouching down. You pick them up, brows drawing together as you arrange the treasures in the palm of your hand. Two of the pieces are a seafoam green, but the other is a pretty orange. You pluck it between your fingers, holding it up to the rising sun. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

You try not to make a habit of keeping seaglass. Don't take too much of the earth’s abundance and what-not. But you do have a few exceptional pieces arranged on your windowsill, and you’ve never seen one this colour before.

“Alright,” you concede in a murmur. You place the orange piece tenderly into the pocket of your overalls. “I’ll keep this one. But you can have these back.”

As you gently plop the other two pieces back into the waves, you try not to think too hard about the fact that you’re speaking to the ocean like it's listening. You briefly consider telling yourself that you’re just talking to yourself, and not the ocean. But that's probably worse.

“God,” you murmur, running a hand down your face. You make a mental note to call your mother.

The odd occurrences stop for a time. That, or your sanity has slipped too much to recognise things as odd. Reality is askew when you’re this alone. Things that are strange don't seem so out here.

Though, you know you can at least attribute your attraction to the supply ship’s captain to the simple lack of contact with anyone else. He’s not ugly, not by any means, but certainly not your type. But Christ, what you wouldn't give to rip his clothes from his body and have him until you finally felt satisfied again.

Your loud masturbation can only satisfy your libido so long. You give it another three months before you’re crossing a lot of professional lines with Captain Fett.

You’ve become friends, at least. He’s your only real connection to the outside world, other than your shoddy transistor radio and your phone calls with your mother that last thirty minutes on average. (Which she only uses to fill you in on family gossip because you generally have nothing of import to tell her.) When he comes by, you force him to sit and enjoy tea with you and tell you about life on the mainland. He’s funny, if a bit gruff. But he makes you laugh, makes you sane.

And then he leaves again, and you watch his ship disappear over the horizon, feel that horrible isolation sink back onto your shoulders and suffocate you. You picture Captain Fett when you scream-masturbate that evening.

The next morning, there's a pile of fish on the edge of the dock.

You stare at it for a long time, brain ticking over as you try desperately to make sense of it. It's a decent variety of fish, all quite massive sizes. Nothing that you generally catch off the docks on the days you try to fish. This is from much further out, in the open ocean where the fishing boats make their rounds. You crouch down, sniffing at the pile. It doesn't smell, they seem as fresh as anything.

Perhaps you have lost it entirely, because you pick up what you know to be a cod and look it over, sniffing it. It smells fishy, obviously, but not rotten. It’ll make a far better dinner than the soup you had planned. You eye the other fish, wondering if you ought to waste them, or let the waves take them back to their fishy graves.

You take the cod inside, and return to the dock with a bucket full of ice in order to collect the other fish. Even if you can't eat them all before they go bad, you’re damn well gonna try. This isn't like the seaglass, you tell yourself. These fish are already dead, it would be wasteful to just ignore them and let them rot away at the end of your dock. As you settle the last fish in the ice bucket, you hear a splash in the calm water.

A tiny thing, barely even a plip. But it makes your head snap up, makes your eyes dart around at the water around you. You curse the fact that the ocean is never completely still, so any disturbance is lost in its perpetual motion. You can't find the source of the splash, but you know it wasn't something innocuous.

(Were anyone to ask you how you knew this, you couldn't tell them. You think it may be some sort of paranoia you’ve acquired in your isolated insanity.)

You feel watched. Perhaps not by something sinister. But watched all the same, like an intent pair of eyes are trained right on you as you accept this gift of ocean’s abundance. You stand up, hoisting the bucket up into your hip as you squint out at the waves. The sun reflects off the water and hits your eyes, and you’d be upset with it if you weren't trying to cherish the rare day of warm sun. You huff, taking one last glance at the slowly lapping waves before turning and heaving back up to the lighthouse to get to work.

You know there’s another storm coming that night. Weather so forgiving is never not followed by something brutal. You’ve grown very accustomed to the mercurial weather of this godforsaken island.

(That, and you heard it on the weather report on the radio.)

Still, generally the best you can do in this weather is make sure the lamp is lit and you’re safe and warm inside. You have two of your fingers buried knuckle deep in your pussy when thunder first cracks. You barely pause, glancing toward the window as rain begins to beat down on the panes, before closing your eyes and focusing on hitting that sweet spot again.

When you’ve moved to rutting against your pillow and letting wanton moans tumble from your lips, an alarm goes off high up in the tower. Your eyes snap open and you look up– the light’s gone out.

The very most central thing that you’re expected to do in this godforsaken lighthouse is maintain the light. Now, in this kind of weather, more than ever. You barely give yourself a moment to pull on a discarded pair of overalls before you’re scrambling up the stone steps to the light. You swear to yourself as you fix the light, glancing out the windows to the dark and stormy oceans.

You pray there’s no ships out there, pray you won't suddenly hear a deafening crash as some poor fishing barge slams into the cliff face. There shouldn't be any ships out in this weather, but that's really the whole point of the lighthouse, isn't it? Just in case.

But you manage to secure the new bulb, relief flooding you as the room is illuminated and the beacon shines out over the horizon. You turn to look out the windows, thankful when you note there’s not a ship in sight. In the five or so minutes where the ancient lighthouse wasn't faithfully emitting its beacon, no one even came near. As you’re about to step away, though, the light illuminates something that catches your eye.

You’re not able to make out much from this distance, or from the brief second of illumination, but you’d swear on anything that you saw someone out there. A head and shoulders, with brown hair, just poking out of the waves.

You’re scrambling on the steps again before you even realise you’re moving. Slipping and stumbling down those wretched stairs, uncaring of your safety since instead your brain is thrumming with fear and adrenaline and a screaming need to help whatever poor soul has somehow ended up in the stormy waters. You grab a flashlight and a floatation device from by the door before you’re stepping into the unforgiving elements.

You don't even know what you’ll do when you get out there. As you rush out into the bruising wind and rain hammering down on your skin, you can't think of any sort of plan. You’re sure as hell not going to dive in to get them, that would only end up with both of you dead. You make it down to the dock, slipping several times in the mud but managing to stay upright. You’re barefoot, you don't have anything to cover you but your worn pair of overalls, so essentially your entire torso and arms are bare to the elements. One wrong move and your tits will probably spill free too.

But you don't think about that. You think this poor drowning idiot won't care that you’re sort-of-kind-of-half-naked, they probably have more important things on their mind. You make it to the end of the dock, shining your flashlight out at the waves.

“Hello?!”

You’re not sure you can be heard over the wind and the rain and the thunder clapping overhead. You can't see anyone either. Whoever it was has probably been pulled under, or out further into the waves where you can't help them. Still, you search frantically amongst the blackened water, eyes wide and breathing quick.

You catch something in the beam of your flashlight. Something, again, so quick you think you may have imagined it. A tail, flicking up before disappearing beneath the waves.

Unlike any tail you’ve seen before, large and wide, a dark colour almost as black as the water. You freeze, flashlight lingering on that spot, silently begging the universe to let you see it again, just so you can know it's a seal or something.

But a seal’s tail doesn't look like that. Nothing’s tail looks like that. You squint in the rain, desperate to prove your insanity wrong. But it doesn't appear again. You’re left only with the memory of a tailfin and the distant view of a person’s head and shoulders, and the sinking feeling of knowing your insanity has reached a point you can't be certain you’ll return from.

When you’re about to give up on the poor soul that you probably-definitely hallucinated, you glance downwards. You think of the seaglass and the fish, and wonder if those were hallucinations too when your flashlight reflects off something new. Another gift from the ocean. You reach down and pick it up, heart thrumming in your chest.

It's a cowrie shell, but that's not what sends your mind spinning into confusion. There’s a carving on its surface. You run your thumb over it, clearing it of raindrops for a brief moment before it’s covered by them once more in the unrelenting downpour. It's a symbol you recognise, Captain Fett has one hanging from the gearshift of his ship. You’d asked him about it once, and he’d recounted an old mariners tale about it.

A mythosaur.

You look back up at the waves, searching their murky depths for explanation. There's none. So, shaken, you pocket the cowrie shell and turn away to go back inside, not noticing the pair of brown eyes that watch you from just below the dock.

part ii

[thefrogman]

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

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

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

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

What you really want for your landscapes is a Hassie.

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

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

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

*compared to their previous $8000 lenses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, let's get started...

Landscape Buying Guide

Opening Thoughts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Should you buy a mirrorless camera or a DSLR?

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

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

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

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

DSLR Camera Systems

Full Frame DSLR Camera Bodies

Canon

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

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

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

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

Nikon

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

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

APS-C DSLR Camera Bodies

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

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

Canon APS-C

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

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

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

Nikon APS-C

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

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

Full Frame DSLR Lenses

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

Canon DSLR Lenses

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nikon DSLR Lenses

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

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

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

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

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

Enter the world of...

Mirrorless Camera Systems

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

Full Frame Mirrorless

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

APS-C Mirrorless

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

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

Mirrorless Landscape Lenses

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mirrorless Prime Lenses

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

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

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

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

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

More Resources

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

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

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

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

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

[rederiswrites]

One really adorable detail from our blacksmithing event this weekend:

The demonstrator, Drew, was a confident, precise, perfectionist. He talked a lot about running a business as an artist, in addition to actual blacksmithing. Over dinner, he told us the most hilarious, amazing story about a customer he's currently working on a commission for. She's got a big event site type farm somewhere in Money Land, Virginia, where three of the richest counties in the country are. The kind of place you pay to have your wedding in bucolic 'natural' settings.

He showed us the design, which is a lovely gate.

"Driveway gate?" I asked. Most of the time the only sign of these people among us is a very long driveway with a gate or some sculptural pylons.

He doesn't have a very expressive face, and it'd taken me a couple hours to get the hang of his humor. His face didn't change as he said, "No. For people to stand in front of for pictures." This, of course, set the tone for a conversation about rich people.

At first, he told us, the customer insisted that money was no object, she just needed it to look grand. He did not like this at all, but pushed her with no success. So he designed a "money is no object" gate, put a price on it, and showed her the design.

"Oh, that's far too much money."

"You said not to worry about money. I said it would be expensive."

"But I really can't pay that much."

Our friend Drew, however, had come prepared with balls of steel and some research.

"That's your car, right?"

"Yes?"

"Do you buy a new one every year?"

"I do."

"Do you know the MSRP on that car?"

"Not off the top of my head."

"It's worth $98,000. More than this gate. So, what you have to ask yourself is, is this piece of art that will last a thousand years, made by hand, worth more or less to you than a car you're going to use for a year."

The dinner table erupted in hoots and expressions of shock, kids and adults alike.

It only sort of worked, when everything's said and done. He did still have to draw up a cheaper design. But the absolute nerve of the man!

Shortly after that, he bashfully showed us pictures of his new hobby, embroidery. He'd put flowers on the cuff of a pair of jeans. He'd wanted to wear them this weekend, he told us, but chickened out. I praised his work, quite honestly, and told him that I'd better see those jeans next time we met. When we all said goodbye Saturday evening, he grinned and said that maybe for the next event he'd get up the courage. Jacob told him that by then those jeans had better be embroidered all over.