#same goes for the fingerless gloves

[motherhenna]

Even though my gaming laptop is dead and I can't replay Oblivion rn, I've decided to design a new Hero of Kvatch anyway that fits into the same universe as my other heroes. And since my Nerevarine and Dragonborn are both women, I figured I should buck the pattern and throw a guy in there lol. His whole vibe was equally inspired by both ancient greek / roman busts and Moses from Dreamwork's Prince of Egypt.

I've always liked the trope of blind characters with the ability of precognition, which is what I decided to explore with Aurelius--likely the result of an ill-advised bargain with Clavicus Vile on his father's part. The man wanted himself and members of his family to be "noticed and recognized by those in power", though failed to foresee that this would apply to more than just kings and nobles. In fact, turns out that drawing the curious eyes of several Daedric princes isn't ideal for the wellbeing of your unborn child, and Azura's boon of prophecy doesn't exactly play nice with bouts of madness and delusion...party favors from Sheogorath and Vaermina.

Haven't fleshed him or the story out much, yet, but y'all know how I am: always happy to add another softboy to my roster lmao I promise I know how to draw / write men who aren't in some way soft but can't say I'm interested in doing that

[dadsbongos]

local adventurers get body swapped and fuck sloppy style

2.5 K words / warnings - unprotected pinv sex, fem body for reader, oral (m+f receiving), slight choking, pwp, not super proofread

summary - something something marcille and senshi need medicinal herbs… its not important. you and chilchuck and laios get it on in each other's bodies

~~~

“Laios, I don’t know if you should touch those…”

“He definitely shouldn’t!”

Laios touches the vibrant orange flower petals, grazing his fingertips from the outer curl towards the neon yellow stigma, “I think if I press right here, then…”

“Laios!” Chilchuck shrieks at the same time you gasp, “No!”

A yellow powder spews from the now gaping stigma, clogging Laios’ entire head. In your shared panic to rescue the man, you and Chilchuck also inhale traces of the pollen. It tastes unexpectedly sweet, like ripe apples fresh from their tree -- it’s also incredibly disorienting. Head spinning and throat tight, you’re forced to clench your eyes while stumbling for either of the familiar bodies you’d arrived with.

You find one -- cold metal flattening your palm, though it’s strange -- what you’re touching is only the waist of Laios’ cuirass, but you’re reaching up. Your fingers just barely graze the lip of his arm opening.

Certain you’re not kneeling, and now uncertain that you’re sane, you open your eyes to gaze into the beaming reflection of… yourself. But this version of you has her hands skimming down her sides, nails biting the pouch over your tummy.

Glancing up, you find brown fingerless gloves covering your hand. You also find that you have to really stretch your neck to look up at Laios, who is staring down at you with a disturbed flinch.

“Laios?”

It's your own voice that heeds, “Yeah?”

Slowly, you swing your(?) head to face yourself, eyes wide, “Laios?”

“Yeah?”

With an uncertain, shivery hand, you point up at the armored blonde, “Chilchuck…?”

Laios’ voice whispers back your name before gently pleading, “Get out of my body…”

“I don’t know how!” you wail, tugging on brown hair just to feel the sting that confirms this isn’t some horrible nightmare, “Laios, what’d you do?!”

“If you squeeze this flower right, then it goes into self-defense mode and releases a pollen-like substance that switches people’s souls and bodies. Pretty neat, right?” his excitement with the flower is interrupted by a more carnal curiosity, “Can I feel?” he hovers your own hands over your chest and makes a squeezing motion, “I wonder if they’re as squishy as they look?”

“Sure…”

“Yay,” he murmurs, immediately latching to your chest, “Your breasts are so soft, and warm.”

“Thanks,” your naturally gentle tonation sounds odd, dissonant with Chilchuck’s agitated and shrill voice.

“Don’t let him fondle you!” Chilchuck, bizarrely, sounds natural in Laios’ body. Loud and resolute, “That’s so inappropriate!”

“I don’t mind, Chilchuck, really.”

“And don’t say my name with my own voice!”

“Sorry…”

“I wonder how you feel inside.”

Disturbed, you and Chilchuck’s heads turn toward where Laios continues to grope your (his?) chest -- his breaths shortening to gasps and lip sucked between his teeth.

“What’d you just say?” Chilchuck points a shaky finger at Laios.

If Laios finds looking himself in the face strange, he makes no indication. Merely beaming at Chilchuck in his body and shrugging while squeezing your boobs, “Isn’t it so cool that just pollen can swap us so perfectly? Why wouldn’t we try to explore each other’s bodies in a situation like this?”

Chilchuck’s embarrassment makes Laios’ cheeks flare red hot, an annoyed huff spiking past his clenched teeth, “It’ll only make things worse for the party in the long run! Inter-party romance is a terrible idea!”

“It’s not romance, just investigation.”

Before a punch can be thrown from the flustered Chilchuck, you lay a lithe hand on either man’s shoulder (pushing into the back of your mind how strange it is to call a hand smaller than your own yours), “Laios, you have to see how strange that sounds to people not as… curious as you.”

“But I’ve always wanted to know how your bodies work,” Laios frowns, “I get that we’re all humans, so it's basically the same thing and not as interesting, but when it comes to you two I just can’t help it. I want to know how soft your mouths are and how your joints roll in action,” he then peers specifically at Chilchuck, batting your lashes pathetically, “Especially your body, Chil, since I rarely see you do more than deactivate traps.”

“That’s because that’s my job! I don’t fight!”

“Chilchuck, he’s not judging you,” you move the hand on his shoulder down to his hand, Laios’ large palm massively overwhelming Chilchuck’s -- you’re captivated by the difference, “If Laios had a problem with you not fighting, I’m sure you wouldn’t still be in the party.”

“I just want to know how you both feel,” you could cringe at the sound of your voice saying something so naughty, but for the sake of Laios’ feelings you don’t, “Inside and out.”

“Did you consider how that’d be for us? Having to look our own faces in their face during something like that.”

“Like what? I just want to poke,” Laios stretches your fingers with a wiggle, “Maybe some fingering.”

That’d be more believable if Laios wasn’t such a terrible liar, his tells making your back straightening impossibly and knees buckling. Laios starkly dodges both yours and Chilchuck’s scrutinizing stares.

“We know you better than that. You’ll wanna go all out,” despite your inclination to give Laios the benefit of doubt, you’re forced to nod alongside Chilchuck’s accusation.

“Is that so bad?”

Is it?

You’re not as anatomically intrigued as Laios (at least pretends to be), but you can’t lie to yourself and say the men aren’t attractive. Laios is beefy yet kind, piercing amber eyes and soft blonde hair -- his arms look perfect for holding you down as he impales you with his cock. Chilchuck is slight and nimble, big brown eyes with thick lashes and silver hairs sprinkled through brown locks -- his dominable frame would be easy to ride until he’s got tears in his eyes and pleas flowing from his fussy lips.

“I don’t think so,” you move, stepping over to Laios’ side, “I think it could be worth a try.”

“No way!” Chilchuck glares at you for your betrayal, “There is no chance I’d ever do something so depraved!”

.

.

.

“This is so weird…” Chilchuck whines from Laios’ throat, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sight before him.

You, in Chilchuck’s own body, knelt beside Laios occupying your body as you both lick over his flushed erection. Laios seems to show no shyness, eagerly teasing your soft lips across his skin until he’s tonguing the underside. Meanwhile, you’ve got the smoldering head twitching on your tongue -- suckling softly before releasing your lips with a pop and laving the side with attention. Eventually, Laios bores of kitten licks and lowers towards the balls, giving you room to suck his penis into your mouth fully.

Chilchuck winds a hand, larger than he’s used to controlling, through your hair, peeking under his spare arm to watch Laios abuse your likeness. Blinking sweetly and humming while warming his own nuts with gurgled saliva. With advanced hearing, you can make out even the minute sound of Laios’ inferior gag reflex choking on his own balls.

You can also make out the deep rumble of Chilchuck panting and swallowing around his own arousal, lodged in his throat. Hoping to coax out the desire, you relax your gullet and bury your nose against flaxen pubes, making Chilchuck shudder and buck further into your throat.

“Oh, fuck,” he sighs, squeezing tighter around brown hair and shaking out your head before wrenching you back, “Wanna fuck your face.”

If you didn’t want him to as well, you’d be busy pointing out how your face is really his.

Instead, you moan eagerly and let your mouth hang open. Digging blunt nails into the handles on his hips for leverage as Chilchuck snaps into your gaping, velvety mouth. Spit gurgles past the rim of your lips, your sudden super hearing picking up every soft, throaty groan that spills from his chest. Despite his every effort to drown the sounds in kisses with Laios, you hear it -- you even hear how their lips mesh above your head.

Silky moans let out by your own voice, it’s startling. And arousing. Which makes it even more startling.

Chilchuck gasps and huffs abruptly, pulling you back to beat his cock against your puffy, raw lips. His whole body scrunches as broken, spotty moans dribble through him, shooting cum down your throat -- though having to bury his face into Laios’ neck (technically your neck) to avoid seeing his own face swallowing his seed.

With your own voice, heady and ragged with lust, Laios sprawls to the ground with spread legs, “I’m so hot,” he brainlessly bucks up against his roaming hand, eyes snapping to you, “How do you live like this?”

“I’m not horny all the time, Laios!”

Completely bypassing your protest, as per usual, Laios whimpers and undoes your trousers -- tickling a trembling finger down his (your) slit, “I need someone in me, please, please?”

You and Chilchuck stare at each other for a short while, silently debating who would be the one -- with newfound stamina in Laios’ body, Chilchuck could theoretically do it if he felt so greedy. Thankfully, he does not, and reclines beside Laios before pressing kisses into his neck while yanking you over by the belt. With eyes closed, he expertly undoes the pants to pull your brand new cock out.

Calloused, yet warm, hands stroke along your shaft in slow pumps before feeding your (his) tip into Laios.

Yours and Laios’ inexperience at the shared sensation is abundant in how you’re both gasping, sweat-slick messes. Laios wiggles further onto your cock, keening and back arching at the intrusion, while your hands are clammy and shaking on his hips. Your eyes can only stray as high as the breasts before things feel… weird… so you choose instead to obsess over the sight of your cock sliding in and out of a soaked cunt. Messy slick glinting in the sunlight, face melting with need, and all rational thought sucked into the tight clench of Laios.

Whining and leisurely thrusting into Laios, you close your eyes to fully absorb the sensations around you. Still, your heightened hearing can pick up the downright obscene gush of your sloppy, wet cunt being fucked open.

Chilchuck lays beside Laios, making you flinch at the unseen act of tracing his fingers around your cock in Laios to gather the splashing wetness before swirling the sodden pads into Laios’ clit.

“Ah!” your voice spikes, Laios grabbing Chilchuck’s wrist as if he could use your dwindling might to bat off his own strength. Chilchuck grins despite himself and continues abusing the bundle of nerves as desperation makes your drilling speed up. Laios wails and bunts eager hips to meet your thrusts, “Ah, ah, ah, ah- so good! This feels amazing!”

Laios presses the hand not clutching Chilchuck’s against your tummy, fingers prodding where cock batters his insides. Huffy little fuck, fuck, oh fucks leaving pouty, raw-bitten lips.

“Does it feel good?” Chilchuck laughs at you both, his sarcasm only being met with varied, broken ‘uh-huh’ responses. A thought brews in his following silence before he reaches up with a spare hand, “How about this, then?”

Suddenly, Laios’ large hand is wrapped around your neck, pressuring the sides to make your head spin.

Oh.

Oh that shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

Sudden restricted air pushes your hammering hips into overdrive, gut fizzling and tightening until you’re certain you’ll combust from the inside. You squeeze bruises into your own hips as you slam into Laios’ pliant body.

“Oh my God,” he suddenly wails from your mouth, “I think I’m- fuck! - am I?” his breath hitches, eyes wide and thighs cinching around your pumping hips, “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it, then,” Chilchuck snides with lips still pressed to Laios’ neck, rudely pinching his clit, “Cum for us.”

“I’m cumming,” he babbles, throwing his head back, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

Laios’ complete lack of will obliterates your own, the intense milking of his orgasm around you practically pulling cum from your cock. You gasp under Chilchuck’s choking while stuffing Laios full.

As soon as you’ve pulled Chilchuck’s softening cock out, Laios darts a hand down to finger your abused cunt. Puffy lips parting around curious fingers, thighs twitching at the unwelcomed overstimulation. Mixed cum leaks onto his digits before he accidentally brushes a thumb over his own clit, sending his thighs clenching around his hand as he forces another orgasm from your body.

You blink, suddenly much drowsier than before, and when you open your eyes you’re on the ground. With twitching, aching thighs and a hand between your legs.

Before you can acclimate to the realization you’re returned to your proper body, large hands are spreading your thighs again. Laios dives in, much too excited, and licks along your slit with a seedy groan and pinched brows. As if he’s deriving pure pleasure from sucking your combined release out of your pussy. If anything, the unadulterated oddity and grossness confirms that Laios is, in fact, back in his own body.

“I remember you were needing a little something, big guy,” Chilchuck tiredly slumps against Laios’ side, reaching below the belt to tug Laios’ hardening cock, “Guess you do have a lot of stamina.”

“I wanted to taste it on my fingers before we switched back, but now I can have it on my real tongue,” Laios deliriously giggles, “How lucky is that?”

You’re given no pause to respond before he’s returning to tongue-fucking your spasming hole.

Chilchuck presses lazy kissing along Laios’ flushed skin, jostled slightly when Laios abruptly sits straight, bucking his hips into Chilchuck’s fist as he asks, “Can I cum on you? I want to taste us all together. I need to know- !”

“Fine!” you’re borderline shrieking, sniveling and sobbing in the overstimulation, “Yes, yes, cum on my cunt, Laios. Do whatever you want!”

As if waiting permission, once those words are uttered, Laios spurts across your heated groin. He wastes no time basking in his euphoria before drunkenly lapping up his cum dribbling across your pussy and into yours and Chilchuck’s juices.

“Feral,” Chilchuck notes, smearing the excess sperm across Laios’ thigh and collapsing by your side.

Quicker and more violent than you’d like, another orgasm swells from your tummy to your hips. Thighs clapping against Laios’ ears as his tongue lulls out to sap up your cum. Your nails scrape Laios’ scalp as you wrangle him back when you notice him trying to sink in for more.

“Laios, please!” you tiredly protest.

“Off,” Chilchuck says it short and curt, like training a puppy, as he bats Laios’ head.

Laios lifts his head and drops beside you as well, turning onto his side to stare at you both -- hands curled towards his chest for comfort, “That was fun. We should do it again, but with our normal bodies.”

Unbeknownst to Laios, both you and Chilchuck are passed out and tangled around on another. And unknown to all three of you, Marcille and Senshi are coughing and hacking out a plan to crawl out and search for your group on the hunt for medicinal herbs.

[ceilidho]

prompt: blue collar worker ghost knocking reader up in a gas station bathroom on a whim. (nsfw, 2k)

-

Just to look over at him on the driver’s side drives you crazy.  

His buzz cut uncovered by a hood or balaclava is the new normal. It makes your blood rush to think of dragging your fingers across it, never long enough to really grip; heats you up faster than sitting by a fire or plunging into warm water. It’s the same new normal as the bristly, naked skin of his jaw, which flexes under scrutiny. He hadn’t gotten around to shaving earlier—rarely does these days as long as he can keep to a five o’clock shadow—and it makes you shiver when you think of the raw tenderness on your inner thighs, a consequence of that decision. 

These are the consequences of trust and loyalty. Not long ago, you wouldn’t have expected more than a glimpse of dark eyes behind a mask. 

The window is cracked open just enough to let the smoke from his cigarette out. Black fingerless gloves, nails bare and trimmed, dirt and ink trapped always in the grooves of his fingers. Eyes heavy lidded as always from poor sleep, shot nerves the takeaway from an old life of brittle thin sleep. His cortisol levels, to this day, must ride high in the bloodstream. You’d give anything to ease it at a touch, but that’s not how things work. 

“Keep lookin’ at me like that and we’re gonna have a problem,” Simon says when you glance over at him for the fifth time in as many minutes. 

“A problem?” you repeat. You’re not trying to be coy—you’re really not—but it comes out that way regardless. A bit breathlessly too, you realize with a small degree of embarrassment. You’ve got no shame these days. 

He grunts instead of answering. Your fists close over your thighs as you dry to concentrate on the road ahead of you instead of the persistent ache between your thighs. It’s not his fault that your pussy picked now of all times to get desperate. 

You peer over at him again out of the corner of your eye. 

“Bird,” he growls. Doesn’t even have to look over at you to know that you’re staring. Just another weird six sense from another life. It’s a warning though, one you hear loud and clear. 

“I didn’t say anything,” you say in a huff, turning your head fully away from him now to stare out the window. 

Only a handful of minutes tick by with you watching the brown patches of grass and the trees lining the motorway before you shift in your seat. Acutely aware of the wet spot between your legs, the way Simon’s fingers curl over the steering wheel loosely when he drives one handed, the smell of smoke on the upholstery, the grimy spots on the windshield where the wipers don’t reach, the moment he shifts and the weight of him makes the leather squeak. 

You peek over at him again.

He doesn’t bother signalling before veering into the rightmost lane, ignoring the furious honking from the car right behind you. You yelp when he takes the exit at a breakneck speed, fingers gripping the underside of your seat before whipping your head around to glare at him. 

“What’s the matter with you?” you scream, spine stiff from the sudden lane change. 

Simon doesn’t answer you, but you notice that the exit leads to a rest stop just off the motorway. It’s one of the less frequented ones—just a cluster of fast food restaurants and a gas station. He pulls into a parking space and practically slams on the brakes, making you jerk forward in your seat. Simon’s never been the most cautious driver, but this is a whole new level for him.

“Simon—Simon, what are you doing—” you hiss through clenched teeth, but he’s already up and out of the car, circling around to your side. 

Your heart goes hummingbird quick in your chest, stomach in knots. When you pant out a breath, it comes out shaky with nerves and excitement. You toy with the idea of pressing down on the child lock when he comes around but think the better of it. There’s already a twitch in his eye. 

You look up at him through your lashes when he opens the door and leans in to release your seatbelt. 

“Get out,” he orders, and yanks you out before you can reply. 

The walk to the gas station is tense and you struggle to keep up with him. He walks too fast and expects you to keep up, growling down at you to move it, but you drag your feet a little. It’s shameful how even that gets you worked up. 

“Are we gonna—?” you ask breathlessly, irritation seeping out of you. Simon doesn’t answer, just tightens his hand around your wrist. 

A chime above the door jingles when the two of you walk in, heading straight for the back. You catch the attendant staring at the two of you with open contempt and give a tight, embarrassed smile back. Simon doesn’t so much as glance over. You think he’d let the man call the cops if it came down to it. 

The gas station bathroom is one of the crummier bathrooms you’ve ever been in, but you hardly register that with how Simon hauls you up against the door he just slammed shut and kisses you within an inch of your life. His kisses are ever slick and wet, dangerous for you—drugging when he drags his tongue over yours and a hand cups your head to angle it just right. You want to give as good as you get, but it’s easy to let yourself get swept away and open your mouth to let him in because you feel his hunger. 

“That cunt never gets tired of me, does she?” Simon mumbles into your mouth. He steals your words from you when he slots his lips over yours again. Only gives you enough space to drag in a sharp breath. 

It’s in your best interest. The only words available to you are pathetic little pleas, desperate fingers digging into his jacket and trying to pull it off so you can feel the muscle underneath. Trying to get as close as possible to him, to wrap yourself around him. A needy, pitiful thing. 

“Poor thing,” he sighs, pulling away from your mouth and laughing when your lips chase after him. Standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him again and kiss, hands tugging him down by the back of his neck. “So horny that you nearly made me crash the fuckin’ car.”

“Couldn’t wait,” you whine, peppering his neck with kisses when he draws up to his full height, nearly dizzy now. “Sorrysorrysorry, please—please fuck me, Simon—please—”

“Not here, bird—want you to see how desperate you look.”

He drags you over to the other side of the bathroom and makes you stand on his boots and face the mirror covered in lipstick and sharpie and god knows what else—“c’mon, up you get”—while he rucks up your dress. The stark contrast between the two of you in the mirror makes you baulk. Like you haven’t slept with him before and lived to tell the tale. He’s all dark clothing and mountains for shoulders, mouth always set in a flat line of impatience that would make anyone else turn the other way. 

You, however, press yourself back into him. 

Rough fingers tug your panties to the side, not bothering to check if you’re wet. Assuming that you are—that you always are with him, eager to cant your hips and offer yourself up to him.

You try not to think about how your pelvis is already tilted towards him.

Simon holds your head up with a single hand under your chin, squishing your cheeks a little. “Fuckin’ hell…look at that,” he rasps, eyes almost black with lust. 

“You’re being mean,” you whine, pushing back against him and wiggling your hips. 

“Doesn’t matter how many times I give it to you—always whining for it. Cock hungry bird.”

It would hurt if you didn’t already know how much he wants you too, the deep rasp in his voice betraying an aching, insatiable hunger. An arm locks like a bar across your chest to hold you in place, his hand fitting over a breast just to have something to hold. He can tell you again and again that it’s just you, but you know that he wants it just as badly as you do. 

He reaches around to undo his pants and then you feel a familiar cock bully its way into you, a tight fit only eased by the wetness almost glistening on your inner thighs. He grunts when his cock pushes into you, the same hand reaching around to rest low on your stomach, pinkie brushing the top of your mound. 

The first thrust jostles you, forces your palms to slam down on the mirror even though the arm across your chest keeps you tight to his chest. It’s sticky under your fingers. You wince when you think of how much Purell you’ll need after this, but the thought melts away when he pulls his cock almost all the way out of you before slamming back in. 

“Yes, yes—fuck—” you gasp, staring at your reflection in the mirror. After a couple hours on the road, you’re not exactly in tiptop shape—sweaty and in need of a shower and coffee—but any timidity evaporates under Simon’s hot gaze. It eats you up. 

His jaw flexes with each thrust, eyes flitting between your tits bouncing under your dress and your face until it stays there, devouring you in a single heated look. Every time your shoes almost slip off his boots, he pulls you tighter into his chest; you couldn’t get out of his hold even if you wanted to. The thought makes the blood rush through your ears. 

“Almost need someone else jus’ to take care of you when I’m not around,” Simon growls. He gives your breast a rough squeeze, an admonishment. 

“No—no one else—” 

“Jus’ me then, pet? No one else can take care of this little cunt?”

You shake your head, maybe nod, maybe sob a bit. It’s hard to tell. The hand on your low belly grips into the flesh, holding you in place while he rails you over the sink. Impossible to look away from the man towering over you, a man you’ve let willingly bend you over and get between your thighs. You wouldn’t even if you could. He’s the summation of everything you’ve ever hoped for, packaged in the too big body of a gun for hire, riddled with nerve damage and a nasty temper. You wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world.

Your eyes slip shut.

“Tell you what,” he breathes into your ear, the burr of his stubble rubbing your neck raw. “I’ll give you somethin’ else to keep you busy.” 

Your eyes spring wide open.

He shifts his stance and drives into you with renewed vigour, muffling your sounds with a hand over your mouth. The mirror fogs up through the gaps between his fingers, the room damper and stickier now than when you entered it. Tears build in the corners of your eyes. 

When he goes quiet, you know what’s about to happen. Your toes curl in your shoes when he exhales a ragged breath, gritting his teeth when he meets your eyes again in the mirror. Something about his gaze alone makes you come, like a deep press into your soul. The fat cock stretching you out is just a bonus. 

The come down is harsh, laboured breaths panting out of you until your chest finally settles, until it feels safe enough to move. You lower one foot from on top of his boot just for Simon’s arms to constrict even more, holding you fast to his chest. He can probably feel your heartbeat against his wrist. 

“Quit squirming,” he scolds, giving you a little warning squeeze.

“‘M sweaty,” you complain.

“We’ll towel off at home,” Simon says, rolling his eyes. “Don’t bitch.”

“I’m not bitching, I’m hot—” 

He lets you carp and moan about your inner thighs being covered in beard burn and come while straightening out your dress, pulling your panties back into place. He’s quicker with himself, doesn’t even bother grabbing a paper towel to wipe himself off before shoving his cock back into his pants and zipping up. When you ask him to hand you one, the look he gives you scorches you right to the bone. 

“Wait ‘till we get home,” he says, hand on your back when he unlocks the bathroom door.

“Like you aren’t gonna do it all over again the second we get there,” you mutter.

His smirk isn’t smug, but it’s a near thing.

[ovaryacted]

me and a friend were talking about Leon during classes today and I couldn’t get dad bod Leon out of my mind😪 I need it bad

I just imagined him coming home tired after a long day of work and needing and relief and just letting reader suck him off or bending us in half, being all soft and warm and I had to stop thinking about it because I was getting distracted😭

-🐏

MDNI/18+. NSFW. | Vendetta! Dad Bod! Leon x fem! reader CW: blowjobs, fingering | WC: 1.1k

I've been meaning to answer this message for a while but haven't had the energy to properly decipher my thoughts. But yeah ram anon, listen I've been in a serious dad bod Leon phase which is all @larvamars fault with their recent drawings. I have moments where I'm at work and my brain just goes "mmm, Vendetta! Dad Bod! Leon" and I lose focus so I get it. It's just something comforting about him having a stomach and thickness that you can grab on to. I need it bad.

Stepping through the front door, the agent walked over the threshold of the entryway and closed the door behind him. Lowering the zipper of his leather jacket, he tossed it over the back of the couch and trudged towards it, plopping himself down with a heavy grunt. Leon placed his head against the edge of the couch and inhaled before exhaling out of his mouth, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose as his eyes fluttered closed.

Today was a pain in the ass, the cycle of continuous bio-weapon debriefs and missions gave him a run for his money and an unwanted migraine. All he had been thinking about was coming home and cuddling with you, rotting away in bed together until the next morning. He missed you, he always did, and lately, you have been the only source of release from his pent-up stress.

"Leon? Is that you?" He heard your voice filter through his thoughts, lifting his head slightly from where he rested to skim your silhouette.

"Yeah baby, it's me. Come here," opening his arms out for you, you didn't need to be told twice to move, gravitating towards him and situating yourself over his denim-clad lap.

"Rough day?" You asked him, thick arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to his warm chest. He breathed in and breathed out, your scent filling his senses and easing his ticked nerves.

"Something like that," he groaned when you rubbed at the base of his neck, lightly massaging his nape. He gripped your thighs and caressed you, the rough material of his fingerless leather gloves contradicting his needy touch.

"I missed you today," he confessed in a tired whisper, kissing softly along the side of your neck, his affectionate side coming through.

"You did?"

"Of course I did. Needed to come home so you can take care of me." He squeezed your body a bit harder, the tension he felt building up and flowing to another region down south.

You hummed in contentment, hands running down from his neck to the softness of his chest and towards his lower stomach. He knew he didn't have the same physique from a few years ago when he was younger, the extra weight counted on with time and his figure began to expand. It initially bothered him and it took him a long while to fully look in the mirror again. But to you? It just gave you more to grab, more to hold, more to love.

"Yeah? Need me to make you feel better baby?" You leaned forward the slightest bit, giving him a sweet peck and his hips a teasing grind. The corner of his lips curved in a smile, his dimple shy of making itself known along with the growing bulge hidden underneath his jeans.

"Mhm. You're the only one that knows what I need," he gripped onto your hips, meshing his lips with your own and urging your mouth open to make room for his tongue. You could taste the faint traces of whiskey left behind from when he snuck a sip from his flask earlier, not that you minded.

He was always touch-deprived, always greedy for more but you never complained. You were more than inclined to please him the best way you knew how.

Propped on your knees in front of the couch, you bobbed your head over Leon's cock, a daily occurrence it seemed, and one of your favorite things to do. The fingers of one hand grasped at the thickness of his thighs, a soft layer of fat over the muscle he sported so frequently. The other was busy rubbing at your clit beneath your cotton shorts in tight circles, moaning with every pass of your tongue over his length.

"Feels so good sweetheart," Leon said above you, his neck strained with the way his head was thrown back, clasping your jaw to guide your movements over him.

“Open wider for me baby, want to be deep in there,” he commanded, instinctively relaxing your jaw until he hit the back of your throat with ease, gagging before repeating the act over and over again.

“Fuuuck, that’s it,” he hissed, shifting his attention downwards to watch you suck him off. 

You held his gaze then, following up his happy trail and his lower tummy, admiring the way it folded and creased from the way he slouched. You focused on the stretch marks that made a tantalizing path around his hips and his biceps, lines you wanted to trace with an imprint of kisses. Whimpering at the thought, you drooled around his length, his pelvis becoming a mess of spit from the amount that dribbled out of you. You moaned loudly when you slipped two fingers into your pussy, wishing you had something more to fill the empty ache between your legs.

Leon grinned at the sight of you craving his touch so badly, paying attention to the telltale signs of you reaching the edge with the way your hand pumped in and out of you.

“So desperate for me, poor thing hates being empty,” he patronized you, the pleasant hum you gave him sending his hips jerking into your face. It was only a matter of time before he spilled down your throat and made a mess of you—just the way you wanted.

“Don’t worry. I’ll feed ya, honey. Just a little bit more and you got me,” Leon grumbled, fucking up into your mouth with an audible plap plap plap. Your throat constricted around him, his balls hitting your chin with every thrust he gave you. Eyes rolling into the back, you focused on regulating your breathing when he slammed your head down to press your nose into his pubic hair as he came.

“Take it, fucking take it.” He practically roared from his release, pudgy stomach and dense legs flexing from your touch, your nails digging into him and leaving crescent marks. You choked as your walls clenched around your digits, in tune with his climax and your own hitting you with a dull cry.

As gently as he could, he drew you away from his softening cock, letting you catch your breath with a light cough. Your lips felt numb and your eyes were bloodshot with tears, but you’ve never been more satisfied, a dopey smile evident on your features.

“How about I return the favor now? Gotta clean up the mess my girl made.” He proposed with a smirk, affectionately wiping away the spit that stained your cheeks along with the tears that left their streaks.

This was why Leon liked coming home to you. You’ll always be there with open arms, an open mouth, and open legs.

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

[denim-devil]

Bad To The Bone - Week 1 | Mirror Fucking/Hair pulling

Summary - When hearts collide, Billy chooses to chase after the longing thoughts that have only you in the midsts of them all, the biggest halloween party ever hosted in the small town of Hawkins was his best bet to finally entice those very thoughts…

Pairings - Bully!Billy Hargrove x M!Reader

The cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he stalked the crowded room, his eyes lingering on the current sight before him. Steve’s hands were far to close for his liking, lightly grabbing at your swaying hips.

What had felt like an eternity, Billy slowly crept toward the two of you, anger and malice ran through his veins like the blood circulating his body had done, bubbling up, growing closer to a boiling point.

Steve’s lips felt warm against the crook of your neck, his teeth nibbling gently against the dampness. Although under the influence, you had no desire to stop him, not after the end of your mid-night rendezvous with the current king and bully of Hawkins High.

A slight shove had forced the ridiculed Steve into the wall beside the two of you, a harsh bang sounding out into the room, even with the noisy crowd of teenage students and the humming beats of madonna…it was loud.

“Watch it asshole-“

Steve ushered out with a hiss. As if time itself was a concept, you stood, frozen. Billy stood with a proud smirk, his black, slightly damp leather jacket was hung open, showcasing the toned physique you were once frequented with.

“Watch what? I didn’t do anything”

Billy tuts, his eyes flicking over to you, looking you up and down like he would his next meal, like a dangerous predator to it’s prey. A certain ache began to pool between your legs, what were once pale, your cheeks were now a deep shade of crimson, taking note of Billy’s looming figure.

“Oh yeah? You wanna bet?”

Taking a puff of his cigarette, it goes back to laying loose between a shit-eaten grin, his tongue flicking over the orange tip. Billy had no time for games, nor Steve’s bullshit, instead he opted for the obvious choice, charging toward you with his fingerless leather gloves which eagerly wrapped around your bicep, yanking you toward the stairs.

“Oh your in so much shit sweetheart”

He half growled, half whispered, even with the music blaring and the crowd going back to dancing and chatting, Billy took himself seriously, only wanting you to know what was to follow as you stumbled up behind him, leaving a confused Steve, stammering around in the very same corner.

He hadn’t bothered to look back, feeling how limp your wrist was within his grip had told him everything he needed to know, you had no fight to win, Billy had already won, more so with the dingy bathroom door flying open with a tug and a kick.

Thump, thump, thump. It rang through your ears like an alarm, heartbeat pacing like a jockey and it’s horse during a race, running quicker once the door slammed shut and the click of the lock latching away both your confidence and the thoughts of an impending escape.

He stood, flicking the cigarette bud onto the floor before raising one of his heavy boots, stomping the crisp leftovers into dust.

You watched the older male proceed to shake of his jacket, leaving him in just the denim jeans he was naturally acquainted with.

“You better think twice before ever letting Harrington touch you like that again-“

Nodding was the only beneficial answer, earning a daring smirk from the manic jock before you. His golden locks were matted yet matched the darkness now claiming the once ocean blue eyes he usually sported, his hair resting against the sweaty tan skin that covered his innards.

His steps grew closer with each thump correlating with your heartbeat, black boots treading against the tiled floor toward you until his warm breath fanned lightly across your pink-dusted cheeks.

“Billy- please, it was nothing, j-just needed something”

He tutted before pressing his body against you, pushing you further into the floral wallpapered brick behind, instantly making you feel small and defenceless.

“Save it- you need to learn a thing or two…”

Billy doesn’t think twice, he normally doesn’t before acting on said thoughts, twisting your body, roughly laying you stomach first against the counter top that faced the elongated mirror before you.

His body, warm and delectable now rolled into your arched form from behind, pushing most of his growing erection against you, forcing you to feel your own impending doom.

“You should be thanking me sweetheart, you got this cock all to yourself and you were ready to throw it away like dog shit- fuck”

You incoherently mumble a short “no” before pushing back momentarily, testing the waters. Luck had happened to be in your favour, a starving Billy, craving nothing but to ravish you groaned before pulling back.

It was easier to see this way, watching eager finger tips make quick work of his leather belt and crotch zipper, both thumbs hooking into the burgundy band of his boxers, wiggling them down slowly, past the light trimming of blonde pubes surrounding his veiny, thick base.

“Can’t stop thinking about how easily you take this dick”

Your tongue trails over your dry lips, watching as the band smoothly runs further down, catching on the moist tip before being completely removed, his cock bounces, loudly slapping into his toned abdomen, the head angry with urgency, a deep crimson in colour, he was thick from base to tip, a singular girthy vein running on the underside, splitting off just underneath the curve of his tip.

He chuckled at the reaction, watching as the same lips he used to get himself once in the janitor closet after gym class hung agape, eyes wide with earnest and adoration.

“Don’cha think Harrington would give it in so easy? Look at you, all dolled up for the wrong guy-“

You groan into the warm air of the now secluded space, the bathroom, although big felt small with the presence of Billy watching over you, his shadow looming in every corner from the dim strip light placed just above the mirror, forwarding his domineering ways.

“Billy- I got dolled up for you…”

As if words were a dagger, sharp and pointy, cutting into his skin, seeping deeper and changing his whole point of view. It was clear now, from the tight, revealing light wash jeans that hugged every spot he had both discovered and devoured more then once to the dainty leather jacket that had you looking smaller then usual, swallowing you up.

“Oh really? Fuck princess, you really know how to rile up a guy”

His fingers tips scrambled from your inner thighs upward, towards the belt loops and eventually to the knot holding you together.

Billy had made quick work with your belt and jeans, unclasping the metal before roughly pulling down the tight denim that hugged you perfectly, followed by the white briefs unveiling the very source of his affliction and desire.

His cock, thick and heavy, laid perfectly between your crack, pulsing at the very thought of being inside once again, after weeks of having blue balls, it was his forbidden truth to feel you all over again, like the first.

“Harrington could never- you really think he could fuck you the way I do? Make you feel things…”

Reaching down, a warm hand cups the base of your dick before slightly tugging, the leather cold against the warmth he was supplying. The moans that had forced themselves from deep within bubbled up into a whimper once surpassing your open lips.

His free hand managed to sneakily wrap itself within your hair, tugging harshly, you were not getting out of this, even if you had the choice.

“I won’t ask you again doll-“

You mumble a sharp, squeaky “no” once the angry tip rests softly against the puckered skin surrounding your entrance and Billy’s gateway into bliss. A few more tugs was all he offered up before removing his hand from your dribbling member, slightly patting at the pert globes you arched into him.

He chuckled cockily, his beer-soaked chest resting against your clothed back before looking up into the glass mirror. It was almost invigorating to see himself like this, to watch you wriggle with anticipation, giving in so easily, allowing Billy himself to guide you through his ecstasy, it was even better, a strangers bathroom had never brought him so much glory.

“Atta boy, come on, won’t you relax for me, let me in sweetheart…”

He slips in with ease, creating a stretch that burned like the sun, growing with each passing inch, watching as his tongue danced against your neck, how your features twisted with pain…then pleasure.

“Look at yourself-“

He settles against you before pressing his hips flush against your own, filling you up, warm and thick in your gut. Tear-stained eyes flick up to settle on his baby blues that twitched with lust, his smirk big and proud, almost intimidating.

“That’s it- that’s my pretty boy, such a sweet thing for me, all for me”

He panted before pulling completely back with an audible pop, watching his cock bob, he ushered himself back in to the hilt with a loud slap, this was something Billy would never forget, clearly.

“Keep your eyes on me princess-“

You did, watching him roll his hips, feeling each inch slip and slide against your velvet walls, his tip edging it’s way back and forth, watching your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“Bill- Billy, please-“

You gasp before he presses fully forward, pushing against your pleasure spot and watching you gasp, tongue licking at dry lips. Once again you find his eyes, blushing at the wet laps he gives your neck.

“You’ll think twice next time hmm?”…

[berryblu-ocs]

Ive decided half of Aki's wardrobe was stolen from Fallon´s old stuff

bc did he get a budget for new clothes assigned? Yes, were there other hand me downs available? Also yes, but he loves dressing like a cyberpunk emo and the only thing he ever bought was that dumb oversized hoodie he wears everywhere :3 (almost plasticky on the outside but insanely soft on the inside btw)

also gave him back his dumb, tight below the knee cargo pants, high collar jacket and chunky velcro shoes, bc lets be real, this is an unsupervised 15 year old with full control of his outfits for the first time in like 8 years

OC talk (The Post™)

[salem-witch-slut]

Of Bartenders and Bodyguards

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader x Abby Anderson

SYNOPSIS: After a disaster goes down at the bar the night before Thanksgiving, Abby and Ellie come to your rescue and the two quickly become all you can think about.

WARNINGS: Offensive words used (such as dyke, rape), mentions of sexual assault, alcohol, Ellie typical violence, polyamory, reader described as femme

WORD COUNT: 4.8K

A/N: You guys have been waiting for this one to come back. So here's this, and I'm currently working on a part 2, so look out for that!

Dividers made by @cafekitsune

The night started out as any other night.

Prep for service, make ordered drinks, clean up after, check IDs to make sure the bouncer at the door didn’t overlook anything, and stay vigilant in order to not let anything bad happen in the club. After doing this for 3 years, you could say she was a bit of an expert on spotting bullshit and diffusing chaos. She’s seen it all and dealt with it all.

“Ready for tonight?” The auburn-haired bartender glanced up from the countertop, pausing her knife strokes in cutting up various fruits she knew that she would need for the many cocktails she would make that evening. Leaning on the freshly wiped down countertop, the tall and muscular blonde woman wearing that freshly ironed button-up black collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up just under her elbows and the matching black dress pants. Her hair was pulled back in that same braid she almost always had, and those black fingerless gloves that the bartender had a massive thing for all the time.

“Psssh,” The bartender smirked, handing the headset over from under the countertop and watching the blonde hook it up to her ear. “I’m a professional, always.”

“Try not to threaten anyone tonight, Ellie?”

“I’m good, Abby. 100 percent. The gun will stay under the counter, I promise.”

Abby smirked before she watched Ellie offer her a glass from under the countertop. Before Abby could accept it, she raised a brow and smelled the liquid in the glass. “Just seltzer, right?”

“Dude, I’m not trying to get fuckin’ fired tonight,” Ellie began placing several bottles underneath the bar and folded up some of the towels under the counter, lining the edge of her station. She looked at the clock and saw it was 8:47 PM. Only a little while longer until the doors opened up.

Abby quickly downed said seltzer and left the glass on the countertop, giving Ellie a small wink before she took her own place at the front of the club to watch everything that was going on. All of the workers were bustling around to get ready for tonight’s service. It was bound to be insane; it was something that the service industry called Black Wednesday. An influx of out-of-towners would be flooding inside the day before Thanksgiving and the max capacity would be reached in a matter of an hour.

When the clock struck 9, patrons began to flood in almost uncontrollably. Abby was her usual broody self, standing in the corner, prepared to throw someone out in a moment’s notice, watching over everything like some gargoyle on the rooftop of a chapel.

Her arms were crossed, accentuating those gorgeous muscles in that shirt as the hours carried on until almost midnight. She had thrown out several individuals so far, and Ellie had been true to her word; the pistol under the counter for emergencies had stayed strapped to the wood, the safety on, but preloaded and ready to use just in case. Hopefully it wouldn’t be like it was on Halloween when Ellie genuinely had to threaten someone before they jumped over the counter.

The night had been going smoothly so far… So far.

The next flood of customers came in, and Abby had seen many individuals enter the bar that night… she’s seen so many girls come in, wearing the shortest skirts and the tightest dresses known to mankind, and she didn’t ever bat an eye… Until she saw you.

When you entered the club, her heart skipped and she openly gaped. She had never seen anybody quite like you before… A wine-colored blouse with off-shoulder bell sleeves down to your wrists, and a white pleated skirt that was short enough to cover your rear but leave almost all of your thigh on display. And somehow, you found red heels the same shade as your shirt, which anyone knew was nearly impossible. There was a gilded hairclip in your locks in the shape of a rose, the edges golden and shiny, and there was a butterfly tattoo on the back of your neck.

Abby’s never faltered before… well, maybe when she met Ellie for the first time during her training? But beyond that, she’s never been speechless before. There was only one problem, though… That man with his arm wrapped around your waist, skimming dangerously close to your ass. Every few seconds, you would force his hand back up, but he would continue to push the envelope, pissing him off by the millisecond.

When you two sat down at the bar, the man snapped his fingers in Ellie’s direction as she spoke to another patron. At hearing the sound of fingers snapping over the booming music, followed up by a whistle, she openly rolled her eyes at the man who dare interrupt her.

“I’ll be right with you,” She snapped, accepting the $100 that the other patron gave her. She folded up the bill, stuffed it into her apron pocket before standing in front of the arrogant man, and then she looked at you. Her cheeks went pink, and she had to grab at her shirt for a second to calm herself down.

You were gorgeous… But you looked embarrassed. Was it because the man called Ellie over like she was a fucking dog?

“What can I get you two?” She spoke mostly to you, watching as your eyes lit up and you smiled warmly. It made her feel fuzzy inside for a second and she almost jumped out of her skin at hearing Abby’s voice inside of her headset.

“She’s adorable, isn’t she?” The blonde smirked, forcing Ellie to look up for a second. She resisted the urge to flip Abby off and waited patiently for the order.

“Two margaritas,” The man spoke quickly, and without even looking in your direction. You had this face of disdain and before you could speak out, he hushed you. “You’ll love it, I promise. Best thing this place has to offer.”

“Actually,” Ellie butted in. “All of our drinks are good, so she doesn’t need to get—”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” The man barked, his unkempt brows creasing with aggression. Ellie didn’t even flinch but looked disgusted as she turned to look at you, seeing the poor puppy-dog eyes from you and all of her anger began to melt away at how guilty you acted. Of course, the bastard man wasn’t done insulting her yet. “Just do your job, dyke.”

“Michael!” You shouted, your voice almost piercing the air as you bristled with this uncomfortable air around you. He barely even looked at you as Ellie leaned on the counter for a second, licking at her lips and giving a soft little click to the underside of her teeth before walking off and doing what he asked for.

“C’mon baby, she was askin’ for that,” The man, Michael, reached out and gently grabbed at your chin. Even from where she was standing, Abby could see you were uncomfortable. And when Ellie returned with the drinks, Michael reached down once again and this time, grabbed a handful of your ass. Abby’s fist curled into the fabric of her shirt, and she seethed with anger at how you reacted. It would be different if you liked what he did, but you looked disgusted.

Very carefully, you grabbed at the drink in front of you and gave a little sip before immediately putting it down. It was clear that you didn’t like it but couldn’t speak out because of the death grip this asshole had on you. His hand was now on your thigh, just below the hem of your skirt, and you looked absolutely frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights.

It wasn’t until everyone was distracted that Abby saw something that had her moving almost instantly in your direction. One of the servers dropped a glass on the ground and the sound had everyone, including you, looking in that direction. And in that split second moment, your so-called date slipped something into your drink.

The packet of white powder was dumped in the liquid and fizzed before dissolving almost immediately.  When you went back to the drink to try it again, a hand closed around the glass, making you look up in surprise. Abby took the glass from your hands, putting it on the counter and leaning down to speak so you didn’t need to strain to hear her.

“Don’t drink that, sweetheart.”

Abby felt you shiver as she gently released your wrist, looking at the man next to you who was glaring at her, fire burning in his eyes. Before he could say a single thing, Abby got Ellie’s attention as she was in the middle of handing off a scotch to another customer.

“Ellie, call the police,” Abby said without hesitation, making you immediately fear for the worst. The drink in front of you looked unsuspecting, and then Abby watched you slowly dip your pinky finger into the alcoholic beverage. Everybody watched as your blue nail polish turned purple and your entire face twisted in abstract rage.

“You tried to…” Michael stood out of his seat, almost like he was going to run away. Your voice faltered as you looked at Ellie, and then to Abby, your heart twisting uncomfortably in your chest. Almost like an instinct, your fists curled into the fabric of your dress. “Why?”

“Come on baby,” Michael smirked. “You been playin’ hard to get for weeks now. You come out, dressed like that, and think I ain’t fuckin’ tonight?”

His entire demeanor made Abby even more pissed off. She heard Ellie call the police almost immediately after he spoke and very cautiously approached the man. “Sir, you’re gonna want to stay away from her.”

“Don’t even try that shit,” Michael jeered, still grinning like a wolf. “Look at her; she’s askin’ for it.”

Very slowly, you sat back down on your stool and felt a single tear race down your cheek. Michael wasn’t the nicest person, but he never acted like this before… Was tonight just a ploy to get you in bed with him? You had been seeing him for a few weeks now, and every time you gave a small kiss on his cheek before you went back home.

And each time, he acted more and more agitated and short-fused. And now it was making sense why; Michael was pissed you didn’t put out on day one… That’s what you get for using Tinder, huh?

Ellie could see your hands shaking as you went to clutch at your chest, trying not to look at Michael and focus on anything else. Ellie hung up the phone and looked at Abby, simply holding up four fingers and then tapping the inside of her wrist. After working with each other for 3 years, they knew how to communicate basic things without needing words. The cops would be there in four minutes, and she told Abby to restrain him.

“You need to back off, now,” Abby said, calmly and collectively. Michael was on the opposite end of the spectrum and began screaming immediately.

“Don’t fucking talk to me, bitch! I’m not goin’ anywhere,” He got closer and closer to Abby and you began to get back off the stool, backing away and nearly stepping into another patron in the process. Michael noticed this, and he went to reach for your arm… and then, all hell broke loose.

Abby reacted first. Her veined hand wrapped around Michael’s wrist and she pulled his entire arm over his head, grabbing the back of his shirt and slamming his face down onto the counter. Ellie watched as the man struggled, kicking at Abby’s shins to try and get her to let go. The sound of a gun cocking had Michael finally going still and he looked up, staring down the barrel of a pistol in Ellie’s hand.

“Think again, motherfucker,” Ellie hissed, her tattooed arm flexing as she held the gun to his face. The safety was still on, but she wouldn’t hesitate to fire a clip directly into his skull if necessary. The look of terror on your face spoke volumes as you wrapped both arms around your body and began to slowly sink down onto the floor. Tears flowed freely and you curled in on yourself… It was truly a heartbreaking sight to see.

When the cops finally showed up, Abby all but tossed Michael in their direction, watching the man get shoved in the back of a police car. And unfortunately, because of this kind of incident, the bar had to be shut down. Police were swarming all over the place, and the owner decided the best course of action was to close the doors for the night. It would kill his revenue, but it was better than people being scared away by the police.

Abby was the first to give her statement to the cops, and then Ellie, and finally, you.

You had mostly been in shock the entire time, sitting on an outside seat as the officer questioned you. He asked you if this kind of thing had happened before, to which you responded no, but gave him the details about how Michael got more and more aggressive with each date you two went on.

As you sat there, with your face in your hands, you could hear the cops talking as they ran a screening on Michael… “Fake ID. Mitchell Loomis, arrested for aggravated and sexual assault… was released on parole last month.”

And then suddenly, you felt like the biggest idiot in the world. You willingly went out with a criminal. And not just any kind of criminal; no, you were dating a rapist! And had it not been for Abby and Ellie, you would have probably been next! You looked up at the two women who acted like your guardian angels that night, and you immediately started crying again.

Your sobs were so quiet that no one could hear you. Ellie was too busy beating herself up, looking down at her shoes and grumbling in anger. “Fuck, they were sitting right in front of me. How did I not see it?”

Abby frowned, putting a hand on her shoulder. “El, it’s the busiest damn night of the year. One person can’t see everything… that’s why I’m there to watch your back, yeah?”

“I know,” Ellie sighed, rubbing at her forehead and flinching at the cold air ruffling up her short auburn locks. The November air was especially brutal tonight, and Ellie suddenly got worried about you. Considering what you had been wearing, you must have been freezing. She looked over and saw you curled forward in the chair, your entire face buried into your thighs as your tears stained the fabric of your skirt. “Shit, poor thing…”

“Come on,” Abby tugged on Ellie’s sleeve before they both approached you. When Ellie reached down to gently place a hand on your shoulder, you shot back up, eyes wide and bloodshot with fear before you relaxed, seeing their faces.

“Easy, easy…” Abby knelt down in front of you, reaching her hand out and gently placing the warm skin against your cheek. You immediately grabbed at her wrist and pushed your face into her palm, tears staining her knuckles as your makeup smeared. Even with your runny mascara and lipstick stains on your face, you still looked beautiful even in this moment. “You’re okay… you’re fine, it’s alright.”

“I feel… so stupid…” You said through hiccups, tears tracking down your cheeks. You stared into Abby’s gunmetal blue irises, trying to find a reason to calm down. It felt like someone was squeezing her heart, you looked so shattered. “H-how could I… n-not see this coming?”

“It’s okay,” Ellie sat on the table next to you, reaching out and gently tucking a lock of hair behind your ear before she softly caressed your jaw. The action was comforting, even if her hands had rough callouses on them. “It could’ve happened to anybody, you know… I’m actually impressed you have that nail polish. That’s ingenious, actually.”

The color had gone back to blue in the time you had been sitting down and you looked at your semi-short nails. Ever since you began your Tinder escapade, you had purchased the special nail polish, just in case something bad happened. You wore it all the time, and it was a plus that it was a pretty color too, so no one expected a thing… And now, you just wanted to take it off. You had done it to every single drink before tonight, but not this time… why not this time?

Very slowly, Ellie was removing her jacket and draped it over your shoulders in order to try and keep you warm. The shivers began to slowly subside, and you pushed your face into the tough leather, inhaling the scent that rolled off of it. You could smell rustic like cologne, and something that reminded you of your dad in a weird way, and you instantly felt better.

Abby noticed how you were pushing your whole face in Ellie’s jacket, and she elbowed the bartender when she smirked at the blonde. Suddenly, it felt like a competition to see who could comfort you more and you calmed down in seconds with how sweet and doting they were both acting. Ellie had gotten you a bottle of water and Abby was holding your hands the entire time to try and keep you focused on anything else but what happened to you that night.

When the minutes carried on, the night got later and later… Until you looked down and saw what time it was on Abby’s watch, you had been fine. And then, you jumped up from the chair, making Ellie nearly fall off the table she was perched on. You reached down and grabbed Abby’s wrist, her cheeks turning a soft pink at your grip. “Ohmygod, is that the time?!”

You pulled out your phone and began to aggressively type something into your phone. “Oh fuck, finding a damn Uber is gonna be like… $50 right now? Are you kidding me?” The emotions crossing your face were wild, making Ellie and Abby worry at the same time. Both of them stood up as you began pacing like mad, hair whipping in the wind and the cold having you shivering again.

Just as Abby glanced down, seeing your knees wobble, her face got even redder as a certain gust of wind lifted your skirt, but you were far too frantic to notice. Wow, even your panties were white, how cute!

“If you want,” Ellie stepped forward, holding her hands in front of her and gently tugging on her fingers with a certain sad look that made your heart ache. “I uhm… I could take you home?”

“El, after what happened tonight—”

“Just straight to your home,” Ellie defended herself against Abby’s words. Your face turned a deep red as you looked at the price of the Uber on your phone, and then back up to Ellie… The woman who had threatened your date with a weapon for you… Could she be trusted? “I promise you’ll get there safe.”

After many minutes of being worried, you decided that getting into the bartender’s car was somehow safer than getting into a complete stranger’s car. And yes, Ellie was a stranger, but… If you tried to rationalize any harder, you would get a headache. “Okay. Yeah, sure, I would really appreciate that, miss.”

Ellie pulled her keys out of her pocket and looked at Abby once again, watching her roll her eyes. She put a hand in her pocket and fiddled with the lighter inside of her pants, attempting to calm herself down when she watched Ellie wrap an arm around your shoulders and lead you towards her 1989 K5 Blazer. The deep blue color and shiny exterior made you slightly nervous.

The gorgeous bartender opened the door for you, giving a soft smile before she noticed that you looked uncomfortable. Ellie immediately frowned. “Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?”

“I…” You hesitated. It wasn’t that you were nervous about her being in the car with you. No, it was something else. “I feel like I’ll degrade the value of your car if I get in…”

Ellie chuckled slightly before she watched you slide into the passenger seat and slowly closed the door behind you. The car smelled so clean, like leather polish and an air freshener. Your stomach twisted a little in you as Ellie quickly joined on your left side, kicking the car into gear and heading down the road.

“You’ll have to guide me there, sweetheart,” Ellie smiled, turning the heat on to a comfortable level and keeping both hands on the steering wheel. “You can turn on the radio if you want, I don’t mind.”

“I’m okay,” You mumbled, leaning back into your seat and pushing your face into the side of Ellie’s jacket. It kept you so warm, and it smelled so nice… You wish you knew more about its owner. You had climbed inside of this car, and you didn’t even know this bartender’s name. Your face turned a soft shade of pink as you looked over at the woman driving, and you felt your heart skip like rocks on a river.

She was beautiful… Absolutely breathtaking. The soft curve of her nose, those intense green eyes, the freckles that dappled her cheeks and forehead, the various tiny scars littering her skin, and the intense scar over her eyebrow; the shade of her hair tied back in that half up, half down fashion, the sharpness of her jawline, the slight pout of her top lip…

If you had met her before tonight… someone would need to drag you out of the bar kicking and screaming to get you to leave her alone. And then, your thoughts wandered to the blonde bouncer that spotted what happened in the first place. What was her name?

That woman was… wow. You remembered how her brows creased when she first approached you. The warmth of her veined, massive hand that closed around your wrist. You could feel her strength without it even being shown, as she was so gentle and caring with you even though her job was to be the enforcer. The caress of said hand against your cheek in the cold weather outside, how she smiled when you two talked so casually, the way her bottom lip snagged under her teeth when she bit it to try and hold back a giggle… Fuck, they were both hot!

Before you knew it, Ellie was pulling up to your apartment building. You frowned for a second and glanced over at her before reaching into the top of your dress to pull out a collection of bills that you prepared for tonight. There was about $150 stashed away inside your bra and Ellie did not miss you removing it either. She blushed a deep crimson and bit down on her lip as you flipped through the bills and attempted to hand her a $20. “That should cover the gas to get me here, right?”

Ellie gave a breathy chuckle, smiling and closing her eyes for a brief second. The sound of her deep, grumbly laugh had you squirming in your seat. “Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. Knowing you are home, safe and sound is payment enough for me.”

And just like that, you were back to turning red. You bit down on your bottom lip and tucked the money back into your bra, inhaling deeply and going to step out of the car before Ellie was ripping off her seatbelt and nearly jumping over the jeep’s hood to get to your door in time. She opened it up and offered her hand for you, which you accepted without question this time around.

“Allow me, miss,” She smirked, winking at you as she walked you inside of the building and towards your door on the third floor. As soon as you reached the apartment door, you fumbled with your keys for a brief second before turning around and looking at Ellie who tucked both hands into her pocket.

Honestly, you expected for things to go south… after the night you had, it would make perfect sense for shit to go wrong right now, right? But Ellie was true to her word. She kept her hands to herself and stayed a person’s length away from you at all times, only admiring you with her eyes. Before you could fully step inside your apartment, you immediately jumped in place.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Very slowly, you pulled Ellie’s jacket off your shoulders and handed it back to her. She accepted the leather wordlessly and tucked it over her arm. “Thank you… I… I don’t even know your name, miss.”

“Ellie,” She bowed her head, that loose lock of auburn hair falling in front of her face for a second before she tucked it back behind her ear. She held her hand out for you to take, which you did without realizing and then, you were blushing once more!

The bartender bent down and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, like you were a princess. Her lips were soft and gentle as she kissed your skin and then immediately released your hand, looking up at you and bowing her head with respect. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I’m happy you’re safe and that we were able to help you.”

And as quick as she was in your life, she was getting on the elevator and leaving without another word. You leaned against the door and frowned, putting a hand over your chest to try and still your fast beating heart. “Goodbye… Ellie…”

Abby looked up from the phone, her hair still damp and dark after her shower. The front door opened up and she watched Ellie drop the keys on the table next to the entrance and slam her entire body against the wooden surface to shut it behind her. Ellie had this silly little smile on her face and Abby just rolled her eyes and leaned back. “You didn’t make her uncomfortable, did you?”

“I don’t think I did,” Ellie draped her jacket over the back of the reclining chair and flopped down next to Abby, leaning up and gently kissing her cheek. “Tonight, was definitely one of the more exciting ones, yeah?”

“Your tellin’ me,” Abby rolled her shoulders a bit as she looked at her phone, double checking to make sure she wasn’t on schedule tomorrow. She and Ellie had the day off together, which was a luxury few could afford due to the holiday. “Gotta go in tomorrow to pick up my paycheck though, that sucks.”

“Before open, babe,” Ellie said, standing back up and slowly unbuttoning her white shirt, untucking it from her dark denim jeans and tossing it onto the couch next to Abby who immediately locked her phone just to watch the show. Ellie smirked, stripping her clothes off piece by piece until she was standing in just her sports bra and boxers. “I’m gonna shower, okay?”

Before Ellie could walk off, Abby was gently grabbing her hand. “Wait, hold on. I… I had uh… something I had to ask.”

“Yes?” Ellie smiled warmly.

“You remember when we talked about… having a uhm… you know, a polyamorous thing? Bringing another girl in with us?” Abby stumbled on her words, her cheeks heating up as she thought about you and how sickeningly adorable you were. “You think that uh… maybe she could—”

“Abby,” Ellie reached down and ran her entire hand across Abby’s cheek, rubbing her jawline and making the blonde lean hard into her touch. If she had a tail, it would be wagging. “If we ever see her again? Maybe. But we don’t even know if she’s into girls, or if she likes both of us.”

“Were we lookin’ at the same girl?” Abby chuckled. “She may as well have a bisexual flag tattoo on her forehead, El.”

“Okay, point taken,” Ellie smiled. You did give off bi vibes, and that was the only reason she felt confident enough to give you that hand kiss without pissing herself. And when you didn’t shove her away, it was a very good sign. “But still, she has to like us both… But I mean, not to brag, but I’m pretty sure she likes me more.”

Abby was on her feet in seconds, racing after Ellie as they both went into the bedroom where the shorter woman stepped into the bathroom. “I beg to differ! She only likes you more now because you got to flirt with her! That’s an unfair advantage—”

“Excuses, excuses,” Ellie mocked, sticking her tongue out and hopping into the shower to clean off the smell of alcohol from her skin. “If we see her again, I bet I take her out on a date before you do!”

“Oh, it is so on, Williams.”

“What’s the prize for the winner?” Abby didn’t even need to see Ellie to know she was smirking.

Abby grinned like a wolf. “Loser gets strapped.”

“Ooooh, almost want to lose now, baby.”

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Thinking of making this a little series, will be a fluff, bit of a slow burn, bodyguard trope?

You aren’t sure how you’d got through the last few hours.  Everything’s a blur as you try to think back of the horror that had occurred, now you’re now sat in an unfamiliar chair in an unfamiliar office. Your right arm is in a sling, shoulder throbbing somewhat from a reset dislocation, broken fingers splintered together on the same arm, medical tape holding a wound closed on your temple, disinfectant swiped across the numerous scrapes, your body aching with developing bruises on your legs, poking out from under your dress, from the fall down the stairs – the fall that apparently ended up saving your life from the unearthly creature that had rampaged through your workplace and tore your co-workers apart.

After being treated by a DSO medic, you’d been escorted by a tall, armed to the gills, annoyingly silent man. He’d confiscated your phone, despite the fact the screen was smashed and wouldn’t turn on, and taken you across the city to the main HQ, ushered up a side entrance into the room you now sat, told you to wait, and left you alone for what felt like hours.

The door eventually opens and a smartly dressed, pretty woman, hair pinned up in a bun and wearing glasses enters, immediately heading to the other side of the desk and taking what you assumed was her seat. A handsome man accompanied her, shaggy brown hair, dressed in cargo pants, fingerless gloves, knife strapped to his thigh, finished off with a leather jacket, a holster poking out from underneath. He gives you a sympathetic once over as he sits down besides you, careful not to brush your knee with his own as he does. Considerate.

“Were you given adequate pain medication?” The lady asks abruptly, beginning to type on her keyboard.

You stare at her a moment – she’s all business. “Er… Yeah. Thanks.” Though you’re sure the two of them have noticed the wince as you shuffled in your seat. The medic had offered you stronger stuff but you’d declined, wanting to keep your wits about you. “Sorry, what’s happening now?”

“I’m Ingrid Hunnigan, this is Agent Kennedy.” She nods to the man opposite her.

“Name’s Leon.” The man besides you offers his hand and you notice he’s adapted for your incapacitated arm, in what will surely result in a very awkward handshake but the gesture is nice. You take it, hoping the tremor in your grip isn’t so painfully obvious. “Hi. Erm, I’m-”

“Dove.” Hunnigan cuts you off. “I am aware of your identity, but we will be referring to you as Dove.”

“It’s a codename.” Leon explains, a little less business. “For your safety.”

Hunnigan pauses in her typing, hitting backspace slowly as she replies. “Agent Kennedy will be your protection detail until we get this mess squared up.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her choice of word, a sick feeling twisting in your stomach. “Mess? It was a massacre in there-”

“I know. We know.” The agent besides you stresses. “I’m sorry you had to see all that.”

“Am I the only one who…?” You don’t know why you ask.

“I’m afraid so.” Hunnigan replies, a little softer in tone. “We’re going to send you to a safe house. Agent Kennedy will stay with you.”

“O-okay.” You nod, not taking it all in. “You… You think they’d send whatever that thing was after me?”

“That’s what we need time to establish.” Hunnigan replies. “From the CCTV, after the attack, there was a breach on the database. We need to establish how much data they managed to extract, if any. Agent Kennedy will keep you updated as much as he can when he receives any intel.” She turns more to him then, cutting you out of the conversation. “I’ll send the co-ordinates of the safe house when you’re out of the city. They’re loading up an SUV with supplies for at least a week. If it goes on longer, we’ll arrange a supply drop via another location.”

“That long?” You feel like you’re interrupting.

“Worse case scenario, Dove.” Leon offers you a smile. “I’m sure we’ll have you back home in no time. Did they send you away with any meds?”

“The medic sent in a report – with a treatment plan. It’s in the information pack, prescribed medicine is in with the supplies. Again, enough for a week.” Hunnigan replies. “I’ve arranged clothes too – medic guessed your size for me. We’ll be keeping your phone for now.”

“Why?”

“We can’t allow you to contact anyone – for your safety and theirs.”

Your heart skips a beat at that comment. “Wait… You think I might be behind this, don’t you?”

Hunnigan purses her lips. “It is an avenue we need to explore. There are questions as to why you alone survived. We will be dispatching a team to your residence once the two of you are out of the city to help in our investigation.”

“Again, that’s just protocol.” Leon tries to reassure, but your mind is whirling. “No-one is accusing you of anything, Dove.”

“I… I’ve worked here for years, I passed all the clearance checks. I wouldn’t, I didn’t…”

“As Agent Kennedy said, it’s just protocol. If you have nothing to hide, there is nothing to fear.” Hunnigan resumes tapping away at the keyboard as she talks, pausing as the computer emits a ping. “SUV’s ready. I suggest you two go.”

Leon gets to his feet, once more offering his hand to help you to yours. He smiles, sympathetically, as he takes in your appearance – your face has lost what little colour it had.

“Time to go, Dove. It’ll be all right.”

You want to say no, you feel like you need to stay to plead your innocence, but you catch sight of the gun holstered by his side and the flame of defiance is extinguished. You take his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He places his hand on the small of your back to guide you back through the door and you can’t work out if it should feel like comfort or a threat.

--

You felt numb as Leon had escorted you to a large SUV with blacked out windows in an empty carpark. He’d opened the door for you, helped you climb in before hesitating.

“Need a hand with your seatbelt?”

You stare at him for a moment too long.

“Because of your arm, I mean.”

“Oh. Please.”

He leans over you, grabbing the seatbelt and clicking it into place.

“Right. Comfy?”

“Yeah.” You swallow. “Thanks.”

He nods, closes the door behind him – softly, you note, rather than a slam and it’s then you realise that you also can’t see out the windows. He hops up into the front, buckles his own seatbelt and starts the engine, swinging the SUV out of the parking space with ease. You can’t really see anything from where you’re sat, bar the back of his head and it must be deliberate.

“Hopefully it’s not too long of a drive.” He comments. “Had one that was a twelve hours’ away once and we are not allowed to stop for bathroom breaks.”

“Are you allowed to tell me how far away it is when you know?”

“Don’t see why not. Hunnigan will ping it through once we’re clear enough.”

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed when, eventually, the promised ping echoes around the car. You can hear him tap his fingers against something and he hums to himself.

“We’re in luck – about two hours away, Dove. Want some music on? Don’t have any CDs but got the radio.”

Maybe the music will help drown out how loud your heart is thudding in your ears. ”Yeah, sure.”

He fiddles with the dial – sound crackling around the car before it settles on some acoustic tune you don’t recognize. Must be some easy listening station.

“You can nap, if you like.”

“Maybe.” Though you’re not sure how you’ll ever sleep again after today.

The rest of the drive passes in silence, apart from the sound of the radio. You close your eyes a few times, leaning your head back against the seat but the creature seems burned into your retinas, haunting your vision.

“This is us.” Leon breaks the silence as you feel the car turn and he reduces the speed. He switches off the car and unclicks his seatbelt, turning back to face you. “Wait there just a moment, okay?”

“Yeah.”

 He smiles, opens his door and hops out, again closing the door softly behind him. What must be a few minutes later, your door opens and he once again offers his hand.

“Ready?

You unclip your seatbelt with your good hand before accepting his outstretched one, helping you step down from the SUV. You’re in a garage now of some sort – spacious enough to fit the car and what looks to be a chest freezer, washer and tumble dryer - the whole room illuminated by an orange bulb.

“So, we said safe house – seems more like a safe bungalow to me. I’ll give you the tour.” He gestures forward towards an open door and you walk forward, once again his hand falling to the small of your back. It leads through to a modest sized kitchen – usual white appliances and opens out into a living room with two couches, a coffee table and an entertainment unit with a television. There are two more doors along the wall, but what really strikes you is how small the windows all are, covered in thick panes of glass.

Bulletproof, you wonder.

“Bathroom’s this one,” he opens the door in demonstration, revealing a typical bathroom, before moving along. “And the bedroom.” It has a double bed, white linen sheets, a wardrobe and dresser. “Your bedroom,” he corrects. “I’ll be on the couch.”

“Oh. Is that comfortable?”

He smiles at your concern. “I’m pretty good at sleeping anywhere, but it looks comfortable enough. Speaking of, it’s pretty late so I think we should call it a night.” He ducks into the bathroom, pulling out a washbag from under the sink and empties the contents on the counter. “Standard toiletries kit to start us off. I’m gonna start bringing in the supplies. Sound good?”

You nod and he heads back towards the garage. You kick off your shoes before you step into the bathroom and close the door, twisting the lock closed. You use the facilities with some difficulty, your first visit since being an arm down, though thankful to be in a dress so as not to battle with trousers. After what some might call a best attempt of washing your hand, you pick up the toothbrush and immediately put it back down in annoyance as you realise you’ll need to deal with the toothpaste first. Thankful for the flip cap, the tube slips from your grip as you squeeze, shooting across the counter and knocking a glass off the counter, sending it smashing to the floor.

“Fu-” The word doesn’t even make it out of your mouth when the door is broken open, slammed against the wall and Leon is stood there, gun raised as you scream.

He scans the room with his eyes, concedes it’s clear and lowers his gun. “What happened? You okay?”

“I… I d-dropped the t-t-toothpaste and smashed the g-glass and…” Your breath catches in your throat again, tears burning in your eyes.

“Hey,” he holsters the gun on his thigh. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. Sorry for scaring you. I thought there was a window in here.”

He looks down at the broken glass that’s exploded over the floor and your sock-clad feet. “Sit down, all right? I’ll clear this up.”

“No, I s-should-”

“I can do it. Just sit, please. I’ll go grab a dustpan – they have one. Not my first safe house.” He soothes, heading off into the kitchen cupboards in search of it.

You sit down on the closed toilet seat lid and wonder bitterly if he’s at more safe houses than his own home. You take the moment to try and settle your breathing, your heart still pounding.

Leon appears at the door once more, grinning as he holds the dustpan and brush aloft in triumph. “Found it.” He crouches down, beginning to sweep up the glass. You watch in silence as he tackles the floor methodically, making sure to brush along each square of bathroom tile until he seems satisfied with his work.

“There. All done.” He places it to the side and grabs the troublesome toothpaste tube, before standing up to his full height. “So, this was the culprit, huh?”

You nod. “I don’t know what happened - the only difference was the toothbrush being on the counter, so I should be able to do it, just-”

He picks up the toothbrush and squeezes a blob of toothpaste on it. “On the house.” Leon jokes, offering it back to you. You stand up and accept it, hesitantly.

“I kinda feel pathetic.” You admit.

“Dove…” You’re getting a little used to the name now. It sounds nice off his tongue – soft and sweet. “You’ve had a shitty day, give yourself a break.”

“No, I mean, it just feels like you’re my servant or something – sweeping up, squeezing out my toothpaste...”

“To protect and serve’s the motto.” He smiles at your confused look. “I was a cop before I was an agent.”

“And this is the stuff you did as a cop?”

“Yes, alongside the helping old ladies with their groceries, helping ducks cross the street…” He teases, before nodding at the toothbrush in your hand. “I’ll leave you to it.”

After brushing your teeth without further incident and taking a few more moments to compose yourself, you exit the bathroom. Leon’s stood at the kitchen counter, paper bag in hand, looking at pill packets. There’s a couple of duffel bags near the garage door, one unzipped.

“Medical notes say it’s painkiller time, I’m afraid.” He grabs a glass from the cupboard, fills it up with water from the tap and places it down besides two white pills. “They’ve given you some sleeping tablets as well, but that’s up to you.”

“Do they stop you dreaming?”

Leon grimaces at your question. “From personal experience, yeah. No dreams.”

You hold out your hand. “Then I’ll take them.”

He nods, shaking another two pills out of a bottle and into his hand, picking up the other two and drops them in your hand. You open your mouth and throw them in, before accepting the glass of water, swallowing it all down.

“So, er, this is gonna be a little bit awkward, but I don’t know what you prefer to sleep in, obviously, but I’m assuming not that.”

“Oh. Yeah, no.”

“So, I pulled out a couple of things.” He nods towards the bedroom, where you can see some items of clothing laying out on the bed. He’s turned the bedside lamp on, the room softly illuminated in a white glow.

“You really are a safe house pro.”

“Ha, yeah.” He grins, rubbing the back of his head. “I guess my question is, do you need a hand with changing? 100% respectful offer, obviously.”

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay. After you.”

You walk into the bedroom, Leon keeping his distance this time. There’s an oversized t-shirt in the pile, looks like it will reach your knees. You pick it up with your good hand, clutching it close to your chest and turn to face him.

“Can you help with the sling?”

“Yep.” He nods – professional, unstrapping it with ease and removing it gently. “Afraid medic says you need to sleep with the sling for a week.”

“Mm.” You nod, hanging your arm down loose before turning around. “I guess if you could unzip and I’ll…”

“Got it.” He tugs down the zipper of your dress slowly – if it was some other encounter you’d say he was being a tease. He stops as he reaches the small of your back, just above your underwear. “What can I do now?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, but there’s no getting around it now. “Any good at undoing a bra? Professionally.”

“Professionally, yep.” You feel gentle fingers deftly unclasp it with ease.

“I think I’ve got it from now until the sling needs back on, so-”

“Say no more. Just call when you’re ready.”

The door closes behind you and you exhale, trying to compose yourself. It’s more months since a man had helped you out of a dress and this, after everything today and the situation you’re in, unsure if he sees you as victim or villain, shouldn’t be making you feel flustered.

Gingerly, you slip one arm out of the dress, followed by the other, wincing as you do so and allowing it to pool down at your feet. Next comes your bra, and then you gently pull the t-shirt over your head, again flinching as your shoulder smarts.

Decent, or decent enough, you call out. “Leon? I’m ready.”

“Coming in.” He announces, pausing a moment before opening the door and immediately moves to pick up the sling from where he placed it on the bed. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

With practiced hands, he positions your arm into the sling, adjusting it carefully and fastening it in place once more. “There. Feel okay?”

“Yeah.” You look him in the eyes then – beautiful, blue eyes, before fighting back a yawn. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “That will be the sleeping pills kicking in. I forgot to mention they’re real heavy duty.”

“Mm.” You sit down on the bed then, a little too heavily, before picking up your discarded dress on the floor. “Could you bin this?”

“Of course.” He takes it from you, no question. “Anything else I can do?”

“No. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to keep thanking me, Dove. It’s all right – I told you, part of the job.”

“Still, thank you.” You mumble, head feeling heavy.

“Here,” he pulls back the covers as you scooch yourself back and lean your head back on the pillow, tucking the duvet in over you. “Arm still okay?”

You nod, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

“I swear what happened wasn’t anything to do with me. I swear.”

“Shh,” Leon hushes. “I know.” He feels it in his gut, felt it since the moment he lay eyes on you in Hunnigan’s office. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll hear some updates. But, for now, just sleep. Okay, Dove?”

“Sleep, okay…” You mumble, closing your eyes.

Leon hovers a moment, noting the change in your breathing as the sleeping pills pull you under. He turns off the bedside lamp and leaves the bedroom, quietly, your dress clutched in his hand. He places it in the kitchen bin – there’s an incinerator round the back to erase all trace of their visit, but he’ll do that in the morning.

He makes his way over to the sofa and lies down, not even bothering to remove his boots.

He won’t be sleeping tonight.

-- Do let me know if you'd be interested in a part two! x EDIT: Part two!

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[zahlibeth]

look ma, i made mittens!

fingerless of course, because I need the dexterity for holding the hand of a squirmy six year old, or typing on my phone. I like them extra long and then I can curl my fingers into the body of the gloves when it gets really cold!

yarn arapey and pocion - malabrigo ultimate sock, 2.75mm needles ohhh this yarn is beautiful and easy to work with and both skeins were much more even than the last sock yarn I used. I knit two-at-a-time so one mitten comes from the start of the skein and one from the end and both pairs of mittens are very evenly matched.

patterns in both cases I ignored the suggested cuff length and just did about an inch of ribbing before starting the increases. Then I kept knitting the body of the glove until about the first knuckle on my little finger and mirrored the ribbing before binding off.

arapey (light): hidden gusset by mone dräger - would recommend, this one was a delight. I'm affectionately mad at the beautiful half-twisted rib because it takes so long but it looks so much better than standard 1x1 rib. The travelling diagonal will cause an issue at some point for two-at-a-time, but you can always sneak stitches round to the other needle by careful use of stitch markers etc. The slow rib section is balanced by the nice easy knit section round the middle, so it goes fast at that point. I picked up 5 stitches over the thumb rather than 3 and then immediately reduced, and also did the reduction in pattern. It's not perfect, but the resulting diamond is a fun little hidden detail.

Bind off is Jeny's surprisingly stretchy bind off done in pattern (so ktbl) with a 3.5mm crochet hook.

pocion (dark): carbon fingerless mitts by shanna felice - LOVE the design on these. do not recommend this specific pattern (this one may be better? it also demonstrates a two-tone version I love, which helps clarify how it works too, though it's a one-float vs a two-float version). The hexagons are cute and super easy to do, it's just scooping floats up and the pattern is easy to remember. Plus it looks very cool on variagated yarn like this. For this specific pattern the thumb is particularly Weird, it's way way too big - I tried to hide it a little in the photos but it does gape strangely around the base of the thumb and I had to put some hardcore decreasing into the thumb itself. The irony is that I did this pattern second and it's the same yarn, so I really should have been able to spot the glaring difference in the number of stitches reserved for the thumb - 19 vs 28?! Also this pattern had no suggestion to pick up stitches over the gap when joining for the thumb?? I ignored that of course, picked up 5 as above and figured out a lil set of decreases before starting the ribbing so they're wearable. The picture from cast off, before they'd been stretched out by wearing, is hilarious:

The body of the gloves is bigger too, which was somewhat on purpose, so I used a different bind off which is less stretchy - k1, k1, knit both through the backloop. Felt very weird to bind off with a knitting needle, I just always default to a crochet hook. I suppose there's nothing stopping me doing this bind off with a hook??

other notes still hardcore recommend two-at-a-time despite the need to wiggle the pattern occasionally. There are some places in each pair where I messed up a tiny bit, but I messed up identically which makes it very easy to just quietly fix and move on. It's a pain to get started for my usual cast-on and join, but I figured a way around that too. I ended up casting on and joining the entire first mitten, and shifting it out of the way. Then you cast on half (+1) of the stitches for the next mitten on to the "front" needle, and purlwise point-to-point shift them on to the back needle. Then cast the remaining stitches (easiest to do if you hold the needles 90 degrees to each other) and do my usual join which involves carrying the first stitch back to the front needle, passing over the last stitch and slipping the last stitch off.

I deliberately set these up so the lighter pair are...lighter - they're a tighter fit and a little less warm. The darker pair are a little looser to trap air and bulkier with all those hexagon lines, perfect for the winter. Yes, colour wise it looked better to photograph the light with the winter snow and the dark with the autumn leaves, but we can ignore that for the aesthetics.

I have never worn gloves so consistently as I'm wearing both of these, they are so fucking comfortable I'm in love.

[starfruitgalaxy]

The thing that sucks about wanting to be forcefemmed as a trans woman is that there is the argument that it’s just consensual fem.

And I’m not going to dispute that. Kind of sucks though because even though I’ve come out as trans for multiple years I still haven’t taken any other major steps aside from meds

I haven’t really done makeup ever but I’m trying to get into it now. And I’ll be honest it makes me feel so much better not seeing my boring face but my face that is shaved and made cute.

Little foundation, little contour, little blush, eyeshadow, mascara, and strawberry red lipstick makes me feel so much better

I got thigh highs somewhere but I don’t really wear them often, though they help me feel better because I can ignore the fact that my legs are unshaved because I don’t have the attention to take care of them.

The same story goes for my arms, I just got some fingerless glove arm warmers and they make me feel less dysphoric putting them on.

All those things together I feel a little better about myself, but I still put on shorts and tshirts on all the time, maybe a bra when I’m in public, but not really enough dresses or stuff beyond that so I can get a bit dysphoric, a fish out of water

It would just be really nice if I went to a gay bar or a friendly party something and a cute trans girl brings me over her place and hypnotizes me and the next time I come to I’m just her pretty princess and I can’t even deny it because any words I would use to put myself down have been flushed out of my vocabulary and so I’m just stammering my words and blushing and melting and shutting down as I finally accept the fact that I’m a really cute, submissive girl now

What was I saying again?

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Blow Your Top Off

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: angst, being picked on and teased, blowing up and saying something hurtful

Summary: By day, you're a badass Avenger with fire powers. By night, you're a chemistry student just looking to get a degree. Things would go so much smoother if Loki wasn't there to bother you every single time.

Squares Filled: free space (2021) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Another successful mission down and your day isn’t even halfway over yet. Off goes your Avengers clothes and on goes your casual clothes. Your Avengers outfit consists of stretchy spandex, leather knee-high boots, knife holsters, a fire-resistant jacket and fingerless gloves, and cute cat earrings to top it off. Your public attire consists of leggings, boots that scrunch at your ankles, an oversized sweater, and a cute headband with little ducks on them. 

No one would be able to tell that the badass Avenger is now a snuggly college-going woman. You grab the things you need for all of your classes and cram them into what feels like the smallest backpack ever. You grab your laptop bag and head out of your bedroom to join the others in the main room.

Only a few more semesters of this. You can do this.

“I’ll be back at two in the morning. Don’t wait up for me.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” Natasha says. “To work physically then mentally sounds exhausting.”

“It’s not easy but if I want my biochemistry degree, I have to.”

Your love for science and chemistry is almost as big as your love for being an Avenger and helping people.

“Hey,” Bruce says and comes out of his lab, “when you get back, I’ll have the lab unlocked for you.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you guys later.”

A lot of the time, you, Bruce, and Tony would spend time together in the labs to create different chemicals and hone your skills as a scientist. They do their best to push you to the limit which you’re thankful for. There are things you won’t learn in college that Tony and Bruce can teach you. You leave the tower and walk down the street to the nearest subway. You don’t have a car but you like taking public transportation. It helps you calm your mind before a stressful day in school or at work. You don’t have to worry about driving laws or other people because you can sit back and focus on other things.

People pass by you without a second glance because they don’t recognize you without your Avenger gear on. You’re kind of glad that you’re not seen as a celebrity like Tony. You like separating your personal life and work life. You’re not paying much attention to those around you but you do notice when you see familiar black shoes in your vision.

Loki saw you leave the tower and decided to join you on your walk to school. Out of all the Avengers you deal with, Loki has to be the worst one. It started off as a dislike but it’s creeping into annoyance and hatred territory. All he does is play pranks on you, always trying to one-up you on missions, annoys the shit out of you, and generally isn’t a good person when it comes to you. To others, he’s quiet and minds his own business so you don’t know why you’re the outlier.

“Leave me alone, Loki,” you sigh and continue to walk.

“What? It’s good to have a buddy in the city. You never know when someone will come up to you and grab you.”

“If they try that, I’ll burn them,” you smile sarcastically. Not only are you a badass Avenger, but you also have fire powers you know how to use well. You look at Loki with fire in your eyes. “Do you want a demonstration?”

Loki chuckles, completely unaffected by your threat.

“Darling, I’d ice you out before you even got the chance.”

“Don’t call me that,” you glare and walk faster to get away from him.

“Whatever you say, love.”

You two get to the subway and walk onto the same subway car. The bastard even sits next to you even though there are other empty seats around. Since it’s past eight at night on a weekday, the subways have been cleared of everyone bustling to and from their jobs. You put in your headphones to block out Loki’s chatter even though he continues to talk.

You’re not sure why he’s going to the same college as you, or why he’s even going to college in the first place. He claims he wants to try more human things like college but you don’t believe him. He got himself enrolled in the same classes as you as if he’s actually interested in chemistry. You’re here to work hard to further your career while he’s here to mock you. 

He uses magic to cheat for the right answers, which is another reason why you hate him. He can do things effortlessly and nothing bad ever happens to him. The subway ride only takes twenty minutes but being with Loki makes it feel like it’s for longer. 

For the first class you two have, Loki tries to disrupt your train of thought or messes up your notes so you have to start all over. He continues this behavior for your next two classes so much that you’re about ready to burn this entire building down with him inside of it. He’s picking something off your sweater and is talking about something he noticed about the previous Avengers mission and it’s starting to get to you.

You grip the sides of your desk and allow your fire powers to flare angrily. Your powers even burn the edges of the desk to a dark char.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I will blow your fucking head off,” you hiss at him.

By the last class, you’re just trying not to cry. Loki is really pressing your buttons and you’re trying to be nice and civil about it. If he continues then he’s not going to like what comes out of you. For someone with fire powers, you’re usually very tame. However, when you get pissed, everyone better stays out of your way because you can be very harsh.

“I’m warning you right now, stop,” you whisper to him.

Loki pokes your side once and that’s enough to make you blow up. You stand up so angrily that you kick your chair back several feet behind you.

“Shut the fuck up!! God, you’re an annoying little prick!” you scream at him. Everyone, including the teacher, stops what they’re doing to look at you. “No one at the tower wants you there, you’re always butting into everyone’s business like it’s yours, and I’m shocked you were ever loved in the first place! Odin should have left you on Jotunheim! No wonder people like Thor better!”

Loki stares at you with his mouth open and hurt written across his features. Yes, he knew this was coming. He knew if he continued to bug you, this would come out and bite him in the ass. He just never knew how much it’ll hurt.

“Y/N! Loki! Please exit my class,” the professor scowls. “Make your way to the Dean’s office.”

You huff in anger and gather your things while Loki sits there dumbfounded. He brought this on himself but he can’t help but feel hurt at your words. You’re the first one out of the classroom with Loki trailing behind you slowly. The Dean didn’t have anything helpful to add since she told you to go talk to the counselor who might help with your anger issues.

You’re not sure why this is necessary but you don’t want to get expelled from this school. You’ve worked too hard to let Loki ruin it all for you, so you go to her office without question. You and Loki have been sitting in her office for the past thirty minutes without saying a word to each other.

“Do you have anything to say to each other?”

You turn away from Loki without looking at him, proving to him that you really don’t want to look at him. It took everything in you not to use your powers on him.

“Okay, we’re going to try something.” She reaches into her desk and produces two pens and two pieces of paper that she passes to you two. “You’re going to write something you like about the other. Just one thing. Can you do that or should I get the Dean in here?”

The fear of getting expelled is enough for you to comply with her silly request. You cross your legs and use your thigh as a base so you can write on the paper. Loki sees you doing this so he decides to do this, too. You peek over at Loki to see something shining on his wrist. He always has the best things to wear since he brings them from Asgard. On his wrist is a shiny gold bracelet that has the stars woven into the sides of it.

It’s pretty, you guess. You can’t think of anything else since you’re still pissed at him so you write that you love his bracelet. Once you’re done, you fold the paper and hand it over to Loki. He’s finished writing and folded his own but only takes yours instead of exchanging it. He opens it, reads it, folds it back up, and pockets it.

“What about my note?”

“I couldn’t think of anything.”

He grabs his bag and leaves the office before you can say anything to him. The counselor sighs and writes something down on her pad.

“Listen, I’ve seen your record. This is your first offense. I only wanted to keep the peace here. Don’t do it again.”

You grab your bag with a huff and leave her office without another word. Prick, you think to yourself. Loki isn’t there when you ride the train back to the Tower. You’re so exhausted that you’re not even going to go into the lab to do some extra work. Your mind is too preoccupied with Loki to care about anything else. What you said was mean and you shouldn’t have said it, but he makes you so fucking pissed.

You walk into your room and dump your bookbag onto your bed so you can put everything away. You get to the last few items when you see a plastic baggie at the bottom of your bag. It wasn’t there when you left the Tower earlier. Inside the baggie is Loki’s bracelet and a note. You open the note and read Loki’s delicate handwriting.

I couldn’t think of just one thing. Everything about you is amazing. I am sorry for bothering you.

If you felt bad before, you feel guilty now. Loki has had a thing for you ever since he came to the tower, but he doesn't know how to deal with these new emotions. Everyone always chose Thor instead of him. He never ended up with the girl so he never got the feeling of liking someone. He messes with you because at least your attention is on him, but he never knew just how bad he was affecting you.

What the hell are you going to do now?

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[hijinxinprogress]

Cissie’s always on the news but it’s never coverage about her performance during or after an Olympic competition, it’s always about what she’s been doing that the JL sends their protégés to interrogate her so often

So Cissie’s like in the Olympics right?? She most likely has a bunch of fans and paparazzi following her like there’s probably so many videos of Cissie just being grabbed in public by YJ

There’s a video of every time Bart has just scooped Cissie up and dipped spliced together 😭 like she’ll be in the middle of a sentence whether it’s to friends or on a live interview then you blink and she’s fucking gone “Bart istg!! I warned you the next time you messed up my hair…” “Will you still be mad at me if we stop by that restaurant you like in Thailand?” “…You’re so lucky rn”

Kon dropping down from the sky and winking at every camera as he picks Cissie up before flying away. It starts a rumor that they’re dating and Cissie just starts roasting him every time she gets asked about Superboy in an interview “that guy?? He’s still pining over his ex” “He’s cute ig but his cologne ruins it, it’s so terrible” “I can’t deal with the abandonment issues, talk about clingy…” and now there’s a bunch of people that think they’re bitter exes failing to rekindle their relationship esp bc Kon does the same thing when he’s asked about his relationship with the gold medalist Olympic archer Cissie King Jones “She’s always training so she never had time for me” “God, the temper on that one? I feared for my life when we lived together” “she’s so picky, oh my god” “she’s like incapable of being open with her emotions”

Cassie turns it into a game they either try to sneak up on Cissie while people are watching and “discretely” filming as Cassie jokingly shushes someone that’s trying to warn Cissie or does the “guess who it is” thing but they just pick Cissie up and fucking fly away while Cissie’s halfway through a sentence (Cassie thinks it’s hilarious and Cissie is not having it bc “I’ve watched you pick up sidewalks with your bare hands…get your hands off my face rn” “I wear gloves???” “Yeah and they’re fingerless you moron!”)

Tim does an elaborate disguise (he pretended to be a reporter at least twenty-seven times and Cissie hates it bc she still gets shit for accidentally maiming an actual reporter bc Tim would tranquillize her while disguised as a reporter and then grapple away) but now he just grabs her grapples away bc he tranquilized her for movie night once and she tried to murder him but sometimes they reenact dramatic scenes from whatever show/movie or anime they watched last while the rest of yj laughs

Anita just mind controls security and pretends to kidnap her or opens a portal under Cissie that drops her from like a foot in the air “Wanna see a magic trick?” “Get the hell away from me Anita” Cissie will complain every time she sees Anita bc she keeps purposely dropping her “why am I the ONLY person who fell and you portaled the entire team” “Idk maybe you just suck??” Anita has made Cissie do the robot during a live interview and it went viral also bc they’re nerds they reenact anime fights all the time. And somehow despite Anita being the fastest if Anita gets Cissie, they’re usually late bc they stop somewhere in the Caribbean to sit down in a restaurant and get food “You’re literally magic how tf are you late…?” “We definitely didn’t stop to get food” “There’s food HERE! It’s was your idEA!!”

Greta just makes Cissie look like she’s flying mid conversation (there’s a disembodied voice going on about how happy they are that Cissie wants to spend time with them in between laughter) and doesn’t show herself until they’re halfway to wherever their taking her “Cissie, you’re a meta??!” “No, it’s Secret” “ohhh, you want me to this keep a secret? Got it!” “Wait no, I’m not a-!” And Greta’s giggling the entire time but suddenly goes quiet when Cissie tries to get her to say hi and prove that Cissie’s not a meta

But Cissie’s civilian friends are so concerned bc they know her and what nefarious intentions do these costumed menaces have?? What are they going to do to Cissie?? So they start recording Cissie getting ‘kidnapped’ and end up catching the shit Cissie and YJ say to each other out of context:

“Ooh, that’s aioli! It is, I promise! It’ll come out with a little detergent istg” 

“I haven’t seen you in foreverrrrr” “I literally saw you last week” “that’s soo longggggg”

“We’re gonna have a long talk about your eating habits…!” “Yeah, okay, mom…Why don’t we have a long talk about your cologne? How do you have enhanced senses and still make awful olfactory choices…?”

“I’m gonna vomit…what the hell are you wearing?? Axe??” “Don’t even! you know damn well-”

“Don’t pretend you can flirt, you’ve been single since birth” “you’re a very angry person and you should see someone about that”

“Cissie babe, guess whooooo~?” “Get your hands off my fucking-!”

“If you stop screaming, I’ll buy you a milkshake!” “STOP KIDNAPPING ME IN THE MIDDLE OF INTERVIEWS!”

“Wdym?? I know it’s you I smell that nasty ass concoction…If you don’t take off that stupid ass disguise, you fuCKING-!!”

“If you tranq me one more fucking time, Robin, you’re getting an arrow in the ass!” “Is that really how you should talk to someone who’s saved your ass so many times?”

“Constantine, get better at fucking aiming!” “…Constantine?! I should drop you in a fucking volcano!”

“Oops…” “mf 😑 you did that shit on purpose” “What are you a lawyer?? Fucking prove it”

[Usually there’s an exasperated green lantern trying to do damage control and failing to chastise YJ “Nononono! Put the civilian down we talked about this! You need proof and evidence, this is an abduction!” “They know each other istg Ms. King Jones is fine, she’s perfectly safe” as the cameraman slowly turns the camera to Cissie free falling from 90ft in the air and screaming]

[aeliem]

@zucchiyeni's dtiys

design credits: dust by @safwunsies nightmare by @justanidiotartist horror by @westaysilly killer by @zucchiyeni

timelapse & ramblings under the cut

i tried to put this in the tags but it was way too long so here are my.... ramblings? design notes? process? watever it is it's here now

killer is the one i changed the least, even the pose is pretty much the same i kept the asymetrical design from the dtiys (w/ one sleeve rolled up & only one shoulder w/ spikes) for the shoes i kinda went watever & put the spikes in the middle (i bet you it caused some of the holes in his jeans) i like to think he chose blue soles bc he did a collab w/ nightmare so that he's not the only one w/ cool colors his main color is still red, but i made the leather, t-shirt, metal & jeans blue-ish as a complementary color

for nightmare, i don't even know if his design is canon, but when i saw that the murder time trio did collabs w/ him i knew i had to draw it i didn't touch the base design itself but i switched the colors around a lot bc i really didn't know how to make it work w/ the rest of the characters i kept the base palette (blue/cyan, purple & pink) but had purple as a main & cyan as an accent color (pink itself is only there in the glitter) also yeah i put the glitter on his coat instead of his tentacles cuz i wanted to show his bones & tentacles are made/covered in the same goopy stuff, and the glitter kinda went in the way of that i like that his colors are really different from the other & you can tell he goes solo while they're in a band, but i think it's not too distracting

horror is my favorite, like he's just enjoying himself in the back its kinda sad i had to hide him behing both his drums & killer, i might post a version w/out it to show it off the drums were a pain in the ass ngl, i've never played them so i had to look at a lot of references in the end i just drew a basic drum set w/ the colors on the ref (red & gold), i added silver for the metal bits bc it's everywhere in the other's designs his design itself is unchanged, i just thought having him in red only felt boring so i added orange to his fur & shirt

i realized too late i couldn't show dust's head w/ the pose i drew T-T also drew his entire outfit then had to hide half of it because of his guitare this is why planning is important people his guitare rocks tho (pun intended) i tried to make him red & purple to match his eyes, but currently it's more of an orange salmon color w/ a dark grey pink eeeh the intent is there i guess i made his gloves fingerless cuz you can't tell me this dude plays guitare w/ full on gloves like i know they're skeletons but that's physically impossible i also added a strap to his guitare cuz unless he's using blue magic, he probably can't keep it up w/ only his right hand

[orangepeelshortbreadcookies]

Why, if this isn't one of the most disgusting news I've heard this week, second only to that of RFK Jr.'s modern Moby Dick real life adaptation. I guess what I wish John Glaser would do this season is: Do your fucking homework this time? Or work with someone who actually knows what the hell they are doing? Take a serious lesson or more in East Asian historical outfits, and actually consider with respect what works in East Asian (possibly South Korean) period dramas in terms of their costume design and Hair & Makeup.

And the easiest fix they could attempt with season 4? Get rid of the plastic, chemical-wastes coloured fabrics and the teabag fingerless gloves/Shein's self-harm bandages. Throw them in the trash, burn them in a furnace where they belong.

This is the show's last chance to do right by a story with an Asian woman lead. They have an opportunity to engage with a gigantic audience in East Asia and a large part of South East Asia. We're generally very welcoming to see our stories being told on a global stage (you can see the proof of that in the way many major news channels in EA have embraced and expressed excitement for Yerin). But that doesn't mean we will accept our cultures being disrespected, and we can be vicious when they are. See how Disney's live-action Mulan did abysmally in China? One reason for that disappointment was the ugly, underwhelming costuming. Had John Glaser spent 2 minutes considering India's fashion history with respect, he would have learned how rich, colourful and intricate a relationship Indians have with their fabrics and embroideries. The same goes for many East/South East Asian countries. I guess we just don't want to be treated like idiots and our cultures getting visually desecrated. I don't think that's too much to ask.

[tinknevertalks]

I made my friend some fingerless gloves with a mitten bit and she loves them!

(Under the cut: more pics and a (long-ish) story time.)

Backstory, at school pick up there's three of us who stand and chat: me, C, and S (C and S have kids in the same years, mine are inbetween theirs). Recently, the weather has been Weathering, so I've been wearing my wrist warmers/fingerless gloves, and that day C had her pair on (her partner knitted hers and they are Stunning). S said she wanted a pair, and had looked everywhere, and on Etsy, but there was so much choice, and what material were they using because she wanted wool (better for the environment as its biodegradable) and it all got too much and she'd click away. So I asked, what colour? Do you want a thumb bit? And she realised I was offering to make her a pair.

(I don't offer to many people, as they don't recognise the time/effort that goes into making things by hand, but she does. I made her a hat a few years ago too.)

A few days later, she messages asking if it was a genuine offer and if so, could she have a mitten bit? Yup, I can do that. She buys me the yarn and off I go, making it up as I go.

I forget how nice it is to work with proper, 100% wool. She got a ball of the West Yorkshire Spinners Colour Lab yarn, aran weight, a week ago Wednesday (it would've been the Monday, but the good yarn/craft shop doesn't open until Wednesday). Got to work that night.

If you're making for someone, get their measurements. I didn't, and S is super slim, so I couldn't put them on my hand to test size/length/what have you. Anyhoo, by the next Monday (so start of this week) I had something she could try on.

She was so excited! We chatted about making them a touch longer on the wrist, and making the mitt bit a bit more curved, but apart from that she loved them!

Finished the first one. Started the second. Part way through the mitt I lose yarn chicken. 🙈 Next morning I send her a message, asking if she could get another ball (because I'd mentioned previously, "Oh, if I need more I'll buy a ball," and she point blank said, "No, I will.") and she does.

I gave them to her today. She was so excited she actually said, "I'm going to put them on now!" with so much glee in her voice. I then had to explain I put some toggles on to keep the mitt bit down. The happiness when she saw the flowers! I said, "I spun that yarn, and I'm pretty sure it's wool, I did a burn test and yeah." I got a hug! She was over the moon. XD

It's the same golden brown I used on the edge of my massive shawl. :)

Nice part has been C asking for updates too (sometimes she can't do pick up), so she knew before S about the flower appliqués (because I wanted them to be a surprise).

Next pair to finish will be the ones I'm making my dad. It's nice to have my crochet mojo back, if only for a little while. :)

[gracklecracklepop]

hi! as an artist, i was wondering now the designs for the pd characters would change in this au! also, would you mind if i drew them? if I posted it i would tag you in it.

also I'm kind of curious how the characters dynamics would change based on their new location and changes in backstories. would they treat each other the same as in canon, or would it be different?

hope these questions aren't too strange or annoying. have a nice day, or night or whatever!

AHHH OKAY OKAY THIS IS A GOOD ONE UHH (IDM IF U TAG ME IN ART) UHEHSH

william definitely dresses just like a hoodie and cargo pants (to store the goods), and he likes to keep just like one of those n95 masks either on or around his neck cuz he likes hiding the teeth. he has the same deal as arthur had with his arms, so they’re just dark/black veins/etc.

dakota just goes with tank top white shirt and jeans with the addition of a denim jacket i think. or a denim vest he would 100% cut the sleeves off of stuff for ✨strategy . not much change i think

vyncentttttt. doesn’t come from a fantasy world this time. so i’m kinda lost on his design but im going to just say. the sweats and the knife shirt are eternal. he has like fingerless gloves and steel toed boots in my head

ashe definitely has more emo stuff because she’s actually allowed to develop that style this time, so she definitely dresses a little bit moreee extravagant. specifically thinking long skirt, boots, those like striped hand sleeves and socks. it’s mostly all black

now character dynamics are definitely different because there’s a lot more violence against them. vyncent meets dakota and william by them hunting him down. ashe meets the pd in the direct aftermath of the club crepescule fire. there’s a lot more just friend on friend violence i think but they are still like bonded for life dogs