#make sure your original content is backed up elsewhere

[bluesidez]

[The Ideal Gaze]

lab tester: @ichigosluvrr 🩻

pairing: DadBod!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel is feeling a bit out of your league, so you remind him that he’s just in your lane. 

content warning: established relationship (they’re married with kids!), domestic fluff, mild hurt/comfort due to Miguel being an idiot that does not understand The Female Gaze, some miscommunication between reader and Miguel, 18+ so MDNI, a little raunchier than I intended tbh but hopefully I presented DB!Mig well, body worship, heated tension, reader is like obsessed with Miguel’s new Dad Bod, deepthroat 😗, missionary position, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), the word Ma as a term of endearment from Miguel to reader two times

word count: 5.3k, halfway proofread

a/n: Fulfilling this first because this was technically my first request! I added a few more elements (thank you Miguel server!), so I hope you don’t mind. There were no specific requests other than fluff and smut, so I went with the flow. I hope you enjoy! (Also, I found the original artist's post here!! Go give them some love!)

Your blood is pumping as you round the corner, only a few more steps until you reach the driveway. 

The jog today was pretty refreshing. There were no calls from work asking about things that could wait until 8 AM, no toddler fussing about waking up, and no child whining about getting homework done. It was just you, your FitBit, your steamy audiobook, and the lingering thoughts of meeting your husband’s eyes this morning. Lately, it’s been like a little game to rile him up. 

You’ve been married for a few years and a family of four for seven years with a sweet little girl, a second grader with the attitude of an old lady, and a precious little boy, a preschooler with keen intuition. With your lives being consumed with work and taking care of the kids, you feel like your relationship has been put on the back burner. Long gone were the days in which you two made love at the drop of a hat, fucking on anything that could hold you. Now, you were lucky enough to get a little dry humping.

It was getting depressing, and more annoyingly, frustrating, so you started to put your riled-up energy elsewhere. You were up at the crack of dawn making everyone’s lunches and going on occasional jogs, you were using your PTO for brunches with the girls and spa days, you had regular pilates classes, the real pilates, and most importantly, you were finding small pockets of time for yourself. 

From buying yourself small gifts to filling your Kindle with romance books to pleasuring yourself on the nights Miguel worked overtime. You were sure to keep yourself busy. All of that, and you still couldn’t get the thought of Miguel entangled with you out of your head. 

You heaved out as you stopped at the end of the driveway, taking a few breaths to calm your state. The book you were listening to was on a particularly enthralling scene and you wondered if it was something that Miguel would be interested in trying. 

You looked down at yourself and decided to unzip the top of your athletic jacket, letting the tightness of your bra and the fabric push your cleavage up. One smooth swipe of your clothes and you were walking to the front door. 

It was 6:40 AM, so there was plenty of time to have a little quiet moment with your husband. 

You walked into the kitchen and saw him standing in all of his glory. A newspaper in his left hand, because some things didn’t need to be digitized, a “Best Papá Ever” mug in his right hand, black glasses on his face, and your favorite thing, a naked plush torso on display. 

In the first years of parenthood, his metabolism was through the roof. Despite him joining you for every snack, meal, and midnight dessert, he never lost that tiny little waist or those washboard abs. It wasn’t until your youngest was born and babbling that his appearance started to change. His arms became a mix of muscle and cellulite, his thighs were softer than ever, his chest was full and plump, and his waist widened gifting you with his soft belly and a happy trail that continued to his belly button. 

The early time didn’t stop the coil of neediness in your stomach from forming. 

“Good morning, hubby,” you say with a lilt to your voice. You walked closer to him, an extra bounce in your step, and leaned on the island. 

Sure enough, Miguel was peeking at your chest from over his glasses, mug hovering over his lips. 

You only smiled coyly, waiting for his response. 

“Good morning. How was your jog?” he puts the newspaper and mug down, folding his arms under his chest. 

You stared at his bulging arms, pressed-up pecs, and his tummy that moved with him and almost whined. 

“It was really good. Super nice and refreshing. Maybe a little warm,” you crossed your legs, impatient. “How’s your morning so far?”

“It’s better,” he says, making the short distance to crowd your space. He leans over you, hands going to the island. “My wife is here now.”

You smile at his words, hands itching to touch him but not wanting to ruin the stride. Instead, you look up at him and pan his lips. 

“I’m feeling better, too,” you whisper, waiting. 

Miguel leans forward to press his lips onto yours, the smell of coffee hitting your senses. You feel little fireworks go off as he starts to open your mouth. Everything felt just right in this moment. 

When his hand slid across your back, you almost jumped up to wrap your legs around him. You tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. You could feel yourself slipping against the counter, but Miguel was right there to steady you. 

For what felt like hours to you after so long of a heated connection, the two of you made out on the kitchen island. Only some birds chirping, the occasional car passing by, and the hum of the washing machine could be heard next to the sound of you both breathing into each other’s lips

“Come with me to the shower?” you say, eyes heavy and pleading. 

You could feel Miguel tense up, back rigid as he moved back. 

“I better stay. Raul might wake up soon and he was having a hard time sleeping last night.”

Your heart dropped at the rejection. You were hoping that this would be the one, the moment that you’ve been anticipating for months. Some form of sexual connection. 

“Ok. I’ll be out soon,” you turn and go to the master bathroom, tugging the zipper down hastily. You felt a bit dejected and embarrassed, but you’re trying to let it go. Your mommy side knows that your youngest woke up in distress last night so it makes perfect sense that Miguel wants to be alert for his cries, but your wife side wants her husband back and can’t help but feel like he didn’t want you. 

With this brisk shower, you hoped this self-doubt and neediness washed away with it. 

You tapped your fingers against the desk, staring off at your computer. Work today was slow, which you didn’t mind because that meant you could frequent your watchlist, but your mind kept wandering off while watching some random K-drama. 

Last night, you woke up to what sounded like Miguel getting off in the bathroom. 

He got off work super late that day, so you took the initiative to get the kids to bed and go to bed early. 

What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the sound of his grunts coming through the bathroom door. 

At first, you were a little hurt that he didn’t wake you up to help him out, but then you were so overcome by the sound of him whimpering and moaning that you couldn’t help but pleasure yourself. 

He sounded so desperate and wanton, cursing every once in a while. You bit your lip as you imagined him right next to you, voice right in your ear. You wanted his weight on you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours. 

You lay in the empty bed rubbing yourself until you came, his noises stopping a while before you finished. You were hoping he would come out and see you so you prolong your orgasm to no avail, sleep coming to claim you before he did. 

When you tried to ask him about it in the morning, he kept avoiding your eyes, saying something about his stomach giving him the blues. 

You let it go then, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it all day. 

In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you decide to text him a flirty message, running to the bathroom to take a picture to match. You waited a little bit, hoping that he could take at least a peek. 

“You look gorgeous, honey.”

Just gorgeous? Not hot? Not good enough to make him want more?

You scrunched your mouth to the side, asking if he could send a picture back.

“Baby, you know I can’t. I’m at work right now.” 

You huffed at that. You knew he was just in his lab by himself. There was plenty of time and solitude to take a picture. He used to send random pictures of himself all of the time. 

For the rest of the day, you were irritated, feeling slighted at the hands of your husband.

You took a break from trying to seduce your husband, tired of the pushback. You put your all into taking care of the kids and maintaining the house when you could.

“And how many sticks does that leave Cassie with?” you asked Gabriella. You both were at the dining table with her math homework sprawled everywhere while dinner was in the oven. 

“27!” she shouted, voice becoming more confident over the course of the math sheet. 

“Correct! You’re knocking ‘em out, girl!”

“Buen trabajo, mija,” Miguel said with vigor as he came by to kiss the top of her head. “You’re doing so well.” (Good job, mija.)

“Does this mean I can get a cookie?” she asked, quick to melt her father’s heart.

“Not before dinner, Gabriella, you know this,” Miguel bounced Raul in his arms, a little fussy and sniffly. 

“Please, papá!” she looked up at him with big brown eyes and a pout.  

Miguel sighed, unable to say no to her 9 times out of 10. 

He looked at you frantically, watching you snickering behind your hands, “You have to ask Mamá.”

Whenever he really wanted to say no, he used you as a trump card.

Gabriella’s shoulders drop as she turns to you, already knowing the drill.

“The answer is no. You can wait until after dinner,” you say, squeezing her cheek.

“You always say no,” Gabriella whines dramatically, slumping in her seat with her arms crossed, pout just like her dad’s.

“And you can always go to bed with no cookies,” you chide as you get up to go check on dinner. “Now go put your homework up and wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”

She puts her papers back in her folder with the theatrics of a Broadway actor, sighing dramatically with each step she took to her room.

Miguel laughed at her actions watching her leave, “She’s just like her Mami when she gets like that. Fussy.”

You pause to put your hand on your hip, “No, she’s just like her Father when she can’t get her way. Whiny.” You open the oven and pull the lasagna out to the stove to cool a bit. 

“Well, I can’t say no to her just like I can’t say no to you,” he says, placing Raul at the table with a hand running over his soft hair. “You both have the same puppy-dog eyes.”

“You like leaving the hard parenting to me.”

“That is not true. I just tussled with a four-year-old to get him to take his cold medicine and made a promise of not one, but two bedtime stories,” he says, coming up behind you as you reached to get the dishes. He got them down for you instead, hand on your hips and stomach pressed against your back.

You bite your tongue in order not to will your negligent, horny brain from awakening. You didn’t have time for those thoughts, little feet were near, and every advance you gave him ended in failure. 

“Is he doing ok?” you say, referring to Raul he sat at the table with his head down, a teddy bear hugged against him as he pitifully moved his toy car back and forth. It was definitely a big shift from his usual talkative demeanor.

“We might have to go to the doctor again. His allergies are really acting up.”

You leave Miguel’s side to go squat down by Raul, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You rubbed his back, trying to see if he felt warmer than usual and sure enough, he was burning up.

“My throat hurts, Mama,” he said, little voice just about gone. 

“Oh, I know, my sweet baby,” you say with a soft voice. “Do you want me to make you some alphabet soup?”

Raul’s face twists up, lip a little wobbly, “But I want some cheese noodles.”

“Hey, it’s ok!. You can have some lasagna. I just want your throat to feel better. Hot things will make it feel better.”

“The cheese noodles are hot, too.”

You smiled, “That’s right, the cheese noodles are hot, but I mean a hot liquid.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, hands squeezing his teddy bear as he thought, “Can I have hot chocolate?”

“Of course you can. Can I give you a kiss?”

He nods his head slowly and you lean over to kiss his head. You needed to get him under the covers soon. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around your neck, snuggling up to be held. You couldn’t resist holding your baby, especially when you couldn’t take his pain away. 

You get up to see Miguel helping Gabriella plate the slices of lasagna on each plate and setting up the side salad. Your heart filled with joy watching them giggle over the stretchy cheese. It was moments like this that reminded you that you were taking the right steps, that this was the perfect little life.  

As they set up the table with the plates and drinks, you kept Raul in your arms, ready to help him with tonight's dinner. 

“Thank you for the food, Mommy,” Gabriella said with a toothy smile. 

“You’re welcome, baby,” you say, cutting Raul’s food up even smaller, not wanting him to struggle any more than he had to tonight. 

The table was quiet, save for Gabriella and Miguel smacking their food occasionally and Raul’s wheezy breaths. 

By the time dinner was over, Gabriella was buzzing in her seat for cookies, and Raul was close to falling asleep in your arms. 

You couldn’t ask for anything better. 

With Raul sound asleep, Gabriella tucked in bed, and Miguel watching cable, you had a moment to yourself to think. 

Did today’s small touches mean anything?

You stood in the bathroom moisturizing your skin after a hot bath. You said you were going to stop trying to fish for your husband’s attention, but if you were honest, today’s brief moment of connection did it for you. You couldn’t stop your thoughts once you were alone.

You decide to wear just a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts to bed: a look that wasn’t trying too hard to get his attention, but you’re sure he’s going to notice it. 

You sat on the bed and decided to read until he came into the room. You hope you were giving a sexy girlfriend vibe. Your skin was all smooth, you smelled good, and you knew you looked good. 

When Miguel walks in, he pauses at the door to stare at you. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? Come to bed,” you say. 

Hook, line, and sinker. 

Miguel shuffled over, eyeing you from head to toe. He looked delicious in his tank top, fabric stretched in the best possible ways.

He crawled on the bed next to you, “My band t-shirt?”

“Yeah! It’s comfy.”

He rubbed his hand up your naked thigh and your nerves started to sing. Any further up, and you might just wet your panties from his touch alone. You missed it so much. 

He leaned over to kiss the juncture your neck and shoulder, your neck, your cheek, and then he stopped. 

He just…stopped.

“Well, I gotta go in earlier tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep early. Is it ok if I turn this light off?

You felt your throat dry up, “Yeah, ok.”

He got under the sheets and switched his lamp off, leaving you in the dark with the faint light of your Kindle illuminating the room.

“Goodnight, honey,” he said with a yawn. 

“Night.”

You turned your Kindle off and just sat in silence, his snores breaking the illusion of the dark consuming you. 

You’re starting to think the worst. 

You kept up a number of tactics subtle to glaringly obvious to appeal to your husband from changing up your perfume to what you would say was an amazing strip tease. Absolutely nothing is working. 

He kept listing off excuses from the kids to his job to his parents to his brother, anything to avoid an intimate session with you. He even chose a night out with his boys over a night in bed with you which was jarring because he always made you feel good before going out to have a good time. 

Did he not find you attractive anymore? You knew childbirth brought a lot of change, but you were still the same woman he met and fell in love with. 

Did he not love you anymore? He often praised you for being a good mom and his pet names never stopped, but after that, his declaration of love for you had been very surface-level.

Is he cheating on you?

You really didn’t want to entertain that thought, but your heart couldn’t take any more pain than it already had. 

So, one day when you say you’re taking the kids to the park, you drop them off at your mom’s place instead, hoping that if there was something going on, no little hearts would be broken once you unleash a beast in the house. 

You pull back in the driveway to see that he’s still here, just as you suspected. You make your way quietly through the house, inching closer to you all’s bedroom. 

Your heart almost stops when you hear the sound of Miguel’s voice, high and breathy in a way that should only reach your ears. You don’t think when you swing the door open, adrenaline pumping high.  

Miguel yells, scared to death but alone. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice frustrated.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?”

You look at the state he’s in, shirt up, waistband under his dick, and a mystery fabric in his hand. 

“Were you getting off?” you say, hands dropping to your side. “Do you…do you not love me anymore?”

“What?”

“Do you. Not. Love me anymore. You avoid me every time I’ve tried to initiate something with you. We haven’t made love in so long. You keep making excuses to not be alone with me. You don’t even want to do normal things with me like send pictures or makeout until we’re out of breath. I’ve heard you in the bathroom during the night and now you’re here doing the same thing, without me, your wife.” Your eyes start to water after it all, feeling utter defeat. 

“Cariño, this is a misunderstanding,” he pleads, voice distraught. “I do love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“Then why are you doing this to me?”

“Because,” he pauses, fixing his clothes to have some decency. “I…haven’t felt the greatest about my body.”

Your tears dry up as soon as the statement resonates, “What? What do you mean?”

Miguel sighs.

“Lately, it’s getting harder and harder for my old clothes to fit me anymore, I’m way too busy to hit the gym and more than anything, I think you deserve a man who’s a little less,” he gestures to himself, “let go.”

“Says who?”

He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads, “Uh, everybody?”

“Well, who is everybody because I’d like to strangle them for letting you think that my husband isn’t good enough for me.” You walk deeper into the bedroom crowding Miguel’s space. “You’ll always be perfect for me. The vows I promised to you will not be broken over something so normal as weight gain.”

He looked like he could cry. 

“Why did you hide you were feeling this way, baby?” you hold his head in your hands scratching at his scalp. 

“It felt stupid and silly. You’ve been doing so well socially and physically, I wanted to see if I could fix it on my own before bringing you down with my problems.”

“Miguel O’Hara,” you say, gripping his jaw firmly. “I’m your wife. I might not be able to solve everything, but at the very least, you need to talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, express yourself with words. Don’t hide.”

He wrapped his arms around you, sniffling, “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

You pressed a long kiss into his scalp, rubbing his back. 

“Oh my gosh,” you chuckled. “You were feeling so much internally, meanwhile I was practically screaming at you to fuck me. I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore.” 

So much for communication. 

Miguel just burried his face in your chest while he groaned, “That’s the thing! You were driving me crazy with your tight little workout clothes and your lingerie. You looked so good, but I couldn’t get out of my own head. I’ve been…”

“You’ve been what?”

“I,” he got red in the face. “I’ve been using your underwear.”

You look down to Miguel’s crumbled up hand and it was in fact your underwear from the night you wore his band t-shirt, drenched in his essence.

Your stomach turned with excitement.

“So this is what you were doing in the bathroom in the middle of the night, hm? Using my panties? Giving them more action and attention than me?”

Miguel nodded, eyes hazy.

“Did it feel good?”

Another nod.

“I bet it did. I would wake up and hear you trying so hard to cum.”

You don’t know how, but his face got even warmer.

“You left your poor wife all alone, thinking about you on top of her until she came too.”

“I did?”

“You didn’t know?” you ask, playfully. “I was up all night imagining you walking out to see me. I wanted these arms to come and hold me.”

You squeeze at his arms on your sides. 

“I wanted your weight on me. I wanted your chest against mine.I needed you so bad.”

You move to sit in his lap, knees on the side of him.

“You do such a great job of being a father. This beautiful change in your body is only proof of your hard work and dedication. It’s proof of love for your family.”

Miguel only melted in your hands, face a cloud of emotion.

“I love you, Miguel. I adore you. I yearn for you. I want you.”

With every declaration, came a kiss to his lips.

“Can I show you how much I love you?”

“Please.”

With that, you took his shirt off and made your way down his chest. You lingered around his chest, holding his pecs as you kissed them all over. You couldn’t stop your moans as your tongue felt across the hairy planes of his chest, sucking and pulling on his nipples. Miguel shudders as you pay special attention to them, sensitive after not being with you for so long.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his skin. You slide onto the floor and just press your face into his stomach.

“You like it that much?”

“Love it. You look so yummy walking around. You could be just standing there and I get so,” you cut yourself off, trying not to overwhelm him with just how much you were feeling. “You’re hot, baby.”

You kiss down his happy trail to reach his pants, his stomach twitching. You tugged a bit too hard on his pants, causing him to laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” you say with a pout. 

“I haven’t seen you like this since we won that couple’s retreat.”

“Not my fault. You were all sexy up there, beating the other husbands with your big brain. It was doing something to me.”

You finished pulling and you could almost cry with joy when Miguel’s cock springs next to your head. The sound you make when you see it also has Miguel wound tight. 

Completely taken over by your neediness and desperation, you pull one of his thick legs over your shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin while your fingertips dance around the entirety of his length. 

The display of strength shocks Miguel who drips and whines at your actions. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” he whispers. 

You cup him while you take his head in your mouth. It felt like pure bliss to have that familiar taste in your mouth. With the way you were humming, Miguel can tell that you were about to put him to sleep. 

You took no time letting your tongue stretch to take more of him in. Your cheeks hollow as you go further, one hand kneading at the thigh you were holding and the other switching from fondling him to wrapping around the base of his length. 

“God,” Miguel’s voice filled the room, the loudest it had been for the past few months. “I don’t think I’ll last that long.”

You let go of him and lick down the sides, “That’s because you’re too busy fucking other things instead of me.”

“’M sorry,” he whined as you went back down on him. “I-I was still thinking of you and, ngh, wanting you.”

“Mm hm,” your voice sent shocks down his spine as you didn’t let go. He moved his hips steadily, dick sliding in and out of your mouth and pudge occasionally pressing against your face. 

The faster he went, the noisier the sounds got. He moved his hands to your head, thighs eerily close to tightening around your face. You couldn’t have it any better. 

You dug your nails into his hips, throat contracting in order to take him in. Even with your jaw slacked, it’s been so long since you took him like this that you gagged more often than not. With every sound of your throat struggling, Miguel shouted your name, hands gripping tighter on your hair.

You could tell he was close by the way his thigh was tensing on your shoulder, so when he said the four words, you took him to the hilt, face completely pressed against him. 

“Shit!” he felt like passing out as he released into your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, but you couldn’t take it all, saliva and cum esxaping down your chin to his balls. 

He grunts when he pulls you off, chest moving sporadically. 

You lick your lips and let out a satisfied sigh, “Finally.”

Miguel could only chuckle as he laid back on the bed. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his thighs with a smile. You rub your hands on the skin of stomach, slowly getting to his chest, “I’m like, really wet right now if you want some more painties to use.”

He growled as he pulled you closer.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the P. “I really want you to do it in front of me. Maybe send me a video for the nights you work overtime.”

He had the nerve to look embarrassed as he wrapped his arms around your back, “I might be able to arrange that.” He kissed your lips to distract you from speaking on it further.

After Miguel returned the favor with his head between your legs, the both of you were enjoying a quiet moment together before having to go pick up the kids.

“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you,” Miguel said as you were drawing circles on his chest.

“Miguel,” you say, lifting your head. “I pulled all the stops. I did things that I knew you loved: the t-shirts, going commando, the flirty pictures. I even brought whipped cream to the bedroom and you told me ‘I can’t eat that, it’ll blow up my stomach,’ when you were literally in the kitchen taking shots of it the night before.”

“Ok. So I see how you might have gotten to that ludicrous conclusion, but did you not notice how much I’ve been staring at you?”

You clicked your teeth, “Yeah, but what does that mean when you don’t act on it?”

Miguel twisted his lip, “Will you feel better if I told you that your work pictures turned me on too?”

You pinched him resulting in a yelp, “I’ll feel better right now if you give me a shower round.”

He pulled you in his arms as he got out of the bed, “Let’s go before your mom calls.”

You giggle and swing your feet on the way.

After your afternoon of praising his body, Miguel emerged as his previous confident self. This meant more days with him walking around shirtless, more quickies in the morning, makeouts that ended in pleasure, him smacking your ass, you smacking his ass back, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Right now, Raul was down for a nap and Gabriella was enjoying her tablet time. 

You, however, were clawing at Miguel’s back like a cat as he pounded you into the mattress. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, eyelids fluttering as Miguel’s cock dragged across your walls. “It feels so good.”

“Quiet, mi vida,” he whispered. “The kids are in their rooms.”

You were quick to cover your mouth, moans muffled. It really didn’t matter because the creaks of the bed were just as loud as you. One change in position and the headboard denting the walls could be added to it. 

It was all too much. 

First, he woke you up with kisses down your body and a promise to lighten your load around the house. Then, he got the kids up and prepared breakfast with the help of Raul. Later while you were out running errands, he sent you a coupon for a spa that just opened up down the street and warm message. 

Now, he has you losing your mind with his hips slapping against yours, whispering praises in your ear.

“Miguel!”

“Hm? Talk to me.”

“I-I can’t-” your voice keeps getting louder unintentionally. He was so calm while he was reaching so deep inside. Your mind was hazy, wanting nothing more than him to keep going.

“You’re doing so good, Ma. You’re so good to me and the kids. You’re such a beautiful wife. Such a pretty Mama. Just wanna make you feel good.”

You felt yourself clench around him at his words, tears falling across your temples. He kissed your tears tenderly, strokes getting deeper. 

“M-Miguel,” you say with your heart full. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. So, so deeply,”

That was all it took for you to suck him in and scream into his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulder blades. His release was soon after, painting your walls with his lips pressed against your ear.

“Papá! You have to be more careful,” Gabriella fussed with her hands on her hips while Miguel was in the kitchen trying to make the family a snack. “You got hurt at work!”

Miguel paused and reached behind his back, fingers roaming over the healing scratches on his shoulder from his last session with you. 

You covered your teeth with your lips as Miguel turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised. 

“It’s ok, mija. Papá is tough!”

“But you gotta put something on it,” Gabriella said with a huff.

“Thank you for your concern, nena. I’ll get Mamá to take care of it, ok?” he ruffled her hair as he handed her a plate of bunny-shaped apple slices. “Now go sit with your brother and watch some TV.”

Miguel huffed as he walked up to the side of you with his arms crossed.

“What? You should put your shirt on!”

“That’s not what you said when you-”

“Hush and go get the aloe.”

Miguel snickered as he gave your lips a peck, “Yeah, yeah.”

Life was wonderfully sweet.

With that, my first request is done! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[mischievousmoony]

𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛

⟢ rockstar!sirius black x reader ⟢ you do your boyfriends makeup before he goes on stage ⊹ 1.2k ⟢ warnings/tags: just fluff ⟢ note: inspired by luke hemmings (my beloved) because i think sometimes his wife does his makeup!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Keep your head still,” you mutter, lifting the brush from your boyfriend’s eyelid momentarily as to not mess up your work.

Sirius’ head had dipped down again, his attention being drawn elsewhere. His hands squeeze at your waist, “I can’t help it. You look ravishing tonight, darling.”

You hook your pointer finger under his chin and bring his unabashed eyes back to yours, shaking your head disapprovingly as you do, which only makes him look even more brazen.

“Close your eyes,” you command softly as your hand slides up his face, your thumb finding its way to his cheekbone to brush off some powdery fallout.

Sirius hums in protest. “You said I didn’t have to right now.”

“Now I’m saying you do,” your voice is teasing, yet he finds it melodic.

Sirius playfully huffs but lets his eyes flutter closed, reasoning with himself that while he may not be able to see you, he can relish in your touch. The hands on your waist travel to the small of your back to ease you closer until you stand between his legs, which he presses into your sides once he has you where he wants you.

You graciously let your boyfriend move you as he pleases while you coat your eyeshadow brush in a murky blue pigment. You give it a tap on the edge of the palette to shake off any excess before returning the bristles to his eyelid. You’re going for a smokey blue look tonight, incorporating Sirius' staple component: glitter, of course.

Your pinky grazes his neck as you move to tilt his head, giving you better access to the left side of his face. You feel a content rumble from his throat below the tip of your finger.

Sirius’ large hands slowly drag up and down your back until they diverge, one going up to rest between your shoulder blades and the other stooping lower until he can grab at the back of your thigh.

You ignore the way it has your stomach in knots. Sirius is trying to distract you with the way his hand curls around your leg, his fingertips brushing gently against your inner thigh. But he's due to be on stage any minute now, so you need to finish his eyeshadow swiftly and send him on his way.

The shiver down your spine is goes ignored as you place the eyeshadow brush on the table. Your hands find either side of his jaw as you tilt his head side to side, making sure you're happy with your blending of the shades of blue.

"Done?" Sirius asks, eye still closed.

"Almost."

You find a clean, new brush— the one you like for packing on pigment— and dip it into a shimmery, blue glitter. You begin to pack it onto his lids. If you had been doing your own makeup, you would normally hold a tissue or piece of card stock under your eye to catch any specks of glitter that rained down on your cheeks. Sirius, however, likes the way the excess glitter looks, sometimes even opting to smudge extra below his eyes, dragging it nearly halfway down his cheeks.

Once finished with the glitter, you do the same as before, turning his head in your hands to inspect your work.

"Done now?" Sirius is getting fidgety. He can usually sit pretty for you, captivated by your beauty, he says. But since he had to be cheeky and force you to command that his eyes be closed, he's getting a little antsy.

"Patience," you mean to scold him, but you can never waver your tone from amusement with him.

Originally, this is the finished product that you planned. But upon seeing it, you think he needs a pop of brightness. Choosing a more precise packing brush for the job, you add a white shimmer to his inner corners.

As you pull the brush away from his face, you're instantly happy with your decision.

"Okay, open," you say warmly.

Sirius is more than happy to oblige. You're inspecting the shadow in your usual way and Sirius drinks you in. Your teeth drag over your bottom lip, and he can barely help himself from capturing it in between his own pearly whites.

Your gaze is scrutinizing, and Sirius can tell that you're not all the way happy with the look.

"What is it?" Sirius asks. Expecting something to be off, his hand travels from between your shoulder blades to the nape of your neck, playing with your hairs there the way you like in an effort to bring you comfort.

"No, it's rather lovely. It's just—" your eyes dart down to his lips and it takes a lot of restraint to not interrupt you by smashing his own against them— "I know you usually only do your eyes, but this look would be stunning with some glossy lips."

"Yeah?" Sirius is the one eyeing your lips now, "Like what you have on now?"

You're wearing a pinky, translucent gloss with flecks of glitter in it. For Sirius, you were thinking any old clear gloss would do, but the more glitter the better.

You tilt your head side to side, weighing the options.

"That could work, let me grab it out of my—"

Any restraint Sirius once had snaps, and your words are lost on your tongue when he pulls you in by your neck, capturing your lips in a fervid kiss.

You're not even caught off guard, used to being interrupted by Sirius' lips.

"You can't expect to run that pretty mouth of yours for long before I can't resist a taste," he always says.

His one hand remains on the back of your thigh, his fingertips digging into your pillow soft skin when your lips part for him, allowing his tongue entrance. He can taste the vodka cran you've been sipping, prompting a guttural sound from his throat that vibrates against your lips.

When he pulls away from you, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth like he'd been longing to, dragging them over the plump flesh slowly until your lip freely bounces back into place.

"How's that look?" Sirius asks, his voice huskier than usual.

Your eyes flick down to his lips, slightly swollen and coated in a sheen of your shiny pink gloss.

"You're a dream, baby," you say breathlessly, running a thumb around his plush lips to capture the excess gloss, "Wanna see?"

You don't wait for his answer before you're snatching up a hand mirror, ready to show off tonight's eye look.

"Stunning as always," Sirius murmurs, admiring your handiwork with quiet approval. When you weren't around, his makeup consisted of a smudge of glitter to his lids with the pad of his finger. Though, despite your willingness to teach, he'd never risk sharpening his skills, worried there would be less moments like these in the future if he did.

"That's just my canvas," you muse, smoothing your thumb against his jawline.

There's a knock on the door, jolting you out of your moment of admiration. A muffled voice calls, "You're on in five, Sirius!"

Sirius doesn't seem phased, a smirk dancing on his lips as he pushes your body close again, "I guess we have a few more minutes on our hands."

By the time has to rush to stage, you've had to hastily apply a new coat of gloss on both him and yourself, the original layer having been thoroughly kissed away.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[genacity]

DAY FIVE. FEVERISH

ft. kaeya alberich — genshin impact

as a werewolf, it’s hard to control your animalistic urges as is. but while in a heat; dizzy and restless and constantly feverish with your tease of a boyfriend around, it just gets that much more difficult.

ruling. nsfw — mature content

content warnings. amab! werewolf! reader, breeding kink, heat, anal pen, “monsterfucking”, spanking, belly bulge, established relationship, mentions of pregnancy, slight feminization (using “mother” for kaeya, talking about carrying the reader’s child), reader can be viewed as gn because there is no gender-specific vocabulary except the male anatomy lol

an. hello everyone i’m back, ty for all the kind words you all sent to me! this was not proofread so don’t make fun of me for any errors. i don’t read my shit b4 i post it. enjoy!!

kinktober 2023 masterlist

heats are the worst time of the month, you think.

when your brain is a constant blur; images running into themselves and you can barely make out what is or isn’t. voices make your head pound and your body is always on fire, with hands sweating a downpour and you can’t help but shed your clothing the moment you step into your shared apartment with your boyfriend, kaeya.

kaeya. that’s right, the love of your life— kaeya alberich was the damndest thing that’s ever happened to you. when you first met he was such an angel. gentle with a sweet tongue and smooth words that made your heart race.

when you first told him of your origins as a werewolf a few weeks after you started talking, he told you he saw you all the same. not as a monster like everyone else did.

and when he experienced your first heat about a month after you started dating, he learned something new about himself.

he liked it rough.

rough with the way you’d manhandle him, tossing him around into different positions to stuff him full just the way he liked after he teased you all day.

rough with the way you shoved him down onto your shared bed, quickly tearing his shirt apart— quite literally as the buttons flung off of the fabric and he let out a dissatisfied sound.

“that was my favorite shirt,” kaeya breathed, watching as your big hands fussed with his belt buckle “you’ll have to pay for that, y’know.”

“oh, i’ll pay for it.” you grumbled, swiftly tugging his pants off and discarding them onto the floor with his belt. quickly pushing his legs apart and rushing to press your lips and teeth to his exposed chest and skin.

he let out a shaky breath as your lips left marks on his skin. deep purpling marks and outlines of sharp canines messy along his collarbone. your hands crept down to his twitching cock, but swiftly passing it as your attention was focused… elsewhere.

“gonna prep you, kaeya.” you muttered against his burning skin before looking up for approval. “gonna prep you good so you can take my cock, m’kay?”

he nodded, and you continued. your large fingers began to work him open, making your lover gasp and clench tightly around the two digits inside of his hole.

kaeya felt his own thoughts blur. your thick, long fingers working in and out of him, making his body tense up with every thrust. it doesn’t take much to work him up— the smooth-talking captain really isn’t as suave as he thinks.

by the time you’ve fucked him open he’s already melting. biting his bottom lip to silence any sounds that may slip past his lips.

“ah… darling,” he whispered before being cut off by a whine. “please, i’m ready for you.”

“are you sure?” you asked, voice almost a purr, deep and rumbling in your chest. kaeya nodded eagerly, and a smirk splayed onto your lips. “you’ve spurred me on quite a bit. i won’t be gentle.”

“i don’t care,” he shook his head. “i want you. please?”

and so you positioned yourself right. throwing his slender legs over your shoulders and pressing your tip to his entrance.

he thought you’d never give in. kaeya opened his mouth to protest, to whine. but never got to for he felt your length split him nearly into two. you forced yourself in and he keened, head thrown back and hands grasping for the pillows behind his head as you began to fuck into him at a relentless pace.

“gonna fuck you full,” you panted, the smell of sweat and sex leaving the both of you breathless. “this what you wanted, huh? wanted me to use you ‘til you can’t speak?”

all he could muster was a breathy whimper. too focused on the feeling of your long cock breaking his body and forcing him down. just the way he wanted it. just the way he needed it.

kaeya felt as if he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. until a harsh slap to his bare thigh brought him back and he flinched, gasping for air as you kept fucking him.

“answer me.” you demanded, and he immediately scrambled to answer. “yes, yes, feels good,” kaeya whined. “you feel so good. so b-big, i can’t—”

and your hips began to speed up. thrusts growing hard and sloppy, your hands suddenly just beside his head as you angled his hips up to buck into his prostate.

kaeya almost wailed— maybe he did. body jolting with every thrust. voice dissipating into strained moans and whimpers as you continued to use his body.

“y/n, y/n,” he chanted. the sound of skin against skin and your rough groans in his ear only spurred him further. “so big, so full! fuuck!”

your growls turned into chuckles of amusement as you continued your rough pace on his body. “gonna breed you.” you whispered into the shell of his ear. “gonna use your body up and fuck you full of my babies.”

“yes, please,” kaeya nodded, huffing and whining. “fuck me full. wanna— i wanna feel you!”

he knew it wasn’t possible. you couldn’t actually get him pregnant. but the thought of it was exhilarating. you, knocking him up and leaving him with a baby. would he be a good mother? maybe. maybe not. he wish he could figure out. but if not, this would be just fine.

more than so.

kaeya opened his pretty eyes to try and look at you while you fucked him. instead, his vision fell to the bulge in his stomach that grew every time you drilled your hips up into him. the sight left his mind swirling with thoughts. so badly did he want your cum deep inside his stomach— so much so that the big bulge your cock imprinted in him did a baby take its place. he whined out, staring as your dick shaped his insides and left him moaning messily out for more.

“fuck, baby.” you groaned into kaeya’s ear. “i’m gonna cum. gonna make you take all of my cum. you’re gonna take my knot like a good boy, aren’t you?”

it was all ‘yes, yes, yes’ and ‘cum with me, please!’ from the lips of your lover. so badly did he want to experience the high of your release together.

and when you finally let go, finally pump all of your cum into his hole does he scream. the loudest he has in a while. you’re so warm, you make him feel so full— his eyes roll back into his skull and he’s stuttering pleas and begging for you to fill him up more, more, more.

his voice is giving out. similarly to his legs. you groan lowly into his ear and he feels his stomach churn. his own high leaving him breathless as it crashes over him and he himself cums streams of white all over his stomach.

the captain isn’t quite sure if he can breathe. not sure if his lungs are working properly, or if he’s even alive at all. not with the way he’s gripping the sheets for dear life as if worried he’ll find himself lost if he lets go.

and this is why he teases so much during your heats. to feel you inside him, stuffing him full and threatening to knock him up as if he’d take it like a curse— when in reality, he’d do anything to make you happy. even if it meant bearing your pups.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

perhaps a bit of an odd question: so, when I'm scrolling tumblr on mobile, I have a habit of downloading most images i come across, so that I can send them to people who don't use tumblr, especially memes and animal photos. however, i also have severe memory issues, and I may end up forgetting where i got certain images. i know for the photo repository one of the rules is to not repost the photos without any modification- which i might forget, or forget which images on my phone fall under that rule. and while i would guess that that rule doesn't apply to stuff like direct messages or texts, i might forget to tell the person I'm sending it to, who might repost it elsewhere without being aware, or months after downloading i will just forget and use one of the photos in a post I'm making because it felt relevant.

this is something i can pretty easily solve myself by just blocking the photo repository blog, or tags relating to it, but I'd rather not do that because i do really like seeing the photos and all the info and stuff. and i would assume it would be an insane amount of work for you to add something like a watermark to every single photo, so I'm not really sure how to go about this. i like seeing the photos, but i don't want to accidentally break the rules.

You clearly care deeply about doing the "right thing", so, what that tells me is that you're not actually the target audience for that rule. I appreciate all the thought you put into this message. Let's talk about it!

I've been reconsidering if requiring people to get permission for reposting images is the best policy to have and I'd like people to weigh in.

My original reasoning was this: the more I can ensure that reposts are affiliated with credit, the better I can control copyright on the images on the site, and therefore have more ground to challenge any scrapers/fake accounts/AR groups that yoink them for nefarious purposes. The easiest way to do that seemed to be to have people ping and ask, with the expectation of saying yes almost all the time.

But there's a couple problems with that, I think, in practice:

People don't like emailing strangers (I forget this! I have done it for work for so many years it isn't uncomfortable anymore).

This isn't how the internet works. (Tumblr has a specific microculture that encourages crediting creators and not stealing! Once this is shared more widely on other platforms, I don't expect it'll be the same ecosystem).

It actually undermines organic spread of content! (You're less likely to make an excited post about a cool photo if you have to send a maybe-scary email and wait for a response). And I do want there to be lots of eyeballs on the photos.

Realistically, @nexus-nebulae, with the policy right now? If you slipped up and reposted something without thinking, I'd just ask you to add credit to the post so it directs back to the site. The goal of this whole project is community access and engagement - I want to you to enjoy the photos, and send them to your friends! I'm just trying to also protect it from the awful that a lot of the internet has become.

But, I'm also wondering it it makes sense to swap the policy to say that it's fine to re-post images on socials as long as they're appropriately credited and/or linked back to the repository. This isn't the policy yet, but if you're reading this please tell me what you're thinking.

Non-edited image use (like putting them in a scientific paper, using them to build a curriculum unit, or putting them on board game cards - these are just random examples) would still need to be requested; but that's an entirely protective stance and if you ask, my goal is to always say yes.

So OP, please don't worry too much. Enjoy looking at the animals, do your best, and I'll be happy. :)

[chatterbox-73]

Simptember 2024.

Day 3 - Stuck with me.

Hanji Zoe x Reader

This story is a smut story for simptember, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for simptember and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/N: hanji is non-binary in this one-shot, if you have any issues with this take it elsewhere.

Summary: you and Hanji find comfort in each other after a devastating loss.

Word count: 1.8k

CW: NSFW and adult content, mention of loss and death, angst, fingering, dry-humping/grinding, bottom/switch Hanji, oral (f!giving) and swearing.

You sat on your spouse bed as they sat beside you hands clasped together, head downturned, the smell of the ocean filled the room and acted as a constant reminder that you and everyone else on this boat were travelling to your doom. “Hanji it’ll be okay, we’ll be able to make them see” you hummed and you laid a hand over their’s, they sighed and leaned into you, resting their head in the crook of your neck before taking a deep breath and flopping down onto their back. “You’re amazing, almost too good for me… ya know that” hanji hummed and you fell back next to them, you pinched their nose and frowned, “that’s not true and you know it” you whispered and kissed their cheek before letting go of their nose.

Hanji had always doubted your relationship with them, though you both loved each other it wasn’t always like that, as you were originally in an incredibly serious relationship with a close friend of hanji’s, Moblit Berner. The relationship was so serious you’d both spoke of marriage and children, although despite your relationship with Moblit, hanji was also in love with your boyfriend and you were sure if you hadn’t drunkenly confess your feelings for the man, he’d be with them rather then yourself. Despite your dislike for hanji and their dislike for you, you both kept it civil for Moblit’s sake, however when he died you were both so lost, your world had fallen to pieces and you could tell so had Hanji’s. You and Hanji began to spend more time together, you felt at peace being around someone who was so close to Moblit, Hanji had always resented you for ‘stealing’ Moblit from them, that was until he was gone and they had begun to see how much you loved him by how much you hurt, they also saw how giving you were and realised you were exactly what Moblit had needed. Moblit was a giver, he’d always given all his time and energy to Hanji, but with you, he didn’t need to give much, because you were always so willing to give him everything, you were just like him and just what he needed, however he was no longer here, leaving you with so much to give and no one to give it too.

Hanji was surprised to see you at their door only a week after Moblit’s funeral, you held a covered pot in your hands and a weak smile on your face, “I made a little too much Borscht and thought you might like some” you spoke just above a whisper, hanji nodded and gestured for you to come in. Hanji grabbed out two bowls and spoons before sitting at the dining room table, you scooped some into the bowls and sat across from Hanji before beginning to silently eat, Hanji noticed the food was still hot, like you had cooked it and then came straight over, “thank you but why didn’t you share this meal with your neighbours” they asked as they took a large spoonful and ate it, you looked down at your bowl sadly “he’d always talk about how you’d forget to eat and he’d have to practically force feed you… it got to the point he’d ask me to make an extra portion just for you…” you looked up at them and felt tears sitting in the corner of your eyes, “…and… and now… I’m supposed to only cooking for one… but I-” you cut yourself off with a sob following this you took a deep breath in and looked back down at your bowl. “Keep cooking for me, I’m always hungry and I’m hopeless at cooking…” Hanji chuckled before continuing to eat and so it became a regular thing. It became quite normal to see you and Hanji walking around the markets picking out ingredients for meals, you’d both grown close and you could definitely see why Moblit liked to spend time with them and if you were being honest you’d started to fall for them, Moblit’s death still hurt but it had been a year and Hanji had made everyday easier. You sat on Hanji’s couch with a glass of wine in your hand, “you know this tastes really good for the ‘cheap’ stuff” you chuckled and slipped on the half empty glass, “what can I say, I’m a person of fine taste” they smirked and took a large gulp from their glass while sticking up their pinkie, you laughed and shook your head before placing down your glass, “stay there, I brought the perfect meal to go with this” you stood up and walked over to the small picnic basket you brought with you, before taking out a kind of covered board and walking back to them, “ohhh what’s this…?” They hummed as you placed the board down and uncovered it, “tada! It a charcuterie board” you smiled and sat back down, Hanji was quick to start eating the food on the board before continuing on with your conversation. You both chatted about all kind of things, however a small silence fell over both of you, “you know I miss him…” Hanji stated almost out of nowhere and you blinked at them before nodding, “me too… I- I wish he had the chance to see the ocean” you smiled and swirled the drink around in the glass, Hanji hummed in agreement and placed a hand on your knee, “I’m gonna be here for you no matter what… you got that?” They smiled and squeezed your knee, you chuckled and nodded before leaning into them for a hug. You placed down your glass and wrapped your arms around them, Hanji copied your action and moved in closer to you, “I- I… umm” Hanji stumbled as they pulled away and looked down at their lap, “what’s wrong?” You asked and they looked up at you with a red face, “I think I really like you… but I don’t want to take advantage of your grief” they sighed as the turned and rested their head in their hands, you smiled and rubbed their back “Hanji, I like you too and yes, I’m still grieving but I want to start slowly moving on” you smiled as they looked up at you in shock, you leant in and kissed they cheek, Hanji hugged you and gave you a soft kiss to your lips.

Dinners became dates and hugs became kisses, long passionate kisses. You and Hanji stood in the kitchen holding each other as your lips locked in a fiery dance, Hanji’s hands began to wonder and found refuge under your shirt, you gasped at the coldness of their hands and chuckled as they pinched your skin, soon enough you and Hanji found your way to the bedroom, you laid on the bed and Hanji leaned over you, “this isn’t too fast? I don’t want to rush you” they smiled and you shook your head, “no, we’re not going too fast…” you grabbed their collar and pulled them in, “are you sure-“ Hanji panicked but before they could finish, you kissed along their neck up to their ear, “let’s do it” you giggled, to then moved to open your legs and hike up your skirt in the process, Hanji then shifted and pressed their hips in between your spread legs, “have you ever done it with someone like me?” They asked as they removed your shirt.

You hadn’t but what did it matter, Hanji was your partner, your lover… and lovers make love, that’s what you wanted, that’s what you needed.

“I’ve had sex before, and I don’t need a cock to enjoy myself” you chuckled and turned your body so that you were now straddling them, you made a move to unzip your skirt before lifting it up your waist and up over your head, “pretty graceful, huh” you smirked and tossed the fabric to the side.

There you sat over Hanji, naked, completely naked, you then moved their hands and placed them on your hips before you slowly started rolling your hips as if you were riding a cock, they hummed and rubbed circles on your bare skin, “you seem like a professional” they groaned watching as your puffy clit rubbed against their coarse fabric, “oh yeah… but you make me like this” you whined breathlessly, Hanji laughed and pressed your further onto them, you moaned loudly “Hanji, more… more pressure” you whimpered, suddenly they grabbed your legs and flipped the both of you so they were over you and grinding their hips into you.

You grabbed at their waistband of their pants, “I need to feel your skin against me” you moaned and tug at the fabric, they slowly pull back and remove their pants and shirt, take in their appearance and you feel your face going red, they were just so attractive, almost too attractive. You gently reaching out for the bandages around their chest, “are you comfortable taking this off?” You asked and they look away, before shaking their head “I’m sorry I can’t yet” Hanji glances at you only for a moment and you smile, “don’t be sorry, I’m not upset, this is all about comfort and trust” you grab their cheeks and look them in the eye, “I want you to be comfortable” you kiss them and move a hand down their stomach to their cunt.

Your fingers brushed over Hanji’s clit and they moaned, pressing their hips into you, you began slowly moving two fingers inside them, “oh fuck” Hanji cried and ground their hips in time with your fingers, you placed soft kisses on their neck and whispering praises against their skin, “I’m close… please” Hanji moaned and their hips shuttered, as they hunched over and rested their face in the crook of your neck, “you’re so sexy when you cum” you hum and pull back, you push them down and climbed back onto them, straddling their thigh you smiled and kissed their cheek, Hanji took a sharp breath in as they felt your knee pressed into their core while you began grinding yourself onto their thigh, “trying to make me cum again?” Hanji huffed out and you grinned, “I always want you to feel good” you moaned and began to focused on your movements.

Hanji watched your body wind and grind on them, working yourself as well as them to an orgasm, you really were a giver in everything you did, they wondered for a moment if this is what it was like for Moblit when he was with you.

“Well your stuck with me” they moaned, eye glued on your body as your hips twisted and you throw your head back, coming down from your high you moved to lay between Hanji’s open legs, kissing over their trembling core, “good” you breathlessly chuckled and began working your tongue into them.

Simptember Masterlist

Day 2 - Dabi/Toya Todoroki: Psycho B*tch

Day 4 - Tamaki Amajiki: Comparison

[anneapocalypse]

On Cullen's Earnestness

In my current playthrough of Dragon Age: Inquisition, this one early war table quest caught my eye that I think offers a good bit of insight into Cullen’s character.

In “Truth or Dare: The Imperial Court,” Vivienne alerts Josephine to a letter she’s received from an acquaintance, purporting to “warn” Vivienne of the suspect company she has taken up in joining the Inquisition. The letter reads thus:

My dearest Vivienne,

You cannot have heard the shocking allegations against the Inquisition, or surely you would never have been seen with them. Allow me, as a friend, to open your eyes. People are saying that Divine Justinia is, indeed, alive, but that the Inquisition—her closest advisors and most trusted servants—have orchestrated all this chaos on her orders. That it was Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Nightingale who sabotaged the Conclave in order to eliminate the opposition within the Chantry, and cut off the heads of the mage rebellion and templars in a single stroke. To save your own reputation, you must escape this acquaintance immediately.

With deepest concern, Vicomtesse Elodie de Morreau

In the context of the Game, we may understand that this Vicomtesse, while she may call Vivienne a friend, likely has no great concern for her reputation.

The Inquisition is the horse on which Vivienne is betting in order to better her own position (which is considerably shakier than she lets on, but that’s another post); Vicomtesse Elodie is simply making a different bet. If Vivienne heeds her warnings, and the Inquisition never achieves public favor, then Elodie’s advice was correct and Vivienne is indebted to her. If Vivienne heeds her warnings and the Inquisition does gain public acclaim, then Elodie has disrupted Vivienne’s opportunity for advancement, and she also wins. And if Vivienne does not heed her advice and the Inquisition remains a pariah, Elodie gets to watch Vivienne go down with it, smugly saying “I told you so.” Only if the Inquisition thrives and Vivienne with it does Elodie lose this bet—and Vivienne is clearly interested in seeing that outcome, and helping it come about.

The important thing is that the specifics of the accusations against the Inquisition are absolutely irrelevant here. This conspiracy theory about Justinia being secretly alive and the Left and Right Hand doing a sabotage to secure Chantry power—it’s all nonsense, and I doubt the Vicomtesse truly believes it. More critically, she likely does not care whether it is true. Repeating this rumor is just a means to a desired outcome.

If you’ve ever argued with a conspiracy theorist who seemed to simply change their position every time you backed them into a rhetorical corner, you may have realized that facts are largely ineffective at combating this sort of thing.

And of the three advisors, Cullen is the only one to get hung up on the content of the rumor, rather than its source and its purpose. Josephine and Leliana, seasoned players of the Game, both recognize this stupid rumor for what it is. Both of them ignore the substance of it and instead focus on its purpose: turning public opinion against the Inquisition. Josephine proposes to combat it by seeking noble favor elsewhere and leaving it to those allies to do the work of actually arguing against the rumors. Leliana is more interested in finding out with whom the rumor originated.

Leliana also makes the particularly savvy observation that if they were to combat the rumor by attempting to prove Justinia’s death, they would simply be providing their opponents more ammunition to use against them later. Leliana recognizes that “The Divine is alive, and you’re hiding her!” isn’t an earnest accusation, it’s bait. And if you take the bait, if you say, “Actually the Divine did die; here’s her remains to prove it,” then your enemies can say, “Aha! And how do you know she’s dead? It’s because you people killed her!” Or, best case scenario is they just bait you into wasting a lot of your time proving the accusation false, which is exactly what happens if you let Cullen take the bait.

Again, you might have had a similar experience if you’ve ever tried to “debate” a person whose strategy is making outrageous claims, letting you waste a lot of time earnestly debunking them, and then ignoring all your arguments and simply making another, equally outrageous claim.

In Cullen’s case, what happens is poor Knight-Captain Rylen is tasked with leading a field trip of Orlesian nobles through the grisly ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, while asking them to please not touch the red lyrium, and no, you cannot take a charred corpse home as a souvenir, please milord I must ask you not to touch the red lyrium. I’m sure that was an excellent use of everyone’s time and resources.

But it’s easy to understand why Cullen responds this way! It’s a very instinctual and human response! “Well, you’ve just said a thing that is very obviously untrue. I’ll prove to you that it’s untrue! And this will solve the problem of you being wrong, and then we can all move forward together. Right?”

It’s an eminently reasonable response, so long as you assume that the other party is being reasonable and engaging with you in good faith.

Cullen assumes they are. Josephine and Leliana know they’re not. (Vivienne also knew this; hence her handing the letter over to Josephine to deal with instead of bothering to reply herself.)

And you can probably see how Cullen’s earnestness, his desire to believe that other people are also operating earnestly and in good faith, could lead him down some dangerous paths.

Knight-Commander Meredith was also a conspiracy theorist. The difference is that her conspiracy theories were about people she had near-absolute power over, with terrible consequences. And working under the authority of someone he wanted to believe in, someone he absolutely would have taken as entirely earnest (because in many ways she was earnest, at least in her belief that magic was dangerous and must be controlled), it would have been easy for Cullen to assume she must be acting in good faith, even when his misgivings arose. “She needs a spine of iron to survive her position,” he says to Hawke. And like anyone arguing in bad faith, Meredith could move the goalposts when it suited her. No signs of blood magic discovered? That only proves how well they’re hiding it. The tower must be searched top to bottom. The First Enchanter objects? He must be one of them. Dissent among her own templar ranks? Must be the blood magic controlling their minds. As Dan Olson puts it in his video In Search of a Flat Earth, conspiracy theories make facts subservient to outcomes, which is why the "facts" can easily be rearranged and discarded at will—all that matters is the actions those facts justify.

Of course Meredith’s beliefs were, again, quite different—more dangerous, and far more earnestly held than this silly Orlesian rumor about the Inquisition. She was also under the influence of red lyrium at the height of her paranoia. But conspiracy theories often feed on paranoia, and Meredith’s beliefs were still ultimately beliefs that could be bent to justify the outcome she (and her superior, Grand Cleric Elthina) desired: mages must be controlled, whatever the cost.

Cullen has managed to extricate himself from Meredith’s mindset. But he hasn’t yet learned, I think, that conspiracy theories and irrational beliefs can’t be overcome simply by reason. That’s also very understandable for someone in his position. When you’re in the process of overcoming some very wrong beliefs yourself, things you earnestly believed, it’s very natural to want to believe that everyone else is just as earnest and can be persuaded; in fact, you have a personal stake in believing that, because if other people can be redeemed, that means there’s hope for you.

Do I think this justifies the things Cullen was complicit in during his time as a templar, or any misguided opinions he may voice during his time with the Inquisition? No, that’s not why I’m saying all this. But I think it’s an interesting aspect of his character and one worth exploring. Cullen is often characterized as the blunt instrument advisor, his answer to most war table questions being “send troops”; in Josie’s words “the hammer for whom every problem looks like a nail.” But I think some of his offered solutions do offer compelling insights into his character, and this one certainly does—as well as an interesting example of how this approach to the world and other people can go wrong.

[kikyoupdates]

Indebted ⭑˚🥀⭑ 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

Following your mother’s recent passing, you are visited by a group of men claiming that your father abandoned all his debt and obligations, leaving you to take his place.

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"Reqests that still need to be processed get marked ad sorted into that pile over there for the boss to review himself. Other things like business receipts get filed away, and the ones we've already rejected are taken to be shredded," Yuki explained. "Does that make sense to you?"

You nodded once. "Seems simple enough. I guess I'm just worried. I might accidentally throw out some important papers."

"It's fine," he chuckled. "Anything you're not sure about, you can just ask me. I don't expect all of this to come naturally right from the start, but you'll get used to it eventually. I know some yakuza groups get a bad rep, but most of what we do isn't all that exciting, really."

"Right..."

Considering te fact you'd been kidnapped right after your mother's funeral, you would say that he was probably underselling it quite a bit.

"In any case, I'll always be here to help," he smiled, lightly patting you on the shoulder. "I'm a fairly new member myself, so we're kind of in the same boat. We should look out for each other."

"I'm not exactly a member," you replied grimly. "Ryu brought me here to work off my father's debt."

"Oh, uh... well I sort of figured that there was a catch. We don't exactly have any other women working in the offices, but for the time being, we're still coworkers, aren't we?"

"There are still other women that are part of the yakuza?"

He hesistated for a moment. "Unofficially, yes."

"Meaning...?"

"Wives or girlfriends of the members, or other family members with special connections. There's also the women that get put to work, um elsewhere."

"Like on the streets," you swallowed, remembering all-too well what Ryu had threatened you with just last night.

"Not always. They're usually taken care of pretty well. But you're right that a lot of their business isn't exactly legal."

Yuki offered you a sympathetic smile. It didn't matter how nicely he tried to put it, the fact of the matter was that they were being forced to sell their bodies in order to fund the yakuza's activities. Perhaps he was even telling the truth. Perhaps some of those women were content with their jobs, their lodgings, and knowing that they'd be under the group's protection. But that could never be you. Which is why you were determined to do everything in your power so that it wouldn't come to that.

"Here," Yuki said, trying to change the subject. He handed you a large stack of papers. "Start with these ones for now. Remember, if there's anything you are struggling with, I'll be right over here to answer your questions."

He smiled one last time and sat down at the desk just beside yours. You appreciated the fact he was at least treating you with some respect. Even now as you tried to bury yourself in work, you just couldn't seem to avoid the scathing looks you kept getting from all around the room. They seemed outright disgusted that they were sharing the same space as them. They were probably even wondering why you were still alive, given that you were going to do your best to survive.

At first the process was quite slow. You were being as careful as possible to make sure that you didn't mess up any of the filing or throw away something that would be important later on. Yuki was very kind and patient and was there to lend a helping hand whenever you needed it. Perhaps it was because you were so immersed in your task, but time started passing much faster than you'd expected, and before long, you'd actually gotten the hang of things.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Your peace was short-lived, however, and the cry caught you so off guard that you actually jumped back in your seat a bit.

Hardly a few moments later, the door to Ryu's private office came swinging open. You told yourself not to look over at him, to just mind your own business and keep your head down, but as always, curiosity got the best of you. Immediately, you wish you hadn't given in to your shallow urges. The look on his face was dark, vicious. He seemed ready to destroy anyone who stood in his way.

Ryu gritted his teeth and faced his underlings. "Would one of you morons care to explain why I'm just now hearing that the Imai group has been dealing drugs on our turf?"

Nobody answered. You had no idea who this Imai group was, but they had clearly got themselves on Ryu's bad side. Yuki glanced over at you for a moment and pressed hs lips together. He'd seemed so bright and carefree just earler but now he was visibly stressed.

"None of you, huh?" Ryu scoffed loudly. His gaze eventually fell upon one of the men who had the misfortune of standing closest to him. "You. I believe I put you in charge that day when I sent out some men to monitor rival gangs. You didn't think to tell me something like this was happening right under my nose?"

The man stared at him in confusion. "Me? Sorry, boss but I think you have me mistaken for someone else-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. The sickening sound of flesh colliding aagainst fles reverberated across the walls, and you stared in horror as Ryu cracked the man's nose against his fist.

Blood sprayed out and drenched the man's face. He let out a broken wail, but Ryu had already pinned him to the floor.

"Don't you ever talk back to me," he seethed. "You're saying I'm the one who's wrong? I'm the one who's made a mistake? All I ask is that you do your fucking job, and you're not even capable of that much. You goddamn maggot."

The man mustered up the beginnings of an apology, but it was too late. Ryu punched him again, then again. Over and over until his knuckles were glistening with dark, crimson fluid. The sound was positively horrendous. He just kept on going, seemingly to no end. It only stopped when the man's body went still on the ground.

Ryu stood up and wiped his brow off. "Useless prick. Let this be a lesson to all of you. Stop letting me down, or you'll regret it."

You were so terrified that you hardly even dared to breathe. You watched as one of the other men crouched down and pressed two fingers against the fallen victim's neck. "He's alive," he whispered to one of the others. "Clean him up and take him to the infirmary. I'll call the doctor in."

That same men then walked over to Ryu and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Ryu, let's take a walk. After that, we'll figure out how to deal with this situation. We should get in touch with the group's boss and set up a meeting."

Ryu didn't say anuthing at first, and for a moment, you were worried he'd whip around and started beating this one half to death as well, but mercifully, it didn't go down that way.

"Like that'll accomplish anything," he scoffed. "You know how that bastard is. Never learns his goddamn lesson. I thought he'd been awfully quiet recently."

"And we'll get it sorted, just like we always do," the man reassured.

"Whatever. I need a smoke."

Ryu wiped his bloody hand off with a napkin and started walking down the aisle. Everyone else had already averted their gaze, clearly attuned to this sort of behavior, but you weren't so quick on the uptake. You couldn't help it. You'd just seen him bash in another man's face without even batting an eye.

He must have caught you gaping at him, because he paused right in front of your desk. "What?" he snapped. "You don't know how to mind your own business? I thought I told you to focus on your work. If you don't get your shit together, I really will make you spread those legs."

You shuddered but did your best to hold in your tears. He didn't say anything else, just grimaced as he passed you by. The older man who was walking by his side also stared at you for a few moments. His gaze wasn't exactly cruel, but it was ice cold just the same.

Ryu eventually left te rom, and then only did you allow yourself to actually breathe. Yuki leaned over in his chair and placed a palm over your trembling hands.

"Hey," he frowned. "It's alright. This only happen every now and then when he gets really pissed off. We've been dealing with another problematic yakuza group for a while, and it just frustrates him. He might seem scary, but he's not the type that you take his anger out on a woman."

You knew he was only trying to cheer you up, but after what you'd just witnessed, it was getting harder and harder to believe him.

"Did that man really not do anything wrong?" you asked, quickly wiping your misty eyes.

"I'm not sure," he contemplated. "But I don't think so."

"So, he got hurt that badly for no reason?"

"It sucks that he got hurt, but like I said, sometimes the boss just needs a way to take out his frustration. He recognizes the good from the bad. He's aware of which members work hard and do their part. Even if that guy wasn't responsible this time around, he probably hadn't been pulling his weight for a good while."

"That's just horrible," you grimaced. "How can you follow a person like that?"

"He's a good leader," Yuki defended. "The boss is able to make tough decisions when the situation calls for it. But if I'm being perfectly honest, most people here probably joined around the time his father was still alive and in charge. I've heard that guy was a legend."

Seeing as how most of the members were older than Ryu himself, it made sense that they'd simply stayed out of respect for the original leader's lineage.

You gave Yuki a curious look. "What about my father? Did you work with him?"

"I've never met him," he said. "But I've heard what he did. It's really an unfortunate situation. You seem like a really nice person. so the fact you're only here because of him... it's shitty. But not to worry!" he quckly perked up. "Like I said, I'll look after you. The boss can be harsh at times, but he appreciates hard workers. Do your job well and you have nothing to worry about. I'll make sure to put in a few good words as often as I can."

"Thanks, Yuki."

"No problem! Oh, you should probably take advantage of the fact he is out with Masahi right now."

"Masahi?"

"Yeah, the guy he was just talking to. He's sort of like his right-hand man. He worked for Ryu's father most of his adult life, so he's known the boss ever since he was a kid. Take a break for a little bit, you've earned it."

"Alright," you nodded. "I'll do that, then."

You were thankful for Yuki. If nothing else, it felt lke you might at least have one person to get along with in this hellhole. Sometimes, little things like this made all the difference. It was too early to call him a friend yet, but perhaps one day it would get to that point.

You walked over towards the water tank and poured yourself a cup. It was cold and refreshing, exactly what you needed in a suffocating environment like this one. A lot of people were still glaring at you, but you were starting to take it in stride. You'd quickly realized that no one was as terrifying as Ryu.

So immersed were you in your little reprieve that you didn't notice the man walking up to you until he was right by your side.

"Oh, shit!" you spluttered, dropping the cup to the floor in your surprise. Great. Thankfully, it was just water, but if Ryu came back right now and saw that you'd made a mess, you were certain he wouldn't go easy on you.

But before you could clean up after yourself, the man had bent down and picked the cup off the floor. He handed it to you, still with a bit of water left inside, and proceeded to grab a wad of napkins and wipe the puddle up.

"T-Thank you," you flushed. God, how embarassing. These people absolutely hated you, and you weren't exactly making yourself look very good right now.

The man stood up, and you noticed right way that he was one of the few younger members. You couldn't tell exactly how old he was, but he didn't seem far from you in age. He had dark, short-cropped hair, tan skin and blue eyes that were almost blindingly pale.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was much deeper than you'd expected, but smooth and clear.

You weren't sure what he meant. "I beg your pardon?"

"Earlier. You looked scared."

"Oh..."

Clearly, you'd been a lot more obvious that you'd thought. You couldn't really help it, though. The act of violence had been completely unprompted. You knew that you were gong to have to get used to things around here but couldn't see yourself ever becomng numb to this sort of stuff.

"I'm alright," you said, smiling weakly. "I was just taken by surprise, that's all."

"This isn't a good place for you to be," he frowned. "What does he have against you?"

"My father stole a lot of money from him, so he tracked me down. I have to work here until I can pay him back."

His eyes widened for a moment. "That guy was your father?"

"Yes... unfortunately. I'm [Name]," you introduced, extending your hand out.

"Hikaru," he said. He hesitated for a moment before shaking your hand, but eventually did so. "I don't know what else to say, other than I'm sorry. I'm only here because of my old man too."

"Did he also leave you in debt?"

"Not exactly. It's complicated."

"Where is he now?"

"Dead. Good riddance."

You had no idea how you were meant to respond to that, so you quickly changed the subject. "My father... did you ever speak with him? How did he act? I'm only curious because I haven't seen him in almost ten years."

"He was a piece of shit," Hikaru said, without a moment's hesitation.

"Right," you laughed. "I guess I should have expected that."

"Don't waste your time thinking about him. Family that only burdens you without any concern for your wellbeing is hardly family at all."

"You're right. I'll try not to."

Hikaru glanced around the room. "Also... be careful. I doubt any of these guys will try hurting you since they all know you've been brought in by Ryu personally, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were scheming something. Just don't give them any reason to make your life difficult. Try to be as invisible as possible."

"I'll try, but that's easier said than done."

"Yeah. Yuki's one of the better ones, so you should be fine as long as you stick with him. Good luck," he said, tipping his head slightly before walking away with his own cup of water.

There were a lot of things you still wanted to ask, but you doubted he had all the anwers anyways. Like Hikaru had said, there was no point in trying to figure out what kind of person your father had been like around here. You already knew far too well. He was selfish, cruel and heartless.

Being thrown into the lap of someone like Shimazaki Ryu felt like a bitter irony of sorts.

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[shy-urban-hobbit]

Today really wasn’t shaping up to be Edwin’s day. For one, he was still stuck in Port Townsend. The dreary, frigid weather reflected his mood perfectly as he ended up voluntarily rooting through various pieces of debris and detritus down an alley behind the house they were investigating if only to get away from Charles’ constant attempts at trying to impress Crystal as he followed her around like a puppy. He hadn’t even spared Edwin a glance when he stated his intention to search outside. Edwin briefly looked over at one of the top floor windows, wondering if his companions were having any better luck inside. So far, this job had been nothing but dead end after dead end even with the mediums help.

He yelled out in fright and fell backwards from where he’d been crouched down investigating the contents of some half rotted wooden crates. A tabby let out a string of equally shocked profanities as they bolted over the lip of one of the crates and through a gap in the fence lining one side of the alley- but not before taking an instinctual swipe.

“Sixty six.” He hissed as he clambered back to his feet, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity as the burning sting originating from the back of his hand started traveling up is arm – the leather gloves he’d removed in some misguided (pointless) attempt at keeping them clean mocked him from inside his pocket. They weren’t deep scratches at least, but that didn’t make them any less uncomfortable.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” A familiar voice sang out from right behind him.  Edwin levelled a glare downwards (because at this point, surely only someone or something from Hell could be responsible for how this day was going). He spun smartly on his heel to face the Cat King –  Thomas. Edwin had heard through the grapevine his name was Thomas - head on, expression artfully just the right side of annoyed and hands clasped behind his back. The other being was dressed in the same skirt and boots he’d worn on their first meeting, only this time paired with a ridiculously fluffy brown sweater Edwin would probably be coveting right now if he were capable of feeling the cold.

“Something you need?” Edwin drawled, hoping his bored tone would make Thomas take the hint and leave.

He merely grinned and arched an eyebrow in response, “Depends what you’re offering. No, I merely thought I’d drop in and say hi to my favourite ghostie and imagine my surprise when I turn up to see you getting down and dirty, routing through the garbage. Would have thought that was more your ‘best friends’ wheelhouse.”

 Edwin personally may not have used air quotes a day in his life (or death), but he’d seen Charles use them often enough to understand the implications the action created. “He’s currently searching elsewhere. With Crystal.”

“And not with you.” Thomas’ grin took on a sardonic edge, “Oh hoho! Trouble in paradise is it?”

Edwin didn’t reply, but he could do little to stop the twitch of his jaw which was apparently all the confirmation Thomas needed, “Bestie’s had his head turned and left you, quite literally, out in the cold. Ouch.”

“It was merely a matter of convenience.” Edwin snapped, “This case has given us absolutely nothing but trouble and the sooner we solve it, the sooner I can get back to counting your bloody cats and the sooner I can leave.”

Thomas raised both hands in mock surrender, “Ok, as you say. But just so you know, I’d never-” He trailed off, smile dropping as he leaned in closer to Edwin until the ghost was almost tempted to take a step back. Almost. “Why do you smell like you’re in pain?”

Edwin blinked in surprise, “Beg your pardon?”

“Pain. Where are you hurt?” Thomas asked, completely disregarding the opportunity to say something crass about what he’d rather Edwin beg for.

Edwin scoffed, “I assure you, I’m perfectly fine – hey! ” He spluttered as Thomas reached around and grabbed the wrist of his injured hand in a gentle but insistent grip.

“Don’t even try.” Thomas said flatly, levelling the ghost with an unimpressed look as he bought the hand around to inspect it.

“As I said. I’m fine, it’s nothing.” Edwin tried to focus on the shine of the others gold nail polish and not how gently he was turning Edwin’s hand this way and that for closer inspection.

“Aaaw!” He simpered, “Did one of mine leave you with an owwie?” His tone of voice may have been that of someone addressing a young child, but Edwin saw the real, unasked question in the hard glint of his slit-pupiled eyes.

Who?

“It was my fault, I startled them. I’m sure they didn’t mean it.”

“As am I.” Thomas said running warm fingertips gently over the red lines, “None of them would dare intentionally hurt what’s mine.”  He bent his head and pressed a lingering kiss directly on the injury.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Edwin demanded, snatching his hand away and silently berating himself for not doing so sooner.

“Just kissing it better, darling.” Thomas replied with a wink, “If you ever get bored of being an outdoor ghost, you know where to find me.”

A puff of purple smoke, followed by a fluffy brown tom cat strutting back out onto the main street and Edwin was once again alone.

“Absolute wazzock.” He muttered as he made to continue his hunting, unsure which of them exactly he was talking about and trying to convince himself that the dissipating pain where Thomas’ lips had been was just a figment of his imagination.

[entwined-fxte]

just for a while.

a/n: surprise! it's a fic from 2 years ago!

content: when artem encounters an unwanted conversation, how do you save him?

artem wing × fem!reader (you/your).

no explicit warnings, but reader is wearing a dress.

fluff/comfort. 1.7k words.

"Mr. Wing, are you sure this dress is alright for tonight?" You took a moment to stare at how the dress hugged your torso, worried that it wouldn't live up to the expectations of the event. "I can't help but feel like it's too casual for black tie."

The senior attorney couldn't be more glad that you were distracted with twirling the loose hem of the skirt. It meant you wouldn't see how quickly Artem's ears turned red when you asked him for an opinion on how you looked. "You look perfect like that, Y/N."

The way you giggled at his response sent Artem's heart into orbit. He wasn't sure he was regretting the decision to invite you, or if he was relishing in delight at how he got to see you like this. The only word in Artem's mind was "breathtaking".

"While that certainly helps with my self confidence, it doesn't quite answer my original question." Meanwhile, you didn't think there was any more room for improvement when it came to Artem and his suits, but you were painfully (and wonderfully) mistaken. When Artem came to pick you up, you expected his usual striped suit and tie, but it was replaced with a sleek, black suit and a bowtie. His hair had a touch of gel to it, which kept it pushed back just a bit more than usual, but the subtle difference was enough to almost make you stumble when you first saw him. "Is this really formal enough?"

Some years ago, Stellis began hosting formal parties annually for the sake of making connections between the big names of the city. It was always a black tie event, and was also only by invitation. According to Celestine, Artem had also been invited to go both last year and the year before, but he had declined on the basis that he had no “plus one” to take. Artem was ready to decline a third year in a row, but Celestine decided to take matters into her own hands and force you to be Artem's “plus one” so that he would go this year. She had said it was for the sake of the firm, but the way Celestine smirked at Artem at the time gave very mixed feelings.

"Don't worry; the dress suits both you and the occasion." His eyes found yours within seconds, and even though you both clearly saw the red on each other's cheeks, the unanimous decision to ignore it was telepathically made. "We should get going," Artem said while clearing his throat, gesturing to the car he had driven over.

Awkwardly, you tore your gaze away from him before making your way over to the passenger side. "Right, let's head over," you said just a little too quickly for Artem to believe you weren't avoiding a conversation just now.

The car ride itself was short, but the silence felt like eternity, and it felt even longer when either one of you made the slightest noise. By the time you reached the venue, you were ready to open the door before it was even unlocked. But with the event just a few steps away, you were instantaneously reminded that you weren't the most confident in your attire.

When you stopped trailing behind Artem, he took notice immediately, turning to look at you with concern written across his face. "What's wrong?"

Your hands fiddled with the hem of your dress, barely meeting his eyes as you answered. "I just don't want to look out of place," you murmured before casting your gaze elsewhere again.

Artem blinked at you before moving to get in your line of sight. When he saw your eyes on him, he sent you a smile before gesturing to you to walk towards him. "Just stay with me, and you'll always look like you belong."

There were a lot of things Artem did that always caught you off guard; one being when he said things without thinking it through.

When Artem finally realized that what he said had more than one connotation, his cheeks flared up and he felt like he was on the verge of a mental disaster. "B-because, you're my work partner. So, of course you belong here." As quickly as he could, he averted his gaze to gather himself before shakily offering his arm to you. "Now then, shall we?"

His face was still red and his eyes were everywhere but on you, but you found that he had done the job of calming you down. Even if it was his own heartbeat that had started becoming erratic.

Gently, you slipped your arm into his, starting to fall in step with him as you walked into the venue.

A few heads turned your way when you came inside, and there were a few voices that had started to mention how Artem had declined the last two years' invites. Subconsciously, your hand held tighter on his arm as though you wanted to steal him away from the gossip. Unfortunately, your linked arms were separated far sooner than you would have liked, and both of you were eventually dragged to different sides of the hall in different conversations. At some point, you had noticed a woman who seemed to be a little closer to Artem's age approach him, and even though you continued to cycle through conversations, Artem was still talking to the same woman each time you shot a glance at him.

The next time you checked your watch, you realized that you had been shuffling through people for almost an hour, which also meant that Artem had been talking to the same woman for an hour. Even with no reason to be mad, you couldn't help but feel irked at how the woman seemed to close the distance between her and your senior.

You managed to ignore it for another 10 minutes, but the last of your patience was ripped from you when you saw the woman take a step forward and Artem immediately back away. As politely as you could, you excused yourself from your current conversation before beginning to weave through the room to get back to Artem.

The closer you got, the more the sound of strained laughter and polite agreements rang in your ears.

Artem had been dealing with this for what probably felt like ages to him, so it was your responsibility to get him out.

When you were close enough, you called his name as gently as you could, making sure to furrow your eyebrows to look concerned just to complete the look. "Artem? Are you okay?"

If you thought Artem's face was red when he heard you call him by name, then the colour his face turned when you took his hand in yours was a shade of red that only an art student could recreate.

While the senior attorney made an attempt to cover his face with the hand you weren't holding onto, the woman who he was talking to cleared her throat before looking you dead in the eye. "Sorry, and you are?"

"Y/N," you replied as casually as you could, determined to sound unfazed. "Sorry to interrupt, I just came to check on Artem." You weren't sure how badly he needed a rescue, but you figured that he was relieved when he adjusted his hand to slip his fingers between yours.

"Oh, yes, you're his work partner, right?" The woman's eyes flickered back and forth between Artem and your interlocked hands before brushing the situation off. "I didn't realize you had more than a work relationship," she said with a hint of exasperation, obviously wanting to pry.

In return, you laughed the tension away, taking a second to rub your thumb on the back of Artem's hand to bring the act home. "It's not something to really put out there, after all. We're happy being quiet about it."

"Oh, well, I wish you both good luck in the relationship," the woman replied hurriedly, giving you both a slight bow before slipping away to avoid further embarrassment.

Next to you, Artem released a sigh that sounded like he had been holding it for the entire hour. "Thank you," he whispered, taking a moment to relax himself.

To your surprise, Artem didn't drop your hand, but instead strengthened his grip when you were about to pull away. "Ah- Mr. Wing-" You stuttered on your words, but immediately became silenced when you found his blue eyes locked onto how your fingers were interlaced.

"Stay like this. Just for a while," Artem murmured. "Please."

His voice was broken, filled with a longing that he had always wanted to satisfy. Even if he couldn't hold you forever, he at least wanted to keep you close tonight.

"O-of course, Mr. Wing," you spluttered out, squeezing his hand in response before turning away to hide the heat that had crawled up your face.

For the rest of the night, the only time you left Artem's side was when you excused yourself to the ladies room. When you came back, Artem extended his hand to you again, refusing to continue the conversation he was taking part in until your fingers were laced with his. The both of you became a topic for strangers, since no one had imagined Artem was romantically involved with anyone, let alone his work partner. Despite the stares, you and Artem continued on with the event, the comfort from each other strong enough to drown out the rumours that were circling the gala. Occasionally, you whispered to Artem about what might happen for the two of you regarding the rumours after the night was over, but he always shook his head and said, “rumours about me never last long to begin with.”

The later it got, the more you found yourself pressing into his warmth, and even when you forced yourself to pull away from him, he brought you right back, his free hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of your face before leaning closer to you.

“If you’re getting tired, you can lean on me,” he urged softly, his gaze finding yours before moving to look at the time. “Or, if you’d like, we can leave a little early and I can bring you home.”

With a contented sigh, you shook your head, taking him up on his first offer. “I don’t mind staying here longer,” you smiled, moving closer to Artem as he stroked your thumb with his own, completely forgetting every worry you had before you came.

a/n: if you recognise this fic no u don't lol

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

[guardianbingo]

Guardian Bonus Bingo FAQ

Welcome to Guardian Bonus Bingo!

This is a very low stakes, low pressure fest meant to be fun and inspire more Guardian fan creations. Whether you’re returning after having participated in the original Guardian Bingo or are joining for the first time, we’re happy to have you here!

How Does It Work?

We’ll issue five prompts over ten weeks (one new prompt every two weeks), starting on June 9.

Prompts go out every other Sunday and you’ll have two weeks in which to create a fill. Then a new prompt will be issued. This cycle repeats until we make it through all five prompts.

We’ll also have an amnesty period at the end for prompts you might have missed earlier in the fest.

What Do I Earn By Completing Fills?

A sense of accomplishment, the adoration of your fellow fans, and the fun that comes with creation.

Completing all five earns you a bingo, a badge created by the amazingly talented @highlynerdy, and your name on a shoutout post at the end of the fest.

Can I Fill Multiple Prompts With A Single Work?

Maybe. The single work will need to be composed of multiple parts.

As one example, a multi-chapter fic where each individual chapter is inspired by a different prompt would work. A one-shot would not.

Similarly, multi-panel art with each panel inspired by a different prompt would work while a single piece of art would not.

If you have something in mind but aren’t sure, check with a mod.

Is There A Signup Period?

Nope. You are welcome to join at any time up until the end of the amnesty period.

What Works Are Accepted?

Pretty much any new creations, including, but not limited to:

Fanfic

Fanart

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Vids

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Podfics (with original author’s permission and a link back)

Translations (with original author’s permission and a link back)

Meta Analysis

If you have another idea, check in with the mods but it very likely works.

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None! This is meant to be fun, not stressful.

Want to write a 100k multi-chapter epic? That’s a tall order for ten weeks, but we’re cheering you on! Want to only post drabbles? Also wonderful!

The same applies for non-fic creations.

The point is to make stuff, not worry over min/max requirements.

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Either or both! It’s totally up to you. All prompts will work for both.

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All ratings and any ships (or no ships) are allowed, though works should be appropriately tagged.

Crossovers, Derivatives, Other Priest Novels, And RPF?

While the fest is Guardian themed, all are allowed. Just tag appropriately.

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So long as the other fest has no objections, you are good to go!

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The AO3 Collection

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[woodsfae]

B5 S03e15 Interludes and Examinations  previous episode - table of contents 

I don't think we've heard from Ivanova's personal diary before....it's totally possible that I'm forgetting one, but still! Exciting! Hearing a personal entry isn't common on B5 iirc. I will never turn down a peek into Susan Ivanova's head. 

And it's factual, bad news. The shadows have been attacking openly for ten days, randomly, all over the place. And there's an older guy looking suspicious on B5! The younger guy he's talking to I thought was Morden The Asshole at first, but that was just my moderate faceblindness tricking me, I think. 

Ooooo I am excited for the return of Adira! I'm tired, very very tired, of sad genocide Londo. Let's get some character arc in here, and I liked Adira. 

Wait no it is Mordan! Ah! That asshole! 

There's a new alien species reaching out for aid that Sheridan isn't giving much inspiration or help to. Well, I typed too soon: he has contacts and negotiations in his toolkit of resources. 

"I'm not questioning you, I'm saying you're flat wrong!"

is a great line. 

Dr Franklin is definitely still on the sims, but Garibaldi should have been yelled at. The security chief has no place tyring to talk to the emergency room doctors trying to save a patient's life. Get out of there Michael Garibaldi. No room for cops in the operating room, scoot. 

Morden: make your government start more wars or else Londo: I have stared death in the face and said "meh"

Elsewhere...

Garibaldi: I think you should do less legal speed and sleep more. Dr Franklin: I'm going to do more legal speed and sleep less, actually. 

Delenn and Sheridan's interaction made me laugh. And perhaps it foretells of the return of Kosh to the main storyline? 

This Garibaldi/Sheridan foreplay is getting intense. Garibaldi is staging a full-on intervention on the legal level. The hamfisted AA commerical is a little dull for me but could be way more annoying, as far as a storyline goes. 

Morden the asshole is continuing to be an asshole, charming the caterer slash personal shopped Vir was meeting with on Londo's behalf. 

lmao dr franklin. staring into the cold abyss of realizing you really really like coke. 

So Sheridan slash humans see an angelic, glowing figure when they see Kosh. Which doesn't explain why the original doctor from the pilot movie was so affected by a glimpse. Me, I'd be more "huh, glowing kinda looks like an angel...the universe is weird. Stitch him up!"

"You said you wanted to teach me to fight legends? Well you're a legend too." 

LEGENDARY. So legendary that's Sheridan's going to have to fight himself. 

"You do not understand. But you will."

Yeah I wouldn't like to hear that after making a bargain with an inexplicable and incomprehensible higher being. 

I'm too high to follow this space battle at all so it's great to hear Ivanova report that the Vorlons engaged the Shadows and were winning. 

o.O they brought back Adira just long enough to have her killed before she arrived! Morden, you asshole. 

Well, Lord whatshisface of Centaur who Londo half-poisoned. But Morden, ultimately, I'm sure. 

Bye Adira, sorry you got fridged. 

Sheridan's bargain with Kosh paid off, and now he will be alone and without Kosh's help when he goes to die on Z'ha'dum. 

Which is almost as ominous as Sheridan's dream vision. Seeing Kosh, Shadows appearing and disappearing, and then his father-bit-actually-Kosh apologizing for not believing him and ...dying? Seems like if Kosh could see this coming, then he could also arrange for some like, shielding, or some other Vorlon tech for protection. But it is about time for the stakes to be raised and the mentor figure to be killed off in this hero's quest, I suppose! 

The Vorlons think it's a bad idea to announce that Kosh slash a Vorlon? has died. So they're going to send a new Vorlon to replace him?? new character alert! I look forward to meeting Kosh-notKosh-Kosh. 

Londo still buying Morden's shit! Londo's revenge arc is, I glumly foresee, going to include more war crimes, and continue to be sad.  

Hmmm. I didn't expect Dr Franklin to resign! I'll be interested in finding out what he gets up to while he tries to do less speed. 

But not in the next!

[interstellar-inn]

꩜— greetings all, happy wednesday! mod cotton here and i am pleased to announce our creator of the week!

what is creator of the week?

creator of the week is a project started by the network to celebrate different writers and artists in our community. with such a vast network of amazing and talented creators, we think it's only fair we show a little extra love to each one, one creator at a time. creator of the week aims to show a little extra support to creators by shining a special starlight on them and featuring a few of their works. you can help support too by giving them a follow, or if you read their fics and find that you like any of them, make sure to reblog and let them know!

with that, congratulations to fawn a.k.a @dearbraus! as this month being pride month, we wanted to highlight a creator who writes queer fics and fawn is practically the pioneer. they are a very pleasant individual to interview and talk to! during our interview, we talked about their experiences as a queer creator on tumblr, fandom, and the community all together; and get to know them more! touch read more for the full interview below!

1. what made you join tumblr? how long have you been a member all together?

i joined tumblr originally for fanart and fandom! i believe it was for the hunger games and percy jackson! that was back in 2014 so it’s been about ten years as of this year!

2. what's keeping you to the site? is there anything you like about it? what could be changed?

honestly the community! even with all its flaws it’s the community that keeps me on tumblr. i do of course love supporting my fellow artists and writers but this specific corner of tumblr is really special in a way that it cannot be found elsewhere. i really like how tumblr allows you to personalise your blog and the ask function as it makes for fun interactions without the pressure of it being private. i’d honestly only change how the tag system works because it can be so finicky with getting posts to show up lol!

3. what is the most difficult part for you when it comes to brainstorming/writing?

hm, it’s definitely picking a character! i have such trouble picking just one of my favourites because i want to give them all love! and when it comes to writing fics i struggle with starting things off. i tend to get ideas of a specific scene in the middle of the story and have to build around that one scene so it makes the beginnings and endings a bit tricky.

4. what is the proudest/most inspirational moment you've experienced in creating so far?

i’ve had many moments but if i had to choose just one it’d be when i created my royal au series as it pushed me to my limits in terms of creativity and how much i could write. i’ve never written as much as i have for that series and i’m really proud of myself

5. as a queer creator yourself, what was your experience as a content creator? what keeps you going?

i’ve had a lot of ups and downs when it comes to writing as a queer person whether it be due to people questioning my identity or just blatant homophobia. there are times too where it has definitely felt a bit lonely as someone who writes a substantial amount of queer fanfic or at least enough to where i’m know for writing such fics, however i’ve managed to find and make a small community of other queer writers which is really important to me. they’re definitely what keeps me going and so are my readers. i’ve received some very lovely comments on my work that really just motivate me to keep going and remind me why i write what i do even when i feel discouraged

6. where do you find your muse to start creating? what inspires you?

i started writing as a kid and always loved to insert myself into whatever piece of media i was currently fixated on. i didn’t take things too seriously when i was younger and it was very much just a hobby back then but it has now evolved into a passion that allows me to express my innermost feelings even if it’s through writing anime x reader fics. i still am very much inspired by self inserting through my current fixations but it has shifted more towards inserting in the name of representation. while i’ve been a bit too busy as of late to delve into writing longer fanfics, last year i wrote two fics which centred heavily around readers experiencing mental health issues as well as compulsory heterosexuality because these are things that i’ve found to be not so readily spoken about outside of online spaces. i really do enjoy using fanfiction and writing in general to explore things that are considered taboo in a slightly unconventional way

7. do you have any advice for any first-time content creators?

don’t put so much pressure on yourself! i think due to the commodification of hobbies, there’s this idea that if we write or make art that it must be mass produced but what makes art special is that it’s one of a kind! so if you’re a first time writer/artist on tumblr, don’t force yourself to creator in the hopes of appeasing others! create because you’re inspired and because you’re having fun! also, don’t let others ruin your fun!!!! i think that’s the most important thing, block liberally to protect your peace, use tumblrs filtering feature to hide anything that you dislike, and ignore those coming into your inbox looking to cause trouble!!! i definitely struggled with taking things to personally when i first started writing and it sucked the fun out of sharing my writing very quickly until i learned that i shouldn’t let others being negative and mean get in the way of my enjoyment

8. do you have any advice for anyone looking for a server/network to join?

hm, i think my biggest piece of advice would be don’t be scared! join servers and networks even if you don’t know the owners/mods super well! it can be super scary being in a new space with new people but i promise it’s well worth it! way back in 2021 i joined audrey’s very server not knowing anyone and have since join all the other iterations that came afterward because there was such love and care put into her servers (that are still there with the interstellar inn!) and have loved meeting so many new people who are in all kinds of different life paths. and for anyone reading this looking for a server or network to join i definitely think you should join the interstellar inn, theres so many fun events and watch parties being held that make the server a really fun space! and the network is very well organized and cared for that i’m in awe! and of course i would love to befriend any person reading this who ends up joining hehe

visit fawn's blog ( @dearbraus ) or check out their tag at the inn here!

that's all from us! see you next time and be sure to follow fawn and check out their works! <333

— cotton

edit: thank you to the anon who pointed out our oversight! we have since corrected it. fawn's pronouns are they/them. we deeply apologize for our mistake.

[kairoseas]

@toastedbarleytea said: Sukugo observing and learning about one another. Knowing and understanding one another so deeply. :)

"You tend to get on the surly side, huh?" Satoru smirks at the quick response he was provided, even when there's little information and thought put into the reply itself, evident in the short, curtness of it. Still, Satoru laughs to himself, resting his gaze on the god in human skin, who wasn't giving him the same regard in the least as their eyes were elsewhere, all four of them. "Y'know, it's fine to be less than happy about things." There's an indignant sound from Ryomen's lips, even whilst their closed and choosing not to function at the time, and Sukuna adjusts his eyes to roll them in a gesture of exasperation of such simplicities as conversation. "Yet you constantly come across as happy all the time, & I know it's not real. Why try to keep up appearances?"

"Me?" Now, it was Gojo's turn to look indignant, blinking at the other with a hum and a resting of his six eyes, lashes brushing against the skin of his cheeks as he closes them with a shrug of his shoulders. "Nah, not me. Being happy all the time is a good way to stress one out. I choose to be optimistic, sure, but it doesn't equate to being happy all the time." " ... Sure. " Ryomen responds, obviously not buying Satoru's words when he says them, four eyes drifting out to something on the horizon, something a fair distance away, unreachable to them in that moment. Satoru traces his gaze, looking to the horizon before he's provided the unique chance to look, rather, at his expression itself. It's not unhappy, but rather it seems to denote that he's almost wistful for something, a kind of feeling that Satoru's gotten from him since the moment that they met outside of battle. He was unsatisfied. He was wistful, a forlorn sense of yearning for something perceived as unattainable. From all the legends and stories he's heard as a child about Ryomen Sukuna, it never felt like something was out of his reach, rather that it would be that way for now, but not forever. Gojo, though, was in the unique position of being able to observe the god, and he's not sure if he's under scrutiny himself or if Sukuna's too caught up in thought to give him the same treatment. Then, he speaks again, something most would bypass due to the low volume, in a tone that doesn't indicate that he's speaking with the King of Curses in the least. "I don't believe I've ever been genuinely, wholly happy about anything. Simply content." News to Satoru! He folds his arms loosely, blinking at the revelation. Something he's never entertained but... something that, at the same time, seemed like something to be expected. Strength could only get you so far, and if anyone was aware of that, it was Gojo. He draws his lips into a thoughtful line, tilting his head at the mention; " Really? Nothing? What would make you happy?" "... Nothing." "What about reuniting with all of your fingers?" "When I do get them all, I will be back to my original power." Sukuna states it factually, not in the least entertaining the idea that he might not ever reach that state again. Satoru knows he's cunning in the worst ways, and knows he'll get what he wants if it takes another entire millennium to do so. "Even then, this world will become boring. Again; not happiness, simply a return to contentment at best. " "Seriously? I'm right here and you're blowing me off!" Satoru pipes up quickly, almost immediately as he advances on the King of Curses himself, entirely unafraid of him even in this state. Quirking a brow, all four eyes follow him as he moves, Satoru can feel their heavy weight on his form, from the creases in his clothes to the scrutiny to be made on the colors of his skin. "You expect me to just watch you do all of that? Aren't you giving me too little credit?" There's no reaction for a few moments, just staring from the creature in Itadori's body, before there's a growing amusement, as if he were entertaining a child's ideas. "Ah? What are you going to do? Kill me first?" He says it mockingly, as if that too was a childish whimsy. Satoru, though, takes it as fact, and he stands again at his full height with pride, a pride that has easily been proven time and time again, even if Sukuna wanted to treat it as less than a fact and more like a suggestion. "Maybe so." Satoru smirks himself, confident as he tilts his head and uses one should to shrug in his current position. "I'm still looking forward to a fight at the end, you know? I'm gonna be pissed if you belittle me by not even giving it your all!" "... Mm. " There he is, doing it again! But this time, the amusement is from genuine entertainment rather than pity. They were ... both looking forward to it. Inarguably, excitably, to challenge one another at the pinnacle of their power... it was a riveting idea. Fantastical, maybe, but exciting.

[noa-de-cajou]

"Worst", or Ether's Heartbreak Playlist Part Two

Mort, Cassandra and Nru belong to @corneille-but-not-the-author

Content warning for some nsfw, and a bunch of slutshaming as well as a lot of talk about accidents. And Leonova, as always-

It looks like a storm passed through here. It's just as quiet. I couldn't find the strength to clean up the broken plates so now I'm bandaging my bloody foot on the bathroom floor. Leonova's words are ringing through my head.

“You’re no better than me.”

“Where did all your pretty principles go, Ether?”

“I thought so. I knew it. I knew you were just a whore. You'd really do anything to get off, huh?”

“I’m sure Khaliun will be enchanted to know about this.”

“Oh, and don't even think about running away from me, or leaving, because if you do, then I'll make sure the whole hospital knows.”

Khaliun. She's going to tell Khaliun.

And I know it's not empty threats. The first time we broke up, I had to change banks because her dad owns the one I was originally in.

I guess I had it coming. If I had just been honest from the start, this wouldn’t be happening. It's just hard to be honest when the person you did something with keeps pretending nothing ever happened.

And maybe Khaliun wouldn’t have minded, but Leonova… Leonova would have killed me.

I almost thought that she was actually going to, earlier.

I feel like smashing those plates was almost worse.

(Write it in gold

It could be retold

But the ending gets old

They say you learn to know

When it's time to go

Like a sick joke)

I look everywhere for Pluton and end up finding him trembling under the couch. My poor baby. He looks terrified. I thought I was doing him a favor by taking him in but I guess I wasn't. I carry him to my room, get into bed. The bed where I made a dumb, stupid, idiot mistake.

It had started off relatively well. We were walking home from the cinema with Leo. We had argued after the movie, I don't remember why, then we made up just as quick. But the air was thick. Electric. I knew where it was going to end up. As soon as I closed the door, she pinned me against it, and one thing led to another, the clothes on my skin became fabric on the floor, it ended on the bed. The kisses were angry, the bites were hungry, the hands grabbed my thighs and dug into my flesh and I asked for more. With Leo, it's useless to try and take the advantage. I let myself go and I take. Which isn't something I hate doing at all, on the contrary.

But my mind was elsewhere. I wasn't mad anymore. I didn't want to be mad. And the images I thought I could repress and bury far, far away just took over. And it all got mixed up.

Into something far, far worse.

Oh I could be your friend

Or I could be on my back

I could beg or I could bully

I could brace you for impact

Red eyes lightning up with desire (Purple eyes upon me, a little blurred but full of want)

Fists tearing off my shirt (Soft hands under my sweater)

The noise of teeth biting on my piercings (Glasses falling from her nose and onto the table)

The same teeth under my jaw (Kisses on my neck)

Nails grazing and digging (Fingertips everywhere on my skin)

Short hair under my sweaty palm (Long dark hair falling from her shoulders and brushing my face)

And a whisper (among scattered breaths)

“My name. Say it. I want to hear you say it when you come.”

I wasn't sure who the voice belonged to. I just knew that I wanted to do as she said. I didn't know who “she” was anymore.

Who did I want the person above me to be?

I did exactly as I was asked. I said it.

Danger crushes, pushes my buttons, forces me to agree

Danger's a slut, it's in my gut, at night it whispers to me

""You fucking liar, your desire, baby bunny, come clean""

""You want me bad, you want me back, but you don't know what that means"”

It took me a while to get back to reality. But when I did, I nearly jumped.

Leonova's eyes were ice cold.

“Mort, huh?”

Couldn't have done a worse thing if I tried.

I could be a purity to ruin

Corrupt for you to restore

I could be anything anything anything

But yours

The wrong name.

All it took was the wrong fucking name. I barely had the time to get dressed before she started to yell. I didn’t want to lie, so I just blurted out everything. And now, here I am. Lying in bed, alone, everything ruined because of a single word.

Called in sick to work. I can't sleep but I close my eyes anyways. The functional one is burning. Wet with tears. Pluton meows sadly and curls up on my pillow. My sobs are louder than the purring.

It's 9am when my phone rings. Khaliun. Fuck. I pick up.

“Hi,” I say, my voice hoarse.

“Hey,” she says, her voice far away. “Leo came to my place. Said a bunch of stuff. About you…”

I listen to the rest of the words but I already know what's coming. I see the cliff collapsing and I'm standing right on it.

I wait for her to finish talking, then I whisper,

“It's true.”

On the other side of the line, there’s only silence.

I expected shouting, crying, something. Anything.

“... I’m gonna need some time to myself to think, Ether. Alone. Catch you later.”

Anything but this defeated, hollow voice.

This is so, so much worse.

Someday, someday

When I burst into flames

I'll leave you the dust, my love

Hope a bit of it'll be enough to help remember the

Days when we came to this place

I told you I'd spill my guts, I left you to clean it up

I'm burstin' out of the–

My phone dings. 7:15am. I haven't slept but I haven't moved from bed for hours. I kicked Pluton out some time ago because he kept chewing on my pillow. I hold out my hand, it feels like it's made of lead.

A text from Mort.

“Are you okay?”

Oh. Right. I haven’t been to work yesterday. I guess I worried her.

“I’m fine”

The reply is short. I don't have the energy for more. Let's just hope she won't dig too much into it.

Another ding.

“I'm in your building’s lobby. I just got out of guard duty. Will you allow me to come up?”

I freeze. What do you mean she's downstairs? Freshly out of guard? Shit. Shit…

I can't hide this from her, can I?

I guess I can’t run away from this one. And…

And I feel so alone.

“Door’s open. If you wanna”

There. I put down my phone again.

Soon enough there's a knock at the door. I sit up on the bed, clear my throat.

“You can come in…”

My voice sounds terrible. She’s gonna be furious. Well. I had it coming.

I guess it could be worse.

Dancing slowly in an empty room

Can the lonely take the place of you?

I sing myself a quiet lullaby

Let you go and let the lonely in

To take my heart again

I open the door to the living room. My foot hurts when I put it down. Mort's here. Holding Pluton. Looking straight at the broken plate on the floor.

“Hey… Careful, you’ll hurt yourself.”

My voice is foreign. Every time I speak a word, it feels like I’m wasting air. It’s worse when I breathe.

Mort turns around, her eyes fall upon me. She doesn't say anything. But I know she sees everything. My messy, dirty hair. My swollen eye. My worn-out clothes. My bandaged foot. She looks so exhausted too. And yet all she asks is if I have something to clean up the debris.

Why isn't she commenting on how I look? Of how much of a fuck-up I am?

Hah. Who am I kidding. She already knows that. She’s the one who found me in that morgue and I'm the one who behaved like a desperate slut. She knows I'm a mess. She just pretends not to.

I'm the ghost of a girl that I want to be most

I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well

“Leo… Leo knows. About us. About what happened in the morgue.”

Mort turns around.

I can't look at her. I can't do anything but apologize. She must be disappointed. She must be furious.

“Ether. Can you come closer, please ?”

I obey. She might hit me. Throw another plate at me. I’d deserve it. After everything I put her through, I wouldn’t blame her. I've been awful. If it makes her feel better, I’d let her do anything, I’d-

She wraps her arms around me. Holds me tight. When the confusion passes, I realize that she’s shaking. She’s not mad. She’s scared. She has so much more to lose than I do. Her job. Her income. Her reputation. Everything. She’s trying to comfort me but she's holding onto me more than she’s actually holding me. So I hug her back. Softly. I let a few tears escape.

I need to be strong. To be here for her. Even if I may be the worst thing that ever happened to her.

Too afraid to go inside

For the pain of one more loveless night

But the loneliness will stay with me

And hold me 'til I fall asleep

We sit on the couch discussing what to do. There’s not much we can do, to be honest. I can only wait for Khaliun to get back to me, and Leo…

Mort tells me it's an agression. What happened. But I asked for it, didn’t I? I deserved it. For what I did. And yet…

And yet I still don't regret what happened that day. Not in the slightest. I’m happy Mort was the one to come looking for me. And I don't wanna lose her too.

When I say that, I can see her tense up even more. Trying to hold it together. Trying so hard to fix everything.

But she's not the one who broke that plate. Why should she cut herself on the pieces? It’s my responsibility. Not hers. I should be helping. She's the one getting dragged into this mess because of me, because of us.

And when I tell her there's no better moment to let go, to finally show how she really feels, I can see the mask break. I can see the pieces fall. The way her face deforms under the tears that she finally lets out of her eyes. It breaks my heart. It breaks my heart to see her like this because I know I did this.

Yet I hold her. I hold her in my arms and cradle her and say that I'll find a way, that everything will be okay, that we will be okay.

I barely believe my own words.

Broken pieces of

A barely breathing story

Where there once was love

Now there's only me

And the lonely

I blast AC/DC in Mort’s car on the way back to the hospital. She lowers the volume. We joke around a little. Like everything’s normal, somehow. Like she hasn't been crying in my arms and eating my omelette that tasted like tears on my couch. Like I'm not dressed up with my worst clothes. Like we're not sitting right on our mistakes. Our one-hour mistake in the morgue. The greatest mistake I've ever made. The worst blessing I could ever receive.

I'm on the highway to hell

Highway to hell

I'm on the highway to hell

Highway to hell

Don't stop me

Damn right we’re on the highway to hell. But when I look at Mort, at her puffy and tired eyes, I think that the devil has some twisted sense of humor to bring her down with me. When my jokes make her smile, I feel like it pushes the fire a little further away from us. Away from this car. But fire catches and it's going to reach us once we stop.

And eventually, we have to stop.

Mort parks the car. We stay silent. She avoids my gaze. I’m scared. Some dumb part of me thinks about reaching out to hold her hand, but I know it’s a bad idea. Is it for my own comfort or for hers? I don’t know anymore. The closer we get to Salem’s office, the more knots I get in my stomach. When we get there, she asks me to leave. I obey.

Mort still won’t look at me, even as I leave and close the door.

It’s fine. That's normal. They need me in the unit. But I want her to need me a little too. It’s so fucking dumb. Selfish to bout. This isn't just about your little ego, Ether.

A voice rings painfully in the back of my head. It sounds like Leonova's.

“You’re the worst.”

My face is full of spiderwebs, all tender, yellow, blue

And still with one eye open, well, all I see is you

I left my daydreams at the gate because I just can't take 'em too

Know my heart still has a suitcase, but I still can't take it through

I go back to work. Talk with some patients who just had an abortion. Some of them need to talk about contraception, so that it doesn’t happen again in the future. Some need to eat, or cry a little, say that it wasn't the right time yet but that they wanted it, they wanted it so much. I listen to them, I say kind words, I'm back into my area of expertise. They need a doctor. They need someone professional. That I can be, despite everything.

When I'm done, I go get some coffee. The lack of sleep is really catching up to me, but it’s barely 4pm, can’t go dozing off now.

Then Salem comes back, jaw clenched, face pale. Never saw her like that. Did the talk with Mort go wrong?

“Welcome back. You okay?”

She stops right on front of me, inhales sharply.

“Ether. Mort’s in the ER. She got into a car accident.”

…

Mort. In an accident.

(It was an accident)

Mort in the ER.

(Coma for three days)

Mort. Hurt. Injured. Maybe badly.

(I’m sorry, the boy –)

Salem’s words barely reach my ears.

“She probably fell asleep on the drive back. I should have brought her home, I knew she was exhausted.”

Exhausted.

Exhausted because I worsened every situation she was in. Exhausted because I couldn't repress the thoughts in front of Leonova. Exhausted because I dragged her into my problems.

Exhausted because of me.

(Because you couldn't hold yourself back)

This is all because of me.

(You never change, do you?)

Because of me because of me because of me because of me

(It’s your fault)

Things always get worse when I'm around always always always

(You shouldn't have survived.)

My

Left Arm

Hurts

There's a dry thump and a splash when my goblet drops to the floor.

Then everything goes dark.

Black hole opened in the kitchen

Every clock's a different time

It would only take the energy to fix it

I don't know why I am

The way I am

It's dark. It's cold.

I can't breathe. My words only come out in silent bubbles. My arm hurts.

I try to swim back to the surface but something’s weighing me down. Something pulls me deeper into the Abyss. Someone holding my left hand barely hanging onto itself.

I turn my head. It’s him. But it's not just him. It’s also Dal. Leonova. All with the same accusatory stare.

Don’t. Don’t look at me like that. I know. I know that everyone would be happier if I had been the one to die. But I wasn't.

And now I want to go up to the light but you won’t let me.

Their faces all mix into one. Purple hair, piercings, freckles, a fake eye. Soon-to-be seventeen year-old Ether, looking into my eyes with so much anger and so much fear.

I know. I know. I don’t want to die either. I’m sorry I can’t help you swim back up.

All I can do is hold you to ease the pain.

I am drowning

There is no sign of land

You are coming down with me

Hand in unlovable hand

And I hope you die

I hope we both die

But there’s hands. Reaching out through the water surface. Grabbing me. Pulling me (us) out into the sunlight. Faces, smiling, worried. The light blinds me, their faces are blurry, but I can hear their voices. Some sound like my parents. Or my sister. Another sounds like Doctor Claro. Like Salem.

Like Khaliun or Mort.

I can’t say anything. Everything hurts. My face is wet with cold water and hot tears.

But I breathe. And breathe. And breathe.

The worst thing is that I think I'm smiling.

I'm not ready to face it

Don't go saying goodbye

There's a beauty in changes

And I wanna try

“Ether. Ether, can you hear me?”

My eyes shoot open. Salem’s face hovers over me, a worried expression twisting the corners of her mouth. I'm laying down on my side on what I think is the guard room bed. Salem sighs deeply.

“Thank god. You really scared me there.”

“What…happened…?” I try to ask, weakly.

“You collapsed in the hallway, that's what happened. I think you lost consciousness for a few minutes.”

Oh. Only a few minutes?

“That’s it. Both you and Mort need a break from all this. You’re getting the week off.”

“But… Leo… She’ll come to my flat…”

“I’m taking you to my house. There’s more than enough room and I'm not taking no for an answer. Understood?”

I nod. Too tired to protest. The worst is that I don't really want to.

And there's nothing I can do

Not much I can change

So, I give it up to you

I hope that's okay

There's nothing I can do

Not much I can change

I give it up to you, I surrender

I wake up in the evening in an unknown bed, Pluton curled up at my feet, my bag on the floor. A ceiling with an old, kitsch lampshade hanging greets me. Salem’s house really feels like a grandma’s. I’m grateful she drove me home first to get my stuff and my cat.

I've been having nightmares. I don’t feel too rested, but I get up. I need to get busy.

Shower taken, clothes changed, I walk into the living-room. Salem’s there.

But not alone. There’s three cups of tea on the coffee table.

Cassandra and Nru are sitting on the couch. They both look awful. Cassandra’s eyebags are eating up her face and she stares blankly at her drink while Nru seems like she has stopped crying only a few minutes ago. They raise their heads to look at me and there's a sudden pang of guilt in my chest.

“G-Good evening,” Nru sniffles.

“Hi, Ether,” Cassandra mutters in echo.

Fuck. Their voices sound so tired. Can't blame them. Their mother’s in the hospital, and…

(You should have been in that car)

…

I’m sorry, it should have been me

I’m sorry, it should have been me

“Hi, girls. I’m… really sorry.”

They both stare at me in confusion. Right. Of course. They wouldn't know what caused that accident.

Salem clears her throat.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. I’m just… going back to work. Need to keep busy.”

She frowns.

“Ether, it’s nine in the evening, what did I tell you about resting–”

“If I don’t go, who will stay with Mort?”

I blurted out the words. Salem’s eyes widen in surprise as I keep going.

“I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up.”

(Like I woke up alone and confused and scared and cold)

“Please. I’ll promise I'll go rest afterwards, just let me do this. I beg you.”

She looks at me pensively for a while, then sighs.

“Well. Do as you like. It’s not like I can stop you. But if you overwork yourself again, then you’ll hear about it. Are we clear?”

“We are,” I reply as I get my coat on.

“Hey… Miss Ether?”

I turn around to look at Nru.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Her smile is faint, but genuine. I smile too. Hoping that it doesn't show how much I wanna cry.

“You're welcome. I’ll take good care of her. Promise. You two rest easy, okay?”

I put my shoes on, close the door behind me. Fresh air. I breathe in, and out. It’s okay. It’s okay. I need to be strong.

I pull out my phone to see the itinerary. There's a text from Leonova.

“Well? Not answering your door anymore? Scared of the consequences of your actions, honey?”

Of course she came back. But this time, I'm not scared. I’m angry. So I text back.

“I have better things to do than talk to you right now.”

It’s not like this shit can get any worse.

My undying love, now I hold it like a grudge

And I hear your voice every time that I think I'm not enough

There isn't much to do in the gynaecology unit. One of my colleagues is already on guard duty. She looked surprised to see me. Apart from tidying a few tools and files, I quickly find myself with nothing on my hands. So I go to Mort’s room after asking at the reception.

My hand is shaking on the handle as I push it down. Afraid of what I might find. Yet I've seen horrible things. Corpses. Infected genitals. Crying teenagers. But suddenly, this is what I'm afraid of.

She's… asleep. Her body is covered in little cuts, probably due to the glass shattering. There’s a bandage on her forehead, probably where they had to stitch her up. She's pale, but her hand is warm when I take it. I look at her closed eyelids. The purplish eyebags under them. The bruises on her skin. I can still smell the blood on her, but she looks so peaceful.

A nurse comes in around midnight, tells me the details. Minor concussion. A few stitches. No fractures, a miracle. No surgery needed, either. That's a relief.

She asks me if I want to stay for the night, I say yes, I'll just sleep in a chair. She smiles and nods before leaving. I'm grateful for that. A lot of nurses would have just kicked me out.

I focus my attention on Mort again. Her hair is spread out messily on the pillow. She usually takes such good care of it, it's weird to see. They'll get damaged if I leave it like that… But she's asleep and… well. Nothing much to lose here.

I slowly gather up her hair, take a few strands in my hands. She doesn't wake up. Good. I start to bread the hair, gently. It’s dusty, there's dried blood in it still, but I can at least make it look pretty. It takes me a while since her hair is super long, but the result isn’t too bad. She hasn't moved an inch during the whole process. It's almost scary. I push some hair away from her forehead. Hesitate.

Fuck it.

I lean down and kiss it, right next to the bandage. Her skin is warm under my lips. Then I whisper in her ear.

“Hey. You better wake up soon. We’re waiting for you.”

She should be out of danger. But she’s so still and pale. Maybe she doesn’t want to wake up, and I couldn't blame her. But I don't want her to go just yet.

I can't think of anything worse than her dying right now.

This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow

If it weren't for you, I'd be here all alone

I know in my heart this is where we belong

This world is a wasteland

Don't let me go, go, go, go, go, go, go

A hand is caressing my hair. Softly. It’s nice. My neck hurts, must have fallen asleep…

Wait. Mort.

I open my eyes. She’s here. Looking at me. Smiling faintly. And her fingers are still in my hair.

“... Mort?”

I blink, to make sure that I'm not dreaming. She doesn’t disappear. Her eyes are moving to mine. She's here.

“You're awake,” I whisper. I could cry with relief.

She has a little, unusual laugh.

“The morphine has to still be in effect… I feel way too good.”

It makes me laugh too. At least she's not in pain. I slowly sit up, rubbing my eye, and suddenly she grabs my hand, sitting upright in the bed, fear glinting in her eyes.

“You’re… You're staying… aren’t you?”

I…

I don't think I've ever seen her like this before.

I put my other hand, my fake one, on top of hers. Even if it can't feel much. This time I don't have to force a smile.

“I'm not going anywhere. Promise.”

She sighs. Falls back against the mattress. She looks better. The fact that she’s moving and talking and breathing helps.

We talk. She asks me what happened. The other driver. Bazyli. Didn't think I’d see him again after all this time. I just tell her he’s okay. She wants to look at herself in a mirror, so I give her the pocket one I use to fix my make-up when I wear any. She looks at herself for a while, then says, with a lot of irony,

“Well, I have quite the good profile.”

She does. She's still beautiful. But that wouldn’t be really appropriate to say, would it? For now, I'm just glad that she's here. Talking. Even if we're gonna have to discuss what happened eventually, it’s still something. I smile. I joke around. She’s too tired to deal with it, but she doesn't hold it against me.

She isn't mad at me. It’s more than I can ask for. So I try to push down the feelings. At least for a while. I can't, shouldn’t want more than this, and yet I do. Even as everything is still going to shit and the end to our problems is still so far away. Even as I'm the cause of all this, I don’t want to ever let go of her hand.

Heh. I really am the worst, huh?

If you changed anything, would you not have survived?

You're alive, you're alive, you're alive

And I know you don't remember calling me

But I told you, even then you looked so pretty

In your hospital bed

I remember you said you were scared

And so am I.

Songs in order of appearance :

Sick Joke – Xana

I Can Be Your Mother – Sofia Isella

Cacao and Cocaine – Sofia Isella

Ashley – Halsey

The lonely – Christina Perri

Highway to hell – AC/DC

clementine – Halsey

Not Strong Enough – boygenius

No Children – The Mountain Goats

Wasteland – Royal and the Serpent

Heat lightning – Mitski

Should Have Been Me – Mitski

the grudge – Olivia Rodrigo

The 30th – Billie Eilish

[xhellkittyx]

I was looking for the perfect pigtails for a sim I'm making, and found your recolors of S-Club's Yosi on TSR. But when I tried to download them, it told me I needed to log in with a VIP subscription. I thought that was weird, since I never had that problem before when downloading your recolors. So I checked out your main page. I did not know about TSR pulling some bullshit, since I don't use it often. I don't have an account because I've never needed one. And the second I saw that you were leaving, I tried to follow your links. They are all outdated and dead ends. It was extremely hard to find you after that. The name change makes sense why all the links are dead. But they are also outdated on your pinned post here on Tumblr. I'll follow you here because I love your work. Nobody else has such brilliant and vibrant colors and rainbows in their hairs. I'm hoping your links get sorted out so I can follow you elsewhere as well. I wish you all the best in your future endeavors.

And if you ever repost the Yosi retexture, please let me know! Because there's no way in hell I'm signing up for TSR, much less paying for VIP when they've become such dirtbags.

Hello 😊

Sorry for such an late response, normally I try to respond to people somewhat fast. But Since the stuff with TSR I have been on hiatus (which ended up being a bit longer than planned 😂)

Thank you for reminding me about my outdated links, I had totally forgotten about that, and ill make sure to update them soon 😊 I plan on starting to release content again soon. I'm currently working on fixing up some of my old content to give it some new (and much needed) life.

Some of my old content I will take with me, but, for my hair retextures, I will need to follow the Terms of Use for each original creator (can't be stepping on anyones toes ya know). And some creators only allow recolors to be uploaded to TSR. If I remember correctly. S-Club is one of those who only allow recolors of their work to be uploaded to TSR, so sadly its not much i can do about that. Although, i will make sure to double check creators Terms of Use and see what i can "take with me".

I will start uploading my content to Patreon and CurseForge

And thank you so much for loving my content 🥰 This was a nice message to come back to 😊

Have a lovely day or night 🐾

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy Bonus Content: Las Vegas GP Grid Interviews

This marks one of the final bonus content bits for the Prophecy that I originally wrote for the series! I wanted to explore what other people attending the GP would have to say, as a lot of big moments happen during the week of the Las Vegas GP - some that you saw and some that happened 'off screen' if you will :)

November 21, 2026

[F1 Sports interviews celebrities attending Las Vegas GP] “We’ve got Louis Tomlinson here with us, today. First of all, what an exciting surprise performance just last Wednesday!”

“Yeah it was good fun, really happy I got to support Y/N here. We haven’t actually performed on stage together all that often, so it was nice but also I was shitting myself beforehand, not gonna lie.”

“Have you performed elsewhere together, then?”

“She likes a good karaoke bar, that’s all,” Louis elaborates with a smile. “I cannot confirm or deny having footage of a very convincing performance of “Believe” by Cher.”

“Oh my – well, you’ve put it out in the world now. What’s your go-to karaoke song?”

He narrows his eyes in thought. “Hmm that’s hard! Maybe “I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing”, Aerosmith? A classic, a classic”

“You certainly won’t wanna miss a thing this race weekend – it’s really shaping up to be a tense race. Who are you rooting for this week? Rumor has it that fellow Brit Lando Norris is your favorite?”

Louis snorts and lets out an awkward laugh. “Oh wow, word travels fast huh? I think he’s got a lot to prove, to be honest. Charles happens to be the other driver that I know quite well, personally, so I’m always rooting for him.”

“Speaking of him, when are we finally getting a collaboration between the two of you? You love a good piano ballad, don’t you?”

He grins, “I think for those type of things you kinda need the element of surprise.”

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

“Simone! How exciting to see you here in Las Vegas. You’ve been so supportive of F1 over the past years.”

“Of course, I’m super happy to get to be here – thank you to Levi’s and McLaren for getting me in,” she jokes.

“Who are you rooting for this time?”

“McLaren obviously is looking very strong on track, they’ve been performing well this season. It’d be really cool to see them achieve a double podium.”

“Is there anything else you’re looking forward to? You recently hosted SNL and had Y/N L/N as the musical guest, who performed here just last Wednesday. Word is that she’s back for the race today. Have you run into her yet?”

Simone seems a little startled at the question. “I eh- I don’t know. It’s funny, SNL was the first time I’d met her and she’s so lovely! She’s so talented, I was actually bummed that I missed out on her performance earlier this week. So it’d be great to run into each other again.”

“Did you talk about Formula One at all?”

She laughs. “No, we didn’t. There’s more in life than that, even though it never feels like it on a day like today.”

“More like a night like tonight! What do you love most about the Vegas track?”

“Just the overall atmosphere – it’s a city where anything can happen, on and off the track.”

“You’d know more about it than we do!”

“I’m not so sure, actually.”

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

“Well this certainly is a surprise, Sabrina Carpenter everyone. How are you doing?”

“Honestly? I think I feel about as well as you can feel in Las Vegas after having done all the Las Vegas things.”

“All of them? Including a shotgun wedding with an Elvis impersonator?”

She shrugs and winks at the camera. “No comment.”

“You arrived just in time for your friend’s performance at the opening ceremony, how was that?”

“It was so amazing! Y/N asked us to fly out to support her and make this into a little girls trip, and who am I to say no to that? She did great, and I’m really happy for her. The Prophecy is probably honestly my favourite work of hers.”

“Wow, big compliments there from Sabrina! Is this your first F1 race that you’ll be attending?”

She smirks and shakes her head. “I’ve been before. Different team, though, of course.”

“No papaya for you this time?”

“You know, it turns out I’m quite sensitive to them, so I think it’s best for everyone if I stick to Alpine for now. You can’t not love the French, after all.”

“Or the flirty Argentinian driving their cars.”

Sabrina smiles. "No comment."