#luck pusher

[walterdoodles]

Hey, how y'all doing? :)

Anyways, let's just say i've been busy and won't be able to upload until the end of December/early January. But red barrels did have an art contest which I participated in! Just a cute piece, wish me luck 😁♥️ It's got some blood/body parts so click read more to see image!!

Happy holidays to those who celebrate and happy days to those who don't, and i hope you guys are doing well sorry for the silence ✨♥️♥️

[ravenkings]

the thing is that vladimir putin is so Obviously Evil (like more blatantly and unashamedly so than almost any other current world leader) and yet SO many people still idolize him and think he's "maybe not that bad" and are still trying to normalize relations with him (which they should have stopped trying to do decades ago tbh) so like........at this point i think if someone is simping for putin for whatever reason, you can automatically assume that they have malicious/evil intentions of some kind

[daisyachain]

A certain added weight to CiCi and June’s friendship when you think about how many times CiCi would’ve pissed someone off as a child

[fairsweetlonging]

system wardrobe malfunctions and small scenario pushers: exteme edition au

after his qi deviation, shen qingqiu starts working on slowly building up relations with his fellow peak lords and disciples; saving liu qingge in the caves, spoiling luo binghe rotten, freely praising his students, inviting the sect leader over for tea, he's a whole new person!

and yet... his friendliness levels aren't going up.

he knows it's a bit icky to judge his relations with other people based on numbers an alien entity is giving him, but he needs them to survive, and he swears that once he's above a certain threshold (somewhere between "civil" and "friendly", he figures), he will mute every and all notifications regarding it.

but they're just not going up. since his deviation he's at least managed to claw his way from "hostile" to "tolerant" with most of them, but some are somehow still stuck in the "aloof" section! they wouldn't even care if he died!

he just doesn't know what he's doing wrong; he understands these things take time, but it feels so bad when people refuse to sit next to him or sigh when they're assigned a mission with him, especially since it's not his fault.

now, it so happens that, one day, the system hears his woes and takes pity on him.

【 user seems to experience difficulty increasing character favor levels 】

you could say that

【 would host like to utilize our special deluxe package to activate 'The Path of Blossoming Hearts and Unspoken Affections' free of charge? ₊˚⊹♡ 】

though shen qingqiu isn't trustful of the system's antics, he can't deny that so far they have helped him well enough, and since it's free of charge with no penalties, wouldn't it be a waste not to use it? the title is a bit dubious, but was the original shen qingqiu not known for his frozen heart? for never sparing a single nice word to anyone? this could be his chance to let it blossom without the system nagging on his characterization.

【 accept optional mission? [yes]/[no] 】

he picks [yes].

two weeks later, he wishes he hadn't.

the package is devided into small scenarios that mostly appear at random, ranging from small dialogue challenges where he has to pick the right option (he really doesn't like those, the dehumanization of it makes his skin crawl), to the equivalent of two rivals getting locked in a room together.

the first few scenarios are minor and not very impactful, to the point where he's finished three of them and his favor count with qi qingqi has increased a whopping +2 (still "aloof") and that of wei qingwei +5 (still "tolerant").

his fourth scenario, however, reminds him of exactly why he should never accept gifts from strange screens floating in the sky.

he's on a nighthunt with liu qingge to slay a mirebeast that's been terrorizing travelers—an amphibious creature with thick, slimy skin, a crocodile tail and a leech-like mouth that shoots mucus when threatened... and shooting mucus it did.

while his clothes can easily be cleaned with a cleaning talisman, he never feels truly clean himself unless he actually bathes. luckily, there's a beautiful, glass-like pond nearby that's surrounded by natural demonic-repellent vegetation, a win! he's just draped his clothes over a nearby branch and submerged himself in the water, when the system rings out.

【 heads up! small scenario "Stolen Silks and Sunlit Waters" is about to begin! penalty: none. wishing user good luck (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) 】

hold up—stolen what.

stolen silks. his silks. stolen by a mossy-jade stag that happens to scratch its huge antles on the exact tree he hung his clothes on, which rattles the branch and causes his robes to fall exactly onto its head, spooking it into a gallop as it disappears into the forest.

how. how does that even happen.

shen qingqiu is just about to get out of the water when of course liu qingge chooses that exact moment to stomp into the glade looking for him, even though he should have been miles away to the village to ensure the people the beast is dead.

for anyone looking in from the outside, it's not a bad picture: shen qingqiu, with his hair pulled up and away from his slender neck, submerged to his (very bare!) pale shoulders in golden sunlit waters, surrounded by lotus flowers and lily pads. to liu qingge, this must be a terrible view, apparently—shen qingqiu can think of no other reason that would cause his face to flush so bright red.

liu qingge tosses his outer robe on the grass between them and turns resolutely around. it's only a bit insulting—is shen qingqiu not pretty enough to try and sneak a look at? even just a glimpse? meanwhile liu qingge is trying really hard to mentally recite the ethics sutra to not fixate on the sound of shen qingqiu getting out of the water (naked!!) or the rustle of fabrics as he wraps liu qingge's robe around his (naked!!!!) body. when liu qingge turns around he flushes an even darker shade as he sees shen qingqiu's bare legs and feet sticking out from under the robes.

"thanking shidi," says shen qingqiu, who notices none of this, as he pulls the robe a little closer around him, "for coming to this one's untimely rescue."

liu qingge grunts, turns, and walks away.

【 congratulations! liu qingge's favor increased. character satisfaction points +50. please continue to work hard! 】

shut up

【 ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა 】

they return to the sect victorious, but very embarrassed. the mirebeast gets all the blame. where his clothes are? well—uh, gone. the mucus dissolved them. yes he knows that's not how mucus works but it did this time okay?!!

yue qingyuan acts a bit strange seeing shen qingqiu wearing liu qingge's outer robes. he almost qi deviates when he finds out his shidi is wearing absolutely nothing under it. it's all very dramatic. apparently the sect is made up of people who shower with their clothes on or something.

【 ⁺‧₊˚bonus scenario!!˚₊‧⁺˖ interactive dialog quest: pick the best suited options to win additional favor points! 】

i don't like where this is going

"shidi?" yue qingyuan asks, looking at him with those big worried puppy eyes.

【 choice A: (demure) this shidi is cold. will you not invite me in at least?

choice B: what are you looking at?! mind your own business stupid old man!

choice C: i'm in love with liu qingge 】

WHAT

if he was drinking tea he would have spat it out, and then coughed himself to death. what the hell kind of options are these!!

【 system has based these options on what will earn (or lose!) user the most points. please pick one. 】

[ admin notes: option A will earn +60 points. option B will neither increase nor decrease points. option C will decrease -100 satisfaction points and increase +200 heartbreak points ]

shen qingqiu silently curses the system. option B is way out of line, even for the original shen qingqiu, who probably would insult yue qingyuan, but not with so little class. he doesn't even consider option C an actual option. and, well, he is cold. and wet. and almost naked. he would like a warm bath and some clothes. A it is then.

he doesn't like the way yue qingyuan's face light up when he grits out the dialog.

【 congratulations! yue qingyuan's favor increased. character satisfaction points +60! keep up the good work! 】

he can't keep doing this much longer.

unfortunately, he does have to keep doing this for much longer.

he's just about to go to bed when someone knocks on the door. luo binghe is already sleeping so he goes himself. just as he's about to open the door the system rings out—but it's too late.

shen yuan is used to wearing old tshirts to bed and no pants (he hates the feeling of his legs being restricted while he sleeps), so he doesn't really care when the only equivalent of this in pidw is a silk nightgown. his mother wore them, his sister wore them. hell, one of his brothers once bought one for fun and ended up using it for months. it's florally embroidered with puffy sleeves and reaches to his knees, that's decent enough, right?

【 heads up! small scenario "Dreamy Encounters at Dusk" is about to begin! good luck! 】

he has no idea what that's supposed to mean and he doesn't care. he opens the door, and it's mu qingfang. not... that unusual, but still.

"can this master help you?"

it takes mu qingfang a moment to remember what he's here for, it seems, because he stares at shen qingqiu for a good few seconds before raising an eyebrow like he's caught him doing something wrong.

"does shen-shixiong always answer the door like this?"

shen qingqiu glares back. "only when unsolicited guests come stumbling around my porch in the middle of the night."

"fair enough."

apparently he's here on behalf of yue qingyuan, who had asked him to do a post mission check up as soon as he was available, which is now. which yue qingyuan had apparently forgotten to relay to shen qingqiu himself. awesome.

he invites mu qingfang in (he can hardly close the door on him, it's late for him too!), and sits through the usual poking and prodding.

the system is prodding, too.

【 would user like some advice on how to maximize point earning? 】

no

【 ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀) system is only trying to help!! 】

i really don't need your help with this, thanks. i can keep a conversation on my own.

【 optional system booster: not mandatory. user may choose to decline this quest.

option 1: this one appreciates your care. the hardship is... unexpected. (look away shyly). i find it difficult to accept help sometimes, even when i need it.

option 2: i'm in love with you.

option 3: stand up and pretend to faint into his arms 】

shen qingqiu is about to spit blood—what the HELL is this!!! why do all your options make you look bipolar HUH??? and what's this about professing my love to people?!! why is that always an option??! this isn't a dating simulator, stupid system, they'll think i'm crazy!

【 all these options result in an increase of character satisfaction points (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) 】

HOW

【 (ó﹏ò｡) user seems misinformed about character preferences. [mu qingfang] likes to take care of people! 】

... i decline the quest. booster. whatever. i'll figure it out myself. and stop talking about him like he's some one dimensional character!

they hear stumbling coming from the little side room, then the creaking of floorboards. binghe peeks through the door, hair sleep-ruffled and his robes pulled on over his sleeping clothes.

"shizun?" he asks, worried, "what's wrong? why is mu-shishu here?"

【 ⁺‧₊˚bonus scenario!!˚₊‧⁺˖ interactive dialog quest: pick the best suited options to win additional favor points! 】

oh god, not again.

【 option A: (gently) nothing is wrong, binghe. this master is alright. go back to sleep.

option B: (gently) nothing is wrong, binghe. this master is alright. (invite him to sit next to you during the examination)

option C: (gently) nothing is wrong, binghe. this master is alright. mu-shidi is just keeping me company tonight. 】

huh. so you can give meaningful options that i would actually consider picking?

【 ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜ 】

[admin notes: option A will decrease -100 points for luo binghe. option B will increase +20 points for luo binghe. option C will decrease -300 points for luo binghe, and increase +20 points for mu qingfang. option A & C increase luo binghe jealousy levels with 400 points].

[atzhrts]

gunwook as your boyfriend ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

just severely obsessed with gunwook rn so here a a few thoughts

reader has boobs

gunwook who loves to cuddle. he could spent hours just laying in bed, your head on his chest as he plays with your hair. if you like to talk a lot he’d be the happiest to listen, throwing in a little „mhm“ and „yeah“ every now and then - showing you he‘s still listening.

if you prefer to listen he’ll tell you every little detail of his day and if the both of you feel like enjoying a bit of quiet time he’s so here for it. just listening to each others breaths, him pressing little kisses to the crown of your head while you do the same to his shoulder.

gunwook who always lets you play with his fingers, wether it’s an anxiety thing or you simply want to feel his touch in a subtle way

gunwook who loves giving you small kisses to the top of your nose enjoying your reactions

gunwook who loves holding your hand, walking around at night exaggeratedly swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. and and and, squeezing it whenever he gets excited or wants to tell you something.

also please kiss the top of his hand - he’ll melt

gunwook who loves laying on your boobs as you play with his hair when watching a movie. it’s not necessarily sexual he just loves to be this close to you especially knowing no one else can be in this way.

loves whenever you hold onto his arm, when walking or cuddling - secretly loving the way your fingers feel on his bicep

he never misses a good morning or night text

please never miss a „good luck“ text before performances in return tho

send you so many pictures, of things he thinks are cute and especially selfies

nsfw below - minors dni

just a few concepts - will elaborate on the future if you want <3

eats pussy from the back

ride him and let him suck marks onto your titties please

head pusher

tracing his cock over your lips before letting you suck him off

slaps your ass while he has you bent over, crying over his dick

which is thick btw

likes his hair getting pulled

will go crazy if you ask him to put you in a headlock & starts pouting when you say it was just a joke

also loves to go slow, especially when he’s tired - while spoon you and just very lazily grind into you, moaning into your hair

i could go on for hours

[cursedwoman1859]

Arm Candy (Silco/F!Reader)

“I need someone who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.” Silco needs a plus-one for a fancy topsider party. You don't really have a choice but to agree.

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Words: 5.8k

Content: Resolved sexual tension; semi-public sex; vaginal fingering; dirty talk; dubious business ethics

---

It wasn’t often you got called into Silco’s office first thing in the morning. You were a paper-pusher, not one of the battle-hardened henchmen who usually hung around the Last Drop, and your work mostly kept you at your desk. Calculations came as naturally to you as breathing, and you could crunch numbers faster even than Silco himself. In the few months you’d been working for the Eye of Zaun, you’d made yourself indispensable. You helped keep track of the Shimmer shipments going to and from Zaun, you effortlessly slipped the profits from the drugs business into the earnings from the various factories and bars and properties that Silco owned, and once a week you’d spend the evening alone in the office with your stern, exacting boss while you went over that week’s financial reports. Silco needed someone to cook his books, and you prided yourself on being the best damn chef in the undercity. You kept to yourself, you prayed he never noticed your furtive glances up at him when he was absorbed in his work, and you did not cause trouble.

So it was only natural that your stomach twisted itself into knots as you stepped into his office, and that those knots tightened when he looked up from the paper he was reading, his bicoloured stare pinning you and making your walk to stand in front of his desk feel like miles instead of metres.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said when you were near, and the way his eyes flicked over you, almost too quickly for you to notice, did nothing to calm you.

“I did,” he said, his chair creaking as he leaned back in it. You’d definitely never wondered if it could hold two people. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

You could swear that sentence made your brain fritz like a faulty wire. “I, um—” Absolutely nothing was the real answer, but for some reason you didn’t want to admit that. “I made plans with…Ran and Dustin,” you said, saying the first names that came to your mind even though you’d never shared more than small talk with either of them.

Silco’s eyebrow raised as if he could see right through your lie. Which he probably could, because it was completely transparent. “Then cancel them. I need your help at an event.”

“What kind of…event?” you said, your mind reeling with all the things Silco could be alluding to. Shakedowns, back-alley deals, assassinations…

“Don’t look so frightened,” Silco said, taking a cigar from his ashtray and lighting it. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke billow around him as he spoke. “Are you familiar with Ko Shosu?”

It took you a moment to remember the name from some of the background research you’d carried out on Silco’s competitors. “Doesn’t he own that factory that makes gears or something?”

“The very same. He’s hosting a party at his residence topside tomorrow night and unfortunately, I’ll need to make an appearance. Shosu seems to think we’re acquaintances. And on top of that, I happen to know that one of his associates has run into some financial trouble as of late. His factory makes components that are essential to the Shimmer-tanks we’re developing. Now isn’t that a stroke of luck?”

“You want to get to this associate so you can get him to work with you?”

“Exactly. His name is Rupert Torek and he’s run up gambling debts with some very unsavoury people. I’m sure he’ll be cooperative once he realises I can lend him enough money to get himself out of debt before his wife finds out.”

You decided not to ask how Silco could have information like that on someone he’d never even met. For your sanity’s sake, it was better not to know. “And why do you need me, sir?”

It might have just been your imagination, but you could swear Silco looked you up and down again. Slower this time. “I thought that would be obvious. I cannot exactly show up to something like this alone. I need someone who can distract Torek’s wife so I can get five minutes alone with him, and who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.”

“I, um—” you floundered for a minute – the words look pretty on my arm setting your heart racing, which was stupid, he’d literally just said he wanted you to be his arm candy for a night, it meant nothing – and Silco raised an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“You’ll be paid overtime for your trouble, of course,” he said.

“That wasn’t—thank you, sir,” you said quickly.

“Good,” he said, flicking through some of the papers on his desk, his focus already slipping back to his work. “Meet me outside Ko Shosu’s house at eight sharp. Wear something nice and do not be late.”

It was a struggle to focus on your work for the next two days. The figures that usually came so easily to you seemed to blur together until you had to triple-check your spreadsheets in case you’d made an error while your mind insisted on screeching Silco think’s I’m pretty over and over like a stuck record. You were sure he’d meant nothing by that offhanded comment, but that didn’t help anything.

It was almost a relief when the next evening rolled around just so you could focus on doing something.

But that relief didn’t last long when you realised you didn’t have the first clue what you should wear to a party at a topsider’s fancy estate. There wasn’t time to hit up the markets even if you could justify the expense, so you settled for a black dress that was simple, but showed off your figure without showing too much of anything else, as you could at least guess that anything shorter than the knee-length hem of your dress might not go over well among the stiff, buttoned-up topsiders. You’d had the dress a long time and had to stitch it once or twice, but surely nobody would notice a little thing like that.

You felt strangely buoyant as you made your way through the upper districts of Zaun, where at this time in the evening business was just starting to pick up. Lines were forming outside the nicer clubs, the street hawkers were packing up to make way for the crowds, and the air nearly sparkled with Shimmer residue as you passed the open doors of some of the edgier establishments, where topsiders went to get a taste of the undercity without actually having to venture below. You couldn’t even find it within yourself to be annoyed at the arrogant topsiders who came to Zaun to indulge in all the things they couldn’t in Piltover before returning to their cushy homes and easy lives. Tonight felt like an infiltration, and it was you who would be inserting yourself somewhere you could never belong.

-

You met up with Silco outside the gates of Ko Shosu’s estate. He’d gone straight there from a meeting with some topsider businessman, and he was dressed as elegantly as he always was. As you approached you glanced at the people milling around on the wide driveway, and you suddenly felt underdressed.

“You’re almost late,” Silco said by way of greeting, and the nervous knot in your stomach only tightened.

“Sorry, sir. Border guards held me up. You know how they are.” The Enforcer at the checkpoint on the bridge had made a huge fuss over your ID photo having a slightly different hairstyle than you did now, just being an asshole because he was an Enforcer and he could.

“Hm,” was all he said as his eyes raked over you, and your mind instantly went to those little stitches in your dress. You suddenly felt as if he could see every little flaw in you, and the feeling only worsened when a couple of women in glittering floor-length gowns swept past, arm-in-arm and laughing airily.

“Do I look all right?” you said just to break the tense silence. “This is the best I have.”

“You look perfectly acceptable,” Silco said, and that was almost worse than if he hadn’t said anything. Acceptable. You’d be lucky if you weren’t mistaken for a servant. “Shall we?” he said then, offering you his arm. When you hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “Take my arm. We have to at least appear as if we both want to be here.”

“Do you want to be here?” you said as you curled your hand around his elbow, trying to ignore the jolt you felt at touching him, even if he was wearing a coat.

He scoffed. “Of course I don’t. But needs must.”

As you made your way up the long driveway, you couldn’t help but gawk at your surroundings. You knew this wasn’t even close to being the grandest house in all of Piltover, but at that moment you could have believed it. There were at least four floors, the upper two ringed in balconies spilling over with hanging flowers and vines. The next closest house had to be at least a hundred metres away, and in the dark space between you could make out the open expanse of a lawn lit by a ring of ground-level lamps, and manicured trees on each side. You couldn’t imagine what the topsiders would do with such a space – you could probably fit a whole other house in there, even one as large as Shosu’s.

And when you entered the house itself, you actually gasped. “Someone lives here? It looks like a palace.”

Silco shot you a glare as you stared at your surroundings with wide eyes, barely even registering the doorman who came to take your coats. “Remember how I said you were the only one I could trust not to fill your pockets? Don’t make me regret it.”

But you were hardly listening as your eyes roved over the crowded ballroom. It was a sea of fine suits and jewel-toned gowns, with servants darting through the throngs like the quick little fish that lived in the shallows of the river, trays of drinks and tiny pastry-like things balanced on their fingertips. Music drifted from somewhere you couldn’t see, almost drowned out by the chatter, and diamonds glittered at fingers and throats – and even on the ceiling, you noticed as your eyes drifted upwards, or at least it seemed like the chandeliers were draped in strings of gemstones that scattered the lights in every direction.

“Concentrate, girl,” Silco muttered close to your ear, making you shiver. “Remember why we’re here. Torek is over there,” he said, though you couldn’t possibly guess which of the guests he was indicating. “Do you remember your task?”

You dragged your eyes away from the spectacle before you to meet his mismatched eyes. “Keep his wife distracted while you get him to consider working with you. I’ve got it.”

“Good. We won’t need to stay long – an hour at most, then you can go home and do whatever you’d like. Maybe you can even catch Ran and Dustin.” As he said this the corner of his mouth tilted up, and you realised with some shock that the Eye of Zaun was teasing you.

You shrugged in what you hoped was nonchalance. “It takes as long as it takes. You know I’m not one to rush a job.”

“I’m aware,” he said as you started to make your way through the crowd, weaving through the throng as if you weren’t aiming straight for your unfortunate target. Perhaps it was because people knew he was from the Undercity, or maybe whispers of the things his people did in dark alleys and dingy establishments travelled ahead of him, but the dense crowd of people seemed to loosen before him, as if people suddenly remembered they had other places to be when he approached. If it offended him, Silco gave no sign, but instead he leaned in to you again. “He is close now. Laugh like I’ve said something terribly clever, you look petrified.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, but you did as he asked anyway, and it seemed to help. The tension you had felt in the air around you receded a little, and before you knew it Silco was shaking hands with a tall, portly man. You barely heard as he introduced you as his guest for the night, your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears. Rupert Torek had an open, kind face, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he smiled, and he didn’t seem surprised that Silco had sought him out. You wondered if he had any idea how fucked he was.

“We haven’t met before! I’m Liana, Rupert’s wife,” a voice at your side said, making you start, though you quickly smoothed it over with a smile as you turned to the woman who had appeared next to you, introducing yourself and hoping you sounded like you knew you belonged here, just like she did.

Liana glanced between you and Silco, who had already captured her husband’s full attention. Her brows lowered slightly, and you wondered if she had suspicions about her husband’s gambling. “I didn’t know Silco had a partner,” she said carefully.

“Oh, we’re not…together,” you said, laughing airily. “I’m just accompanying him tonight.”

“I see,” Liana said, though now her smile seemed frozen in place, and you wondered if you’d offended her somehow. But nevertheless she called over a couple of her friends, whose names you quickly forgot, and for a moment you were very pleased with yourself. There was no chance Liana would try to join her husband’s conversation while you had her distracted like this.

It was at this point that things started to go wrong.

In hindsight, you should have realised what Liana thought you were implying when you’d said you were accompanying your boss, and what a topsider would think of that particular occupation. But you were a few minutes into a banal, vapid conversation with Liana and her friends about something that you weren’t really paying attention to before you realised that they all thought you were a whore he’d hired for the night, and apparently found this very offensive judging by the bladed smiles and barbed compliments that started heading your way. It didn’t help that you were inadvertently showing much more skin than any of them – and how you were supposed to know the current fashions topside, you had no idea. Pretty soon your fingers were itching to take off one of your high-heeled shoes and beat Liana’s face in with it, but you couldn’t exactly square up in the middle of a ballroom as if you were in a Zaunite dive bar.

So instead, you just played dumb.

You let the thinly-veiled insults, the insinuations that you didn’t belong among them, glance off you. Nobody spent their whole life in Zaun without growing their own kind of armour. Right now yours was keeping your smile frozen firmly on your face, and so Liana was too busy with you to notice that her husband was making a business deal with the Eye of Zaun himself, right under her powdered nose.

That thought made you glance over at Silco, and the second your eyes met his, you felt a strange sort of calm descend over you. Rupert Torek was still chatting away, not even a hint of discomfort on his round face. Silco gave you a minute, almost imperceptible nod, raising his glass of wine slightly.

It had actually worked.

You tried to keep your face blank. That only became harder when Silco turned his attention back to Torek and you realised that when you’d looked over at him, he’d already been watching you.

-

Soon after, you excused yourself to go to the ladies’ room. You were pretty sure Liana and her friends forgot all about you as soon as you were out of sight – or at least you hoped so. You didn’t want to know what they’d be saying about you as soon as you were out of earshot.

You didn’t head to the bathroom, though. Instead you went out the way you’d come in, not bothering to collect your coat from the doorman as you went down the stone steps as fast as you could without running.

As soon as you were outside, away from the glare of the house’s lights, you felt the tightness that had settled in your chest loosen. You hadn’t even noticed the anxiety creep under your skin with every barb Liana and her friends had thrown your way, but when it finally dissipated you wondered how you’d been able to breathe at all.

You should go back now that you’d got your fresh air. You couldn’t just disappear.

But one glance back at the shadowy figures moving through the ballroom windows had you moving away from the house, into the shadows of the grounds where nobody would notice the Zaunite girl who was hilariously out of place among them.

The pathways were lit by low electric lights, and there was nobody else out here. You chose a path along the edge of the grounds, shielded on one side by a high wall and on the other by a huge rosebush bordering the lawn. You weren’t sure whether you were really supposed to be out here, but nobody stopped you as you wandered further into the grounds. 

Eventually you found a bench and you sat down, tipping your head back to watch the stars in the sky. You’d only ever seen them when Silco sent you up to Piltover on business, and on those nights there was never time to stop and really look at them. Down in the Undercity it was difficult to see the sky at all through the smog, let alone the dozens of stars that shimmered through the haze of Piltover’s lights.

For some reason you couldn’t name, tears sprang to your eyes unbidden, and you tried to blink them away without ruining your makeup.

Of course, that was the moment you heard footsteps approaching.

“Drinking alone already?”

Your head snapped up to see Silco strolling towards you, and it was then that you realised you still had your glass of wine in your hand. You sighed, taking a sip as your boss sat down next to you.

“Just needed some air,” you muttered as Silco slung his arm over the back of the bench. It didn’t escape you that if you leaned back, he would have his arm around you. “How did it go with Torek?”

“I expect we’ll be getting a visit from him or one of his associates in the near future. His wife wasn’t too much for you, I take it?”

“I handled it. But they’re all just so…ugh.”

Silco chuckled as he pulled a cigar from somewhere in his coat, and you tried not to let the sound startle you. You’d never heard Silco laugh before, not even a little, and the sound was surprisingly warm. “Don’t worry, we won’t have to do this again for a while.” You watched as he held the cigar between his crooked teeth as he flicked his lighter, the strange angle of the lights highlighting his sharp cheekbones as he took a long drag.

“You know, I don’t think we’re allowed to smoke out here.”

“I don’t care.” He blew a long puff of smoke out into the crisp night air, staining it with a rich scent of tobacco and spices. “Is something bothering you?”

You searched for words to explain the anger tightening your throat, but came up with nothing that made sense. You were a numbers girl. Words were Silco’s thing. You shrugged. “It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m asking, so I would say it does.” His voice had hardened, and you glanced over at him in alarm, though he didn’t look angry.

You didn’t want to push it, though, so you sighed and took a sip from your wine to buy a few seconds, feeling Silco’s mismatched gaze on you the whole time. “It’s just…all they did in there was bitch about things. What I was wearing, how I acted, their husbands, their lives. And yet…” you gestured vaguely at your surroundings. The gardens that must have needed a whole team of people to maintain. The lawn that sat empty when it could have grown enough food to feed a whole street of hungry Zaunites. The house. “They have all this, but it’s all they’ve ever had, so they can’t even see how privileged they really are. Meanwhile we have to scrape every penny just to put food on the table and some people in Zaun don’t even get that. If I lived up here I’d never complain about anything ever again,” you finished, and by now you were speaking into your wine glass, your eyes fixed on the ground.

Silco was quiet for a moment, and you didn’t dare glance up at him to see if you could gauge what he was really thinking. You’d never been so candid with your boss before, and you half expected him to leave and pretend tonight had never happened. The very last thing you expected him to say was, “What if I told you that tonight had been something of a test of your loyalties?”

Now you did look up, and he was watching you with that kind of calculated detachment he was so good at, though something in the hard lines of his face had softened. Or maybe it was just the moonlight.

“I don’t understand, sir.”

He took his time answering, taking another long drag of his cigar and releasing the smoke in a ring. “You’ve been with me a short while now, and you’re a very talented accountant. With your skills and some forged papers you could easily find work topside. Something with less risk and more pay.”

You flushed at his insinuation. “You pay me just fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “All wages are higher topside, you know that. You could have walked out of that house with a whole list of people who would pay you far more than I can for the same work, but you didn’t. Instead you stood there and allowed me to work on Torek while everyone in that room thought you were just some girl I’d hired for the night.”

You started to splutter a protest, but it died on your lips when you realised Silco was right. If you’d revealed your real job it would have raised Liana’s suspicions.

“It’s a long road ahead of us until Zaun is an independent nation. The topsiders won’t let us go without a fight,” he said, his voice dropping in case you weren’t alone in the gardens. “There will be times when you are tempted by offers of money, better jobs in better places, employers who won’t ask you to break the topsiders’ laws every day. I needed to know that you were true to the cause, that you would remain loyal to me even when you had the opportunity to make things easier for yourself.”

“You were giving me an out,” you said as it clicked into place. “Why now?”

“Because by now, you know exactly what you’re getting into by staying. Your choice to work for me is a genuine one.”

“So did I pass? Your test, I mean.”

“We would not be sitting here now if you had failed.”

You weren’t involved in the…bloodier side of Silco’s business, but you weren’t ignorant to it, either. You knew what he did to people he suspected of disloyalty. Would he really have let you go if you’d wanted? Or would you have disappeared into the shadows of the Lanes, never to be heard from again? You wouldn’t be the first. But then you realised that you’d never been afraid of that, because you would never give him a reason to doubt your loyalties. Zaun had to break free of Piltover, and he was the only one with the wits, the resources, and the sheer bloody-mindedness to finally cut the undercity free.

A sudden cold breeze blew in off the river, making the hedges surrounding you tremble, and you became acutely aware that you had left your coat inside. Before you could give yourself the chance to think better of it, you leaned back, and as you’d suspected, Silco didn’t move his arm. He didn’t quite put his arm around you, but he traced a circle on your bare shoulder with the back of his thumb, almost as if he was reluctant to touch you in case he scared you off.

“We can return to the party if you wish,” he said, and now he was near enough for his warm breath on your ear to send shivers along your skin that had nothing to do with the chilled night air.

“I prefer it out here.”

“As do I.” He held his cigar between his teeth as he reached into his coat and produced a small metal hip flask.

You couldn’t help but snort as he uncapped it and the smell of whiskey hit your nose. “You brought your own alcohol?”

He took a swig and then passed the flask to you. “Better than the swill they’re serving in there.”

“That swill is probably very expensive.”

“So is this. Drink.”

You took a small sip and were proud of yourself when you didn’t cough, even though the whiskey was strong enough to make your eyes water. A pleasant warm sensation spread out from your chest as you swallowed, though, and you shivered as you licked a drop off your lip. “Definitely tastes expensive.”

You looked up at him, and Silco’s eyes quickly snapped away from your mouth as he made a vague hum of agreement. For a while neither of you spoke, and you only passed the flask back and forth in companionable silence. The music that drifted towards you on the wind picked up in pace, and you heard the occasional drunken shout in the distance. Still nobody ventured into the dark grounds.

“Earlier I told you that you looked acceptable,” Silco said all of a sudden as he tapped out his half-smoked cigar and put it back in the tin. “I believe I should have told you that you look lovely instead.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, and you risked a glance up at your boss – who had told you that you would look pretty on his arm, who had trusted you with this mission and had noticed when you slipped off to be alone. Nobody ever did that.

Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe you were delusional or perhaps just stupid. You didn’t really know why you did it, but before you could think better of it, you leaned over and kissed him.

It was only a quick, chaste press of your lips against his, and you instantly regretted it when Silco stayed completely still against you. You jerked backwards, already apologising. “I’m so sorry sir, I shouldn’t—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Silco’s hand was firm on the back of your neck as he pulled you towards him and kissed you. Properly this time. It was your turn to freeze in shock, but you quickly got over it as his tongue danced against yours and you tasted whiskey and smoke. You eagerly let him in as he deepened the kiss, shivering as his hand slid up your leg from your knee to your thigh, and for the first time that night you were glad of your too-short skirt.

You gasped in surprise as he pulled you onto his lap, barely breaking the kiss as he made you straddle him, your skirt riding up as your thighs spread. Feeling bold, you ran your hands through his soft hair, and he hummed in approval as you raked your nails through the short hair at the base of his neck. In response he gave your ass a firm squeeze, grinding you down onto his lap.

And onto the hard length beneath you.

You circled your hips against him as he moved down to your neck, holding you in place with a hand in your hair pulling just tight enough to hurt as he bit more than kissed you, leaving marks that would definitely be impossible to hide in this dress. You couldn’t give a shit. No way were you going back into that stupid party after this.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted this,” Silco said, emphasising his point with a sharp snap of his hips up against you.

“I—” you started, but you could only focus on his hands creeping up your thighs again. Except this time, they didn’t stop.

“Go on,” he coaxed, as if you were supposed to focus on anything except his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. You hissed as he tugged them down and the cold night air hit your pussy, and it faded into a whimper as he trailed his fingers along your lips, pausing to circle your entrance in a way that made your back arch. “And don’t you dare try to lie to me, sweetheart, because you’re already wet for me.”

“Um…” you tried to focus on anything but the soft, barely-there brush of his fingers against your pussy. Every time you tried to grind against his hand he moved away, keeping his touch just a little too soft, the bastard. “I think – maybe…”

“A few weeks?” he prompted.

“Mm – no…”

He raised an eyebrow, but rewarded your answer by pressing his thumb against your clit, though he still refused to give you what you wanted. Needed.

“Months?”

“Longer. Since… I wanted this since my first day working for you.” Finally, Silco slid one long finger into you as his thumb drew an agonisingly slow circle over your clit, and your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

“Do you want to know a secret, my lovely?” he said, his fingers moving faster, obscene wet noises filling the air.

“M-hm.”

“I have you beat. I’ve wanted this since I interviewed you.”

Your eyes flew open at his admission just as he sank another finger into you without warning. Later. You could think about what he’d said later. For now you just let yourself enjoy the curl of his long fingers inside you, the expert ministrations of his thumb on your clit that sent waves of warm pleasure up your spine.

Until the bastard stopped.

He withdrew his hand from you, and his fingers glistened in the moonlight from your wetness. Your eyes widened as he licked them clean, then he motioned for you to stand. “Get up. Go and stand at the end of the bench.”

You followed his directions on shaky legs, and Silco followed, casually strolling around to stand behind you. You had a good idea of what he intended. He trailed his fingers up your bare arms, then fisted one hand in your hair while the other held your bicep in a bruising grip. “If you want this to stop,” he purred in your ear, “say the word now.”

You only pushed back against him, feeling his hard length behind you.

“I thought not.” Then he bent you over the arm of the bench, the ornate steel armrest digging into your hips as he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees. You weren’t sure if you shivered with the cool breeze or the anticipation as you heard him unbutton his pants, his hand still in your hair. Then you hissed as you felt the press of his cock against your centre, arched your back as he slid it through your wetness before finally sinking into you as his free hand started playing with your clit once more.

Your voice rose in a high, keening cry as he sheathed himself inside you, easing the ache of his entry with his fingers on your clit. He stopped abruptly, pulling you up by your hair. “Hush now,” he hissed in your ear as he let go of your hair and shoved his fingers in your mouth. You could taste the echo of yourself on his skin. “You don’t want them to think you really are my whore, do you?”

You choked around his fingers for a moment before you relaxed your throat enough that you could shake your head and make a garbled nuh-uh sound, which earned you a low chuckle.

“I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart,” he said as he started to move, setting a quick, urgent pace that reminded you that anybody could come around the corner and see you bent over a bench with the most powerful man in the Undercity driving into you from behind as you gagged on his fingers. Every thrust of his hips ground yours against the metal armrest, and you knew you’d surely have bruises in the morning. “I wish we were somewhere I could fuck you properly. Take you apart piece by piece until you’re nothing more than a writhing, crying mess in my bed. But perhaps you do like the idea of someone seeing you, seeing how well you’re taking me. How wet you are.” His breathing was becoming shallow as he fucked you, but that didn’t stop the stream of filth from his mouth. “I don’t know about you, but I would kill to see the look on Ko Shosu’s face when he realises we used his party to lure his friend into our web and then defiled his rose garden right under his nose.”

He said something else after that too, but you’d stopped listening to his words and let the low, rough cadence of his voice be the final push you needed over that peak you’d been approaching, once interrupted and now higher than ever. Even Silco’s fingers in your mouth weren’t enough to muffle your cries as you came, your thighs shaking from the strain of standing while your walls clamped down on Silco’s cock, over and over again in waves of agonising bliss. He followed soon after, and you felt a warm rush as he spilled himself inside you with a groan he muffled in your neck.

For a moment you both stood there, catching your breath. You sighed in relief as Silco removed his fingers from your mouth, and after tucking himself away he cleaned you up with a handkerchief before pulling your panties back up for you. “You felt just as good as I’d imagined you would,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your abused scalp.

“Is that something you imagined often, sir?” you said teasingly.

“Most nights,” he murmured into your hair. “And perhaps some days, too.”

Well, damn. You had no idea what to say to that, other than, “Me too.” Maybe you had actually drank too much. “Take me home,” you said, leaning back against his chest as he straightened out your skirts. You felt him smile against your hair.

“It would be my absolute pleasure.”

[eustasskidagenda]

Hello and I hope you’re doing great. Can you do some headcanons for Kidd, Doflamingo, Law, Sanji and Zoro having their nails painted by their s/o ? Like if they would accept or not and how they would act. I hope my request is okay and comprehensible, English isn’t my first language :) Thx!!

☆Kid, Doflamingo, Law, Sanji & Zoro having their nails painted by their s/o 

Hello anon! Don't worry, it was perfectly understandable and English isn't my first language as well, so everything is fine ♡ Tysm for your request, it was a fun one! Hope it will match your expectations ☆

CW : g/n reader, funny, fluff, kid is an idiot but I love him, really but really slight n/sfw for Doflamingo, a bit of n/sfw at the end for Kid, word "blood" used for Kid, cursing on Kid and Zoro part, French used on Sanji part because I love when Sanji talks in French ugh. 

WC : around 1,890

Kid

Have you seen him? Always with a manicure on top.  

Kid is a punk, of course he likes having his nails all done, especially in a beautiful red color, like the blood of his enemies. But he is no longer capable of doing his own nails after losing his arm. He frequently asks Killer, but this time you must handle this daunting task. So good luck.

Beware, Kid is a freak with his nails. He has all the necessary tools for a flawless manicure. So first thing first, you have to use a cuticle pusher. Go ahead, he's closely watching. Do not dare mess with his nails, being a punk is a whole lifestyle and his nails and make-up have to be perfect, otherwise he's pissed off for the entire day. 

You must also use the nail file. He will be furious if some nails are not cut well or are not the same length. His hand needs to be perfect for doing some angry punk stuff.

"Oh, Y/N, what the fuck are you doing? Don't put the color first; use the base. Don't you know nothing about nail art?"

Heavy sighs. His feet stomped. Sigh again. He just can't stay still for more than 5 minutes straight. 

He would probably snarl at you and closely watch what you're doing with his hand. Don't dare put polish on his fingers, or you'll have to clean it. 

Fidgeting the whole damn time, he's becoming increasingly annoyed. He's so impatient. Would  end up laying on the table, head against the wood, with his hand on yours, sighing and growling stuff like "you're really shit at this" and "hmpf, y/n, don't use multiple layers, it makes some ugly relief, do I really have to teach you everything?". 

Yes, he's a beauty influencer with his nails and makeup. 

"I could do better, even with my prosthesis hand."

He stares at you impatiently all the time.

He's feeling low-key annoyed because he used to do his nails himself, but now he has to depend on Killer or you. 

"Ugh, y/n, use the top coat. Don't you know nothing about nail art?"

The angry red tulip would probably say, 'ugh, you and Killer are so slow' and 'don't let the bottle open, nail polish is expensive'. 

He is cheeky because he stole all of his make-up and manicure supplies. 

Once everything is done, he would take a close look at your work and eventually growl, 'Yeah, I guess it will work'. 

In fact, he's thanking you. In return, he offers a flawless manicure for you, and he excels at it even with just one hand. He deserves praise because his work is mesmerizing, right? Right? RIGHT?

NSFW bonus: And later in the bedroom, I guess Kid would be the kind of guy to wrap his manicured hand around your neck, like "what a beautiful collar you got there" while he slides his cock in and out of you.

Doflamingo

As soon as he heard your request, he gave an evil smile. You want to paint his nails? Fine, go ahead. But, do you really believe that someone as manipulative as him would say yes without having an idea in mind? You fool.

He would act all innocent, just nodding and letting you grab all your stuff. 

Either paint his nails pink or leave them alone. 

Watching your small hand in his would be a delight for him. He thinks it makes you adorable. 

You're feeling nervous because he's closely watching you through his glasses. Even more when his grin pops out again. "So, if you overflow, you know I'll have to punish you?" He smirks, staying still as you frown. Oh, you're not really afraid. Doflamingo punishments are... something, to be honest. But you want to do his nails perfectly, so now you're even more focused.

Doflamingo would take note of how often you frown and concentrate on his nails. Your work is truly perfect. The pink matches his coat perfectly. But he's a bit angry because he intends to have fun with you. 

He would use his devil fruit in a sneaky way to make you fail. Something really small, but enough to make your finger slip and miss the spot. 

"Y/N, you were so close, it's a shame. My nails are now completely ruined. Do you want me to look foolish in front of others? I have to teach you some manners... you little brat..."

Let's assume that you are okay with being punished more frequently.

Law

"Y/N-ya, one day, I'll study your brain" 

A lot of mumbles. Why do you feel the need to paint his nails? He is too busy and stressed to dedicate time to this. He is always planning mischief or taking care of his patients. Why would he sit and stay still while you're painting his poor nails? Leave him alone.

Wet puppy eyes would make him sigh heavily. "Fine."

Of course, black polish. 

He may be annoyed, but he's also a teaser, so he might try to cause you trouble just to see you shake and miss your mark. 

He would secretly enjoy this intimate moment with you. The warmth of your hand, your satisfied smile, and how focused you are on your task. You’re just so beautiful and attractive.

"What's top coat? You forgot it in the bedroom? Room, shambles. Here's the topcoat."

He would try to make the moment last longer, like slightly moving so you have to stop from time to time and wait for him to stay still again.

After it's finished, he would pay close attention. "Nice job." 

Fortunately, he's intelligent enough to wait until the polish is completely dry before touching it. To be honest, he is pleased with the outcome. The black color matches his tattoo, and it's a small present from you. When he's alone and working late, he would look lovingly at his nails, thinking about you. He has a soft spot, but he hates showing it in front of you. He hates showing his weakness. Even if he trusts you, a part of him is traumatized and doesn't want to show that he's just a normal human with failures and weaknesses. 

Low-key trying to keep his manicure as long as possible, trying to use his hands less often than usual, refusing to cook, etc., and he's kind of sad when it starts to flake.

Zoro 

Poor marimo is totally confused. Like… painting his nails? What does it mean? His nails are too narrow to be painted on. Does his body resemble a canvas? Are you actually talking about a manicure? Oh. Anyway… Why him? Come on, he's really annoyed.

He's a serious guy, so why does he have his nails painted? "Do you really hate me so much to ask such a stupid thing?"

"Lemme sleep, y/n, I don't have time for your shit. Luffy would love this shitty idea, just ask him."

A lot of mumbles. He finds it absurd. Do swordsmen use painted nails to fight? Of course not. And Sanji would laugh at him. Ugh, no way. But well, you know Zoro, he would end up accepting because he wants to make you happy. 

Totally dead serious and annoyed as you're locked in your room. 

"What, you want to paint a cactus? Ugh, go ahead, I'm already way too involved in this mess."

As you begin to paint his nails, there will be a lot of mumbling. 

But at least he's totally still and just watching with a neutral face, except when there's a slight blush on his cheeks. He can't handle how adorable you are when you're focused. But he can't handle how stupid he looks with some random cactus on his nails? As a swordsman, he's not as sophisticated as the cook with twirly eyebrows. 

"Have you done?" All the cinq minutes with an annoyed tone. 

It’s obvious that he would end up sleeping. He's tired and it's taking a lot of time. After finishing his nails, you have to wake him up. After a lot of yawns, he would look at his nails, sigh, and then shrug. "Happy now?" 

And as you nod with a cute smile on his face, he gets all embarrassed again. 

You'll have to make it later since he has given you a big favor and now you have to return it. 

He would be very serious in front of the crew. But mad if the goddamn cook starts to make fun of him. "At least, I'm not a single" 

Poor Sanji.

Zoro values hard work and practice. He would notice that you took a lot of time to draw all the cactuses. Until the drawing fades, he will keep the nails.

Sanji 

Sanji is a lover of love. If he can do anything for his s/o, then he's the happiest man in the whole universe. But when it comes to his hands, he's always a bit nervous. He takes great care of his hands, always doing self-care to keep them smooth and perfect. His nails are always properly cut and finished. 

"Mon amour, je ne sais pas si c'est une bonne idée" (my love, I don't know if it's a good idea) 

He really wants to please you, but he's concerned about hurting his hands or possibly contaminating the food while cooking. Reassure him and he'll accept. He's a kind and gentle lover who wants to make you smile no matter what. 

Sanji has a sense of style, so he'll request something that matches his attire. Or maybe the color of your eyes, as a small reminder of your mesmerizing beauty? You have the option to choose between two ideas, and he trusts you with the outcome. 

He would gaze at you with eyes full of admiration and love, always giving you praise. "Y/N, it's beautiful, je suis si fier de toi" (I'm so proud of you)" 

Honestly the best: he stays still, doesn't move his hands or touch the polish while it's drying. Really patient. Heart pounding really fast every time he crosses your gaze. Damn, he loves  spending time with you so much.

Once it's all done, he's a bit sad because he wishes it could be last for a whole eternity. He would cherish his manicure and show it proudly to all the crew. And, as a reward and a thank you for the beautiful job, of course, he'll thank you with a good meal, a great drink, a lot of hugs and a sweet kiss. 

"Merci, mon amour" (Thank you my love)

While he's cooking, he absolutely loves watching his nails, always laughing quietly with the memory of his lovely moment rooted in his soul. 

When the manicure disappears, he would take it off while sobbing the entire time, because he's sad. 

Can you re-paint my nails, Y/N? 

The sweetest ♡

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine with a fem reader who has a strong sense of justice and short temper? Which gets her into fights often (both verbal and physical). I can imagine her fuming at seeing how Aventurine is talked down to sometimes and talking constant smack about the IPC. Oh and what if she had Boothill's accent—

Reckless, but Right

Summary: Aventurine dazzles the casino crowd with his skillful gameplay and effortless charm. When an opponent lashes out after losing, you, Aventurine's fiery and fiercely protective partner, step in, shutting down the tension with your no-nonsense attitude and southern sass. Despite Aventurine’s insistence that he can handle himself, your unwavering defense and genuine belief in his worth leave him momentarily disarmed. As you walk out together, Aventurine reflects on how your love and support anchor him in a cutthroat world, making him feel like the true winner in life.

Tags: Aventurine x Female!Reader, Romance, Fluff, Southern Accent, Protective Reader, Verbal Sparring, IPC Criticism, Gambling Themes, Banter.

Warnings: Mild profanity, References to gambling and manipulation, Mentions of corporate corruption and disrespect.

A/N: this reminded me of my Madea fic 🫣

The dimly lit casino hall hummed with the murmur of voices and the soft chime of slot machines. At the center of the floor, Aventurine stood at a card table, the faint smirk on his lips betraying his confidence as he laid his cards down. His signature hat rested jauntily on his hair, and his eyes gleamed behind rose-tinted glasses. Every move he made seemed effortless, calculated—a dance of precision and charm.

Across the table, his opponent scowled, their loss evident by the pile of chips Aventurine had neatly collected.

“Better luck next time.” he said, his voice smooth, laced with just enough sarcasm to make his opponent flush with anger.

But before the tension could escalate, your voice cut through the air like a whip.

“That’s what ya get for underestimatin’ him, ya overgrown buffoon!” you said, stepping up behind Aventurine with all the fire of a Southern storm.

Heads turned at your arrival. Dressed simply but with an undeniable presence, you didn’t care much for the glitz and glamor of the casino. Your fiery personality was your true calling card.

Aventurine turned, his smirk widening at the sight of you. “Darlin’, I thought I told you to behave while I worked.”

You crossed your arms, your piercing gaze flickering to the man at the table. “I was behavin’, sugar. Until I saw this here jackass actin’ like you weren’t worth his time. Now, I don’t take kindly to folks disrespectin’ my man.”

The man bristled, but one look at your steely glare—and your clenched fists—made him think twice about opening his mouth. He muttered something under his breath before stalking off, and the crowd that had gathered quickly dissipated.

Aventurine chuckled, gathering his winnings. “You know, my dear, there’s something terribly poetic about you charging into my defense, especially when I hardly need it.”

You huffed, poking a finger into his chest. “I don’t care if ya need it or not. Ain’t nobody gonna talk down to ya while I’m around. IPC or not.”

His eyes softened, the playful mask slipping for a brief moment. “You truly are one of a kind.”

“Damn straight,” you said with a wink, though your tone quickly turned serious. “But let’s talk ‘bout the IPC. You’re too good for them vultures, sugar. All they care about is profits. They don’t see the man behind the mask.”

Aventurine tilted his head, intrigued. “And what do you see?”

You leaned closer, your accent thick as molasses. “I see a man who’s brilliant, who’s got more guts and brains than those pencil-pushers could ever dream of. I see someone who don’t need to play by their rules to win.”

For once, Aventurine was rendered speechless, his normally quick wit failing him. Your unshakable belief in him had a way of disarming him like nothing else.

He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours in a gesture both intimate and grounding. “And here I thought I was the gambler in this relationship. But it seems you’ve already gone all in on me.”

You grinned, the fiery spark in your eyes never dimming. “Damn right I have. And don’t you forget it.”

As you both left the casino, Aventurine couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. In a world where high stakes ruled and facades were currency, you were the rare, unyielding force that reminded him of who he truly was—and who he wanted to be.

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ A ©FRESHL6VE ORIGINAL ONE—SHOT 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐈 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬��𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐥, my feet dangling in the air above the concrete below. I watch as Chris effortlessly skates along the smooth surface, his body flowing gracefully with each movement. I feel my heart calm with each one of his tricks, the familiar routine of watching him skate acting like a soothing balm in my chaotic home life.

As he skates closer, Chris smiles at me, acknowledging her silent presence and unwavering support. He easily hops up to the edge of the bowl where I’m sitting, taking a seat beside me.

For a few moments, we sit in comfortable silence, our eyes both fixed on the sunset as it begins to paint the sky in warm, orange hues. The soft glow of the setting sun casts a glow on Chris’ face, highlighting his defined features and making him look more alluring than ever.

I turn my face away from the sunset and towards Chris, my eyes looking over at his profile. I notice his usual carefree expression is tinged with a hint of tension, and I raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Why’d you stop?” I finally break the silence, my voice echoing with a note of concern.

Chris lets out a small laugh, running a hand through his hair before he responds. “Just needed a break,” he replies easily, as if it were nothing. “Pushing myself too hard, needed to catch my breath for a second.”

I chuckle softly, shaking my head teasingly. “That's a first. You're always pushing yourself to the limit, never even seeming to care if you need to gasp for air,” I say, my voice gentle but filled with mirth.

“Maybe I’m getting tired in my old age,” Chris replies with a smirk, resting his elbow on his knee and turning so that he’s facing me more directly. “Soon I’ll be needing a cane and a wheelchair to get around the skate park.”

I smile, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “And who's going to be there to push you around the park when that day comes?” I ask, my voice light and teasing.

Chris laughs, shaking his head before replying. “You, of course. You know Matt or Nick won't do it, and with my luck I'd somehow end up sending myself into a wall or something.”

I chuckle, picturing Chris accidentally propelling himself into a wall and wincing with sympathy. “You're probably right. I can't picture Matt or Nick being very keen on being the designated wheelchair pusher.”

Chris grins, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows. “They'd probably just laugh and leave me stranded somewhere. You're the only one I can trust to faithfully push me wherever I need to go.”

I laugh, my eyes returning to the orange and pink hues of the evening sky. The banter between us fades into a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft rustle of the wind through the trees.

The skate park was Chris's territory, and every time we visited the place was eerily empty and silent. He was the only one who really knew how to skate, but he always offered to help me learn.

Chris looked at me with a concerned expression, his voice soft as he asked, “How's everything?” He paused for a moment before continuing, “I know we promised not to talk about it, but I just wanted to check in. When you called me, you sounded different than most times.”

I shrugged my shoulders, a flicker of helplessness and resignation appearing in my eyes. “It's been the same,” I muttered, my voice quiet and strained. “The arguments, the yelling, the tension. It's the same, just louder and more chaotic than ever before.”

I looked up at the sky, my eyes burning and watery as a lump formed in my throat.

“I just wanna get out of there, Chris,” I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion, tears beginning to well up in my eyes. “It's too much sometimes. It's like I'm drowning in the chaos, and I can't find my way out.”

I continued, my voice growing more desperate and emotional with each word. “Everything's always so loud and out of control. There's no sense of peace or calmness. It's just constant yelling and arguing, and I can't handle it anymore. I feel like I'm suffocating, like I'm stuck in a place where I don't belong. I just want to escape, I just want to be free from it all.”

I took a shaky breath, my eyes meeting his as I continued. “You make me feel free,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. “When I'm with you, the world seems less chaotic, less harsh. It's like you have the ability to mute all the noise and create a space just for us, where we can ignore the outside world and just be.”

Chris's gaze softened, his eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of concern and affection. “You don't have to suffer through it alone,” he replied gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on my knee. “You always have a place here, with me, where you can find peace and escape. I'll always be here for you.”

I felt a wave of warmth spread through me at his words, the sincerity in his voice bringing a fresh wave of tears to my eyes. “Thank you,” I whispers, my voice choked with emotion. “That means more to me than you could ever know.”

Chris stands up, a small, strained smile on his face as he asks, “Your dad still hate me though?” He starts to skate slowly, circling around the bowl as he waits for my response.

I sigh, nodding somberly as I reply, “Unfortunately, yeah, he does. He still thinks you're a 'bad influence' and doesn't want me hanging out with you.”

Chris lets out a bitter chuckle, continuing to skate as he responds, “Yeah, I figured as much. It's been the same old story every time we meet, hasn't it?”

I nod again, an annoyed frown on my face as I think about my dad's constant disapproval. “Yeah, it has. Every time he catches me sneaking out to see you, it's the same argument. He just doesn't understand why I enjoy spending time with you.”

Chris skates a tight circle around the bowl before responding, a self-deprecating smirk on his face. “Because I'm a skater with no future, as he says,” he echoed, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and bitterness.

I chuckled despite the sentiment, knowing full well that my dad had indeed said similar things about Chris and his passion for skating.

I watch with both fascination and sorrow as Chris continues skating, his movements both graceful and melancholic. Despite the constant criticism and disapproval from my dad, there was something captivating about watching Chris glide through the air, making even the most difficult tricks look like poetry in motion.

Chris suddenly landed a particularly impressive trick, sticking the landing with a look of pure determination on his face. As he came to a stop, he turned to face me, a small, satisfied smile on his face.

“What did you think of that one?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of pride and vulnerability, as if he was seeking my validation more than ever.

I smiled back at him, genuinely impressed by his skill. “It was incredible. You made it look so easy,” I complimented, watching as a flicker of relief passed through his eyes, as if my approval meant more to him than he would ever let on.

Chris sat back down beside me, looking straight ahead as he spoke. “Me, Matt and Nick were talking,” he began, pausing momentarily before continuing, “and we were thinking you should come move in with us.”

I raised an eyebrow in surprise, not expecting such a sudden offer. “Move in with you guys?” I repeated, a hint of disbelief in my voice. “Are you serious?”

Chris nodded, leaning back and supporting his weight on his palms.

“Yeah, dead serious. You can stay with me in my room, and we thought it'd be a good way to get you out of the toxic environment you're in right now,” he explained, his words honest and direct.

I sighed, my mind already picturing the myriad of insults and threats my parents would throw my way if I even mentioned moving out.

“I would love to, but—” I began, only to be cut off by Chris's firm yet gentle tone. “C’mon, Y/N. You're old enough to make your own decisions, not your dad, not even your mom. You can't let their approval dictate your life forever.”

I started to protest, opening my mouth to speak, but Chris quickly cut me off, grabbing my hand firmly and looking me straight in the eyes.

“Escape with me,” he repeated, his voice filled with both determination and tenderness. “Feel the actual freedom you've always wanted to feel, not just those three hours of freedom we get with each other and then being trapped in that toxic home of yours.”

My heart fluttered at the intensity in his gaze, his words echoing through my mind. “But... my parents, they'll—” I started to object, my voice trailing off as I thought about the confrontation that would surely follow if I went through with this.

Chris squeezed my hand tighter, his expression firm yet reassuring. “They won't do anything to you because I'll be there,” he promised, his voice filled with the unwavering confidence that had always attracted me to him. “I won't let anything happen. You have my word.”

I felt a wave of comfort wash over me, his words melting away some of the fear and anxiety I felt about confronting my parents. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice small but sure. “Okay, I'll do it. I'll escape with you.”

Chris smiled, relief and happiness evident in his expression. “You won't regret this,” he said, still holding my hand. “You're going to experience a whole new level of freedom, and I'll be right beside you every step of the way.”

I smiled back, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation building within me. For the first time in a long time, I felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel, a way out of the chaos and abuse.

“I trust you,” I whispered, my voice filled with a mix of gratitude and affection.

Chris smiled, his free arm wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest. He held me close, his strong frame providing a sense of comfort and security I hadn't felt in ages.

As I leaned into him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, knowing that I was making the right decision.

We both looked out at the sky, watching as the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The last rays of sunlight cast a warm, soft glow over the skatepark, bathing everything in a peaceful and calming light.

Chris broke the comfortable silence, his voice light and playful. “Can I teach you how to skate?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his gaze.

I chuckled, shaking my head in mock despair. “No, I will literally eat shit if I even step on a skateboard,” I replied, recalling the numerous falls and nosedives I'd experienced whenever I tried skating.

Chris chuckled, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Not if I'm there, you won’t,” he said confidently. “I'll make sure you won't eat shit the entire time.”

I rolled my eyes but there was a hint of a smile on my face. “Oh really? And how are you gonna manage that, huh? Gonna hold my hand the entire time?”

Chris chuckled again, his grip on my shoulders tightening slightly. “I mean, if that helps, yeah,” he echoed, his tone slightly cocky yet teasing. “I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you don't fall on your face.”

I laughed, shaking my head at his confidence. “And what if I fall anyway, even with you holding my hand?”

Chris smirked, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “I'll fall with you,” he replied, his voice filled with playful nonchalance. “That way, your fall will be less embarrassing if I'm there to share the humiliation.”

I chuckled, the mental image of us both falling in a heap on the ground making me laugh even more. “Oh, how generous of you,” I quipped, a sarcastic tone in my voice. “Taking one for the team, huh? What a gentleman.”

Chris chuckled, pushing himself up to his feet and holding out a hand to help me up. “C'mon, let's give it a shot. You never know, you might actually enjoy it.”

I hesitated for a moment, eyeing the skateboard with trepidation. But then I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. “If I end up looking like a complete fool, I’m blaming you,” I warned jokingly, bracing myself.

Chris smiled, his grip on my hand firm and steady. “You won't look like a fool, I promise,” he assured me, his voice filled with confidence. “And if you do, I’m right there with you. Now, let's see if you can stand on the board without falling over.”

I took a deep breath and stepped onto the skateboard, gripping his hand tightly for balance. My legs immediately felt wobbly and unbalanced, but Chris held onto me, helping me to stay upright.

“I feel like I’m gonna fall any second,” I muttered, my voice laced with uncertainty. Chris chuckled, his hand still firmly supporting me. “Just take a deep breath and relax. I’ve got you.”

Following his instructions, I took a slow, measured breath, trying to calm my nerves a bit. The skateboard wobbled beneath me, but Chris's grip on my hand never wavered, keeping me from falling.

“That's it,” Chris encouraged, a hint of pride in his voice. “Just focus on keep your balance.” I took another deep breath, trying to convince myself that I could do this. The board beneath me felt unsteady, but I didn’t fall.

“You're doing great,” Chris praised, his voice gentle and encouraging. “Now, try to push yourself forwards with your other foot.”

I timidly lifted my other foot and pushed off the ground, causing the board to move slowly forward. I instantly felt my balance falter, but Chris's steady grip on my hand kept me from falling off.

“That’s it! You're doing it!” Chris exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. “Just keep going, you're doing great.”

I kept pushing myself forward, the board moving a bit faster now. My heart was racing, but I also felt a strange sense of exhilaration.

“Okay, now try to turn slightly,” Chris instructed, his voice still filled with encouragement. “Just lean gently on your toes and we'll make a small turn.”

I obeyed his instructions, leaning slightly onto my toes and feeling the board respond, veering to the side slightly. The movement felt foreign and unnatural, but at the same time, it was strangely thrilling.

“Perfect!” Chris praised, his grip on my hand still secure. “You're a natural. Let's try it again, but a bit more this time.”

I nodded, gathering my courage and pushing off again. This time, I leaned a bit more heavily onto my toes, and the board turned more sharply, the movement feeling both terrifying and liberating.

“Nice!” Chris exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration. “You're catching on quick. Let's pick up the speed a bit, see how it feels.”

I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves as I pushed off a bit harder, sending the board speeding ahead a bit faster than before. The wind rushed past me, and the feeling was both terrifying and electrifying.

Chris chuckled, his grip on my hand steady as ever. “Alright, now that we're going a bit faster, let's learn how to stop,” he said, his voice calm and composed. “You're gonna have to push down on the back of the board, kinda like you're stomping on it.”

“Sort of,” Chris explained, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You don’t have to stomp, more like a gentle but firm pressure. Here, let me show you.”

He demonstrated, pushing down on the back of the board with his foot, causing it to slow down almost instantly.

“See? It's like a brake. Gentle enough to slow you down, but strong enough to stop you completely.” I watched closely, mentally noting the way his foot shifted, applying pressure to the tail of the board.

“Now, you try it,” he encouraged, his grip on my hand still anchoring me. I swallowed my fear and mimicked the motion, pressing down gently on the back of the board. Sure enough, the skateboard started to slow down, eventually coming to a gradual stop.

“Good job!” Chris praised, looking genuinely impressed. “See? You’re a natural at this. Soon enough you'll be doing tricks in no time.”

I chuckled, my heart still racing from the adrenaline rush. “Don't get ahead of yourself. I’ve barely managed to stand on the board without eating shit.”

Chris chuckled, amused by my self-deprecating remark. “Okay, I think you've got the hang of it enough to try without me holding your hand now,” he said, his voice soft yet confident. “Don’t worry, I’m right here if you start to lose balance.”

Chris gripped my hand tight, giving me a reassuring nod. “Okay, I'm gonna give you a little push to start moving and then let go, alright?” he said. “Just focus on keeping your balance and push off when you feel steady.”

I nodded, taking a few deep breaths to steady my nerves. Chris then began jogging, slowly increasing the speed as he pulled me along. Then, without warning, he released my hand, letting me glide forward on my own.

Despite the initial shock of losing Chris's support, I managed to maintain my balance, the skateboard responding to my every slight shift in weight. A small, tentative smile played on my face as I cruised across the skatepark, the wind rushing past me and the board rolling smoothly beneath my feet.

“I'm doing it!” I exclaimed, a hint of surprise in my voice. “I'm actually doing it!” Chris jogged alongside me, a proud smile on his face. “I told you, you could do it,” he called out, matching my pace.

Emboldened by my success, I decided to test my newfound skill. I gently applied pressure to the back of the board, just as Chris had taught me. The skateboard slowed down gradually, and eventually came to a smooth stop. I let out an elated laugh, feeling an incredible sense of accomplishment.

“Look at you, pro skateboarder in the making!” Chris teased, his eyes sparkling with genuine pride. “I guess I’m a pretty good teacher, huh?”

I laughed, my cheeks feeling flushed from the thrill of victory. “Yeah, yeah, don’t pat yourself on the back too hard,” I retorted, the sarcasm in my voice contradicted by the wide smile on my face.

Chris chuckled, his own smile matching mine. “Hey, I’ll take compliment where I can get it,” he joked, shrugging his shoulders. “You know you couldn’t have done it without me.”

I stepped off the skateboard, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I approached Chris, a mixture of excitement and gratitude evident in my expression. Without a word, I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a tight hug.

“Thank you,” I murmured against his chest, my voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Suddenly, Chris picked me up into his arms, an unexpected move that left me laughing in surprise. He then hopped back onto the skateboard, placing me in front of him on the deck.

“Hang on tight,” he warned, his voice laced with mischief.

I laughed, clutching onto his forearms as he propelled us forward with skilled movements of his feet. The wind whipped through my hair and adrenaline coursed through my veins as he navigated the skatepark, expertly maneuvering around obstacles and even going over small ramps.

“This is crazy!” I exclaimed, my heart racing with both excitement and a hint of fear. Chris chuckled, tightening his grip around my waist. “Just enjoy the ride,” he replied, his voice filled with carefree confidence.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to fully immerse myself in the experience. The wind rushed past us, the hum of the wheels underneath us like a steady, thrumming heartbeat. The fear was there, lingering in the back of my mind, but it was overshadowed by the sense of freedom and happiness that came with trusting Chris and allowing myself to just be in the moment.

In a moment, the exhilarating ride took a sudden turn. A rock or pebble had gotten stuck between the wheels, causing the skateboard to jerk violently and send us both careening to the ground.

I heard Chris yell out “Shit!” as we toppled over, and he instinctively covered my head, protecting me from the brunt of the fall. We hit the ground with a hard thud, the skateboard clattering a few feet away from us.

I felt the impact as we hit the ground, the fall taking the wind out of me. Chris's body landed on top of mine, and I let out a small groan of surprise and pain.

For a moment, we lay there motionless, both stunned by the unexpected fall. Then, I felt Chris begin to chuckle against my shoulder, his body shaking slightly.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice filled with laughter and concern. He pushed himself up onto his forearms, looking down at me with a sheepish grin.

“That was a bit of a rough landing, huh?” I managed to croak out between deep breaths, my body starting to throb with the first signs of a forming bruise.

His laughter continued, the sound muffled as he buried his head back into my shoulder. I instinctively tangled my fingers into his hair, the feeling of his soft locks providing me some strange comfort amidst the pain and the laughter.

I joined in, the absurdity of the situation and the relief that we weren't seriously injured propelling me into a bout of laughter.

Chris lifted himself slightly, propping himself up on his forearms to hover above me. He was grinning, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of mirth and affection. As he spoke, the words coming out with a hint of smugness, I couldn't help but feel my heart skip a beat, my hands still buried in his silky hair.

“See? I told you I'd fall with you,” he teased, his voice filled with laughter.

“You always have to prove yourself right, huh?” I managed to say, my voice a bit breathless. My fingers traced a path from his hair down to his cheek, the touch soft yet intimate.

He chuckled again, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. He was so close, so tantalizingly near, and yet still just a breath's distance away.

“Of course I do,” he retorted, his gaze never leaving mine. “Can't let you doubt my words, after all.”

There was something in his eyes, a mixture of playfulness and something deeper that I couldn't quite put my finger on. My fingers lingered on his cheek, the heat of his skin against mine making it hard to think straight.

“You're insufferable,” I muttered, the words coming out as a tease, but my voice betraying the tenderness I felt.

His smile widened, his face so close now that I could feel his warm breath against my skin. My heart was racing, the proximity between us sending tingles down my spine. I could feel the tension, the almost magnetic pull drawing us closer together.

“But you like it,” he countered, a hint of slyness in his voice. His eyes flicked down to my lips, just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make my heart flutter.

I swallowed, the words stuck in my throat as I tried to come up with a witty retort. But the closeness, the way he looked at me, the warmth of his body just a tantalizing distance away, it was all too distracting.

The admission escaped my lips in a whisper that was barely audible, the words soft and filled with an honesty I couldn't hide.

“I do,” I confessed, my voice a mere breath of sound. “It's one of my favorite things about you.”

Before I could second-guess myself, I cupped the sides of his face, and gently pulled him closer until our lips met in a deep, passionate kiss.

His lips were soft, warm, and moved against mine with a familiar ease. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as I responded with equal fervor and need. The kiss was tender and hungry at the same time, a mixture of passion and longing spilling into our connection.

I could feel the heat spreading through me, my pulse racing and my heart skipping a beat with every second our lips touched. The world around us faded away, leaving only the sensation of him and me, our bodies fitted together in this stolen moment.

The kiss deepened, our mouths molding together in a perfect fit. His body shifted, and I felt him prop himself up a bit, bracing himself on one arm, his other hand coming to rest on the side of my neck. The change in position brought him even closer, our faces a mere breath apart.

I felt the heat of his body hovering just above mine, the press of his weight against me sending my senses into overdrive.

With a final, lingering nip at my lips, he pulled back, leaving me breathless and wanting more. He stayed close, his forehead pressing against mine, the intimacy of the gesture making my heart flutter. I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin, his face so close that I could count each individual freckle strewn across his nose.

A cheeky smile played on his lips, the kind that was both infuriating and endearing.

I was still reeling from the kiss, my brain struggling to catch up to the rollercoaster of emotions. I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze, and managed to ask, “What?”

He chuckled, the sound low and deep. “Never thought our first kiss would be us laying on a skatepark concrete floor after we just fell,” he replied, that same cheeky grin on his face.

His words sent a wave of amusement through me, and I laughed, shaking my head at his audacity. “Shut up,” I playfully berated him, my hand clenching on his shirt.

Without giving him a chance to retaliate, I pulled him back in, capturing his lips in another kiss, this one a mix of passion and playful irritation. My free hand came up to cradle his cheek, the touch both possessive and achingly affectionate.

He responded instantly, his lips moving against mine with a fervor that matched my own. His tongue teased the seam of my mouth, asking for entry, and I granted it without hesitation. The kiss was a battle and a union, a messy, heated exchange of feelings that was both familiar and new.

His fingers pressed into my skin, anchoring himself to me as if he was afraid I'd pull away too soon. The world faded away, leaving nothing but the heat of his body and the taste of his lips.

I lost myself in the kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair again, pulling him closer, wanting every inch of him near me. My body was aflame, a thousand tiny sparks dancing along my nerve endings. Each touch, each press of his lips, was a promise and a plea all in one.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that, drowning in each other, time ceasing to exist. But eventually, reluctantly, we had to break apart to gasp for air.

He pulled back slightly, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The flush on his cheeks mirrored my own, his lips still a touch swollen from our kiss.

As soon as we both caught our breath, he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion, “How about some ice cream right now?”

I nodded, a wide smile breaking across my face. The idea of ice cream seemed like the perfect cap to this whirlwind of a day.

Chris pushed himself up, a mischievous glint in his eye. Then, he held out a hand for me to take, offering to help me up.

I took his hand, feeling the strength and warmth in his grip. He pulled me up effortlessly, and I found myself stumbling into him as my legs, wobbly from the fall and the kiss, protested against bearing my weight.

He caught me, wrapping an arm around my waist to steady me. I chuckled, leaning into him, the intimacy of the moment making my heart flutter.

He chuckled at my wobbly attempt to stand and held me firmly against him. I clutched onto him, feeling the heat of his body against mine, a stark contrast to the cool air around us.

“C'mon,” he said, a hint of laughter still in his voice. “Let's get you some ice cream.” He grabbed his skateboard with one hand and held my hand with the other, intertwining our fingers together.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We ended up at a nearby ice cream parlor, the small, cozy interior providing a nice change from the skatepark. We settled into a booth, the soft, padded seats feeling luxurious after our hard fall.

Chris sat across from me, his skateboard propped up against the side of the booth, his foot tapping an erratic rhythm as he idly licked at his ice cream cone.

As he was lost in thought, he continued to absentmindedly lick away at his ice cream. And then, with a sudden jerk of his cone, a small drop of the cold treat landed right on the bridge of his nose.

I couldn't help but let out a laugh, the sight of him with ice cream on his nose both hilarious and ridiculously endearing. Without thinking, I reached across the table with a napkin and gently wiped the ice cream away.

He looked up at me when he felt the touch of the napkin on his face, a mix of surprise and amusement in his eyes. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“You had ice cream on your nose,” I replied, still chuckling. “You're such a messy eater.”

As I sat there, watching him, a wave of comfort and familiarity washed over me. Growing up with Chris meant that we’d shared countless moments and created endless memories together. Though our friendship had evolved, one thing remained constant — the ease and freedom I felt in his presence.

I realized how much I’d grown to love our time together, the way he could make me laugh or the way he always seemed to know exactly what I needed, even before I did. The words “best friend” didn't quite cover the depth of my feelings anymore.

I couldn't help but admire him — his messy hair, the twinkle in his eyes, and the carefree smile that always seemed to light up his face. He was more than just a friend now; he was someone who made my heart race, who inspired both laughter and frustration, who brought out emotions and feelings in me that I couldn’t deny.

All I wanted was to be next to him, to share more moments like these — simple, mundane, yet incredibly special. He made me feel safe, carefree, and so very alive.

I silently pondered to myself, realizing a profound truth — Chris had become my drug. It wasn't the kind of addiction that was dangerous or harmful, but a beautiful one that made me feel more alive than ever before.

His presence, his touch, his laugh, his everything — it was a high that I couldn't, and didn't want to, come down from. He was my vice, my solace, my source of happiness, and I craved him more with each passing day.

The thought of being without him, of not having him by my side, felt like an unbearable withdrawal. I didn't want to be cured of this drug, I wanted to be more addicted, more attached, to have our lives so intertwined that the thought of separation was simply unthinkable.

As I watched him casually lick the ice cream cone, totally oblivious to the depth of my thoughts, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was the best kind of drug. The kind that made life sweeter, brighter, and more vibrant than ever before. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The sweetness of the ice cream seemed to pale in comparison to the sugary rush he provided. My heart raced just looking at him, my gaze tracing over his features, each one so familiar yet still so captivating.

“Chris,” I murmured, not even realizing I'd spoken out loud until the single word slipped past my lips, like a prayer or a promise.

He looked up, eyebrows raised quizzically, a drop of melted ice cream hovering on his bottom lip. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice soft, yet laced with a hint of amusement.

I hesitated for a moment, the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat. How could I possibly explain the depths of what I was feeling? How could I put into words the mixture of happiness, fear, hope, and desire that he had awakened in me?

Finally, I sighed, settling back in my seat, knowing that I couldn’t yet tell him everything that was on my mind. “Nothing,” I said with a small smile. “Just enjoying the ice cream, that's all.”

He laughed at my response, a low, easy sound that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. He was so comfortable, so natural, and yet somehow he was still managing to make my heart flutter just by existing.

He leaned back, mirroring my pose, his eyes never leaving mine. “You sure about that?” he teased, his voice laced with skepticism.

I averted my gaze, my cheeks flushing under his observant eyes. He could always see right through me, even the things I didn't want him to see.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” I replied, my voice a bit too brisk. “Just enjoying the ice cream.” I took a large bite, as if to prove my point, hoping he wouldn't press any further.

He didn't reply immediately, letting the silence stretch between us as he observed me quietly. Even without looking at him, I could feel his gaze on me, intense and curious.

After a long beat, he chuckled, the sound as addictive as his presence. “You know, you were never a very good liar,” he finally pointed out, the statement both teasing and serious.

I groaned, the sound an admittance of defeat. He was right, of course. Lying to him, especially about something this monumental, was futile. He knew me too well, understood the way I moved, and could read my emotions like a book.

“Fine,” I relented, meeting his gaze once more. “It's not just the ice cream I'm enjoying.”

His eyes widened slightly at my confession, the surprise apparent in them for a brief moment before it was replaced by a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table, his focus zeroing in on me again. “What else are you enjoying, then?” he asked, his voice a little lower, more intimate.

I swallowed, my heart skipping a beat at his proximity. His question, the way he was looking at me now, it made it seem like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it anyway.

“You,” I said quietly, the word slipping out before I could stop it. “I'm enjoying you.”

His reaction was immediate and visceral. His eyes widened, the surprise evident in them before it was replaced by a look of pure, undisguised joy.

A slow, wide smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “Is that so?” he asked, his voice tinged with satisfaction and something else, something deeper that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I nodded, my courage growing with his reaction. Seeing him so happy, so clearly thrilled with my admission, made it easier to keep speaking my mind.

“Yes,” I confirmed, my own smile mirroring his. “You're the best part of my day, Chris. Always have been.”

He stared at me, the intensity of his gaze making me feel both vulnerable and safe at the same time. He seemed to be processing my words, each one sinking in and being stored away in his memory.

Finally, he spoke, his voice gruff but filled with a raw honesty that sent a shiver down my spine. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.

“I mean it,” I said, my voice quieter now, a little shaky. “You're everything I want, everything I need.”

The words hung between us, heavy with the truth they held. In that moment, I felt the weight of our history, the long years of friendship that had led to this point. He was my best friend, but he was also so much more.

He reached across the table, grabbing my hand in his, his fingers lacing through mine. His grip was firm, but it was also warm, his thumb rubbing small, gentle circles over the back of my hand.

He didn't speak for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought, before he finally murmured, “I think I need you more than you need me.”

The simple declaration pierced my heart, my breath catching in my throat. It was as if he had seen straight into my soul and was now reading my unspoken thoughts out loud.

“That's not true,” I protested, my voice a mere whisper. “It's me who needs you.”

I tightened my grip on his hand, needing the physical touch to ground me. My heart was beating wildly in my chest, each thump a reminder of the emotions coursing through me.

“You've done so much for me,” I said, my voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “You've helped me more than you know. My mind, Chris...it's always been filled with you.”

He looked at me, his eyes studying my expression intently. I could see the disbelief and disbelief warring within him, as if he was struggling to believe what he was hearing.

“Always?” he echoed, the word coming out almost reverently. “You've always thought about me?”

I nodded, the confession spilling out of me now. “Always,” I whispered, my voice a little shakier. “Whenever things go wrong, when I need an escape, you're the first thing — the only thing — I think of. It's always been you.”

His eyes widened at my words, the gravity of them seemingly sinking in. I could see the emotions flickering across his face — shock, surprise, happiness, but also a hint of guilt.

“I had no idea,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn't know I meant so much to you.”

He chuckled, a bitter, self-deprecating sound. “I’m just a dumb skater with no future,” he echoed, his voice low and laced with a hint of insecurity.

I instantly shook my head, my grip on his hand strengthening. “No,” I said firmly, my tone unyielding. “You're so much more than that, Chris. You're a life saver, someone who's always been there for me no matter what.”

I could see the doubt in his eyes, as if he still couldn't quite believe me. He was so used to thinking of himself, to dismissing his own value.

“I'm serious,” I pressed on, refusing to let him undermine his own worth. “You might think you're just a skater, but you're my best friend, my rock, the one person I can always count on. That's worth more than any future or career.”

He was silent for a moment, seeming lost in thought. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, as if he was processing my words and trying to accept them.

Finally, he sighed, his gaze meeting mine once more. “You make me sound like a superhero or something,” he joked, though his voice still held a note of vulnerability.

I let out a soft, amused chuckle. “Not a superhero,” I corrected, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Just a regular guy who's too stubborn to accept how important he is.”

Chris let out a soft, amused chuckle. “Alright, alright,” he said, his tone lighthearted but carrying a note of seriousness. “Let’s get you back home. You gotta start packing”

I nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that our time together was coming to an end. But I knew he was right — it was getting late, and I had a lot to do before tomorrow.

I started to slide out of the booth, my legs a little wobbly from the emotional roller coaster of the evening.

We exited the ice cream parlor, the cool night air hitting us like a wave. Chris held the door open for me, his hand resting on the small of my back us he guided me outside.

The walk back to my house was quiet, the only sound in the deserted street the soft crunch of gravel under our feet. We didn't speak, the silence between us comfortable and familiar.

Every now and then, I would steal a glance at Chris. He seemed lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the darkened street ahead. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but I knew better than to interrupt his musing.

Instead, I focused on the closeness between us — the way his fingers occasionally brushed against my arm, the way his shoulder would graze mine as we walked. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes.

As we drew closer to my house, the silence broke as Chris spoke, his voice soft in the quiet night. “You nervous about tomorrow?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes full of concern.

I nodded, a wave of anxiety suddenly washing over me. The thought of my parents' reaction had been lingering in the back of my mind all evening, but I hadn't allowed myself to dwell on it too much.

“Yeah,” I admitted, my voice a little shaky. “I'm just worried about what they'll say.”

Chris stopped walking, causing me to halt as well. He turned to face me, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light.

“You know, you don't have to do everything your parents want,” he said, his voice firm. “You're old enough to make your own choices. You don't deserve to live in a household that makes you unhappy.”

I stared at him, his words hitting me hard. He was echoing a thought that had been forming in the back of my mind for so long, but I had never allowed myself to acknowledge it, let alone act on it.

“I know…but they're my parents,” I protested, the words sounding weak even to my ears.

He let out a huff of frustration. “Just because they're your parents doesn't mean they get to control your life,” he retorted, his voice a little sharper now. “If they don't care about your happiness, then why should you care about their opinions?”

His words stung but also awakened something within me. I was so used to living my life according to my parents' expectations, trying to please them, that I had almost forgotten about my own happiness.

He must have seen the doubt in my eyes, because his expression softened as he continued. “You deserve to be happy, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle now. “You don't have to sacrifice your dreams and desires for someone else's vision of your life.”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between us. “Come on,” he urged, his voice low and earnest. “Move in with us. You'll see how it feels to be free, to make your own choices and create your own happiness.”

I stared at his outstretched hand, my heart racing in my chest. This was it — a choice, a decision that would change everything. I took a deep breath, steeling my courage, before reaching out and placing my hand in his.

The moment our fingers touched, a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between us. It was a silent agreement, a pact sealed with a simple gesture.

I was choosing my own happiness, choosing him.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, our hands still intertwined. The quiet of the night was interrupted only by the soft crunch of gravel under our feet and the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

I stole a glance at Chris, who was staring straight ahead, his profile illuminated by the dim moonlight. His face was set in a serious expression, but his grip on my hand was warm and firm, a silent reassurance that I wasn't alone in this.

We stopped in front of my porch, the light from the house casting a soft golden glow on our faces. Chris turned to me, his eyes meeting mine in the semi-darkness.

“I'll be here in the morning with Matt,” he said, his voice a whisper. “Just pack some clothes and whatever you need. We can go shopping for whatever you’re missing.”

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. This was really happening.

He leaned down, his hand moving behind my back to pull me closer. Our eyes met, a silent moment of connection, before he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine in a soft, chaste kiss.

My hand came up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. I let the moment stretch on, savoring the feeling of his body pressed against mine.

Chris stepped back, giving me one last, lingering look before he turned and made his way down the street.

I watched him go for a moment, the sound of his skateboard wheels against the pavement echoing in the quiet night air. Then I turned and quietly made my way inside, my mind already racing.

With a sense of determination, I headed straight upstairs to my room, focusing on the task at hand. Packing.

➤ A/N: Long story sorry!! (took me 4 days to finish)

➤ TAGS: @st6rify ✮⋆˙ @jetaimevous ✮⋆˙ @certifiedstarrr ✮⋆˙ @slvtf0rchr1s ✮⋆˙

── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃 | PART 2 HERE ! <soon

[aspergerasparagus]

What would your take be if the contestant swapped with Frankie? Like Frankie became a sentient little robot in a (gruesome) AI learning program (the robots feel pain like in portal) and contestant just watches over it, and toon version would be apart of like an instruction video? (I don't have any ideas on monster and I just wanted to share an au I had cooking up in my head)

Had a crack at the concept myself. Have Real Frankie being an AI unit meant to act as a family companion and protector, Toon would act as a companion software for the workers (think like Rambley), monster was previously failed unit would have attacked and injured Lucky before giving him a distrust of the AI's but now kinda acts as a ghost in the machine infecting other units when it can and finally Lucky is the training facilities overseer. Not everything is explored here but just my ideas with where the concept could go.

Frankie had come online a few months ago, well 3 months 16 days and 7 hours ago to be precise. He’d already been aware of his purpose from the moment his optics came online, to be trained as a functional AI companion and a protector to his owners. That was the theory at least as he was still in beta testing, him and a number of identical copies of himself. There were 17 of them in total, of course it had been 30 when they’d first started but some… hadn’t made the cut. They were constantly run through heavy testing to make sure no “errors” would occur in their programming, that they’d be able to carry out their objective without question and be completely subservient to their owners.

This obedience was enforced via the pain receptors the robots had installed in them. Forcing them to obey or they would receive an ever increasingly painful shock until they either gave in or expired, whichever came earlier. Frankie himself had only been on the end of such a shock once, and once was enough to get the message through. Sighing he glanced up from where he was charging to look at the control room situated at the far end of the room. The humans were working there, the engineers, the programers and of course the overseer, the man in charge of this little program. 

Frankie didn’t know what to make of them. He rarely spoke to them directly, only relaying commands over the tannoy system and was the one to deliver out punishments for insubordination, but other than that he really didn’t know much about them. The rabbit did think about what type of man would willingly agree to be a part of this. Was he cruel and enjoyed the sight of the AI’s in pain? Was he money driven and willing to step over anyone to get what he wanted? Or maybe he was just a tired pencil pusher just trying to get the job done so he could clock off. Frankie wished he could know, at least put a face to the voice that called out every morning over the speakers.

It was then he heard a familiar voice calling out, his ears immediately perking up. The overseer was on the shop floor? That was new. Quickly going limp he made himself look like he was charging like the other Frankie’s as he heard their voice getting closer, relaying instructions to another worker.

“Well testing seems to be going fine, none have had any glitches in their programming yet which is a good sign. We might be able to move onto the final phase by the end of the week so that’ll make the pricks up stairs happy for once…” Ah so he wasn’t a fan of the higher ups that was nice to know. Keeping still, Frankie finally saw the man come into view, his head twisted away as he continued to talk to the engineer, only letting Frankie see the bloom of messy brown blonde hair that concealed the rest of his face. Frankie wished he would turn around just slightly so he could get a proper look, I mean he had what he assumed would be a nice arse but he wasn’t really interested in that, he wanted to put a face to the voice he heard everyday.

Just as he was cursing his luck he heard a creak from beside him, looking out the corner of his eye he spotted one of the other units craning its neck towards the humans, studying them. Frankie’s programming immediately kicked in as he realised what the other unit was planning on doing.

“Look out!” Frankie barely had time to react before the other Frankie launched forward aiming directly at the humans who barely had time to whip their heads around. It was lucky that Frankie had already seen what was happening as he leapt forwards, crashing into the other unit sending it careening into the floor with an angry hiss, its limbs extending as it tried to correct itself. Letting out an inhuman screech it lashed out, its arms smashing into the engineer sending them flying across the room while the overseer scarcely dodged the other one, instead falling to the ground as he attempted to call for security. 

They wouldn’t arrive in time as the other Frankie unit shot after him on all fours, screaming in fury as he lunged at him only to receive a swift punch to the face sending it tumbling into a pile at the other end of the room. Frankie stood between them and the overseer, a low growl slipping out through his teeth.

“Don’t touch him.” His program was on high alert, screaming at him to protect the overseer at all cost, even if it resulted in injury. He just had to keep the man safe. As he watched the other unit start to right itself, its teeth now a broken mess of jagged metal, he quickly spun around and snatched the stunned man off the floor, pulling them close to his chest as he bolted to the other end of the service room. He could feel their heart jackhammering away in their chest as they wrapped their arms around him, clinging to him for dear life. This made something in Frankie’s chest flip. Oh, that was a new feeling. But he quickly shook his head to dispel the thought, it wasn’t the time for that, he had to get the overseer somewhere safe.

However his thoughts were cut off as he was tackled from behind, knocking him off balance as he dropped the man. He heard them yelp in pain as they hit the floor hard as they rolled off towards the side. Frankie needed to get to them but he had to deal with the other unit as began to snap at his head and neck, aiming at trying to take him out. Roaring out in anger, Frankie managed to get a hold of the unit as it attempted to sink its teeth into his head, holding onto its mouth, the shards of what remained of its teeth sank into his fingers and palms, sending red hot pain through his body. But he pushed through it, refusing to let this monster get its hands on his human as he with another scream tore the unit's mouth open, oil spilling out onto him as it gargled helplessly. It feebly reached for what remained of its mouth before collapsing to the side of him, twitching slightly as it finally went offline.

Frankie just lay there for a moment processing what had happened until he heard the overseer groan. His snapped around at the sound as he saw them slowly picking themselves off the ground, clutching at their head. Scrambling to his feet the rabbit made his way over, scooping the man up to his chest before they had a chance to get to their feet.

“Sir are you alright? Nothing broken? I-I um…” Frankie found himself trailing off as the overseer finally met his gaze, their tired looking brown eyes finally meeting him as he got a look at their face for the first time. Oh, so that’s what they look like. He barely noticed as the security team finally burst in, guns raised on him.

“Don’t! Don’t, it wasn’t this unit! The threat has been dealt with, put down the guns you morons!” The man in his arms frantically waved at them to lower their guns as the rabbit continued to inspect him. Without knowing really why Frankie leant down burying his face against the overseer's neck, a soft purr escaping him.

“Um Lucky, is that normal…?” Lucky? His name was Lucky? Oh what a funny little name for his human. He continued to purr gently as he felt Lucky trying to squirm out of his grip, the man cursing and blushing as he tried to shove the rabbit’s face away, alas with little success. Finally he just groaned and gave in as the other engineers joined them, them all looking sheepishly at their boss.

“Sir, I think that unit might have-”

“I know it’s bloody imprinted! Now shut up and get it to let go of me! And don’t you dare tell the higher ups I am not being responsible for this unit! And stop nuzzling me!” Frankie only purred louder as he grinned to himself. Did this mean Lucky was his new owner? How exciting!

[wintersera]

I just dropped from masters to diamond in Overwatch ranked and I’m gonna cry but besides that

I been thinking of like shy g!p gym rat kazuha that like you go to the gym with her one time and someone is flirting with you in front of her and she just gets mad and fucks you like I have one of the biggest crushes in this girl man

-🐈‍⬛

cw: public sex, g!p kazuha, oral (giving)

anon… please carry me 😭 i used to be hard stuck gold back in ow1. good luck if you’re tryna climb back uo to master!!

but anyways YES shy g!p gym rat zuha you say?? ouhh girly invited you to go to the gym one day with her bc yk workouts RAAAHH💪 GAINS💪💪 jokes-😭 its more of a poor excuse to get you to wear gym clothes (the ones where you can SEE 👀 everything) and its also another poor excuse to get you to see her abs and biceps 🤤

well zuha is,, shy and doesn’t know how to talk to women correctly, even you 😭 yeah you guys are friends and she sees you in a non friend way partner like ooooh she has a crush on youuu 🤭 like she doesn’t even know why you stick around with her bc she doesn’t really talk that much, only bc she doesn’t know what exactly to say to you.

anywayss,,, you two were just doing regular gym stuff. you trying to bench press at least more than you usually do and zuha is spotting you like the good gym rat she is :)) and then a random man had the audacity to talk to you while you were lifting heavy ass weights?? LIKE MOOOVEE?;!;?:??;

“hey cutie, do you want me to help you? those seem too heavy for your pretty hands to hold?”

oh man,, zuha had never felt this pissed off before- like she was getting bolddd,, all that shyness she once had leaves her body as soon as that man opened his mouth.

mhmhm yk where this is going,, had to shove that man away from the bench, like fr shove him tf away 😭😭 she’s strong as hell so she had no issues with pushing a guy out the way- anwyays after she did all that, she grabbed your hand and dragged you to the changing rooms :)) as she was feeling extra bold today she wanted to yk relieve some of the tension AND there’s definitely gonna be some tension relieving 🤭

you noticed her bulge showing through her compression pants (bc she’s simply just that big 🤤) and being the good friend you are, you ask to suck her off? now normally shy zuha would say something like “ah- no it’s okay you don’t have to” :<< BUT SHE WAS FEELING PISSED,, accepting your offer bc she needed to feel less stressed abt the situation-

already ready to get cock sucked, she’s lifting your hair up in a makeshift ponytail, pulling you closer and closer to herd bulge,, you sliding down her sweatpants and her compression pants her cock springs up and hits the side of your face 😳😳

makes you deepthroat her so quickly that i catches you wayyyy off guard. zuha head pusher fr!! like she’s so caught up in the pleasure that she doesn’t realise she’s moving her hands on there own,, having two hands on your head moving it to her will AUGH ZUHAAA?:!/: doesn’t even give you time to breath, her mind thinking of cumming all over your pretty face.

cock twitching in you mouth, her legs starting to shake- ouuhh she was close to cumming. now mind you, you’re in a PUBLIC changing room with those stalls. zuha, on the verge of cumming, bites her lip as continues to rock her hips into your mouth. feeling your hot tongue on the base of her cock, she lets her senses wash over her body- muffled moans as she’s making sure no one could hear her cum,, finally letting go of your head once she’s poured out all her semen down your throat :))

—

a/n: this isn’t proofread yet- it’s 5am and i’m about to snooze i’ll edit it it when i wake up 😭

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

juni's x files liveblog masterpost (s1-s3)

for those who love organization, you are in luck! here is a link to my thoughts on (almost) every single episode of the x files from seasons 1 through 3. i hope this is helpful for those who are new to my blog, want to relive certain moments, are watching along at their own pace, or any other sort of person who is interested. i'll be adding a link to this post to my pinned for convenience.

reminder that my first few thoughts were much shorter than my current ones, and they were posted on my main account. i even skipped note-taking on episode 2! i'll have to go back and rewatch someday. also, if an episode past the first few feels skipped over, it's probably because it featured content i felt uncomfy discussing in detail. you can read the post where i explained that choice here.

if you want to find my thoughts on episodes from season 4 and beyond, click here to find the next part of the masterlist!

season 1:

1x01 Pilot

1x03 Squeeze

1x04 Conduit

1x05 Jersey Devil

1x06 Shadows

1x07 Ghost in the Machine

1x08 Ice

1x09 Space

1x10 Fallen Angel

1x11 Eve

1x12 Fire

1x13 Beyond the Sea

1x14 Genderbender

1x15 Lazarus

1x16 Young at Heart

1x17 E.B.E.

1x18 Miracle Man

1x19 Shapes

1x20 Darkness Falls

1x21 Tooms

1x22 Born Again

1x23 Roland

1x24 Erlenmeyer Flask

favorite scully moments + things we learn about scully in s1

favorite mulder moments + things we learn about mulder in s1

favorite duo moments

season 2:

2x01 Little Green Men

2x02 The Host

2x03 Blood

2x04 Sleepless

2x05 Duane Barry

2x06 Ascension

2x07 3

2x08 One Breath

2x09 Firewalker

2x10 Red Museum

2x11 Excelsis Dei

2x12 Aubrey

2x13 Irresistible

2x14 Die Hand Die Verletzt

2x15 Fresh Bones

2x16 Colony

2x17 End Game

2x18 Fearful Symmetry

2x19 Død Kalm

2x20 Humbug

2x21 Calusari

2x22 F. Emasculata

2x23 Soft Light

2x24 Our Town

2x25 Anasazi

favorite scully moments

favorite mulder moments

favorite duo moments

season 3:

3x01 The Blessing Way

3x02 Paper Clip

3x03 D.P.O.

3x04 Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose

3x05 The List

3x06 2Shy

3x07 The Walk

3x08 Oubliette

3x09 Nisei

3x10 731

3x11 Revelations

3x12 War of the Coprophages

3x13 Syzygy

3x14 Grotesque

3x15 Piper Maru

3x16 Apocrypha

3x17 Pusher

3x18 Teso Dos Bichos

3x19 Hell Money

3x20 Jose Chung from Outer Space

3x21 Avatar

3x22 Quagmire

3x23 Wetwired

3x24 Talitha Cumi

favorite scully moments

favorite mulder moments

favorite duo moments

[kazswraith]

If you're bad odds then I'm a luck-pusher

- FINNEAS

[critter-genfic-events]

Fjord: A Critter Gen-fic Rec List

This week, we have seven fics focusing on our favorite sea-faring paladin, Fjord! From his early days as a gangly ship hand to the charismatic captain facing down a demi-god, this list has it all. Check them out beneath the cut, and remember to comment and kudos if you like them!

Shelter by Demenior (30269,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:Caduceus Clay & Fjord, Fjord & The Mighty Nein

Fjord is called to action by the Wildmother. Caduceus is supportive. The Nein have to admit they still aren't good with kids.

Reccer says: There's a lot of focus on Fjord's friendship with the rest of the Nein, great characterization, and some great kids

cabin fever by justlikeswitchblades (3032,General) Warnings: suicial ideation and filing down teeth as self harm Pairings: Fjord & Vandran

Fjord doesn't like staying in Port Damali. Vandran notices his restlessness and talks to him about it.

Reccer says: I liked it

Troubled Water by CitizenMocha (1327,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Fjord & Melora the Wildmother (Critical Role), Fjord/Jester Lavorre

With/in spite of most of the Mighty Nein gathered in their new home, Fjord takes a little time to himself to try and reconnect with the Wildmother.

Reccer says: Fjord deserves a little breakdown during the Mighty Nein Uk'otoa fight. As a treat. (it's also painful and very well described)

Fjord's Very Best Day by enemytosleep (3902,Teen) Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Pairings:

A disastrous storm, a deep betrayal, and an unexpected stroke of luck: Fjord has had a very busy night, and now, a very wild day.

Reccer says: Fjord makes some interesting choices after washing up to shore, and this fic does a great job exploring them - along with having some wonderfully evocative language

Numb My Lungs in the Salt Air, Let The Breakers Heal My Bones by thetickingclock (1481,Teen) Warnings: Major Character Death, Grief/Mourning Pairings: Fjord & Caduceus, Fjord/Jester

The complicated relationship between Fjord and the ocean.

Reccer says: I liked it

Let the Current Take Me by Essek wants some peace and quiet and Fjord tries to pay forward a kindness (4424,Teen) Warnings: brief discussion of suicide Pairings: Fjord & Essek Thelyss

Essek wants some peace and quiet and Fjord tries to pay forward a kindness

Reccer says: Essek and Fjord have a great chemistry together - both are understated button pushers, and as the fic says, they can speak 'liar to liar'. This fic is a great demonstration of that

oh, the things you can hide under a corset (yourself, for one) by mx_mythical (1292,General) Warnings: usage of she/her for Fjord before he figures out he's trans, fantasy racism Pairings:

A study of transmasc Fjord, growing up

Reccer says: Fjord is all about performing masculinity and learning how to be comfortable as yourself, so it makes so much sense to see a trans take on him

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be focusing on Mentorship! We are also switching to our twice a month schedule, so you can expect to see the Mentorship rec list on July 15th, followed by the Scanlan focused rec list on August 1st!

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

Oh! Also! Critter Gen Week is happening! We've been using the themes for our reclist - so if you're inspired by what you're reading, consider writing (or making art) for that week!

[orbitswritings]

human!jake sully/fem!human reader Neteyam fic is still in works, I just wanted to take a break and push myself to quickly write something in a few hours without worrying about beta readers. so here’s something really self-indulgent that i had kicking around in my brain. let me know if i should continue (i mean i do want to i just like hearing other people say it) synopsis: reader works as a pencil pusher for the RDA and finds herself in a relationship with human!Jake Sully. Their relationship is on the rocks when Jake suddenly becomes a traitor for the Na’vi, forgetting about reader. unfortunately, she’s left in a position where she cannot forget about him.

(feat. Jake the dog and reader the human) c/w warning: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smut. and jake’s kinda an asshole for now

The last time you saw Jake was right before he turned traitor.

His visits with you were already getting more and more spared, spaced out as the months went on. In the beginning of his deployment to Pandora you two were nearly inseparable, literally, wrapped in a tangled mess of blankets in your private quarters.

You were just a pencil-pusher and file manager, tasked with handling the never-ending information and data from several departments of the RDA. One day when delivering a stack of legal papers to the lead scientist Grace, the man seated in a wheelchair next to her, named Jake Sully, took an immediate interest. You did as well, although yours was more based on wanting to know why a buff marine guy in a wheelchair was doing around the other nerdy scientists. Jake’s was more coming from below the belt.

One night while laying in bed together after a session of sex, your hand aimlessly began running up and down his arms. His biceps used to be the size of your head, now he looked frail, malnourished. His body was practically wasting away. Jake now had been at least two months into his whole Na’vi thing. Yet you didn’t know any details since he was pretty tight-lipped about it all.

“Are you getting enough rest? Do you eat enough?” You asked with concern, stroking the hair out of his sweaty face. Jake had initially arrived on Pandora with the traditional military buzzcut, but now his hair had grown out, further adding to his ragged, disheveled appearance. “If not, I can write up a document for the food storage guys to give mor-” Jake just shrugged you off, turning away from you with a grunt of “mh fine.”

You’d later realize Jake was just using you to empty out all the cum and sexual frustration he would build up while gone. Word among the staff was the female Na’vi he’d been frolicking around with over the course of the few months was proving to be a tease. Unable to stomach thinking about what he was getting up to, you instead threw yourself into your work, trying to ignore the horrendous thoughts that clouded your mind.

You wish you had the guts to confront him on what would ultimately end up being your last night together, but you were just too lonely and so happy to see him after such a long time apart that you kept your mouth shut and legs open. All to just save the moment. Next time, though, you told yourself you would confront him.

That next time never came. In that time Jake Sully and his crew knocked over the chess board, turned traitor and proceeded to fuck over everyone. The plug on the whole operation was pulled, sending everyone packing onto their ships. Well, everyone except a few of his other human allies . . . . and you.

Not that he specifically asked for you to stay on Pandora. In fact you were sure he never even gave you a thought. What happened was when all the humans were being rounded up, you managed to slip off, going into hiding. There was a small, abandoned outpost, its existence having falling out of everyone else’s minds except yours, only being known by you due to your various dealings with files. It was similar to the one Jake and his gang had been stationed to in the Himalayan mountains, difference being luck for you it was within a day of hiking distance. There, you had everything you needed (for the time being). Filtered air, canned foods, jugs of water.

But why not go with the other humans? Being put into a tube of jelly for another five years and sent back to a dying planet with your sizable paycheck waiting for you in the mail was still miles better than sitting alone in some rundown old trailer on an alien planet where everything and anything can and will kill you, all the while slowly picking away at your limited rations.

It was simple. You weren’t alone, and your growing waistline was ever so slowly revealing it. Apparently the very last time you and Jake saw each other he was kind enough to leave you with a little going away gift, entirely unbeknownst to the either of you. The cheap condoms the company supplied did have an expiration date wasn’t to be taken lightly, but Jake had been out playing Na’vi for so long he completely forgot to grab new ones.

It was a hard rule that babies couldn’t be put in cryo, and being pregnant while in cryo lacked a lot of research for any factual statements but generally it was advised to avoid it. At that point you weren’t far along at all so either you were going to be tubed, putting both you and your baby at risk, or be forced to terminate.

Of course Jake couldn’t help you. He was too busy playing blue outlaw cowboy, rounding up the remaining RDA humans to ship them back to Earth.

But now, supplies were running low, and you knew this whole ‘pregnant while solo’ thing wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. Carrying was already hard enough. Giving birth alone was more of a horror movie plot than something you actually wanted to try out for yourself. So, you made the decision to finally bite the bullet, hook up the radio, and put out a signal to the other remaining scientists.

That same night you got a response back, the scientists on the other end both very surprised that another human was still on Pandora. They already knew you and so conclude you weren’t a die-hard RDA fan, making you not a threat to their operation. In the end, a helicopter was sent your way.

You were so grateful and relieved they agreed to come get you, you just wished they had told you Norm was going to be in his avatar form when picking you up. You nearly pissed your pants from the shock and blood-chilling fear that coursed through you when a gigantic blue alien suddenly appeared, peeking through your window.

The bump of your stomach acted as an elephant in the room, everyone on the helicopter doing their best to avoid looking directly at it as if doing so would cause permanent vision damage.

It wasn’t like they knew it was Jake’s, believing you two had ended your little fling long before the possible frame of conception, so that awkward topic was luckily avoided. Of course not all hard topics were off limits. They still asked you why you were here on Pandora, the unsubtle hint being they thought they had successfully chased out all the other dirty greedy humans from their prized forest playground. You were honest and gave them your reasoning, hoping it would squash any fears of other RDA agents lurking out there. They nodded in quiet understanding. You wanted to ask about Jake, how he was, but the fear of it possibly raising any sort of questions made you bite your tongue.

[cerastes]

I'm going through the IS3 VODs and, first of all, huge props to you for somehow managing to get clears or almost clearing with the absolute garbage luck the game gives you sometimes, and secondly, I was watching with my girlfriend and she said "so this is the power of a Gladiia gamer" and when I asked her what she meant by that (she's better at arknights than me) she said that a lot of people will just use her as a guard, but that the way you were using her as a specialist was the reason you managed to save so many seemingly hopeless maps, and it kind of opened our minds to the power of shifting even when there's no holes.

THANKS.

Yeah so the thing with Shifting is that it has a lot, a lot of applications beyond funny circumstantial one hit kill memes with holes. The ability to modify enemy speed or trajectory in a game where the main threat is enemy positioning relative to yours and enemy numbers relative to your ability to clear lanes (this last being a congregation of different factors, such as bulk, block, healing, damage, kill time, upkeep, and other factors) is very powerful. It also tends to be hard to make use of it: In the early game, Push Strokers Pushers were easier to use since they have AoE attacks akin to Centurions (albeit only 2 block), enemy damage was low for the most part, and since you put them near your team, it was easy to keep them alive (since people used them as Cheaper Guards). Pullers, however, had a hard time because you had to dedicate an extra healer to keeping them alive out there where it makes sense to place them, from the tons of ranged enemies the early game likes to send out, and that's 2 deployment slots you could just use for two more Caster or Snipers, right?

Gladiia is the perfect Puller because of the way the way the game has evolved, but mainly, because she simply does not have to deal with the weaknesses of the class: Like all Abyssal Hunters, she has an unnaturally bulky statline allowing her to take punishment, she has a native regen, she has charges on her S1, she has a double pull with 3x3 tiles of range in front of her with great upkeep with her S2, she has a crowd control mininuke option with S3, a talent that gives her a hefty damage increase against most enemies in the game, and one of the single most broken if not the most broken Module in the game that gives her an unconditional 30% damage reduction against everything except True Damage and that amps up her regen even further.

You can put Gladiia anywhere and she will simply not die unless it's some truly heavy duty enemy.

Shifting, additionally, interrupt the enemy attack if they are winding up for it. It's a great pseudo-Stun! Plus, if you are Shifting an enemy not in a direct line towards their routing, they WILL go back and realign. This means that if you shift an enemy diagonally towards where they are going, they will then turn back to the point where they got shifted and then start moving forward again. This is very useful to stall enemies when the map allows for it, especially with her S2 since it allows for a lot of consecutive pulls.

There's so much that makes Gladiia an insane unit, and that's without going into her synergies with the other Hunters. Specialists are built different, Specialist Hunters moreso.