#t;self para

[heyymikki]

lamb to the s l a u g h t e r

LOCATION: Hotel in Las Vegas FEATURED: @giovanniiricci @elliottortegax MENTIONED: @maevemacnally, @nikodimopoulos

It was done.

The article she had been working on for months was finished and had been posted both on the Tribune's website and on the front page of the print edition.

It was strange how her feelings for the town and the people in it had significantly changed since she had agreed to Dante's ultimatum nearly three years ago. A place she had never anticipated feeling any attachment to had become home, the people in it her friends and family. Now, with it all in jeopardy, she couldn't in good conscience stand aside and let it happen without putting up a fight to make up for her part in it all. What better way to stick it to the head of the organization that had blackmailed her than to use those same connections to out him for who he really was?

And yet... she had miscalculated. What she had viewed as a mercy of not pulling her friend into it ahead of time given all she was going through turned out to be the exact opposite, blindsiding her friends with the reminder of what they had lost.

Grief reared its head in all kinds of ways, but she hadn't expected the pushback. She hadn't expected the anger from Maeve and her family when she thought she was doing something to help, keeping the names of those lives lost at the forefront of the conversation -- a reminder that they hadn't been forgotten, that there were still people searching for the answers to why they had had their lives senselessly taken from them. Now, because of her own selfish pursuit of redemption, she had hurt others and possibly ruined their friendship for good.

Every day since Niko had told her of the collapse of Los Santos -- and as a result, her ring of protection -- she waited for the businessman to retaliate. There was nothing: no refuting her claims, no spinning of some kind of PR story to explain away the evidence she had found. The silence was deafening.

Still, life moved forward. She still had to go to work, put a smile on her face like she wasn't terrified of the other shoe dropping. The weekend of the music festival quickly approached, and she tried to allow herself to enjoy the idea of letting go and forgetting her cares for even a few hours, even though the last couple of events hadn't gone well. But first, she had to meet a client.

Luna had gotten a request for an evening on the Friday of the festival weekend. Niko insisted she cancel, but she figured before she had to face the ire of those in town she'd upset, she could have the distraction of a night in Vegas. To appease him, she kept her personal phone on her with her location enabled as she made her way to the meeting place.

The opulent hotel lobby shimmered in bright white marble with accents of gold throughout. It was enough to tell her that whoever her client was had a lot of money. If she did well tonight, she wouldn't have to work for a little while. She could help Niko with the restaurant, or they could go to Greece like they had talked about. It felt so long ago already, though it had only been a few weeks realistically.

"Excuse me," she greeted the man behind the check-in counter with a smile. "I was told there would be a key waiting for Luna?"

"Ah, yes, I have that here for you." He pulled out a drawer beneath the desk and pulled a keycard from inside, double checking the room number before jotting it down onto the sleeve.

"Thank you. Is he already up there?" Receiving a nod in response, she smiled and thanked him once more before heading to the elevators, heading for one of the penthouse suites. These were her last few moments alone before she'd have to put on an act for the remainder of the evening. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath, trying to brush away the uneasy feeling settling like a weight in her chest. Just one night, then she'd be able to work on everything else later.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to the appropriate floor, and she searched for the appropriate room number. Usually when clients left a key at reception, they wanted things to keep things discrete, so she didn't bother to knock, using the key to let herself in.

The room was dim with only a few lamps lit around the common area, and she didn't immediately notice anyone inside. A table in the eat-in kitchen was set with two glasses of wine and two plates covered by metal domes to trap the heat inside and keep it fresh, but she caught whiffs of something earthy and sweet. "Hello?" she called. Maybe he was getting cleaned up, she thought. "Is anyone here?"

"Hello, Miss Beaumont."

Every bone in her body stiffened at his voice. She'd listened to enough interviews and campaign speeches to know the voice of Giovanni Ricci.

If only she had trusted her gut.

Giovanni casually strode from one of the side rooms, a coy smile on his lips like a cat who'd cornered its prey. She backed up towards the door but was immediately halted in her pursuit by a broad, hard chest behind her. The security guard gripped onto her arms to hold her in place as another locked the door.

"I'm so glad you could join me this evening. Please, sit." Giovanni motioned towards the seat across the table as he took his own, unbutton his suit jacket as he did so.

Mikayla was forced into the seat, though she struggled to get out of the guard's grasp. He grabbed the decanter full of red wine and poured some into each of their glasses. "You're not an easy person to get alone, you know." When she didn't respond, he continued. "I read your article, of course. It wasn't entirely accurate, but I was genuinely impressed by what you managed to uncover. I don't imagine you could have done that without help." His gaze flicked up to meet hers. "I'm curious to know who your sources were."

"I wouldn't be a decent journalist if I didn't protect the anonymity of my sources," she replied.

Giovanni chuckled. "You'd be surprised at what information even a person with integrity is willing to share when they're subjected to pain beyond imagination."

Mikki held her breath. "Is that what you're going to do to me?"

"Perhaps. It depends on you, really." He held his glass in the air, waiting for her to do the same. He raised an expectant brow, the silent tension growing every moment she delayed. Finally, she lifted her own glass and held it up, allowing him to gently tap them together. "I'm hoping it won't come to that if we can reach some kind of agreement."

"Is that all you want to know? My sources?"

"Mm, well," he started after a sip of the wine, "right now, yes, but questions beget questions and so on and so forth." He waved a dismissive hand in the air. "You know how it goes."

"No, actually. This is my first time being interrogated for information."

The other guard who had locked the door came to the table to lift the covers off the plates, revealing a filet paired with mushrooms in some sort of wine cream sauce and mixed vegetables on the side. If it had been offered by anyone else, she would have begun eating right away, but she didn't trust that none of the food had been poisoned or tampered with. That didn't stop the man from digging into his own dinner.

"It's rude not to eat," he remarked, watching her.

"It's rude to kidnap someone, too," she retorted.

"I'd hardly call it kidnapping when you came of your own volition," Giovanni chuckled again. "I suppose if you don't eat it, our other guest will."

Mikayla furrowed her brow. "Other guest?"

As if on cue, the muffled sound of a groan came from the room Giovanni had come from. Mikayla's eyes darted in that direction, her heart racing in her chest. She wouldn't put it past him to use someone in her life to get her to talk based off of everything else she'd learned about the man, but the number of people it could be had become an ever-growing list over the last few years. Who could he have grabbed without anyone else noticing?

"Ah, he's awake. Bring him here, would you?" Giovanni didn't even look up to address the guard, but the man nodded and made his way into the room, grappling with whoever was being held there.

Mikayla's eyes grew wide as a bloodied Elliott was dragged into the room and thrust into the third chair at the table. "Dad! What is he doing here? What did you do to him?!"

"I've grown tired of the traitors within my organization who believe I don't know of their disloyalty," Giovanni replied in a bored tone around the steak in his mouth. The man glanced across the table at her, face stoic. "He's been watching you and your mother for years using our resources. If only he'd done more to hide his allegiances, I might have believed he was true to the cause."

Her father was a part of The Enterprise? The news shook her to her core, but she did her best not to let Giovanni see it. The last thing he needed to know was another one of her weaknesses to use against her.

"If you tell me what I want to know, you both can walk out of here and you'll never have to worry about me again. And if you don't... Well." He smirked. "I'll be forced to get creative."

[keremdogulu]

TYPE: Self Para @berat-yalaz

PART ONE OF TWO.

SUMMARY: This is a part of his reply to @emine--yalaz but also his self para.

Keder, aşk için ödediğimiz bedeldir.

To breathe again, he wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

"It's..." Emine had said "Berat."

"What happ-- " he knew. The look on her face, the floor threatened to swallow him whole. "Is...is he hurt?" It was the same denial he'd had three weeks ago, but this one was the worst kind.

Kerem was pretty sure he might fucking pass out.

This surreality? It was roaring in his ears, unable to focus on anything as the world fell into silent chaos. The familiar timber of Berat's voice echoed through his mind, that laugh that so often made him feel at home nothing but dread that was collecting within him. The clogging in the back of his throat, the familiar burning behind his eyes as the pressure built and built.

Gone? Gone, gone? Not just hurt, there would be no recovery.

De-- no. He couldn't.

His world was crumbling, on fire, spreading and catching onto everything he held dear. Kerem was descending into madenning chaos, into the unknown and he'd never known such undiluted terror before. His nose burned every time he tried to bring air into his body, to keep himself from passing out from the spot in which he stood.

The look on Emine's face broke everything he'd known about his resolve, the way she -- for the life of him, it tore him apart to see her in such disarray. In such unbridled pain. He was frozen, unmoving, and unable to voice exactly how the world seemingly stopped moving. Berat was his brother, they'd fought side by side together for so long that it'd been natural.

Three weeks had felt like torture, even if he'd been pissed.

Friends fought...all the time, right?

He wasn't sure if it was because he was scared he was going to collapse, or because he needed to hold her again, but his arms found her, pulling her close as he tried to keep them here. His mind was spinning, and his world was imploding.

He wasn't going to be able to keep this upcoming eruption at bay much longer, he could feel it winding through his bloodstream and speeding straight for his faltering heart. It was breaking, more than anything could ever possibly break.

Irreplaceable. Irreparable.

Kerem tried to swallow, heaving in the process.

This...this was not real. It couldn't be real.

"Please." The words were but a whimper, his lashes fluttering as they collected water droplets in their erratic dance. "Oh god, you're wrong. You've gotta be -- " The second the words left his mouth, they tasted like ash. The truth seeped into the knowing part of his brain. "this is not happening."

Kerem had done this. This was his fucking fault.

They had been laughing so wildly, that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to stop, ever be able to breathe again with this feeling of freedom. Berat had been narrating some fucking show as they'd lounged around doing fuck all. Those had been simpler times, even if things had never been simple in the first place. Berat had always had a way of bringing out a more relaxed version of Kerem, always pushing him to do things that he might have shied away from. They had been a duo, there had never been one without the fucking other. And now.

Kerem couldn't remember what had been so damn funny now, but he wished he did. He wished he could remember every single fucking moment he'd been blessed by his best friend's presence. How could he have gone back to that, but that voice in his head came for him 'Because you threw him away without regard for everything he's done for you over Nevra'

He slammed backward, pulling away from Emine. His palms found his eyes as he pushed and pushed.

No. No. No. No. No.

He wished he could go back three weeks and say something different. Be different.

Nevra's name came to mind and he couldn't stop himself as his legs rushed to the nearest bin, he emptied the contents of his stomach in such a violent fashion he gasped trying to claw air back into his throat through the blinding tears. Berat couldn't be gone. But he was.

Kerem had hurt everyone he loved in that fallout, and it'd ended with his best friend's life. If the guilt hadn't been there before, it was now attempting a sniper-styled assassination. Was this his fucking fault? Truly? Had he robbed everyone of knowing him because of a stupid fucking fight?

It hit him.

Berat was dead.

He wanted to tare his fucking heart out of his chest and be done. He wouldn't, but he wanted to. Even as the room closed in on him, breath was stolen from his lungs once again at the onslaught of memories. He'd never get to make new ones because drugs had stolen his life, had embedded itself so deep into who he was, it'd warped his sense of self. Berat had so much to fucking offer and give.

But addiction never lets its victims go easily.

Or at all.

"I did this, this is my fault." Kerem sobbed. "This...this is my fault."

[nadiazahedah]

this is how it ends

LOCATION: Nadia's home WITH: @antoniojimenez MENTIONED: @roman-han

It had been months since Tony’s birthday, but they still hadn’t talked about the massive elephant in the room. After Nadia had kissed him, things progressed to a point she never believed she would have let them had you spoken to her even a few weeks beforehand, and yet... it felt like what she had always wanted from him: to feel desired, to feel wanted, to feel loved.

And then... nothing. Things went back to what they had been before, seeing each other when they transferred the kids to and from one another.

To say she was confused would be an understatement, but she had done so many years of chasing after him and practically begging him for the bare minimum that she’d determined a long time ago she wouldn’t do that again. If he wanted anything more to develop, he would have to do the work, and if not... then she could finally move on, knowing once and for all she’d made the right decision to prioritize herself and the kids.

When she received a text from him at an odd hour of the night, though, she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest.

“You up? We need to talk.”

Was this it?

She hadn’t been able to sleep anyway, and the kids had gone to bed hours beforehand, so she made her way downstairs and made herself a cup of tea while she waited. Her hands wrapped around a mug of the aromatic tea when she heard the light knocking on the front door. She unlocked the door and opened it, seeing Tony on the other side, looking a little worse for wear. She opened it further and let him in without a greeting, leading him through to the kitchen.

“Is everything okay?” she finally asked, voice soft. She watched him, trying and failing to read his body language to figure out what to expect.

“No, it isn’t,” Antonio answered with a sigh once he entered the kitchen. Drawing in a deep breath, or as deep as he possibly could with the weight of the truth resting squarely on his chest, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. It made him feel sick, really, having to come clean about the sort of double life he’d been leading. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you about… who I am, what sort of stuff I’m involved in… a lot,” he started, falling quiet just to let that marinate for a moment. More than anything, he wished he was here under better circumstances– perhaps circumstances that would allow them to talk about what happened on his birthday and what it could possibly mean moving forward. But…in the last few days, Tony had come to realize there was no ‘forward.’ Not for him, not in this town…and so inevitably, not for them either. 

Nadia could feel her walls building back up the more he spoke. It had taken years for her to finally open herself back up to him in any meaningful way, and there was no doubt in her mind that whatever he was about to say was going to destroy every ounce of goodwill he’d accumulated with her since their divorce. She didn’t speak, though, and allowed him the space to say what he’d come here to say.

“There’s a reason I’m ahead on child support now, and it isn’t from working at the restaurant,” Antonio continued, swallowing thickly. He’d dreaded the mere idea of this moment ever since he’d signed on with Los Santos, and now he was stood here wondering if it would have ever gotten to this point if things hadn’t imploded the way they had. Would he have just carried on, lying to Nadia forever? The coward in him whispered yes, he would have. 

Eyeing her for a moment, he couldn’t help but wonder what this would lead to. She worked for the law, he made his money by breaking it. Would she do her duty, or let him walk? So many questions passed through his mind at a dizzying pace, but he couldn’t linger on them for long. He needed to speak his truth and accept whatever came from it. 

“I’ve been flying again.” He nodded, having seen that as such a good thing for him at the time. It had put him back in the skies– the one place Antonio truly felt at home and at ease. But now…it might as well have been a curse. Clearing his throat, he looked down at the counter, unable to meet Nadia’s gaze as he continued, “For Los Santos… the drug cartel.” 

Nadia froze. She had thought when their marriage had fallen apart and she’d had to leave the career she loved behind that she would never have to experience that kind of pain again – one could only hit rock bottom once, at least in her mind – but she had been so wrong. A small part of her wondered if maybe she had fallen asleep while waiting for him and this was nothing more than a twisted dream, but no, this was real and the look on Antonio’s face said as much.

Growing up in Tonopah Valley, it was hard not to know of Los Santos. They were the boogeymen parents warned their kids about, the ones who had supposedly made the streets unsafe and brought the crime to the area, though Nadia didn’t believe they were the only ones responsible for it, especially with the Sons of Silence across town. Then, being in the department, it was hard not to hear the other officers discussing the newest pick-up of a dealer in Webster Village or see an unfamiliar young woman finding herself in the ER, having her stomach pumped from accidentally ODing on drugs she’d been carrying on her person. What she hadn’t known, though, was how close to home they had gotten – her home.

Not only had she let Antonio back into their lives, but she’d let him back into her bed, and she felt so, so stupid in that moment for ever believing he could change. He had been with their children alone on so many occasions that her mind started to race, imagining them in all kinds of scenarios where they were somewhere they shouldn’t have been or just simply unsafe because of the decisions their father had made and the company he kept.

“What did you just say?” she spoke, her voice steady though she had to clench her fists to keep them from shaking. “You got yourself clean only to fall in bed with a drug cartel?” It took her another few moments of quiet fury to figure out what she wanted to say. It’s not like any of it would make a difference, in the end. “I trusted you, Tony. After everything you’ve put us through. And now this?”

Antonio watched Nadia's expression shift from one of curiosity to genuine shock, and then, to what he could only assume was anger. He didn’t fault her for it. In fact, he knew it was justified, as were his reasons for doing everything he’d done– in his mind, anyway. But when it came to convincing her of that, Tony didn’t imagine that he could. Given her line of work and everything she saw, a lot of it because of Los Santos, it was already clear to him that there wouldn’t be a path forward. And now the ball would be in her court, to see just how far this would go. 

Palming at the back of his neck, he shook his head, a strained sigh leaking past his lips, “I needed money, Nadia,” he pressed, though he didn’t expect that excuse to be satisfactory, even if it was the truth. He’d been behind on child support, behind on rent, and the cartel had given him wings to get ahead of all that, and in his view, to get an opening to be around his children again. “It was a means to an end. I’m sorry.” It felt like a cheap excuse but it was the truth, regardless of how it looked. He’d done what he’d felt he needed to do in order to see his children again and if that made him a monster, then Tony was willing to accept that. 

“If you needed money, then you should have gotten a legitimate job, even if you hated it!” she hissed, though the desire to raise her voice, to shout at him for endangering them all for another quick fix, rose every passing moment. “Why do you think I stopped teaching? It wasn’t because I had a desire to be an officer but because they paid more, and I needed to provide for the family you left behind.”

“Look, it doesn’t affect any of the progress I’ve made, alright? I got my life together, Nadia. I don’t expect you to approve of the way I did it, but I’m clean, all my debts are paid. I did what I needed to do.” And he’d stand by it at the end of the day, because if even only for a little while, it had allowed him to get his life back. It had allowed him to be there for his kids, both financially, and physically– and that was more than he’d ever been able to say before.

Nadia took in a deep, shaky breath, turning away from him and raking her fingers through her hair. She forced her eyes closed, begged the angry tears she could already feel rising to hold off, to wait until he wasn’t there so he couldn’t see how much he still affected her. Her desire to bring their family back together, to finally feel the love that he’d never truly shown her during their marriage, had won out in the end. She had let him return to her life – to their kids’ lives – under the basis of a lie and she’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

“I was never going to let any of it bleed over onto you, or the kids,” he continued, having made that perfectly clear to those around him from the moment he’d agreed to sign on. It was his one condition, and though they’d never been able to outright guarantee him that, they’d still assured him that they’d try to prevent it. “But it’s over now. Los Santos is collapsing and in order to keep that from affecting you, I need to disappear– at least for now.” Tony knew he could’ve gone on and on, explaining everything to her brick by brick, but he didn’t have time, and so he tried to get straight to the point. “I don’t have much time, but I needed you to hear it from me. It’s up to you what you do with it,” whether or not she chose to call it in, that was, or let him walk. He wouldn’t fault her if she couldn’t stomach doing the latter. She worked for the law, and he’d violated it. And if she decided that she couldn’t let him go freely, he wouldn’t resist. “I’ll respect whatever decision you make.”

She didn’t know what she could say to make him realize there had been so many other options he could’ve taken, so many safer alternatives. He fully believed what he’d done had been for the best, and she couldn’t disagree more. She was a fool to believe they could have ever reconciled when they were such fundamentally different people.

She should call it in. She knew that, especially with the conversation she’d had with the leader of the ATF accusing the officers in the department of being complicit in proliferating the gang violence. How would she be able to explain that to Amelia and Aaron, though? They loved their father and were too young; they wouldn’t understand why their mother was the one to have him thrown in prison for who knew how long. And, in spite of all the lies, deceit, and betrayal, Nadia still loved him. She’d still let him in because she desperately wanted to feel loved; she had no one to blame but herself.

He was her weakness.

“Go.” Finally, she broke the silence, voice barely above a whisper. She wrapped her arms around herself in a subconscious need for comfort as she turned towards him. “I won’t call you in, but I don’t want you anywhere near us again. I hope it was worth it to you.”

[gvldntrbl]

River Hartwell + (Introducing) Yara Hartwell

Location: Private Royal Family Beach in Southland

Sometimes, River thinks that her mind plays tricks on her. Like now. When, the faerie sees what looks like a glimmer, stark and waving, against the picturesque private beach of Southland's royal family. Akin to a long streak of metal glinting from the tops of the shore and kissing the lower edge of the powder blue skies above. As if an illegal sliver of a portal appeared. Dark brown eyes squinted and the tips of River's fingers tingled, the air between them almost cackling as she even wiggled her digits lightly, as if to silently call upon her electrokinesis ability in case her assigned guards were too slow in the Princess' defense. Since the unveiling of the immortalem, River's bodyguards had increased. Then, out of the gleam, came the most familiar face. "...Mama?"

More than fifty years had passed since Yara Hartwell, born to house Oyeyemi of proud Southland faeries, stood on the shores of her ancestors. ...On the very sands that the stunned Princess before her learned to walk. With the encouragement and help of her older cousin, Southland's own future Queen. Before Yara blinked, several guards appeared, filling the gap protectively between the two. It was then, at the sight, that River finally found her voice. "Wait!" She called out, heart in her throat but already on her feet. "Don't-" The electrical currents between River's fingertips crackled and grew. The words dying on her tongue, she knew that should she had to choose, Southland would need new guards before any of them touched what appeared to be her long, lost and assumed to be dead mother. If this were a dream, or a ruse, River thought to herself, then she wanted to see it run its course. Even if it were a lie, a moment with her mama, fiction or not, was what she truly wanted since elevating to Princess by her uncle, King Raymond's, decree. "Don't touch her," The phrase escaped River as her feet propelled her forward.

"Who are you?" She asked, no longer speaking English at all. But instead a language that Yara taught her. Yoruba. River wasn't certain if she imagined it but she thought that she saw an expression of quiet fondness cross the woman's face. It certainly upturned a corner of her mouth. "Of course," Yara let out. Still, as if she expected it, she replied back in Yoruba. Dark eyes washing over River unable to leave the faerie's face. "Smart girl." She complimented before continuing. "And I'm the one who taught you this. It's nice to see your accent's improved. You speak it well." River didn't answer but stubbornly, quietly, waited on her to actually answer the question she'd asked. "I'm Yara Hartwell of house Oyeyemi. Proud daughter of salt and sands and mother to-" The woman paused, expression on her face flickered, as if it hurt to finish the familiar recitation.

Decades prior, back when River was heir to one of Southland's duchys, her mother would've said '...and mother to three.' But that was before her husband, Royce, and their son, Rhys, attempted a coup for the realm and River was instrumental in thwarting them, and one aimed to end Yara's life. As well as River's. After most believed, save River, that Yara's ashes joined the pile of many who died during that attempt. Including Rhys and Royce. Thus, how can a suspected Yara say she was a mother to three when one of her children died decades ago. How would any mother, pretend or real, proceed in that statement. In an effort to give the woman an out, River ignored the curious looks of the guards between them and spoke again. "Who am I?" If willpower was transferable through gaze, River endeavored it so as she met the woman's eyes. River's inquiring and the meaning of her question were simple but would be effective, if the woman was not whom she claimed. While she wasn't ignorant to spirits inhabiting others' bodies and the possibility that this wasn't her mother, not at all, River prayed fiercely within her heart that somehow, finally, that some powerful deity gave her a fucking break. "Butterfly," She began, moments before sharing several memories that River recalled. Even one that she did not but Rowan reminded her of, due to their slight age difference.

River didn't recall moving the last guard between them out of the way. But she did recall the familiarity of the woman's weight as her arms wrapped around her. More importantly, aside from the sound of her voice which was the exact same as she remembered it, River did recognized her smell. Yara felt, sounded, and smelt the same as she the day she disappeared. For the first time, in a long time, the Princess wept. Openly. In the arms of a perceived ghost or the assumed reanimated body of the mother she'd lost. Such truth wasn't exactly confirmed but the rumor spread all the same. Yara Hartwell had seemingly returned from the grave.

[bcdblccd]

The Fox and The Raven

A week ago President Cassia Snow’s face had appeared on every screen in Panem, announcing that she was ‘hard at work making change’. Change that didn’t involve the ending of the Games but did come with a reduction in the number of Tributes. One per District. Raven had spent the week mulling over the President’s message. What had she been looking at off camera? What changes had been made? She was pulled back from her thoughts at the knock on the bathroom door. “Raven? Are you alright? You’ve been in there for over an hour.” Sitting up in the wash tub it was only then that Raven realized her bath water had gone cold long ago. “Y-Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” She waited for the footsteps to fade away before standing and grabbing her towel.

The fabric of the dress her mother had laid out for Raven was stiff and crisp as Raven made final adjustments to get it to lay right. She never understood why her mother did this, saved up her spare change all year so that she could buy fabric to make Raven a new dress each year for the Reaping. There were much better uses of her mother’s money but whenever Raven would bring the topic up her mother would just hush her. Just two more Reapings after today. Raven sighed and reached for a brush to rake through her still damp hair. 

Extending her finger out the Peacekeeper raised the device and pricked Raven’s finger tip and then pressed the finger down to the paper beside Raven’s name. Scanning the blood and code the device beeped and the women waved Raven on. Raven moved to join the crowd, which this year was not separated by boys and girls or by age. As she waited for the Escort to speak and the film to play Raven did what she did best, observe.

The film had concluded and beside the mic stand center on the stage stood the table with one massive fishbowl of names. A silence had fallen on the crowd. “And may the odds be ever in your favor.” Concluded the escort before their hand dipped into the bowl, pushing deep into the cards and then retreating. White paper between fingers, the escort removed the tape and opened it. Reading the name they smiled before leaning to the mic “Fox Evergreen! Congratulations Fox!” They exclaimed before beginning to clap wildly. The crowd ahead began to shift and split until a lone girl stood. If that was Fox then they lived up to their name as they were a petite and slender thing that Raven was amazed was old enough to even be Reaped. Raven looked at the terrified girl and then around. Fox stood no chance and Raven wasn’t going to watch that play out. “I volunteer!” She shouted, raising her hand. “Wow! A volunteer! This Games has been full of all kinds of surprises and it’s just Reaping Day!” The little girl was crying as she ran past a Peacekeeper to Raven. “Thank you! Thank you for saving my life. Please win.” The Peacekeepers pulled her off before she could say anything else. A Peacekeeper nudged Raven forward “I’m going!”

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 31- Ghost face!Miguel x Shy!Reader

*Requested by the many fans of tumblr. Happy Halloween!*

        Everyone had warned you about moving to Nueva York. The amount of dangerous people in that city were overwhelming. You were going to be eaten alive as your friends and family warned. You thought of yourself better and wanted to prove to them that you could survive. The shy and quiet you, who barely had to courage to say no. It was something you always struggled with, but you hoped that this new job would help you with it.

        You were hired at Alchemax as a lab assistant. You tried to fit in, but everyone was so self centered that you ended up being a loner. Everyone except one person. Miguel O'Hara. He had extended the hand of friendship to you, wanting to make you feel more comfortable around the place. You instantly fell for him. He was so kind to you and understanding. You had just wished that everyone was like him. You had wished you had the courage to ask him out.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked as he tried to grab your attention. You flinched out of your daydream,

"Y-Yeah, sorry. I've been...tired lately."

"I've noticed that you've been taking on other people's work. You need to learn to say no," Miguel told you before typing away on his computer. You could only nod,

"I...know...I've also had trouble sleeping...N-News of that...Ghostface going around killing people has me spooked." Miguel glanced you way, handing you a bottle of water, "T-Thanks."

"You'll be okay, tomorrow's Halloween, that's the last day he goes out. Just stay home, okay?" You let out a small whimper, hesitating. "You are staying home, right?" Miguel asked, stopping his work. Tears almost fell from your eyes,

"I-I got...I was told to join some of the others...a-at a small...work...party," Miguel saw you shaking, "I-I...I couldn't say no..."

"Sí, ¿qué voy a hacer contigo? Mi pobre muñeca inocente. (Aye, what am I to do with you? My poor innocent doll.)" Miguel whispered, knowing that you knew nothing of Spanish. He took you hand, calming you down, "Don't worry, you'll be okay."

        You looked into Miguel's eyes, smiling softly as you calmed down. After wiping your tears away, you thanked him quietly before hurrying off to go back to work. Miguel watched you scurry off. He growled lowly as he walked to his trash. That invitation was in there somewhere. Your coworkers didn't care about you to invite you to some Halloween party. They had other plans, and now Miguel did too. Finding the paper, Miguel's eyes shined brighter than normal.

"Tendré que matar a todos y hacerme el héroe, sólo para ti, mi preciosa querida. (I'll just have to kill everyone and play the hero, just for you my precious darling)"

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

        You stood in the corner of the small party, watching all of your coworkers enjoying themselves. You glanced down at your costume, wondering if it was too weird. Everyone else was dressed up in slutty and revealing outfits and here you were, with the costume you thought looked the cutest. You sighed sadly, wondering why you were even here. No one was talking to you. You were just there. Another sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the upstairs bathroom.

        As you washed up, you heard faint screaming. You gasped and shut the light off, your heart beating faster. Loud thumps echoed from the staircase, causing you to whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the loud thumping stopped right in front of the bathroom door. You hurried into the tub, holding yourself as you shook. This was not how you wanted to die. You cried as the door slammed open,

"BOO!"

"KYAAA!" You screamed, covering your ears. You heard loud laughter and raised your head to your coworkers,

"Ah man! Did you get that on video!?" One of them yelled.

        You stormed out of the bathroom, sobbing past everyone as they laughed at you. You made your way to the backyard since the front entrance was blocked off. You sat on the steps, crying your eyes out. They only invited you to make fun of you since you were so scared of Ghostface. You were just a quiet coworker, what did you do to deserve this? Upon hearing another scream, you whimpered in response. Were they trying to scare you again?

"I'll just stay here for a bit. They have to unblock the door soon," You whispered.

----------

        Miguel had watched the whole thing. His anger had reached a new boiling point. Fixing his mask, Miguel's grip on his knife tighten as he made his way inside. He was the one who blocked the door. Standing in the corner, Miguel watched you ran outside crying. Perfect. He was going to start with the stragglers downstairs. It was a big house and not too many people. The job needed to get new employees anyway. These guys were just dead weight.

        Miguel approached each person a little louder than he wanted. He was so fueled with anger that he couldn't focus. He just wanted everyone to pay for what they did. After his first kill, Miguel inhaled deeply. The smell of metallic blood filling his nostrils. He was not going to get now. He had taken out his anger during this month. It was the only time he could. Slowly making his way over to his next victim, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he thought of you.

        You were going to be his perfect little wife. Miguel was going to make sure you stay in the dark about his secret. He just wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you protected and loved. When you first arrived at Alchemax, Miguel thought he saw an angel. A shy little angel who entered his life just for him. Miguel had hunted every single asshole who dared tried to flirt with you, or even scared you. Miguel was going to be your dark protector.

"AHHHHHH!" 

        There it was. The first scream of the night and not from a scare, but because of the dead bodies that laid under Miguel. Smiling through the mask, Miguel watched the girl run to warn the others. Ah yes, that was the start. Miguel inhaled deeply, getting enjoyment from true horror. He was going to enjoy his last few kills of the night. It was going to be another year until Miguel could kill again.

----------

        After calming down, you decided to leave. You rubbed your eyes once more before entering the house. It was quiet aside from the sound of thumping from upstairs. They were probably enjoying themselves. Honestly, you were mad at your cruel coworkers. You stopped at the front door, seeing that it was still blocked. Why were they doing this to you? The couch was far too heavy for you to move on your own. Looking for another way out, you gasped as you stepped in something.

"My shoe," You whimpered, looking at the red puddle.

        Following the puddle, you gasped sharply as you saw one of you coworkers dead. Your heart started to race again as screams came from upstairs. You hurried to the kitchen, wondering if there was a door there and froze as another dead body laid before you. This was bad. Ghostface was here and he was killing everyone. Tears began to roll down your cheeks again as you hurried to find somewhere to escape. Maybe there was a gate in the backyard?

"Please! Don't kill me!" One of your coworkers screamed as another ran down the stairs,

"(Y/N)?! You're still here?!" He yelled and gasped as Ghostface started to walk down the stairs, "Fuck it, I ain't dying here!"

        You yelped as your coworker grabbed you harshly and threw you in front of the staircase. You eyes widen as you nearly froze in fear as Ghostface stood directly before you. You couldn't move. His knife was stained with blood. You shook and closed your eyes, crying as you waited for the worst.

"No! Stay back!"

        You shuddered a gasp as you heard Ghostface leave to your coworker first. Quickly, you found a closet and hid in there until it was safe. You were frighten and scared. Covering your ears, you tried to stay quiet as you waited. Waited for Ghostface to leave.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" That voice. You knew it all too well.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" You cried out.

----------

        Miguel whispered some cusses towards your coworkers as he stabbed him. Now that everyone was dead, it was time for you. He knew that you ran to the living room, but where were you hiding? He stopped to clean his knife in the kitchen sink, washing all the blood off. Once that was done, he attached the knife to his thigh strap under his pants. He then took his mask off, putting it inside one of his cloak pockets that was big enough.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" He called out, wanting to bring you out of hiding.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" Those cries weren't meant for you.

"It's okay, I'm here now. I saw Ghostface head upstairs, quickly close your eyes and come out. I'll get you out of here."

        You were such a good girl for him. You crawled out of the closet with your eyes closed, your breathing still heavy. Miguel just smiled towards your shaken form, knowing that you were going to be in his arms in a second. With ease, he picked you up, holding you close. He could feel your heart beat. You were sobbing and holding onto him for dear life. You had no reason to cry now. Miguel was going to take care of you.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," Miguel whispered as he stroked your head. You just cried into his shoulder,

"M-Miguel, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You have nothing to apologize for. I'll take good care of you,"

"T-They're all dead. I-I thought...I was next...Miguel...I love you. I love you. I'm sorry, I'm a scaredy cat and shy and nervous...I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner," You kept babbling, crying your heart out since you thought you were going to die.

"Dios mío, no me esperaba esto. Voy a follarte bien esta noche para que te olvides de todo esto. (My god, I wasn't expecting this. I'm going to fuck you go good tonight that you're going to forget all about this.)" He groaned lowly.

"M-Miguel?"

"It's okay, (Y/n), I love you too. I'll take good care of you."

-----------

        You sniffled as you stepped out of Miguel's shower, rubbing your arms as you wore some of his spare clothes. Miguel was kind enough to take you to his home, wanting to comfort you for the night. You were nervous as you stepped into his living room. It was quiet. Miguel was taking a shower in his other bathroom. Who would have thought that Miguel was rich? You explored his place, still surprised by the turn of events.

        You ended up in the kitchen, noticing a knife in the sink. It looked so much like the knife Ghostface had. Shaking the thought out of your head, you made your way back to the living room. You wanted to forget about what happened tonight. You tried to at least. You knew you were going to have trouble sleeping again. Tomorrow was going to be harsher because everyone was going to be asking about the others. Asking why you were the only one left alive.

"W-What if they think I killed them?" You stuttered at the thought. Miguel approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist,

"Then they would be fools," He kissed the back of your neck.

        You shuddered at the affection Miguel gave you. Turning around, you pulled him into a tight hug. Miguel chuckled as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. Your cheeks burned up as he placed you on his bed. Miguel stroked your cheek, calming you down again. His smile instantly making you fold for him.

"Do you trust me?" Miguel asked you as he slowly climbed over you. You just nodded, "Good, there's something you need to know,"

        You whimpered as Miguel kissed your neck. His hands stroked your sides under the shirt you wore. He let out a low groan since you looked so good in his clothes. You let out a breathless moan as he cupped you breasts. Miguel was going to wait until you were completely in his grasp before telling you. After all, you couldn't say no. You were going to be his good girl forever.

"M-Miguel?" You whined softly as he took your shirt off, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples. 

"You're not going back to work," Miguel whispered as he started to grind his bulge against your cunt, "You're going to stay here. Make it look like you died with the others."

"W-What?!" You asked, but flung your head back as Miguel sucked on your breasts.

        You moaned softly as Miguel spread you legs, allowing him to rut into you rougher. You felt yourself getting wetter. The boxers he let you wear were too thin and easy for him to grind against. You tried to ask him what he meant, but you were being overwhelmed with pleasure. Miguel's hands were now resting against the boxers, rubbing your clit against the fabric. You body leaned into his touch, desperate for more. His tongue swirled around your nipple, making his way back up to your neck.

"You're going to stay here, baby." He whispered again, his fingers dipping under the boxers and circling your clit, "My beautiful angel. I can't let anyone have you. I can't let anyone harm you. You were always mine."

"Mhm~ M-Miguel~"

"(Y/N), don't be afraid of me. I will never harm you." Miguel watched as you bit you lower lip, moving your hips with his hand, "Así es. Déjame convertirte en la esposa perfecta. Déjame manchar tu hermosa inocencia. (That's right. Let me fuck you into the perfect wife. Let me taint your beautiful innocence." He groaned lowly.

        You whimpered a moan as you felt a knot tighten inside you. Miguel moved his fingers faster against your clit, causing that knot to tighten. You tried to rub your legs together, but Miguel kept them spread. He sucked against your neck, groaning as you cam from just him playing with your clit. His fingers dipped lower, two digits entering your tight, soaked cunt. You moaned again, your cunt squeezing his fingers as he pumped inside you.

"Ah, my sweet innocent little angel. Watching you break because of me is so delicious." Miguel groaned as you squirmed and moved your hips to his touch, "You're going to stay here. I'll make sure no one will ever hurt you again, understood?"

"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out as his fingers feverishly fucked your tight gummy walls.

        You whined as Miguel raised your legs over his shoulders. Your pussy clenched his fingers as he started to curl against your sweet spot. You flung your head back as he started to wiggle his fingers inside you. His thumb rubbed against your clit again, bringing you over to the edge. Miguel wasn't making any sense, but his words were making you wetter. Honestly, with how tonight went, you wouldn't mind being stuck in Miguel's home forever. He was your protector.

"M-MIG-" You screamed out as you reached another orgasm. Miguel pulled his fingers out, licking them,

"You even taste sweet," He hummed, holding his erection towards your twitching folds, "You have no idea the amount of men I had to get rid of to make sure you stayed innocent, just for me. Seré tu primero en todo... y tu último. (I will be your first for everything...and your last.)" He groaned.

        You whimpered as you felt Miguel's dick stretch you out painfully. His cock was so thick and long. Your pussy was convulsing around him, sucking him in while drool rolled down your lips. He was making you feel so full. You wanted to question him on what he meant by getting rid of people, but you started to get drunk off his cock. Another whimper escaped your lips as Miguel groaned, fitting his whole length inside you. You swore that he was pressing against your cervix, but you weren't sure. This was a first for you.

"Un ajuste perfecto. Fuiste hecho para mí, cariño. Voy a grabar la forma de mi polla en tu memoria. (A perfect fit. You were made for me, darling. I'm going to fuck the shape of my dick into your memory.)" He groaned, slowly pulling out of you, "Killing all those people made this worth it."

"H-Huh?"

        You moaned loudly as Miguel thrusted his dick back inside you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. You cried out as Miguel started to bully your cunt, causing you to turn into putty under him. You could barely feel your legs as the slapping sounds between you grew louder. His dick forming a perfect space inside your pussy. You trembled as you started to reach another orgasm, unable to take the pleasure that he was filling you with.

"Look at you, so fucked out on my cock. How does it feel to get fucked by Ghostface, baby? Does my dick feel that good?" Miguel moaned as you tighten around him, "Yes, it does, doesn't it. Why else would you be squeezing me this tight?"

"H-Hah~ Ah~ Y-You're....ah~ mhpm...G-Ghost...f-face?" You whimpered lowly. Miguel fasten his pace, enjoying the white ring that formed around his dick,

"Yes. I'm the scary Ghostface that killed those asshole coworkers of ours," He chuckled, stopping to fill you with his seed, "I told you that you'd be okay. I will never, ever hurt you. Only love you."

        You wanted to be scared. You truly did, but both your brain and your heart were only thinking about Miguel's dick pounding you still. His hot semen filling your womb as he kept fucking you dumb. You body twitched from overstimulation as Miguel started to rub your clit again. He leaned down to kiss you, biting you lower lip as you moaned for him. His grip tighten against your hips, rutting into you furiously. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were his.

"Awe? Tired already? I think I need to show you how many people I've killed for you. Here's the second victim." Miguel groaned as he cummed inside you again. 

"Mhm~" You muffled lowly, growing exhausted. Miguel chuckled as he pulled you to his lap,

"Tienes razón cariño. Vas a ser la esposa de Ghostface. Siempre puedo mostrarte mi amor en cualquier momento. (You're right darling. You're going to be Ghostface's wife. I can always show you my love anytime.)

----------

        When you woke up, Miguel was by your side with water, vitamins and breakfast. He had bathed you and put on a fresh pair of clothes. You recalled his confession from last night and grew slightly nervous. Miguel, the man you longed for, was the murderous Ghostface. He killed your coworkers and faked your death. You now belonged to Miguel. You wanted to be scared, but Miguel had proved to you that he was never going to hurt you.

        Maybe it was your blind faith or actually being fucked dumb, but you willingly agreed to stay with Miguel. You stayed in his place as his house wife, greeting him with love everyday. Miguel rewarded your love with his brutal sex, reminding you that you belonged to him. By next Halloween, Miguel returned to his Ghostface persona, needing to release some steam. You became his accomplish, making sure that he returned home safe and sound.

"How was my good girl tonight?" Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into your soaked pussy. You whined into the bedsheets,

"D-Distracted t-the...ah~ police...s-sending em...mhm~ opposite side of...of....ah~ t-town~!" You cried out. Miguel groaned happily, harshly shoving his dick deeper into you to fill,

"That's my perfect angel. Well done."

"T-Thank you!" You moaned against him, shaking from the pleasure. Miguel hummed happily as he kept thrusting inside you,

"I think you deserve a reward. Why don't we try making a little Ghostface jr?"

"Yes! Yes!"

        Your vision blurred as you moved in rhythm to Miguel's thrusts. Your mind started to fill with lust as you became tainted by Miguel. You were just as bad as him now, but you didn't care anymore. As long as Miguel was there to love you and protect you, you were okay. You moaned loudly as you cam against his dick, burying your head into the pillow again. You were happy with you life now. You were going to protect and live with Miguel forever.

Forever as Ghostface's wife.

[killykstudio]

Melancholia

Miguel O'Hara x Cheated on!Reader

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6;

Warnings: 18+, no minors, heavy smut, fingering , spanking , dom! Miguel, dirty talking, mention of mental illness, self loathing.

Summary: after taking care of you, Miguel decides that you deserve a punishment due to your behaviour.

Author's note: since there are a lot of Spanish sentences in this part I've put the translation near to them, so enjoy!

;

;

;

"uno" Spank!

"dos" Spank!

"T-tres" Spank!

"cua-a-tro" Spank!

"c-cHinCO" Spank!

"chinco"(it's "chinco" (five))

Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank!

"m-miguel!" You moaned.

"Empecemos... De nuevo" (let's try it again). His voice was suave, sultry and deep. You whimper.

"u-uno" Spank!

...

You forgot for how long he has been torturing your delicate buns. You were still wearing his short , but their legs were pulled up enough to show your skin.He made you count all the slaps he gave you in Spanish. After all you were the one to ask him to teach you the language.Every time you inevitably got the numbers pronunciation wrong ,he would start all over again. at every hit ,you rewarded him with a moan from your plumb lips, that he has bitten to the point of draining blood. His name slips from your mouth like a prayer, but with difficulty , since he has put two fingers in your mouth. You were already a mess , drooling all over the sheets and feeling your slit becoming more and more wet at every slap.

"c-cin-quen-t-ta"(fifty) Spank!

"Bien..." His finger leaves your mouth with pop. A string of saliva still connects them to your mouth. He leans back, takes off his shirt, takes both of your wrists and ties them together. Then he props your ass higher and takes off his shorts from you.

"tan mojada... Solo por esto, muñeca? (So wet... Only from this, babydoll?)

You whine at the cold air on your slit. He takes with his huge hands your peach cheeks, opening them further , a string of cum leaving your cunt.

"esto coño es solo por para mí ¿Tengo razón? (this cunt is only for me , am I right?)

"what are y-" Spank!

You gasp by the sudden sting. Your cunt clenching at nothing.

"solo español" (only Spanish) his severe voice sending shivers to your spine

"s-í" you cry out

"bueña muñeca... Mereces una recompensa" ( good "girl"... You deserve a prize)

Immediately your cunt was filled by two thick fingers.

"ah! Miguel!"

He starts pounding into you with such a fierce speed, touching all your weak spots. Your mind starts going dumb. He doesn't seem to slow down. You present him with your cutest sounds.

"Miguel!....Fuck!" Spank!

Meanwhile destroying your body with waves of pleasure he takes his shorts stained by your juice and puts them in your mouth to ease your moans.

You are drooling all over the sheets. You nails digging so hard in your palm. You can feel it , your climax approaching. It feels divin-

"que maravilla"(wonderful).your eyes widen, your cunt clenching at nothing and your body squirming in search for him. He just pulled out his finger from you , leaving you desperate for your release.

He takes of his shorts from your mouth.

"Repite después de mí" ( repeat after me)

"Mi amor" (my love)

"M-Miguel pleas- Spank!

"Se honesta, ¿lo haces a propósito? Te gusta ser azotada por mí" ( be honest, you do it on purpose? You like being spanked by me)

"repite,mi amor" ( repeat, love)

"Mmi a-amor"

"Buena" (good girl)

He flips you over your back and leans down over your slit , just his breath almost making you cum.

"te amo" ( I love you) he rolls his tongue on your clit. The feeling makes your eye roll in your back

Slap!

You gasp in pleasure and arc your back . This time he gave you a less hard slap on your slit.

"te- te amo"

He does a long lick from your hole to your pulsing clit, then he sucks on it and release it with a pop ,only to continue doing cats licks on it.

"quiero que estemos juntos..."(I want us to stay together)As he saying it you feel his breath and his tongue playing on your nerves

"q-quieRo q-u-e estEmos jUntos" at this point you are a babbling mess.

"para siempre" (for ever)

"pa-pa-para siiemp-Ah!

Three fingers slip inside your folds, the sudden stretch making you see the stars.

"deja ese pendejo y quedate conmigo te tratare como te mereces..." (Leave that bastard and stay with me ,so I can treat you the way you deserve)

His speed increases more and more with you becoming more and more near your release

"Miguel! I'm cu- "Slap!

"FUCK!" slap!

Your vision is becoming more blurred, your nerves are on fire , your body it's starting to shake-

"Acaba para mi , muñeca" (cum for me , babydoll)

you raise your head and you meet his gaze...

"Fuck!" You cum just by his expression: full of lust , red eyes , his mouth and chin dirty by your juices, his curls in disorder. Fuck he looked so pussy drunk.

He carries you through your release, sucking your sensible bud and getting his finger out to plant his hand on your bladder. This makes your flames turn into an explosion of white pleasure. You scream his name again again

"Miguel! Miguel! Migue-

"¿Sí?"

Morning light hits your eyes , making you find cover under the sheets.

As your sleepiness was leaving your body and your brain started igniting your nerves back, you realised.

It was just a wet dream!?

"everything okay y/n?" You hear Miguel's voice from another room.

What the fuck? Why did I dream something like that... I mean...no,please... I can't be this stupid... Did I fall in love with him?! Just from an act of mercy?!Oh, God! I'm completely crazy! completely gone ! Also a maniac. He would think I'm repulsive if he knew. Poor Miguel being stuck with someone like me, he would be ashamed to have someone like me to like him. I feel so sorry for him, I mean...Wait...when did I fall asleep?... everything he said meanwhile he brought me to his bed...Him teach me how to say muNeCa...was... Me dreaming or...

Fuck! You feel... sticky down there... so you bring two fingers on your covered slit and touch it to check

You are soaking wet

"¿Muñeca?"

;

;

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Author's notes: Yikes!! It was so difficult to write smut , but here we are! I think it was time for something spicy after all the drama even though it's just a dream. Anyway part 5 has been released, so go catch it! And thank you for reading!

[veinsfullofstars]

⭐ Memories of friendship ⭐

(ID: Kirby series fanart, Childhood Friends AU, featuring young Dedede, Meta, Para Dee, and Bow Dee hanging out and interacting in various cute and silly scenarios. More detailed descriptions and bonus headcanons under the cut. END ID.)

Just a buncha li’l guys. The littlest of lads. I could literally fill pages with all the wholesome slice-of-life nonsense I have in mind for these kids (and maybe the smallest touch of angst, too, but that’s for later). Also might’ve made DDD’s overalls a little brighter to match his coat in the future. Also made refs for Para and Bow.

UPDATE 03/11/24: Added a few misc. details.

Sketches started btw 11/23 and 12/23, render started 12/13/23, finished 01/07/24. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 01/08/23.

—

Image descriptions

Top-left: Meta carrying DDD by his hands and lifting him (with great difficultly) into the air (probably only a few inches off the ground), the latter laughing happily and kicking his feet, the former grimacing with effort and flapping his little wing as hard as he can.

(HC: Even at a young age, Meta is built more for dexterity than strength, and DDD isn’t exactly as light as the rest of his buddies - not that it stops either of them from doing something dumb in the name of a dare.)

Top-middle: Meta and Para holding open a large book between them (the image of Planet Popstar on the cover), reading and discussing its contents (as indicated by a wall of blue and green “Blah”s behind them), while Bow (slumped on Meta’s side) and Dedede (reclining back on Para’s side) are both fast asleep from boredom.

(HC: Needless to say, Meta and Para are huge nerds, often seen checking out half a dozen books at at time from the local library and finishing them before the week is out. Bow and DDD try to be interested, but they just don’t have the attention spans for huge walls of tech jargon and dusty old history.)

Top-right: Para floating with his parasol (patterned the same green-and-brown plaid as his bowtie), sweating and kicking his feet wildly, looking down in terror; Meta hovers nearby on his wings, looking on in surprise at his panicking friend.

(HC: Despite his proficiency, Para rarely uses his parasol for anything besides keeping himself dry in the rain. He is deathly afraid of heights and has gotten himself stuck in trees more than once thanks to his buddies’ daredevil antics.)

Middle-right: Bow - angered by something off-screen - furiously kicking and flailing about, her face red with rage, as DDD casually holds her up off the ground by the top of her head, looking annoyed and bored.

(HC: It doesn’t take a lot to set Bow off. Despite her tiny size, she can be an absolute terror when she’s upset about something, and the boys know this well. DDD is often the one to hold her back when she gets too rowdy, a role he’s not particularly thrilled to have. Stars help anyone in her line of sight if no one’s around to calm her down.)

Middle: Meta and DDD sitting side-by-side, the former in a rare excitable mood as he fidgets and chatters on about all kinds of things (indicated by several word bubbles with images inside, including ice cream, swords, bats, planets, stars, rockets, and Galacta Knight’s mask); DDD listens with surprising patience, a fond (if somewhat exasperated) smile on his face.

(HC: Meta is usually a very quiet kid, his silence filled by DDD being his typical boisterous self. Sometimes, though, when they’re just hanging out by themselves, Meta will find an opening - usually provided by DDD - and go off on tangents as random and hyper-focused as his more talkative buds. Not many people get to see him this animated or comfortable, and DDD - who’s seen them the most - cherishes these moments, even if it’s embarrassing to admit.)

Bottom-left: DDD dashing to our left, a determined grin on his face, as his friends ride Piggyback on his back - first Meta, wings out and free arm waving in excitement, then Para, clinging desperately to Meta with a look of panic on his face, and finally Bow, hanging off of Para and laughing merrily.

• (HC: DDD is always dragging his friends into one crazy scheme or another, usually at a full-tilt sprint and without much forethought beyond “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Meta is often swept up in the excitement, too curious and eager to learn to worry much about danger. Para is the embodiment of “I don’t know about this, guys…” but too lenient to really stop them. Bow will literally follow the boys off of a cliff as long as there’s fun to be had.)

Bottom-right: Bow, DDD, and Meta sitting in the grass surrounded by butterflies (their bodies black and wings white with dark edges, save one in the back with yellow wings rimmed in orange and red). One lands on DDD’s beak, and he pokes at it curiously, staring cross-eyed. Bow trembles behind him, staring at the butterfly in watery-eyed terror over his shoulder. Meta tilts his head to look at her with an expression of bemused concern, a butterfly settled on his foot.

(HC: Bow will tell you she isn’t afraid of anything. In many cases, this is true. She will routinely stare down threats ten times her size and promise to beat them up on the spot before someone more rational pulls her out of harm’s way. But, if there is a bug anywhere in her immediate vicinity, she will absolutely run for the hills. DDD used to tease her about this, hiding bugs in his hands to scare her. He stopped as soon as she started panic-smacking him.)

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Crème Fraîche (Fresh Cream)

Part of my 500 Follower Celebration set in The Shape of Youniverse 

The Prompt: You and the system go on a baby-moon when expecting Baby #2 (your parents watch Nyla) and rent a house in the French countryside. As a present for Steven, you dress up in a milkmaid costume and greet him in it, your recently re-lactating breasts already staining the material when he finds you.

Requested by: a lovely nonnie!

Pairing: Steven x afab!reader, background Marc x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system 

Spice-o-meter: 🌶🌶🌶🌶, Tré Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 4k

CW/TW: heavy breast play and lactation kink, Steven has a bit of an oral fixation, roleplaying with a costume, some softdom!daddy kink, dirty talk, pregnant!sex, table!sex, fingering, food kink, a bit of creampie or just a lot of bodily fluids, a dash of dumbification and cockwarming, and mentions of anal sex, masturbation, plus a little self-consciousness on the reader’s part because she is muy preggo. Also mucho aftercare because it’s Steven our beloved

A/N: I’M BACK BITCHES!!! Thank you to everyone who so patiently waited for me to return to my fics, I hope it’s worth the wait! Also special shoutout to @johnny-simpfinger​ since she let me take this idea, tweak it and run with it! 

And yes, this is the second fic in a row I’ve titled in a different language but I’m trying be *classy* okay? It was “Crème Fraîche” or “Got Milk?” 🤪 Also there’s translations of a few bits of dialogue at the end of the fic. 

You couldn’t be mad at Marc for almost spoiling the surprise, after all you had barked at him to get you another towel inside. In his haste to get back to where you were beached on the side of the pool, he’d knocked over your suitcase and found the costume when he was trying to put everything away.

The two of you were on your “babymoon” in advance of Caleb’s arrival, spending a long weekend at a darling cottage you and your husband rented in Provence, France. Nyla was home in London, no doubt being doted upon (if not completely spoiled), by your parents who were in town to watch her. With your daughter, there had been no time for a babymoon since she’d been a surprise souvenir from your honeymoon. Not to mention another trip felt excessive when there was so much preparation to do in advance of Nyla’s arrival. 

Baby Number Two, now recently named Caleb after much consideration and debate between you and your husband, was different. He’d been planned for starters, and with a three-year-old at home, you and the boys were eager to have an adults-only breather before there was another bundle of joy to contend with. The cottage was quiet, secluded, and had a heated pool which meant you could swim even though there was a fall chill in the French air. 

The weather was what had gotten you in your current predicament. You were cold after getting out of the pool, and crabby given that you were entering the home stretch of the pregnancy and Caleb was a big baby. You may have snapped at your husband to fetch you another towel for warmth, leading to him discovering what you’d packed for Steven. 

“He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in that,” Marc said in no uncertain terms. 

“That’s kind of the point, hun.” Panic suddenly slid down your spine. “He can’t hear us, can he?” 

“No, I’m blocking him out,” Marc assured you. 

You explained that the getup was a “special treat” for Steven since your milk had come in once again last week. 

“Why don’t I ever get a special treat, eh?” Jake had pushed to the front to demand. 

You looked at him, wholly unphased. “You get plenty of treats.”

“Like what?”

“Anal,” you deadpanned. While Jake was rendered speechless (for once) you pressed, “Don’t spoil the surprise, bien Papi? Por favor? Para mi?” 

“Fine,” he grumbled and ceded control of the body back to Marc. 

“So if I send you out on an errand tomorrow, you’ll make sure he’s fronting when you get back?” you asked. 

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he promised you. 

You kissed Marc’s plush lips, taking a moment to admire his body in his swim trunks. Those broad hips and thick thighs never failed to leave you wanting. 

“Thank you baby,” you purred into his ear, drawing him into your arms. 

“Hmm, let’s get you inside, don’t want you to catch cold,” he decided, helping you up to waddle into the cottage. 

You couldn’t help but inquire, “You’re not jealous that Steven gets a special treat this week?” 

“Hmm? No,” Marc answered. “I had you all to myself for a year, and Steven’s become a lot more bearable to live with now that you rock his world on a regular basis.” 

You nearly fell over from laughing so hard at Marc’s blunt assessment. 

 ***

Pregnancy cravings provided the perfect cover for sending your husband out so you could get ready to surprise him. You gave Steven a specific brand of chocolate to retrieve in order to buy yourself as much time as possible. To be honest, it may not even have been sold in mainland Europe, but there was no doubt that you’d make the wild goose chase worth his while. 

“Darling!?” your husband called from the front entry way when he returned. “You alright? I had to go to three places but I found the chocolate! Picked up some stuff for dinner too and—“

Steven dropped the bag of groceries when he spotted you. Ignoring the sound of a jar shattering, you giggled and twirling one of your pigtail braids with your fingers. You twisted a stockinged knee and bit your lip, and trying to assume a very innocently-not-so-innocent pose for him. 

“Oh my days,” he groaned. “Can you have a heart attack from being turned on too quickly?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’m not really the person to ask. I’m just a simple milkmaid you see.”

“Oh I can definitely see that,” Steven responded. His eyes raked over your form ravenously. 

He started at your white thigh-high stockings (your feet were too swollen and your back hurt too much for heels), then past the little frilly miniskirt with its purely decorative apron, up to the laces of the corset-like bodice that, even though they were let out, still strained over your bump. The pièce de résistance was the white off the shoulder top under the bodice that was stretched to its elasticated limits by your breasts, and sported twin stains where your recently re-lactating nipples were. 

“Merci for the chocolate, but I was hoping you could help me with something else,” you gripped your tits and gave them a squeeze. “Could you milk me, Monsieur? 

“Fuck, babe,” Steven dropped the act momentarily and crossed to you. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, drawing him in for a filthy kiss. 

“You’ve never looked sexier,” he rasped when you broke apart for air. 

Your hand dropped to grope him through his pants. “You’ve never felt so hard, baby.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think being able to cut glass is hyperbole at the moment,” he conceded, his hands flying to their prize. He contracted them around your boobs and was rewarded with a fresh burst of milk. “You didn’t tell me you started lactating again.” 

“Wan-wanted it to be a surprise,” you confessed, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of Steven’s large palms groping your sensitive tits through the fabric of your costume, “Wanted to maaay-make it special.” 

“I’m surprised, and this is very special” Steven confirmed while he dipped his fingers between the costume’s top and your skin. “Can’t bloody wait to get to the bedroom, need you now.” 

“I’m all yours,” you told him, whimpering when he turned you around and walked you into the ledge of the cottage's dining table. 

Your husband gave you a boost, hoisting you atop of the aged wood so you could lean back on your palms. Once you were situated, he wasted no time tugging down the dampened fabric right away and immediately attaching his mouth to one of your pearly nipples. 

His deep, satisfied groan drowned out your high-pitched mewl when Steven’s lips clamped around your teat and pulled the liquid out from it. He drank from you like a man starved, the unrelenting pressure of his mouth prompting you to tilt your head back in an ecstasy that bordered on overstimulation. It had been years since you two had been able to do this and your husband’s greedily suckling made another wave of slick gush from between your thighs. 

For several minutes, the only sounds between the pair of you were Steven’s grunts and your moans. But when he switched tits, you finally found the ability to ask him, “Have you missed this, Daddy?” 

He rumbled around your spit-slicked flesh in agreement. You couldn't help but goad him further, “Do I still taste good?” 

“Better than ever,” Steven popped off your tit to assure you. He brought his lips to yours, trading an absolutely obscene kiss with you that allowed you to sample the nutty, sweet liquid your husband craved. 

“Know what I’m missing?” you questioned breathlessly. Steven’s brow creased at your words. “Your fat cock inside me.” 

Another groan resonated in Steven’s chest in response and his fingertips snuck under your skirt to feel you. “Bloody hell, you’re absolutely dripping for me, aren't you?”

You nodded, your breath hitching when he circled his thumb around your clit. 

“And no knickers? Naughty girl,” he chuckled darkly while slipping a finger inside of you. Your keen encouraged him to insert another digit into your pussy soon after. 

“Buh-but I just want to be good for you, Daddy,” you whined in an attempt to keep up the milkmaid act. 

Your statement reduced Steven to another deep groan. “Yeah? Gonna be good and let me put my prick in you while I suck on these titties?”

You nodded feverishly and your husband did just that. He released his straining member from the confines of his trousers, its tip flushed and leaking already, and lined it up with your soaked entrance. Ever the gentleman and nurturer, Steven took a beat to drape your legs over forearms to support you before he pushed his rock hard cock into your folds. 

Both of you let out respective cries of relief when Steven breached you, and after a moment to adjust, he absolutely went to town on your cunt. The way he fucked you was so un-Steven-like, he preferred slow and deep strokes as opposed to Jake, who was the king of a fast and rough pounding. Marc, meanwhile, liked to play with rhythm, riling you up by hammering into you at an athletic speed, bringing you to the brink of orgasm, then moving to languid rolls of his hips to edge you and prolong each of your pleasure. 

Blame it on the outfit and lactating breasts, but Steven felt that he couldn’t thrust fast or hard enough. The deliciously brutal pace slowed slightly when your husband buried his face between your heaving bosom once more, mouthing at your left nipple before resuming his suckling. 

“Fuck yeah, baby,” you sighed. 

When you had sex this dirty, when Steven worshipped your body like this, you could almost temporarily forget about all anxiety you had about leaving your daughter in London, her brother’s impending arrival, not to mention the stress of prepping for your maternity leave. The combination of Steven’s cock and mouth was so good that you could push those ever-present concerns to the back of your mind and merely focus on how goddamn good it felt to get fucked. Feeling desirable as a heavily pregnant woman was a difficult feat, but Steven, with his bottomless brown eyes, girthy dick, and insatiable mouth, was able to achieve it. 

He moved to your right tit, his mouth latching onto your leaking teat with no hesitation. His grip on your legs tightened at the new stream of milk that entered his mouth. You spurred him on with another strangled sound of pleasure while your pussy involuntary clenched around your husband’s rigid length pummeling your insides. 

Steven wrapped your left leg around his ample hip and began grinding himself into you. You cried out at the change of position and how it allowed him to penetrate you deeper. 

Even in the midst of the mind-melting dicking down you were currently receiving, an errant thought did dance through your brain about the poor people who would rent the cottage after you, eating at this table blissfully unaware that you used it to feed your husband “straight from the source”, so to say. 

“Fuck, darling,” Steven rasped. You kept your leg locked in place around his hip so he could move both his hands to your breasts and pluck at your weeping nipples. “D’you know how much I’ve missed these huge knockers? Couldn’t come back soon enough.” 

“Yeah?” you urged him, your features pinching with pleasure since the change in position had allowed you to get some much-needed friction on your clit. “Did you think about them a lot?” 

“All the bloody time,” he groaned. “Any time I wanked off, I pictured your tits, full and dripping just like this.” 

He punctuated the revelation by squeezing the boobs in question so they both squirted liquid into his mouth. 

“That’s so hot, honey,” you sighed, “Love that you love my big boobies.” 

Your husband changed his assault on your cunt to short, stilted thrusts. “Love you. Such a good mumma to our kids and still so nasty for us.”

“Can’t help it,” you confessed, “you’re so sexy, you turn me on even when you don’t mean to.” 

You didn't get to voice your next thought. It was cut off with a little shriek since Steven sprayed more milk out of you directly into his mouth. 

“Wanna drink from these everyday,” Steven babbled as the force of his hips increased, “need your milk all the time, need to be full of–ohhhh, fuck, love…I’m coming! ” 

He planted his face back into your chest while his release raced through him. Rope after rope of Steven’s cum shot deep inside of you. As much as you wanted to bury a hand in his thick hair to hold him while his bliss crested, you knew you’d likely fall and spoil the moment. 

Besides, it was wickedly thrilling, effectively being forced to accept Steven’s adoration exactly how he wanted to provide it. 

After what felt like a private eternity between the two of you, Steven craned his neck to gaze up at you with besotted and sated eyes. “That was…you alright, love?” 

Speech hadn’t returned to you yet so you nodded as he gingerly extracted his soft cock. 

“You haven’t come, yeah?” 

You shook your head no. 

“I have an idea…if you’ll let me?” 

How was it after all these years and nearly two kids later, you still got lost in your husband’s eyes? 

“What is it, baby?” you whispered. 

“Well, first, I’ll get you a towel and put away the food so it doesn’t spoil,” he began. “Then uh maybe, I could…well you could ride me - back to front, given Caleb,  so I play with your clit?”

“That sounds lovely, but honey, I’m considerably heavier than usual.” 

“I’ve noticed,” he responded wryly. “What, you don’t think I'm strong enough?”

“No, babe–”

“What’s the point of having Marc drag us to the gym and waking up sore if I can’t, you know, put it to good use?” he countered. “Besides, I see the way you look at us.” 

You blushed, which was quite the achievement since your breasts were hanging out of a skanky costume and cum was dripping out of your used pussy. “What’s the point of dealing with my husband’s weird workout schedule if I can’t enjoy the results?”

“Touché,” he grinned back and kissed you gently. “I’m not that old yet, darling.” 

You connected your lips once again, giggling into the kiss. When you two broke apart, it was Steven who was blushing. “I had another idea actually.”

“Hmm?” 

“I…umm…when you said that thing earlier–”

“What thing?” 

“When you asked me to milk you,” he clarified, suddenly extremely interested in the floor. “Was…was that just part of the bit? Or did you mean that?”

You couldn’t mask the look of surprise that instantly colored your face. 

“Forget it, it’s fine,” Steven backpedaled, “Really. I mean you…you did this whole special thing with the costume and I–”

“No, Steven, wait,” you stopped him and angled his chin so he was looking directly at you. “What did you have in mind?” 

The flush on your husband’s face deepened, his eyes rolled back, and then Jake replied, “He wants to - no sé - pump your milk into glass. Because he wants to watch yo–alright that’s enough thank you!” 

Steven had interrupted his alter. “Sorry,” he muttered afterwards, back in control of the body.  

“Don’t be,” you soothed him, “um, we could try it? I think my tits need a bit of a refractory period, but maybe we do it once you’ve got me seated on top of you?” 

“Really?” Your husband's face brightened. When you confirmed it with another nod, he straightened and buzzed with excitement. “Alright, you just stay here, no need to move a muscle. Let me…I’ll get you a towel–”

Steven tucked himself away and hiked up his trousers to flit over to the kitchen in the open concept living area to do just that. He continued to ramble “--and put away the groceries. I mean I feel like I could go all night with you dressed like that and your boobs back in action, so to speak, but we could probably both use a refractory period.” 

You giggled as Steven cleaned the jar of tomato sauce that broke and stored the surviving food.

“You are bloody amazing, darling. I’m going to buy you the whole of Tiffany’s website for this–”

“As much as I appreciate that honey, maybe not the whole website,” you joked. “We have two kids to raise and put through school.” 

“Fair enough,” he laughed, now equipped with a damp towel. Unlike the way he’d just fucked you, Steven couldn’t have been more gentle when swiping the cloth across your nether regions. He finished with a kiss to your bump. “Do you want some of the chocolate?”

“Always.”

Steven returned with the confection as well as a glass for your other activities. Your mutual refractory period was shortened when he insisted on feeding you, so insisted on fellating his fingers while he did so. It wasn’t long before you were making out like animals, you still perched on top of the table. 

“You make me so horny,” Steven exhaled, “nearly everything you do gets my cock hard.” 

“Is that so?” you asked, putting the milkmaid persona back on for a moment as you reached down to feel his erection for yourself. “Oh, Daddy, you’re so big and stiff.” 

“You’re going to kill me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. 

You pushed him away from you and toward one of the dining room chairs. “But what a way to go.” 

“That’s ttue,” he admitted. Steven shoved his trousers and briefs down once again, this time discarding them completely. He sat bare-ass on the chair, legs spread to proudly display his swollen dick, and beckoned you over to him. “Come have a seat.” 

You carefully dismounted from the dining room table and crossed to join him as sexily as you could…which in all honesty, wasn’t that sexy, but thankfully Steven was too entranced by the sight of your still-exposed breasts to properly notice. 

Your husband guided you down onto his length as slowly and delicately as possible. It turned out it was better to stay standing, palms planted on the wood of the table top, as bent over as one could be with a massive baby bump. Steven stood behind you, one hand securely cradled over where Caleb rested and the other toyed with your clit while he speared you apart. 

“Yeah, that’s it, darling,” he coaxed you while he worked his magic on your body, “you gonna cum? Gonna cum for Daddy?”

Your answer was a nonverbal mix between a moan and a sob. Steven upped the ante by attacking your neck with his mouth. He nibbled on an earlobe then murmured, “C’mon, want you to feel good.” 

He combined a particularly devastating push of his hips with a flick to your clit, and the next thing you knew, you were screaming as your orgasm exploded within you. Thank goodness the cottage was on an acre of land, because otherwise the neighbors would definitely complain to the hosts about the noise. You shook like a leaf as your climax surged from your pelvis outward. Your toes curled in your stockings, and you were equally grateful that Steven had a steady grip on you since you feared your legs may give out. 

“Holy hell, Steven,” you panted once you’d floated back to Earth. 

“Good?”

“Understatement.” 

He held you to him and pressed a kiss to your cheek. The tender moment didn’t last long however, because Steven hooked his chin over your shoulder and peered down at your chest. “Hmmm, you’re still dribbling.” 

You glanced down and saw he was right. “And you’re still hard. Shall we?” 

It was a team, if not slightly awkward, effort to get you in a position when Steven could get his hands on your breasts and remain sheathed in you. He fetched a pillow from the sofa to wedge between your bump and the edge of the table to “protect” Caleb and aligned you with the glass. 

“This is a dream come true,” he raved once Steven had reentered you. He cupped your milk-filled mounds reverently. “Best wife in the world, you are.” 

You hummed at the praise, which swiftly transformed into a keen when your husband pumped a tit, angling your teat toward the interior of the glass. Both of you gasped in unison when the first spray of liquid left your nipple. Only about half made it into the glass, but Steven was far from discouraged. You swore you could feel him his erection surge inside of you. 

“Fucking hell,” he marveled and then repeated the action on your other breast. You couldn’t help that another wrecked little sound escaped you, and your husband couldn’t get enough of it. “Oh fuck.” 

Steven proceeded to drain your tits into the glass on the table and while you knew you could not have painted a more lewd scene, you were too cock-dumb and overstimulated to care. This was wildly kinky, profoundly intimate, and you never wanted it to end. 

You’d filled the glass about a quarter of the way before Steven’s hands lost their aim and his hips spasmed, filling you once again with his seed. Despite the post-orgasm exhaustion that must’ve been settling in, your husband had the presence of mind to keep a hand on your tit and drop the other to your overstuffed pussy. 

The pads of his fingers focused in on your nipple, while the ones in between your legs zeroed in on your clit yet again. His skilled hands worked you to orgasm rapidly while Steven’s cock softened inside of you. 

You came once more with a pathetic-sounding whimper and collapsed back into your husband’s torso once your peak had subsided. 

“Honey,” you mewled when he withdrew his member from you. Feeling empty after having his cock inside you for the better part of the afternoon, you nuzzled into his pectoral to compensate for the loss of contact.

“Daddy’s got you,” he cooed into your hair. Steven then remarked, “If you weren’t already pregnant, that certainly would have done it.”

You didn’t have much more in you than to offer an amused snort at his words. Your weak laughter was soon eclipsed by a yawn. “This milkmaid needs a nap.” 

“’Course,” Steve acquiesced. “Let me help you into the shower, okay love? Unless you’d rather me draw you a bath?” 

You shook your head at the idea. “I don’t think I’ll stay awake long enough for the tub to fill.” 

“Alright darling,” he obliged, leading you to the bedroom and en-suite. 

“Wuh–” you yawned again, “What are you going to do with my milk?” 

Steven’s fond smile darkened a tinge at your inquiry. “Well for now, I’m going to put it in the fridge.”

That didn’t satisfy your curiosity. “Are you going to put it into your tea?” 

“Don’t you worry about that love, I have a few thoughts on how to put it to good use,” Steven soothed you. 

“Oh I’m sure you do,” you retorted. The two of you had made it to the bathroom. Your husband turned on the shower tap and undressed you while you waited for the water to warm. 

“Do you want a cup?” he asked you. 

“Of my milk?” 

“No, darling, of tea.”

“Oh. Duh. Um…maybe when I wake up?” Tiredness clung to your eyelids and limbs. 

Before you stepped under the stream, Steven drew you into a final liplock. “I love you. More than words can ever say.” 

“Me too, sweetie,” you echoed. “This’ll be nice to look back on when we’re up in the middle of the night with two kids.” 

“Hmmm, it will, innit?” he agreed. “But we have a little more time until we get there, so let’s enjoy it okay?”

Steven deposited one more kiss to your forehead and then you got into the bone melting warmth and relief of the shower. 

A/N: *peeks out from behind my hands*. So was it good? I haven’t lost it, right? Anyhoo, Steven’s dialoge “you make me so horny” is a direct reference to the instant classic of a sketch he did with Aidy Bryant on SNL. 

Taglist: @twwcs, @rmoonstoner, @hot-mess-express1, @murdickdocked, @toracainz, @saahmi, @unspokenmoon, @winterbiipp, @avatarofseshat @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6, @harrys-tittie, @ninebluehearts​, @lucianadraven32, @dawnsutopia  @strawberry1042-blog @nikitawolfxo​ 

Translations: 

...bien Papi? Por favor? Para mi? : okay Papi? Please? For me? 

Merci: Thank you

Monsieur: Mister 

no sé -  I don’t know

[mudthekelpie]

Read at your own discretion...

THE MLP FANDOM HAS FAILED IT'S ONE JOB

what kind of low, self loathing, soulless, hate feeding, so called "fans of friendship is magic", illiterate scum, idiotic para-social morons-

would bully someone into harming themselves cause you decided ONE SHOW w-a-s b-e-t-t-e-r t-h-a-n a-n-o-t-h-e-r !

took something beautiful, and made it into the vision of yourself: TRASH!

the whole message of the show is meant to bring people together, not have us fight one another, did you even watch it?!

I'm ashamed to be a part of this fandom, and you all should too.

IT. IS. A. CARTOON. FOR. LITTLE. GIRLS!

IT DOESNT MATTER WHAT SHOW YOU LIKE!

it's not something to K1ll each other over!

Stop acting like the people the actual show is trying to tell us not to be and actually SEE what you're doing to your friends.

tell anyone you know has been outright shaming others for liking one mlp over another. this is stupid and needs to stop. You're being actual children.

let's get the real problems out of this fandom.

[heyymikki]

did i grow up according to plan?

LOCATION: Mikayla Beaumont's home MENTIONED: @elliottortegax @nikodimopoulos @hernando-valdez

It had been weeks since the news of Hernando's connection to Los Santos had gone public and the man in question had gone dark. There wasn't a day that had passed since then where she hadn't worried about him, but she had work and class to think about and couldn't completely abandon her responsibilities. In between those, though, she found herself spending more time with Niko, finding solace in his comforting presence and reassurances that Nando would be alright. Penny had spent more time at the B&B and if Mikayla hadn't known better, she would've thought her mother was avoiding her.

Saturday came and Mikayla finally pulled herself away from Niko's apartment, heading home just before lunchtime so she could get a few things done before work later that night. She hadn't expected her mother to be in the kitchen with a serious look on her face, and dread settled into the young woman's stomach.

"What is it?" she asked. "Have you heard from tio?"

Penelope shook her head, lips turning down in a frown. "Not yet, but I need to talk to you about something."

Mikayla took in her mother's face for a few silent moments, trying to judge what emotions she should expect, but it was a mask with no discernible feeling on display. She pulled out one of the stools at the kitchen island and took a seat, steeling herself.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, the weight of everything left unsaid over decades bearing down on Penny's shoulders. This was a conversation she knew she'd have to have some day, but she had always feared her daughter's response to it. There had been opportunities over the years, times when Mikayla would ask questions about who her father was or how Penny had met him, but she'd always revealed the bare minimum in an effort to spare herself from reliving the trauma of finding out she'd been pregnant -- of being torn away from everything and nearly everyone she knew and loved -- but doing that wasn't fair to Mikayla or Elliott, something he'd so graciously reminded her of when she'd given him the news.

"Before we start," she said, voice barely above a whisper, "I need to ask for your forgiveness."

"Forgiveness?" Mikayla repeated, brows knitted in confusion. "Why would you need that?"

"Because I've been keeping something from you." Penny pulled her gaze away from the counter and looked at her daughter. "It's about your father."

Mikayla sat up straighter in her seat, curiosity piqued. A part of her had wondered if the woman had never revealed her paternity to her because the nature of her conception wasn't born out of a loving relationship, but she respected her mother too much to go behind her back to investigate on her own. She nodded once, a silent plea for Penny to continue.

Her mother took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. "Elliott and I were best friends as kids. We did everything together, with your uncle Devon and our friend Nellie. Basically inseparable. But something changed when we got to high school... and we began to see each other without our parents knowing. Mine didn't approve of him or his family, so I had to keep the relationship a secret, which was easy enough until... until I found out I was pregnant with you." She shook her head some. "I was so scared, I didn't know what to do. Before I had a chance to tell anyone, they found the test in the trash. They were furious, especially when they found out who the father was, and before I knew it, we were moving across the country. I had no way to reach out to him once we were there. They monitored all of my phone time, and I couldn't send him a letter or anything. At one point, it became easier to forget instead of break my heart over and over again with the hope we'd be reunited someday."

The longer she spoke, the more tension fused into Mikayla's bones. "You've... known who he was this whole time?"

Penny nodded slowly, the fear of Mikayla's reaction growing alongside her daughter's emotions.

"Did he know about me?"

Penny nodded again, but added on quickly, "I left him a note before we left to tell him I was pregnant, but it was the only information I could give to him. If he ever discovered who you are outside of that, I don't know."

Mikayla took in a few deep breaths, trying to keep herself calm. "Why are you telling me now?"

"Because he's here. In Tonopah," she said. "And he wants to meet you."

In that moment, Mikayla's world flipped upside down. Not only had Penny kept his identity a secret from her throughout her entire life, but she had also failed to mention that he was somewhere in the town Mikayla had called home for the past three years. Had she seen him around town? Had they occupied the same space and had no idea that they were extensions of each other?

"How long has he been here?" Mikayla's voice was quiet, and Penny had to strain to hear her question, the one she'd been the most afraid of answering.

"He... he never left." She swallowed around a lump in her throat. "He's always lived here."

She was quiet. "Did you know that when I said I was coming here?"

"No, conejita," she responded quickly, walking around the island to wrap her daughter in a reassuring embrace, but Mikayla pulled away before she could, standing from her seat. "I swear I had no idea he never left. He ran a chain of hotels around the country, so I assumed h--"

"So you must've looked into him at some point if you know that. Did you ever try to reach out?" she asked, her voice rising with every new question.

Penny, trying not to show the hurt on her face, shook her head once more.

"He could have helped us, mami. When you got sick. H-he could have-- do you have any idea what I've done for yo--" Mikayla stopped herself, hand covering her mouth as the rush of hot tears that had been rising to the surface finally bubbled over and raced down her cheeks. She turned away from Penny, inhaling a shaking breath and forcing herself to be steady.

Penny had never put the responsibility of her care onto Mikayla's shoulders and never would have asked her to go to the extremes that she had done in order for her to receive the best care possible. She should have seen the signs, though: the long hours of 'studying' at a friend's house and coming home in the wee hours of the morning, the night terrors that kept her awake at night for fear she'd never be able to escape the next one, the sheer amount of money a barely legal teenager was bringing home at the end of every week. It would break her mother's heart to learn the truth about where all the money had come from, and Mikayla knew in her mind it wasn't fair to hold the choices she had made against her, but she mourned the life she could've had if Penny had just picked up the phone to call him and ask for help. She was the mother; she was supposed to be the one protecting Mikayla, not the other way around.

"M'ija," Penelope pleaded, placing her hand onto Mikayla's shoulder. Mikayla shrugged it off.

"Don't," she choked out, sniffling. "You should have told me sooner." She turned towards Penny, a harsh glare hidden amongst the pain in her eyes. "I gave up my childhood and put my life on hold for over a decade because you let your pride get in the way of asking for help. I don't know if I can forgive you for that."

Mikayla had never seen this look on her mother's face before, but it was unmistakable: heartbreak.

Any other time, for any other grievance she may have carried, she would have wrapped her mother up in her arms and apologized in that moment, but there was no way for her to moved past that feeling of betrayal that came with the knowledge she never would have had to go through everything she had if her father had just been allowed to be a part of her life.

"I don't want to be near you right now, so I'm going to stay with a friend for a few days." She walked past her mother towards the stairs. Thankfully, she didn't follow.

[dale-gekarios]

Latin Spell chants for BG3

I did not make this list! It was made by ExoZilla in r/BaldursGate3 but I wanted to share it here! This list is from early access, so it only has up to level 2 spells, but honestly the chants stay similar for higher level spells. Some of these might have also changed since EA so take that with a grain of salt, anywhere here’s the original post:

Disclaimer: I do not speak Latin. Some of my spelling/translations/syntax are going to be wrong. Most of them are from Wikipedia, random websites, and context clues. Also, if anyone knows the chants I wasn't able to translate/translate correctly, feel free to correct me.

Cantrips:

Fire Bolt- Ignis (Fire)

Ray of Frost- Glacies (Ice)

Acid Splash- Acido (Acid)

Blade Ward/Guidance/Thaumaturgy- Maior et Fortior ("Greater and Stronger")

Chill Touch- Timere ("Be afraid!")

Dancing Lights/Light/Produce Flame- Fiat Lux/Sol Invictus (“Let there be light”/“Unconquered sun”)

Eldritch Blast- Dolor* (Mental/Physical Pain)

Mage Hand- Veni et iuva me ("Come and help me!")

Poison Spray- Venenum (Poison)

Resistance- Resisto ("I resist")

Sacred Flame- Incende ("Set fire!")

Shillelagh/Flame Blade- Para bellum/Canto te ("prepare for war"/"I enchant you”)

Shocking Grasp- Fulgor (Levin or flash)

Thorn Whip- Flagellum, Flagello/ ?? verum (to flagellate, whip/"?? sweep")

True Strike- N/A

Friends- N/A

1st level Spells:

Armor of Agathys/Barkskin/Bless/Enhance Ability/Jump/Mage Armor/Shield of Faith- Macte virtute ("Be blessed with virtue")

Arms of Hadar/Inflict Wounds- Morere ("Die!")

Animal Friendship- Obedi me/Obeus temeum lupum ("Obey me"/??)

Bane/Ray of Enfeeblement- Tu est nihil (“You are nothing”)

Burning Hands/Scorching Ray- Ardere (To burn)

Charm Person- Impero te/Tempora muntante ("I rule you”/“Temporary change”?)

Color Spray/Blindness- Te occludo oculos/Caecus te("I blind your eyes"/"I blind you")

Command/Ensnaring Strike/Sleep- Impero tibi (“I rule you”)

Create Water- Lues/Aqua pura (Plague, pestilence?/“Clean water”)

Cure Wounds/Healing Word- Te curo/Vis medicatrix* (“I cure you”/"healing power")

Destroy Water- Arescere/Arere decimos ("Become dry"/"Become ten times as dry"?)

Disguise self- Mutatis mutandis/Omnia mutatio (“With things changed that should be changed”/“Change it all”)

Dissonant Whispers- Dolor ("Mental/Physical Pain")

Entangle- Voco vinae/Vinum est et gloriat ("I call forth vines"/??)

Faerie Fire- Te video/Ubi est ("I see you”/“Where are you?”)

False Life/Aid- Vitae extollato/Dum vita est spes est ("Life raised"?/"While there is life, there is hope")

Feather Fall- Non fit injura/Se neme ("There will be no injury/harm"/??)

Find Familiar/Goodberry/Moonbeam- Ex textura (“Weave from the outside”?)

Fog Cloud- Voco nubes ("I call forth clouds")

Grease- Voco arvina ("I call forth grease")

Guiding Bolt- Facula/Flagra ("Little torch"/"Blaze/be inflamed")**

Hail of Thorns- Dia denum (??)

Hellish Rebuke/Flaming Sphere/Spike Growth- Ira et dolor ("Wrath and pain")

Hex- Maledicus/Te exsecror (Abusive, scurrilous/“I curse you”)

Hunter’s Mark- Est praedae mae/Mos certa (“You are my prey”/"Certain death"?)

Longstrider/Expeditious Retreat- Proprae/Ocior/Citium (??)

Magic Missile- Tormentum (a piece of artillery/missile)

Protection from Good and Evil- Tueor/vincit qui patitur (To watch over, protect/“he conquers who endures”)

Ray of Sickness- Inficio ("Infect")

Speak with Animals- Amicus animales/Loqui ut tibi placet (“friend of animals“/“To speak as you please”?)

Tasha’s Hideous Laughter- Rezum teniates??/Reza sabuntat?? (??)

Thunderwave/Shatter- Detono (Thunder/"Expend one's thunder")

Witch Bolt- Harures (??)

*Non-Tav/NPC exclusive line

2nd level spells:

Blur- Incomodo?/Nullus sui ("Inconvenient"?/"None of him/her/them")

Darkness- Tenebrum/Umbra (Darkness/Shadow)

Darkvision- Lux en tenebra/Secretum curaro (“Light in darkness”/??)

Detect Thoughts- Video veritatem/Virtus est scientia (“I see the truth”/“Virtue is knowledge”)

Hold Person- Non movere/Ad lapide (“You do not move”/“To stone!”)

Invisibility/Pass Without a Trace- Evanesco/Invisibilis (To vanish, disappear/ self-explanatory)

Lesser Restoration- Te absolvo/Vincere est vivere (“I absolve you”/“To conquer is to live”)

Melf’s Acid Arrow- Dissolvae (Self-explanatory)

Mirror Image- Fronte nulla vides/Mundus vult decipi ("No faith in the front"?/“The world wants to be deceived”)

Misty Step- Inveniam viam/Ad alibi (“I will find a way”/"To elsewhere")

Prayer of Healing- Fiat voluntas Dei/Ad maiorem Dei gloriam (“May God’s will be done”/“For the greater glory of God”)

Protection from Poison- Résistance venenum (“resist venom/poison”)

Silence- Silencio (Self-explanatory)

Web- Voco arenea ("I call forth a spider's web")

[gvldntrbl]

Jakovan Petrov (ft. The Petrov/Petrova family, past and present)

During: LM Event 5

Warnings for: comatose state, mentions of violence (light stabbing), assassination attempt

Jakovan took a slow step back and the usually cool former diplomat and dark witch felt as panic encased him. “I’m right. Sonce, Vadik, Annika-” His eyes darted towards his mother. “Mama,” His voice cracked. “I’m right here. I’m not...” His chest heaved noticeably as he attempted to breathe deeply and calm himself. “I’m not dead. I can’t. I can’t be dead... can I?” The latter part of his statement was more to himself. A whisper he dared to not give more power. Lest it become a reality.

The sound of sniffles seemed to echo as Jakovan walked down the hall. It was a noise that was foreign within the walls of Nox Castle. The sound of his wife crying. Not that she was immune to the emotion, she was not. But instead, it was a noise that Jakovan made sure to rectify whenever an ounce of sadness fell at Wren’s feet. The dark witch would state that it was a reaction to their mate bond but even then, he knew that it wasn’t exactly the truth. But rather, he would rather Wren never suffered again. The ancestors were more than aware of the faerie’s life and former marriage before him. With slight confusion and quiet irritation of who could’ve disturbed his wife, Jakovan finished the short distance towards the sound of crying.

“Sonce,” At the call of her nickname, the crying had yet to cease. Oddly, it was as though it made her weep even more. “Sonce, what happened?” When Jakovan reached the open door way, a cold trickle of realization and dread washed over him at the sight. There, in various locations of the spacious room, were his family. His parents sat, off to themselves, wearing solemn expressions and casting long glances of concern towards everyone’s focal point. Near the windows and basked in the light of day, sat Annika, his second-born and oldest daughter. Jakovan registered as one of his brothers walked passed, towards Annika, but not before clasping a hand of quiet and strong support onto a pair of shoulders that only a father could recognize anywhere.

...His eldest child. “Vadik,” He uttered, confusion clear in his tone as he approached. Somehow, Damien was unable to hear hear. “What’s going-” The words remained in Jakovan’s throat as blue eyes, wide and in disbelief, took in the sight of his own body in a bed. Where his wife and oldest son stood vigil. One of the dark witch’s hands extended, and in thoughtless, blind faith, attempted to touch something. Anything. Anyone. Except harsh surprise mingled with shock ran through him when the very limb went through Damien’s shoulder that one of his uncle’s touched, mere moments ago.

Jakovan took a slow step back and the usually cool former diplomat and dark witch felt as panic encased him. “I’m right. Sonce, Vadik, Annika-” His eyes darted towards his mother. “Mama,” His voice cracked. “I’m right here. I’m not...” His chest heaved noticeably as he attempted to breathe deeply and calm himself. “I’m not dead. I can’t. I can’t be dead... can I?” The latter part of his statement was more to himself. A whisper that he dared not to give more power. Lest it became a reality. “No.” A voice, soft yet sturdy replied back to him. Jakovan hadn’t noticed that he’d changed locations. Gone was the makeshift hospital room for him in his own home. Instead, the dark witch stood in a vast plain where the sight of his favorite mountain range in Westland greeted him.

“Bubulya Daria?” His great-maternal grandmother came to him and took his hand into both of her own. Daria was a powerful dark witch in her own right. Wise as she was formidable. “Misha,” She replied in her warm and familiar tone. Decades after her death and subconsciously, Jakovan marveled at how she still felt the same. She was just as he remembered. Daria Petrova had been the rock whom he hoped the ancestors chose to lead Westland. But instead, they chose him. "Don’t you remember, child?” Jakovan blinked and shook his head, as if to clear his muddled recollection. It was as though nothingness took ahold of his memories whenever he tried to think of his moments before.

“No, I-” And then, as if he were a boy once more, Daria lovingly reached up and took Misha’s face into her hands before angling his head to meet her gaze. Beyond life and his grandmother was still there for him, helping Misha. Ancestral protection and guidance was  truly a gift. Moments later, one of her hands moved and the pads of her fingers pressed to his temple. He felt it, the exact second that the mental block was removed and he could remember. “How about now?” Daria asked, sending the High Priest and pointed but familiar look.

With a sharp inhale and grimaced expression, Jakovan remembered. The vanishing of his personal praetorians, the mysterious attacker and the violent hell that ensued before he was struck down. The duo had moved again, only that time, they were in the sitting room of the family estate in mountains, near the warmth of the fireplace. “Did you want a drink?” Bubulya’s words echoed back to when he learned of Annora’s pregnancy with Damien. It was the exact thing she asked him when Jakovan told her. At the memory, a ghost of a smile touched the corner of his lips. “No, ma’am.” “Do you know who did it?” She volleyed back, her accent deepening with her evident concern. “No, not yet.” Despite Jakovan’s answer being short, both knew that it was also a promise that he would be certain to uncover whomever had the gall to tried to kill him.

“You will.” Daria replied, her tone nearing dismissive with her assurance that he would succeed. “But first, I’ve spent enough time with you. Let us get you back, yes? You are beloved on both sides of the veil. But your time isn’t done yet, not over there. Come, Misha. Let’s get you home.”

At the mention of home, the echoes of Wren’s cries arose and the feeling of literal heartache made him press a hand to his chest in reaction. The sight of his children, his family, near his side caused a deep, unnerving to gather into his being. “Please, Bubulya. Take me home.”

[palavraseminglesbr]

130 Frases em Inglês Para fotos com Tradução

          Nesse artigo iremos mostrar frases em inglês para foto com tradução para o português, portanto fique até o final do post e saiba quais são elas.

Seja uma foto com amigos, sozinha, namorado ou família, é sempre muito complicado escolher qual legenda ficaria mais bonita, não é verdade? Portanto,com nossa lista de frases em inglês que fizemos para melhorar suas legendas nas redes sociais (WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram, etc), suas fotos ficaram bem mais destacadas.

Veja também >>> 100 palavras em inglês mais usada no cotidiano com tradução

130 frases em inglês para foto com tradução para turbinar suas legendas

Be love, be light, be you. (Seja amor, seja luz, seja você.)

I’ve got no self-control. (Eu não tenho auto-controle)

We are all made of stars. Shine! (Todos nós somos feitos de estrelas. Brilhe!)

Life’s too short to have regrets. (A vida é muito curta para arrependimentos)

What is coming is better than what is gone. (O que virá é melhor do que o que se foi)

Life is better at the beach. (A vida é melhor na praia.)

Always be thankful! (Sempre seja grato)

Don’t listen to what they say. Go see. (Não escute o que eles dizem. Vá ver por você mesmo.)

I love the little things you do. (Eu amo as pequenas coisas que você faz)

We all deserve something better. (Todos nós merecemos algo melhor.)

You can do a lot with a smile. Especially a better day. (Dá pra fazer muita coisa com um sorriso. Principalmente um dia melhor.)

It’s all good now. (Está tudo bem agora)

Don’t let little stupid things break your happiness. (Não deixe pequenas coisas estúpidas acabarem com sua felicidade)

No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow. (Não importa a duração do inverno, a primavera com certeza virá a seguir)

Do more with less. (Faça mais com menos).

My body, my rules. (Meu corpo, minhas regras)

You are capable of more than you think. (Você é capaz de mais do que pensa)

It takes more energy to be mean than to be kind. (É preciso mais energia para ser mal do que para ser gentil)

Your only limit is your mind. (Seu único limite é a sua mente)

Take more risks. (Arrisque-se mais)

A great future does not require a great past. (Um grande futuro não requer um grande passado.)

Be the kindness the world needs. (Seja a gentileza que o mundo precisa)

Focus on progress not perfection. (Foco no progresso, não na perfeição)

Mistakes are portals of discovery. (Os erros são portais para descobertas)

Feed your soul. (Alimente sua alma)

You don’t have to hurt someone to move on. (Você não precisa machucar ninguém para seguir em frente)

Nothing is worth more than laughter. (Nada vale mais que o riso)

Just smile. (Apenas sorria)

Don’t wait for inspiration. Be an inspiration. (Não espere por inspiração. Seja uma inspiração)

I am not lazy. I am on energy saving mode. (Eu não sou preguiçoso. Eu estou no modo de economia de energia)

If it doesn’t make you happy, let it go. (Se isso não te faz feliz, deixe ir)

Thank you God for blessing me much more than I deserve. (Obrigado Deus por me abençoar muito mais do que eu mereço.)

Live the life you’ve imagined. (Viva a vida que você imaginou)

Don’t forget your dream. (Não esqueça do seu sonho.)

What ever you decide to do, make sure it makes you happy. (O que quer que você decida fazer, certifique-se de que te faça feliz)

Make each day a new horizon. (Faça de cada dia um novo horizonte.)

Enjoy today! (Aproveite o hoje!)

Be positive, patient and persistent! (Seja positivo, paciente e persistente!)

It’s a new day. (É um novo dia.)

Follow your dreams. (Siga seus sonhos)

If you don’t belong, don’t be long. (Se você não pertence, não fique muito tempo)

God is love. (Deus é amor)

Let it be. (Deixe ser)

I will be grateful for this day. (Serei grato por este dia)

In the end, we only regret the chances we didn´t take. (No final, só nos arrependemos das oportunidades que não aproveitamos)

Success is the best revenge. (Sucesso é a melhor vingança.)

Do more of what makes you happy. (Faça mais o que te faz feliz)

Life is beautiful. (A vida é bonita.)

Love your body. (Ame seu corpo.)

Forever hungry. (Sempre com fome)

Sometimes the wrong choices bring us to the right places. (Às vezes, escolhas erradas nos levam para os lugares certos.)

Forever young! (Eternamente jovem!)

Inspire someone today. (Inspire alguém hoje)

If not now, when? (Se não agora, quando?)

All you need is love. (Tudo que você precisa é amor)

I hope you feel the light in your soul. (Eu espero que você sinta a luz em sua alma.)

 You have the key. Why don’t you use it? (Você tem a chave. Por que você não usa?)

The strength that I need is already inside me. (A força que eu preciso já está dentro de mim.)

Always see the good side in all things. (Veja sempre o lado bom em todas as coisas.)

Joy is not in things, is in us. (A alegria não está nas coisas, está em nós.)

Courage, dear heart. (Coragem, querido coração.)

If you can’t be kind, be quiet. (Se você não pode ser gentil, fique quieto.)

Never forget to smile. (Nunca esqueça de sorrir.)

You’re my sunshine. (Você é meu raio de sol.)

Dream big. (Sonhe alto.)

Things take time. (As coisas levam tempo.)

It’s time to love. (É tempo de amar.)

Adventure is out there. (A aventura está lá fora.)

Home is wherever I’m with you. (Lar é qualquer lugar que eu esteja com você)

Your love was handmade for somebody like me. (Seu amor foi feito apara alguém como eu)

Never lose your faith. (Nunca perca sua fé.)

Long life, small world… (Vida longa, mundo pequeno.)

Your happiness is your responsibility. (A sua felicidade é sua responsabilidade)

May love be light and all evil be brief. (Que o amor seja leve e todo mal seja breve)

Who looks back, stumbles! (Quem olha para trás, tropeça!)

Do all things with love. (Faça tudo com amor.)

As long as there is a dream to follow, there will be reason to exist. (Enquanto houver um sonho para seguir, haverá motivo para existir.)

The best gift is you. (O melhor presente é você.)

Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud. (Tente ser um arco-íris na nuvem de alguém.)

Make love, not war. (Faça amor, não faça guerra.)

Love is the answer, at least for most of the questions in my heart. (O amor é a resposta, ao menos para a maioria das perguntas do meu coração.)

Just keep me where the light is. (Apenas me mantenha aonde a luz está.)

What I sought and didn’t find, I became. (O que eu procurava e não encontrei, eu me tornei.)

Show the world what you can do. (Mostre ao mundo o que você pode fazer)

I chose to be happy. (Escolhi ser feliz.)

Live the story you want to tell. (Viva a história que você quer contar.)

Don’t be afraid to dream! (Não tenha medo de sonhar!)

Be the person you want to have in your life. (Seja a pessoa que você quer ter em sua vida.)

Sometimes you win and sometimes you learn. (Às vezes você ganha e às vezes você aprende.)

Flowers need time to bloom. You too. (Flores precisam de tempo para florescer. Você também.)

No rain, no flowers. (Sem chuva, sem flores.)

Everybody grows at different rates. (Todo mundo cresce em diferentes modos.)

Life is a collection of moments. (A vida é uma coleção de momentos)

Everyday is a new fresh start. (Todo dia é um novo começo.)

Remember why you started. (Lembre-se do porquê você começou.)

Kindness changes everything. (Bondade muda tudo.)

Trust the timing of your life. (Confie no momento da sua vida.)

Life is tough, but so are you. (A vida é dura, mas você também é.)

The best is yet to come. (O melhor está por vir.)

Work hard. Stay humble. (Trabalhe duro, continue humilde.)

Never say never. (Nunca diga nunca)

To err is human, to forgive is divine. (Errar é humano, perdoar é divino.)

Faith is everything when you have nothing. (A fé é tudo, quando não se tem nada)

My dream came true because of you. (Meu sonho se realizou por causa de você.)

You don’t need anyone to make you happy. Happiness is for everyone. (Você não precisa de ninguém para te fazer feliz. A felicidade é para todos.)

It’s not the winning that counts, but how you play the game. (O importante é participar.)

Life is full of surprises. (A vida é cheia de surpresas.)

Never forget: Gratitude is the best attitude. (Nunca se esqueça: A gratidão é a melhor atitude.)

Life is like a fairy tale. Everything always ends well. If it doesn’t, it’s because it’s not yet the end. (A vida é como um conto de fadas. Tudo sempre acaba bem. Se não acabar, é porque ainda não é o fim.)

When you feel down, remember that nothing lasts forever. (Quando se sentir para baixo, lembre-se de que nada é para sempre.)

Love heals. (O amor cura.)

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. (O que não te mata, te deixa mais forte.)

I’m the best at what I do. (Eu sou o melhor no que faço.)

Hope springs eternal. (A esperança é a última que morre.

You can’t please everyone. (Não se consegue agradar a todos.)

I’m happy now. I’ll be happy forever. (Eu estou feliz agora. Vou ser feliz para sempre.)

Don’t give up on your first try. (Não desista na primeira tentativa.)

You’re destined for great things. (Você é um predestinado.)

Tomorrow is another day. (Amanhã é outro dia.)

Life goes on! (Vida que segue! Bola pra frente!)

Last night I had a dream. Now I see it here. (Na noite passada, tive um sonho. Agora, o vejo aqui.)

Patience is a virtue. (A paciência é uma virtude.)

Love is all I need. (O amor é tudo que eu preciso.)

The more you learn, the better you get. (Quanto mais se aprende, melhor se fica.)

When things seem impossible, don’t give up. Miracles happen. (Quando as coisas parecerem impossíveis, não desista. Milagres acontecem.)

Life is eternal if you really have faith. (A vida é eterna se você realmente tiver fé.)

Time is money. (Tempo é dinheiro.)

Hard work can make your dreams come true. (O trabalho duro pode realizar os seus sonhos.)

I’m serious about what I do. (Eu levo a sério o que eu faço.)

Winning is a matter of practice. (Vencer é uma questão de prática.)

Essas são as principais frases em inglês para foto com tradução em português para turbinar suas redes sociais com belas legendas em inglês. Gostou das frases ? Deixe seu comentário com as que você mais gosta!

O post 130 Frases em Inglês Para fotos com Tradução apareceu primeiro em PALAVRAS EM INGLÊS BR.

[roses-bah-garden]

My my it looks like we have another garden amongst the radqueer and BAH spaces put up your hands for a fight!..... aaaaanyways just here to pop in a request take your time (genuinely) cause we understand the amount of time it takes T^T

We're looking for a level 4

Name - maybe something like Eros, Adonis, but not one of those two smth that sounds ancient Pronouns - Any go wild honestly just at least include It/It's Age - 18+ but under 30 (Exact age ageslider etc is up to you :) ) Species - Maned wolf and human hybrid :) Gender identity - Masc and gender neutral in some sense not picky on how many or if xenos are included Sexual orientation - Uranic Source - N/A (Brainmade) Roles - You can pick Sign-off - you can also pick Personality - Chaotic, Unpredictable, you can add more Likes - Urban exploring, you can pick the rest :) Dislikes - You can pick some :) Front triggers - N/A (You don't need to include) CisIDs - Mohawk, Ginger and black hair, Tall, Tanned skin, Cane user (for stability), please add more :D TransIDs - TransRussian, TransKneeBraceUser, TransStoner, TransSlenderVerse, Please add more :D (Nothing that's extremely intense SH is okay but no ED or Abuser type of TransIDs please but other TransHarmful & TransHarmed IDs are cool with us) Paras - Sadomasochist and that's it Appearance - Ginger and black hair, Tanned skin, Mohawk, Snake bites, Other piercings (Doesn't need to be show in the image if too difficult to find :) )

Feel free to deny the request if too overwhelmed by requests we can ask another blog thank you if you do complete this request

- Cumulus and Vex (@the-transid-gacha)

here you go! love your blog guys, keep up the great work.

a new flower has blossomed! 🌹

maned wolf/human hybrid ... [LVL 4 PACK]

══════════════════

name(s) ;; achilles, polites, judas, marius, cupid, cleo

pronouns ;; it/its, hx/hxm, he/him, snow/snows, bite/bites, bark/barks, 🐺/🐺self

age ;; chrono18, trans21

species ;; maned wolf/human hybrid

gender(s) ;; protagboy, wolfgender

orientation(s) ;; uranic

role(s) ;; swordsperson

source ;; brainmade / alter pack

sign-off(s) ;; 🧡🐺🖤

══════════════════

appearance ;; 6'4" and slightly chubby. tanned skin. ginger and black mohawk. dark brown eyes. snake bites, belly button piercing, septum ring. tramp stamp tattoo. see below for picrew.

personality ;; chaotic and unpredictable. it is loud, with a barking laugh and a snarky sense of humour. hx enjoys being the centre of attention, but isn't bossy or pushy about it. always has a fun fact or tangent to share.

══════════════════

likes ;; urban exploration, theme parks, sharing fun facts, being around those closest to the system

dislikes ;; being bored, loneliness

possible front triggers ;; n/a

══════════════════

cisid(s) ;; cane user, cisIndigenous, cisADHD, cisautistic

transid(s) ;; transRussian, transkneebraceuser, transstoner, transslenderverse, transPOTS, aquirace, transage

kink/fetish/para(s) ;; sadomasochism

[strawberriederror]

INTRODUCTION, WOO!!!

•Hi hi! I’m Jams, Error, etc, whatever you’d want to call me, I don’t really care too much 🎪

•I’ve been around here for quite some time already, maybe a year if I recall correctly, and I finally feel like a real, permanent introduction is to be made. So here we go!!! 🎪 🎡🎠

(About Me & more under cut + my DNI’s and content warnings :])

🎡 About Me:

•I am a 16 y/o intermediate digital + traditional artist on Tumblr

•Of Mexican descent but nationality-wise am American. And as well bilingual to both Spanish and English (even though I suck at both).

•I go by any pronouns, like I’ve said before, idrc

🎠 What I Post:

—What I post on here many times wont fluctuate too far from art, but for specifics, I make:

•Shit posts, doodles.

•Ship art, fanart.

•Self Inserts, original characters.

•Character designs/redesigns.

•Collaborations, Requests

-Hopefully some small comic strips too later on.

🎪 Fandoms:

—As said before, I will be making [a sh!t ton of] fanarts, mostly off of these fandoms:

•Slashers, Creepypastas, Marble Hornets, Slenderverse (is that a thing??) and the Slendermansion

•Undertale, Undertale AU’s and Underverse

•Mascot horrors like Five Nights at Freddy’s +other fan-made variants. Baldi’s Basics, Poppy’s Playtime, Garten of Banban…

•Abstract horrors like Bugbo, The Amazing Digital Circus and Gregory Horror Show

•Shows such as One Piece, Mob Psycho 100, and Supernatural

•Games ranging from Harvest Town/Stardew Valley, KinitoPet, to Resident Evil and Silent Hill

❌ DNI’s:

—Call me a snowflake, but we all know the drill. No homphobes, transphobes, racists, bigots, proshippers, pro-para, pro-fics, radqueers, transids, or any other weirdos are welcome here. You won’t get interacted with and will get immediately blocked + made fun of.

❌ Warnings:

—If by the fandoms that I follow didn’t quite say it; There will occasionally be blood, gore, and other topics in here such as mildly hinted manipulation, body horror, cannibalism, etc.

But yeah, that’s all! I hope you enjoy your stay :)