#tactical pants review

[safetyall]

CQR Men's Flex Ripstop Tactical Pants, Water Resistant Stretch Cargo Pants, Lightweight EDC Hiking Work Pants

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[amputeeoutdoors]

TearWild Tactical Pants Review - Rated on Comfort, Ease of Use & Craftsm...

[lostintransist]

This Bunny Bites | Part 6

Check out part 1 here. Shout out to @gildui for the use of divider!

Stubble man knocked at the door at a mere ten AM. You squint at him past the bright light that shines into your eyes from beyond his head.

“Da fuck do you want?” You don’t even pretend to be happy to see him.

“Well I have your contract for review,” he waves a stack of papers in one hand.

“And I bet you want to take a seat on my couch while I review it right?”

He pulls a face of ‘Well that’s not a bad idea’. This man knew how to talk himself into someone’s bed, this had the feel of a tactical maneuver. You knew wearing your ugliest jammies to bed last night had been the right move. They covered everything from wrist to ankle.

You roll your eyes, you did not have nearly enough sleep for this nonsense.

“Touch anything and I’ll superglue your fingers together,” you step back and point him to the couch.

Once he clears the doorway you shut the door and engage the deadbolt. You had gotten to sleep about two AM but ten still felt too early to be upright. You make yourself a double espresso with creamer.

“No offer of a drink to your guest?” Stubble jibes from the couch where he has spread out.

“Guests receive manners, invaders will be lucky to escape with their lives,” you slurp at your drink.

You clock the eye twitch at the sound, so many people hated it. You move to one edge of the couch, flicking your fingers to indicate he should move further down. He does, turning to face you on the couch. One leg tucked across the seat he stretches out his arm along the back of the couch. You settle in, legs tucked under you. You place your coffee on the table and pull the contract into your lap.

The document is thick, legal jargon mucking up every sentence. You parse through it, pausing occasionally to finish off your drink before it becomes too bitter to stomach.

You come across a line you will not abide by and glance around for a pen. The man on the other end of your couch notices.

“You needin’ something?”

“A pen.”

He pulls one from a pocket in his pants. You look him up and down, deciding if a pen would obligate you to a conversation.

You take it by the proffered end, careful to not brush him.

“So, do you like what you do for work?” his voice is light as if this question isn’t a trap.

You sigh, “Three questions, that’s what I will give you but only if you keep silent until I am done with this document.”

He shrugs, “Fair enough” Leaning forward he offers a hand for shaking. “I’m Gaz by the way.”

“What an interesting name,” you shake his hand with a cold fish grip. Every choice you make around men is to make them underestimate you, to ignore you, or to manipulate them exactly where you need them to push them off a cliff.

“And your name?” he probes.

“Since it’s on this contract I am going to assume you know it,” you begin to strike through portions of the contract and initial them as you go.

“Your brother calls you bunny.”

“My half-brother lost the right to call me that a long time ago,” you snarl at the paper.

“Half? He didn’t mention.”

“I wonder why not,” you snap, “bet it would make him look better if he mentioned it.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the rage slip through your veins like syrup.

“What happened between you two?”

You glance at him from your peripherals, “You using that as one of your questions? Because I won’t be answering it if so.”

“Nope, just talking out loud,” he smiles at you, a practiced ‘look at how cute I am’ smile.

You humph, turning all of your attention back to the papers. It takes you another ten minutes to get through the last of the document. You set the pen down on the stack and stretch out your neck, finger rubbing into your muscles.

“I could do that for you?”

The glare you toss at him is acerbic.

“You’d have better luck with a man you closeted bisexual.”

His jaw drops open, true shock on his face.

You scoop up the contract and drop it in his lap. “Now if there is nothing else I would like to get back to my day.”

Standing you snag your cup from the table, walk into your small kitchen, and wash the single mug. You place it in the small drying rack. Rubbing your hands over a towel you find Gaz still seated on your couch.

“Don’t you have someone else to bother today?” You toss the towel across one shoulder. If he leaves soon you should have time to vacuum before getting over to Mrs. Johnson’s house.

Once a week you helped Mrs. Johnson clean her bathroom. She had fallen a few months back and could no longer safely clean the toilet or shower. You worked with a nonprofit that connected able-bodied adults with aging people in the community. Mrs. Johnson had been a pinup girl in her heyday and didn’t judge you for how you made your money.

Gaz looks up at you, distressed. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I like men?”

“Ah,” he must not have told anyone yet. “Call it an educated guess.”

His brows creased together, lips puckering.

“I hate that answer.”

You shrug, not much you can do about his feelings.

“Tell your boss to call me after he reviews the changes. I need to know what the hell is expected of me so I can get ready for it.” You move to the front door, done giving subtle hints.

You unlock and open the front door, waiting for him to get the hint.

He finally does as the sunlight filters into the room. He stands and stops just before you.

“Really, an educated guess?” he sounds as if he still doesn’t believe you.

“Yep,” you pop the p in your word. “Now shoo, I have things to do.”

He leaves, steps barely making a sound as he bounds down the three flights of stairs to the parking lot. What is it with men and not believing you?

Gaz wondered about you clocking him so fast, he had only just confronted the fact himself that he was attracted to men. He thought on it the entire drive back to the house Price had set up for them to use while out here. Parking and entering the house were background functions to the fact someone knew his deepest secret.

He dropped the contract on the table next to the chess game going between Ghost and Price.

“Everything go alright?” Price questioned without looking up. He rubbed at his beard, something he only did while deep in thought.

“Well enough, she made adjustments and requested a call,” Gaz reports. He reviews the board, they were evenly matched at this point.

Ghost tended to win their matches. He had more time in his head to run games since he went out on so many missions while Price tended to get trapped behind a desk and filling out paperwork.

Gaz left them to their game, pulling out his own. Slipping on headphones and taking a seat on the couch he settles into his farming game, a mental break to all the destruction he usually wrought.

Your words rattle the boxes in his mind ‘You closeted bisexual.’ What a way to start a long job.

Part 5 | Part 7

Masterlist | Bunny Masterlist

[bigboysfalldeep]

mass cop conversion

After a successful field test, Officers Bradley, Johnson, Miller, and Phillips were sitting inside their vehicle. It was a pretty exhausting day, doing multiple fitness tests, shooting exercises, and reviewing tactical guidelines.

They are on their way back to the station on a vacant road through the forest, a little outside of town. Bradley has been sitting in the passenger seat right next to his partner for 3 years, Johnson, who's sitting behind the steering wheel. The other two officers are sitting in the back, both of them browsing their phones. He exchanged a knowing look with his partner before shaking their heads and smiling.

As two senior officers, they had to teach the greener cops how to act, what to do, and what to say without causing too much trouble. It was working quite well, but at times, the rookies, especially Phillips, were a bit too enthusiastic.

After a long day at work, Bradley was barely able to keep his eyes open; luckily, he wasn't the one driving. Yet, as he rests his head against the seat behind him, he spots a little bright light shining through the woods.

"That's odd." He growled, drawing Johnson's attention.

"What?" His partner asked before turning his head as well.

Both of them watch the light shine brighter, illuminating more and more of the forest ground.

Now, even the rookies turned their heads, and all four men watched the light approach them, bewildered, before Johnson stopped the car.

"What are you doing?" Miller asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"It could be something worth investigating." Bradley said, looking at his partner.

But then, before any of the officers could react, the light widened even more, engulfing their entire vehicle in a bright, white light.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said, covering his eyes with the back of his hands, as all the others did the same.

Through his fingers, he was able to see a big, shadowy figure approach their car from the front, clearly the source of this bright light.

"Fuck this." Johnson grunted, hitting the horn of the car in frustration.

"Who is this motherfucker?" Phillips groaned, trying to get a better look at the source of light as well.

Shaking his head, Bradley reached for the door, but before he could open it, a weird feeling spread through him.

The air all around them grew thicker, so heavy that it got so much harder to breathe properly. A burning sensation spread across Bradley's skin and eyes; clearly, it wasn't some ordinary light.

"Fuck." Miller groaned as well, and Bradley turned his head to the other officer's. Just by their expression alone, he knew they were feeling the same thing.

With his hands shaking, he reached for the door again, but the pressure on his body just got way worse. Something was pushing him back—some invisible force causing their bodies to stay in place.

"We need....to get out." Bradley's body was pressed against the seat, and he couldn't move a muscle; instead, his body tensed more and more due to the pressure put upon it.

"I can't.." Johnson said breathlessly, obviously feeling the same. "What is this?" His face grimaced in pain, and his voice broke, ending in a silent moan.

Bradley turned his head to find his partner leaning back against the seat, breathing very quickly. Both of his hands are on his chest, clawing at his clothes. He could tell that he was barely able to breathe.

At this time, his breath quickened rapidly as well. As Bradley tried to regain his composure, he looked at the rookies through the rear view mirror, just to see them in a similar state. Phillips looked even worse, sweating and panting heavily while also clawing at his tight uniform. The temperature inside the car rose as well, causing their predicament to feel even worse.

Both rookies looked at him, seemingly asking for help, but there was nothing he could do.

"It's going to be fine." He growled, trying to make the rookies feel at ease, even though he didn't even know what was happening to them.

Bradley shook his head but was unable to avoid the light. His face flushed with color as his skin heated up even more.

Subconsciously, he started to tug at his clothes and his vest, and he somehow managed to remove his helmet, making it a little easier to breathe, just for a second. It dropped to the floor, but the pressure on his chest intensified again.

The light was shining ever so brightly right inside their eyes, but there was something else, something much more dangerous, inmidst those beams of light—another, invisible beam, a force echoing through the entire vehicle.

Just then, Bradley noticed some sort of sound—music or a speech—echoing through the entire car as well. He couldn't understand a word; he just felt a rhythm invading his mind.

"What is that?" He growled, still breathing so fast.

In response, Phillips let out a low moan, with his voice so rough.

The car was rocking slightly, something neither officer had experienced before.

Bradley closed his eyes, all of him focusing, trying so hard to get control, to move, to get out of this car, yet something was stopping him—something now crawling into his mind.

Images appeared—so many different, weird images: men on their knees, men made to serve, men made to obey.

It struck something deep inside him: the sound, the rhythm, that blinding light—all of it was putting so much pressure on his body and mind.

As waves of electricity pulsated through every fiber and every bone of his body, his muscles were the first to react.

Bradley's body grew hard; his muscles bulged against the fabric of his uniform, causing his vest to act as more of a restraint than actual protection.

Unaware, he was now stroking himself, running a hand across his chest firmly through his vest and uniform shirt while trying to calm himself down and steady his breaths.

"Fuck." He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked through the rear-view mirror once more.

Shocked, he saw both rookies doing the same, but even more: Phillips and Miller were leaning back against the seats, stroking their own chests with both of their hands. Their faces were plagued by pain and pleasure, with their expressions shifting rapidly. 

Both officers let out low moans as their bodies slowly reacted to their strokes. Their bodies moved in sync with the strokes and sensual movements.

Bradley himself intensified his strokes, feeling all of his muscles tense more and more.

As much as it was terrifying, something deep inside him found this alluring, but that wasn't him. It was a thought planted in him by that invisible, indoctrinating force.

"What is happening?" He cried out before a low groan escaped his lips. Barely able to move, he turned his head to see Johnson already one step ahead.

His partner's face looked pain-ridden, looking right into the bright light. He was stroking himself firmly beneath his vest, feeling himself, and touching himself so lovingly.

Bradley didn't understand what was happening to them, but his body was oddly into it. He could tell his member was hard already. Either due to the sight of the other officers or the pressure put on his body, he couldn't tell.

Just then, when he turned his face back into the light, his head grew so heavy. It was burning his eyes and, at the same time, invading his mind.

Panting, he struggled to keep his eyes open while his mind was flooded with more images and more thoughts of simple obedience.

This time, however, he saw himself as the obedient one. He was down on his knees, right next to this man he only knew as "sir". 

He was wearing a similar uniform, but his hands were cuffed behind his back. It was tight—it hurt a little—but he didn't mind. The man touched him lovingly—his cheeks, neck, and down to his thick chest—and it felt so good.

At the same time, one of his hands ran down his chest, right to his thighs, and between his legs. Bradley was growing so hard and so fast, and a sudden warmth began to engulf his chest.

Like a flower, it bloomed inside his chest and spread rapidly. His whole upper body tingled, and his breathing got out of control. Bradley moaned in ecstacy, leaning his head back once more.

His eyes rolled back into his head, turning white, while the tingling sensation flowed through him—into his arms, hands, and even into his fingertips. They felt numb, yet he experienced so much pressure and pleasure—his clothes were restraining him, however.

He tried to tear his clothes apart as all of his muscles grew bigger and harder, straining the fabric of his now-tight uniform.

Bradley was struggling to keep a sane mind; it was surreal. He managed to steady his head, but his eyes were so heavy.

Unable to speak, more moans escaped his lips, and when his eyes fell on those two rookies again, he groaned.

The young officers were experiencing the exact same thing. Both of them were touching themselves firmly through their uniforms. Their dicks were tenting visibly, with Phillips already staining his clothes either with his sweat or his cum.

They moaned and thrusted a few times, experiencing pure pleasure. Their eyes too rolled back a few times as their rough and husky voices filled the air all around them.

This encouraged Bradley to touch himself through his pants as well. His cock was larger than ever before—it was pressing against his pants, visibly even through his underwear and uniform—and he felt all of him growing even harder by the second.

Bradley was sweating heavily now as the air all around him grew even thicker, filled with the moans and groans of the other officers. The smell was even worse; all men were sweaty already, yet this was different. As some were leaking, it's smell mixed with the other bodily fluids.

Bradley closed his eyes, trying his best to block these thoughts, smells, and noises, but all he saw were more images of him being a mere plaything.

The man was demanding more, so his body flexed hard. He did everything to please him. And the same command entered his mind over and over again.

"Obey."

Part of him wanted to obey, to give in, yet he had to push it back to regain control over himself again.

Fighting back, shaking his head, and trying to thrash around, Bradley turned to Johnson, who was looking at him as well. Both men were touching themselves and their cocks firmly, but they tried hard to stay focused.

Johnson was looking for help—a release—but neither of them could move even an inch. They were struggling so hard but failed. Whatever was happening shouldn't be happening, was all they could think.

But the now-comforting warmth kept spreading into every corner of their bodies, making it so much harder to not just give in. Their minds were invaded once again—even more images of simple, blissful obedience.

Bradley steadied himself against the seat, one hand firmly grabbing his own cock, the other on his chest, stroking himself lovingly.

The warmth entered his thighs and legs and flowed into his toes, causing the numbing, tingling sensation to become more intense. His body moved on its own, spreading his legs to make more space for his large member and his hands running along its ever-growing shaft.

For one last time, he looked into the rear-view mirror.

In horror, he saw both officers giving in to this phenomenal feeling; Phillips and Miller were touching each other, stroking each other's chests firmly. Their gazes were empty, just looking straight ahead, while their expressions kept shifting—pain and pleasure—again and again.

He watched their hands encompass each other's bodies: chests, thighs, necks, biceps, and pecs. All while they growled, moaned, and groaned in unison.

Holding back a painful moan, he suddenly felt a hand on his chest—his partner's hand. Johnson started to stroke him gently.

"What are you?" Bradley turned his face to look at the other officer, who was looking into the bright light, his face red yet unbothered.

He tried to fight back, but something deep inside him was enjoying this. "Don't," he begged, but Johnson didn't reply; however, he moaned instead, still looking right into the light.

This sparked something inside Bradley's chest: the urge to be touched and be fondled with by another man. He saw the images again—how good it felt to be touched like that, to be obedient.

"Fuuck." He moaned deeply, loving the firm hand touching him, stroking him, and playing with his nipples through the thin fabric of his uniform.

Instinctively, he reached out as well, and once his fingertips touched Johnson's chest, his dick grew even harder.

He never thought of touching a man like that before, especially his partner or any other officer, but it just felt so good.

Bradley loved how this man's body reacted to the simplest touch—how hard his muscles and tight his clothes were.

He turned his face into the light and acted simply on command.

Both officers were touching each other, feeling each other, and enjoying each other's bodies.

It felt like the tingling sensation was following their every move as their bodies shifted slightly.

The officers eyes were unfocused; now vacant, all of them stared into the light when a single thought flooded their minds.

"Obey. Cum and obey. Cum and obey."

Simultaneously, the four men reached down for each other's rock-hard cocks, stroking them through their pants at first.

Sweating, they started to drool heavily as more and more moans escaped their lips.

One by one, they struggled to unbutton their uniform pants, but after a few failed attempts, they succeeded.

As Johnson pulled out Bradley's wet, hard cock, he instantly started to play with it. All the others did the same, wrapping their hands around each other's dicks and moving their hands up and down their lengths.

It just felt so good to be touched like that, causing them to let out satisfied groans.

Bradley bit his lower lip, holding back, yet his low guttural growl echoed through the car, followed by similar noises from the others.

While their cocks were being fondled with, they stroked their own chests again, and the tingling feeling entered their necks and minds.

All of them grew weaker, yet their strokes became firmer.

Their hands moved to an unseen and unheard rhythm, and all four cops were edging already.

It wouldn't take long for them to fulfill their duty.

"Serve. Cum and obey."

Miller's cock was the first to give in to the pressure. He shot load after load, covering not only Phillip's hands but their clothes with his precious, hot cum.

His moans filled the air, followed by Johnson, then Phillips. All of them were cumming simultaneously, and the smell of cum and sweat was undeniable.

With one final stroke, Bradley gave in to that tingling as well. As his cock erupted, his mind was drained of everything.

He couldn't think or speak; he just moaned again and again.

Bradley's beautiful eyes were vacant, unfocused, and dull, just like the others'.

With every load and every ounce of cum leaving their bodies, more and more of their will, their resilience, and their minds were drained. Replaced with only one thought.

Obedience.

They sat there for what felt like hours, but it was mere minutes.

The light turned off, and several shadowy figures approached the vehicle. They watched through the windows and found four cops—mere empty husks, empty and ready for further programming.

Their clothes were stained with sweat, cum, as they kept drooling as well.

The doors opened, and a young man, seemingly enjoying this sight very much, smirked.

"The first stage is complete." He said that and reached for Officer Bradley's chest, touching him and stroking him firmly, but the cop didn't react.

"Good boys." The man patted his chest and looked at four other men doing the same.

"Take them for further experiments." The man took a step back.

"Yes, sir." 

He watched four bulky men dressed in black leather pull those four cops out of the car—a sight to behold.

Their dicks were hanging out of their pants; all of them were covered in sweat and cum—a debilitating smell. Their eyes were empty, and even though they were thick, muscular men, they didn't fight back.

The officers were carried toward the other vehicle and out into the back.

With one last smile, the young man looked at them before closing the back doors.

[konigs-left-pec]

- crush -

ᴬ/ᴺ: ᴹᵒʳᵉ ᴳʰᵒˢᵗ ˣ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵐᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ. ᴼᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ 18+. ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ˢᵉᵐⁱ⁻ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ ᵈʳʸ ʰᵘᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ. ᴱⁿʲᵒʸ, ᵇᵃᵇᵉˢ! ❤️💀❤️

"So when are you and LT gonna, y'know..." Soap jabbed you teasingly in the ribs, eyebrows waggling suggestively as he crudely mimed a sex act. You socked him in the shoulder and pushed him into the wall before he could gesticulate more.

"Shut the fuck up, Soap." He cackles at that, rubbing his shoulder as he bounces up beside you. Your words held no malice, but you didn't need the Scot's help stirring up trouble. You'd done well enough on your own. The entire base knew. You and Ghost had been dancing around each other for months; brief, stolen glances full of longing and inside jokes in the caf had quickly morphed into heavy flirting and lingering touches in the sparring ring.

What was misery before was absolute torture now as you had to sit next to Ghost every day for the last week and a half, knees practically touching while you basked in the heat pouring off of him. He smells fucking fantastic, something woodsy and metallic and you briefly wonder if it's him or all the pheromones you're swimming in. You didn't know and you didn't care. Price's meetings kept dragging on, requiring you and the rest of the 141 to meet daily to review any slight trickle of intel, most of it fruitless, but it meant you got to see him.

"Just try to pay attention today, lass." Soap breezed past you to claim his assigned seat, "Cap's starting t'notice those puppy dog eyes."

You freeze in the doorway when you see Ghost already sitting where you expected, long legs spread wide and arms crossed over his chest. He tilts his head in your direction, gaze darkening noticeably and suddenly you feel like you're pinned to the wall with one of his knives. You rush to take your seat beside him awkwardly, a shaky breath leaving you when you realized everyone had been waiting on you.

"Intel... mumblemumble...terrorist... mustache...guns goats...mumble... mountains..."

The Captain was sure to rip into you later for not paying adequate attention. Every few moments as he'd round the massive conference table, his stern gaze would land on you while you fiddled with the zip on your flak vest, tapped your pen against your pad, looked anywhere but his disappointed, mutton chopped face.

"Knock it off." whispered Ghost beside you, eyes locked on the Captain as he passed in front of you both.

"We literally went over this yesterday." you hissed back heatedly, tugging your vest down for the umpteenth time and slipping down further in your seat.

From this angle you could clearly see Ghost's fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh, intermittently stopping to bother at his tactical holster. "You're going to piss 'im off." he muttered matter-of-factly, too much of a professional to even glance at you.

It gave you a terrible idea.

You could feel him glaring at you from his peripherals with warranted suspicion as you scooted a bit closer. Your chair scraped obnoxiously against the linoleum and earned you a weary sigh from Price, his back still turned as he chose to ignore your shenanigans in favor of getting through the final part of his briefing.

Biting your lip, you slipped your hand alongside Ghost's, fingers touching atop his sturdy thigh. You could feel his muscles tense as you traced the edge of the holster teasingly with one finger before dipping beneath it to glide over the rough material of his tac pants.

"Ghost." Price called from across the room, causing him to straighten even more in preparation to respond, "What are your thoughts on-"

Your hand was already moving before Ghost could even open his mouth. You weren't listening to anything they said, too focused on how powerful his thigh felt beneath your palm. You had to hand it to him - you were dragging your nails up and down, sketching lazy shapes with your fingertips and he hadn't even batted an eye.

Until you trailed your hand higher, rubbing your little finger firmly against the seam of his crotch.

The way his breath hitched made you feel dirty, euphoric; the Captain was still stooped over near Soap and Gaz reviewing tactical data and thank God for that because you couldn't stop yourself. You squeezed him gently through his pants, smothering the moan threatening to escape you at how hard he was already, his thick cock throbbing in your tight grip.

You smirked when, instead of pushing you off like any sane person would do, he placed his hand over yours and pushed his hips into the delicious pressure it created. Of course he would like this.

"Y/n, did you finish looking into that intelligence we received from Azar?"

You noticeably jolted upright in your seat. The Captain was staring expectantly at you, but your eyes were drawn to Soap who was leaning over behind Price, face alight with exaggerated disbelief as he mouthed unbelievable at you. You looked back at Price who couldn't have looked more displeased if you started belching God Save the Queen.

"I...uhm..." Ghost's hand was still pressed firmly over yours, cock distractingly hard and hot beneath your hands, "it's still in process, sir. My report should be ready by tomorrow morning."

Your superior seemed to accept your answer, if you could even call it acceptance. He let out another long suffering sigh, thin lips pressed tightly together in a deep frown as he pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly waving everyone out with a tired "dismissed." The team filed out uneventfully, with Soap being last to depart, staring at you with comically wide eyes and decidedly goofy double thumbs up. Ghost is as silent as the grave beside you, having released your hand when the meeting adjourned. The soft click of the door closing is deafening and for the first time you're fearful that you've crossed a line.

He's laughing to himself as you both stand, the sound sandpaper rough and creeping along your spine like a physical touch. You stretch your back a bit attempting to disguise the heat that rushes through you at the gravel in his voice, but truth be told your panties have been soaked since you decided to touch him. Quickly and decisively he crowds you against the table, palms planted solidly beside your hips so he can lean in close, breath tickling your ear and causing another shudder to roll through you.

"You really think you're going to finish that report tonight, yeah?" He husks meanly in your ear, cheek to cheek and it's all you can do to not tremble again as the vibration bolts through you. You have to close your eyes. Has he always been this much taller than you? You crane your neck, leaning back a little just to breathe and escape the heat radiating from him as he invades more of your space. He's so impressively massive and you don't waste the opportunity to map him up close, hands smoothing over broad shoulders and down the front of his chest. He clears his throat and you refocus; there's something mischievous in his dark brown eyes and you know he's smirking under that mask.

"Yeah, I do." You whisper, trying to keep your voice steady while you're practically sharing the same air, the undeniable arousal still tenting his pants pressing urgently against your belly. He's staring at you with heavily lidded eyes, following the play of your face, the way you're lingering on where is mouth should be under the mask, soft lips parted invitingly.

You don't know when he removed his gloves but suddenly his bare thumb is at your bottom lip, flattening the flesh, making it feel like you're guzzling air through a straw. A question. You yield immediately, taking the digit into your mouth and sucking, tongue slicking up the sides, tasting the ridges of his fingerprint faint with metal and gunpowder.

His reaction is visceral, lighting a fire in your belly when he hisses, eyes snapping shut as he leans further into you, the game you both have been playing for months finally breaking. He yanks up his balaclava with his free hand and then he's on you, teeth knocking with the intensity of the kiss as he groans into your mouth, maneuvering you to sit on the edge of the table so he can move freely between your legs. His other hand is wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping you pinned to his mouth until he finally speaks against your lips.

"Wait, not here-" he strains out roughly once he can pull away from you, followed by a desperate stop when your hand twists up, clutching the fabric at the back of his neck to pull the mask higher over his nose allowing you to resume licking hungrily into his mouth.

"Not here..." He says coolly like you both weren't just dry humping in the conference room. He's breathless; he's never breathless. You can't wait to take him apart. "Gonna do this right, yeah? Come see me tonight, lovie."

[qsycomplainsalot]

Reseda green 1911 uniform

Sauce: RosalieLebel75.franceserv.com; lesfrancaisaverdun-1916.fr

First row : Modified reseda uniform c.1913 Second row : Reseda uniform concepts c.1910-11 Third Row : Reseda troop helmet and officer jacket made c.1911

Much like her adoption of a modern service rifle, the modification of France’s colorful uniform was started barely a few years before the start of World War 1, at a time when no change could have effectively been made before the start of the conflict. It's a time-honored tradition, where hindsight is 20/20 and rifles are 7/92.

Several modernisation projects ran concurrently between the years 1910 and 1914, but not all of them were quite as modern as they were claimed. For every Boer-inspired practical field dress, the state would bring in famed illustrators and painters like Edouard Detaille, whose practical considerations were vastly outweighed by the necessity to preserve bright red pants because "otherwise how the f*ck do you know who you be shooting at" [sic]. The most promising upgrade though was probably the so-called Tenue Reseda.

Edouard Detaille's new uniform proposal, featuring an early shade of the lighter blue used from 1915 to 1935.

Commissioned by French war minister Maurice Berteaux and designed by a team led by général Dubail, the reseda green uniform was one of the aforementioned several proposed reforms meant to provide better camouflage to soldiers. It was made up almost in its entirety of a verdigris cloth, using a pigment from the reseda plant. Rank and file soldiers were also equipped with a cork/pith helmet fitted with a removable brass comb/crest piece, meant not to protect about shell fragments but rather saber blows. This last and very ostentatious part was replaced in the field with a simple cockade. Cavalry units would retain their old armor pieces save a few light cavalry helmet models, and artillery crews were equipped with Edouard Detaille’s Mle1902 helmet. This was an overall satisfying design to a modern eye, but decidedly less so to Berteaux’s colleagues at the time. The design was bashed for being unsightly, unpatriotic and looking too much like the German feldgrau uniform, with many arguing that all the modernization French soldiers needed was putties and a cap cover. The project received its biggest blow when Berteaux got ran over by a biplane, as one does, and his successor Messimy did not back it to the same extent. The new minister otherwise noted the “experience [to be] conclusive on a tactical level, and I considered it beyond reproach”, and even later about the madder red pants that remained in service: “this blind and imbecile attachment to the most conspicuous of colors would have cruel consequences.” The reseda uniform would see one last review in a slightly modified version developed between 1912 and 1913, now retaining the very French red pants and epaulettes for maximum patriotic efficiency. The helmet was also modified to resemble the future Adrian Mle1915 even more closely, with a fixed brass comb. Neither it nor the two Detaille uniforms it competed with managed to get adopted. Messimy, in final attempt at modesty, pushed for an odd allegedly blueish-bruised color competitor made up of a combination of red, white and blue wools. As the war erupted a month after this final decision, the design was never put into large production and French soldiers marched into Alsace wearing the same uniforms as when they first lost it.

1912 review of prototype uniforms, featuring from left to right Detaille’s horizon blue type, Dubail’s modified reseda green type and Detaille’s steel blue type.

[kozachenko]

I've crawled out of my cave after playing Final Fantasy IX for a long ass time what have I missed?

Artist's Notes:

I'M BACK BABY! A while back I made a post with a new style experimentation thingy but I ended up deleting it because it was just kind of a boring face thing, I was planning on doing more art but then I started playing Final Fantasy IX and uhhhh yeah so that game has kind of taken of my brain for the past two weeks and I am 20 hours into the game because I love it so much. I wanted to draw Vivi because Vivi is just really fun to draw ok? I've kinda been feeling really burnt out with my lineless style, mainly because of how hard it was to do lighting. I'll show one of my initial art style tests on the bottom of this post. Again, used to have it be an individual post but it was just one face so it was kinda boring, so might as well include with this one on the subject of art styles. I wanted to kinda mix some aspects of my older style with the sketchy shading lines with a more painterly way of doing the lighting (mainly in the shadows). All in all, I think that's my favourite part about this drawing, it feels nice to finally be able to do some proper lighting again, and I want to experiment even more with my lighting and rendering in future pieces. Also, part of the pant shading got kinda lost in the sketchiness, so for next time I'll probably focus on the clarity of the more sketchy parts of the drawing, since I did go with my initial sketch for the final drawing. I also gave up on the background since I had no idea what to do for it, and I didn't put too much detail into the staff as I forgot which one I gave him in my current playthrough and I didn't want to risk spoiling myself via looking up references, but that's ok I like how the singular yellow circle on it matches Vivi's eyes. Also I was having a bit of trouble figuring out how to draw his body and how to pose him, but I like how the pose turned out a lot. It was inspired by his idle animation when in a battle in game where he does a little shimmy.

Ok I need to talk about Vivi's design because I love it so fucking much oh my god-

I absolutely love how his face is just in complete shadow and only his eyes stand out, it's so cool and unique and I love how they recontextualized the original black mage design from the classic Final Fantasy games. How they did it I won't say because I don't wanna spoil the game, but someone give this poor baby a therapist because he goes through a lot. Actually, same can be said for all of the FFIX cast, they all need therapy (again, I won't spoil anything, please go play the game for yourself).

While I do love almost all the characters in the game, even though Vivi is most fun to draw, my favourite character has to be Zidane (the main protagonist of the game). He's a really fun protagonist, and they could have easily written him as a misogynistic jerk who doesn't respect women but they didn't, and I really appreciate that. He's just an overall cool dude who's a really nice older brother figure to Vivi and also just has a cool character design (who I also want to draw eventually). Initially in the game I was planning on grinding levels for Vivi to make him the tactical nuke of the party, but then that title went to a different character (who was initially multiple levels behind the group since I grinded the party in the starting area way to much before they joined, but now they are two levels ahead of everyone and have pulled the team through a lot of tough battles, again I won't say who it is because it is kind of a spoiler and the way the gameplay actually ties into their character arc is just so good omfg). Once I eventually finish the game I'll probably write a full review on here, so no spoilers until then lol

Also, I've kinda been burning out a bit with making Touhou art, which also made me a bit burnt out with Touhou stuff in general (although I will continue keeping up with the manga) so getting into other things (i.e. Final Fantasy and even Fallout since I've watched the first season of the TV show which is a whole other post for another day) has helped me refresh and given me something new to think about. I've ended up in the exact place I feared ending up, where I would start drawing fanart for it not because I wanted to but because I felt like I had to, so I'm taking a bit of a break. When I do draw Touhou fanart again I'll try to draw for the sake of myself, and to all the other artists and fanartists on this platform (and on any social media for that matter), take care of yourself and don't forget to take breaks when you need to!

(Ok part of that last paragraph was definitley influenced by the good ol' "it's 9:00pm and I need sleeb, but the message at the end still holds up, always take care of yourself)

Oh yeah, and here is that one style experiment I did btw

Man I really fell down the "Yoshitaka Amano art enjoyer" to "Final Fantasy fan" pipe line didn't I?

[creaking-skull]

it would be insane to implement this and you would have to design it from the ground up to accommodate but ive been mulling nonstop over a hypothetical pie-in-the-sky da4 where you could choose whether to play it with a rook or an inquisitor...

obviously here we have the keep integrated, and if we dont you get to plug in the keep choices as part of character creation instead of an actual import. how cool would it be to essentially get two stories in one-- rook, who doesnt really know varric beyond a year of chasing solas with him, versus the inq who was with him for the whole red lyrium debacle and potentially the death of hawke.

NPCs reacting completely differently to you, solas taking different tactics to manipulate you, quests playing out with more or less resources depending on the fate of the inquisition and potentially your own choices with alliances and factions in 3 (circle vs templars for one). rook getting the new guy treatment, a boon in some cases and a real kick in the pants in others.

the first warden completely hating you if you banished the wardens from orlais vs more tempered dislike if you allowed them to stay (you were involved, after all, in besieging adamant and the clarel thing)...

harding! man maybe her romance could actually include lines reflecting the mini romance in da3. maybe they drifted apart and get a chance to reconnect here.

like i said this would be an insane way to build a game and they never would have done it but i think it would be fascinatingly replayable... no idea if it would be good, i can already imagine the baffled reviews on polygon and the like, but it would compel me. craft a new hero like you have in every game before, or bring that poor da3 fool back into the ring for another deathmatch with solas

i kind of love the tragic 'trapped in a play' air the inq almost has. not as textually as hawke but the feeling is there. an actor in a scene... which i guess is part and parcel of being in a video game lmao. but i love plays so it always grabs me by the shirt

[bronx-bomber87]

Mid Week Review. Was able to watch the ep last night and jot down my thoughts. After this one only have 5 left in S1. Wild. Off we go.

1x15 Manhunt

The cold open is too funny. The "commercial" is hilarious LOL Poor Lucy struggled the most in it with her lines. They all find out they were pranked and it wasn't real. Lucy looking back and getting that reaction from Tim. I am dying haha Lucy is so embarrassed and slightly mortified. Not Tim he’s having a good time with this haha

Once again enjoying himself far too much at her displeasure hehe Who is this man? Not the Tim she had in very beginning that's for sure. Making jokes, being a goober, and laughing with the other T.O.'s having a grand old time. She really did this to herself ha I love it so much. I mean look at this man and his beautiful smile. He is having a blast and it shows. Truly a wonder to behold I gotta say.

Ep kicks off strong. There is a prison escape from a transport bus so Tim and Lucy are on the hunt. They round up one guy right away. Make quite the entrance saying there is only 6 left. I love this shot for the height difference between them. Always loved their tall/small thing. Makes me happy. I can't really explain why other than it does.

Afterwards they are assigned inside the search grid canvassing neighborhoods and such. Telling people who are out to stay indoors for now. They run into a little neighborhood militia not long after. They say they’re defending their neighborhood. The body language they both give to these dopes LOL. It's too damn good. If they could eye roll any harder with how they react to them they would haha These idiots try and do a citizens arrest for a gardener. Tim and Lucy both lay into them like a tag team. Getting them to back off and beat it. So fun to watch honestly.

Tim ends it with telling them if they see them out again they’ll get arrested. Cracks me up Lucy calls him on what the codes he used to scare them. She just can't help herself. Tim making jokes and being a sassy pants with her I adore it. Her little smile at him when he says ‘They don’t know that.’ it’s a theme in this one for Lucy. Just looking at Tim with smiles/heart eyes. I’m here for it.

Feds are involved much to Tim's dismay. Using their tactics to locate the remaining escaped prisoners. Everyone splits off after their debrief with them. Lucy and Tim go back to station to meet up with an informant of Tim’s. Says he'll know about one of the escaped convicts. Used to be in the gang the 54 who this prisoner is currently affiliated with. As they're walking up to meet his informant Lucy is asking about predictive analytics. It was brought up earlier in their meeting and Tim disagreed with its method.

So of course Lucy is going to probe more about it. Tim explains how it’s not as good as hitting the streets. That Feds rather use a computer than scuff their loafers. He’s so passionate about what he does and how he does things in patrol. Just look at her face above while he’s explaining why his way better than the fed's computer. She knows it’s something he’ll fiercely defend. Something he takes seriously and a little personally.

It’s why when Lucy tries to play devils advocate on the subject he asks her who’s side she’s on? Clearly not pleased with her defending this computer vs what he considers real police work. Lucy has learned where to pick her battles with Tim. She knows when to push something and when not to. This was not one of them. Lucy is adorable and says she didn’t know there were sides...but she’s on his definitely his LOL damn they cute.

Lucy instantly likes Deacon because he’s apart of Tim’s past. Something she has very little insight into other than Isabel. So she’s all over it when Deacon tells her he knew Tim when he was a rookie. Tim isn't loving this conversation. Its like the sign at the zoo. 'Don't feed the animals.' How Tim is feeling with this interaction haha He's putting up a sign says 'Don't feed Lucy details.' haha Deacon tells Tim that he likes her. Tim rolls his eyes and says he’s ‘Thrilled.’ You know you are sir. He’s proud of Lucy and the fact she's his rookie. Don't lie Timothy. Deacon continues by saying every time he see's Tim it's like a time machine for him.

I do adore Tim’s reaction when Deacon says only thing that's changed is the lines on his face. He's slightly offended by this. I love the way he looks at Lucy. Like checking in she still thinks he’s a handsome man. It’s ok love, you very much are. Just look at the heart eyes she’s giving you. Case and point above and below.

Also Lucy, girl you are at work. Put those things away madam haha She’s as transparent as glass and makes my heart happy. If her goal is to hide her attraction/admiration she is failing pretty hard lmao Like an open book this one. I do think she is really enjoying this guy razzing him so much. Just like Tim at the beginning of the episode she is relishing in his discomfort. What a pair these two.

Tim has a small talk with Angela before they leave. Asking if he’s changed at all since she’s met him. He's clearly more shaken up from his convo with Deacon then he originally lead on. Angela makes a crack and says he’s gotten more annoying. Ha poor Tim. He asks her to be more serious. She replies the Isabel situation changed him. He asks her if its for the better or not? Breaks my heart he doesn’t see the changes in himself. But he is seeing/sensing he needs to change something up though. Angela's reply to this all is the best part. This line right here is my fav of the scene.

Since he met Lucy Chen, Angela. Ever since he met her. Does things he never did before. Like this introspection. Before he would've shrugged that convo off. Buried it deep inside like he did everything else before. Put it in a little box never to be opened again. With her influence in his life he takes that convo little more to heart. Tim has no idea the amount he’s changed just from knowing her. The small things that if you’re not paying attention you’d miss. S1 has been incredible growth for his character.

I do love Angela's last shot at him as Tim and Lucy are leaving. That sweet little smile he gives when he hears Angela’s reply. I’ve always loved their friendship. She truly is one of his best friends. This scene is a good display of that. Of them being close. Being serious when needed but mainly giving each other shit haha Lucy looks confused but not unhappy he’s happy.

Tim and Lucy arrive at the house of Tim's informant. He’s currently protecting the prisoner they talked about. Unfortunately the gang he’s pissed off is waiting for them upon arrival. Nolan’s situation with his fugitive has taken most of their resources. So it’s just them against a whole gang to protect his informant and the prisoner. Lucy starts to get nervous when the gang begins wrecking their shop. Tim makes a joke it'll be a lot of paperwork for her. Lucy doesn't bite at the joke. You can see how nervous she is. She asks if at some point they give the 54 what they want. Weighing one life against the lives of many. Do they need to make that hard call?

Tim's reply is excellent. That strong sense of justice shining through in this moment. He can see Lucy isn't comfortable with their odds at all. Has to remind her like he did back in 1x11. That this is their job. What they signed up for. He's doing what he does best with her. Being her pillar while also injecting logic into the scenario they are currently in. He can sense her unease and is trying to alleviate it.

What I love most about this scene is Tim’s moral compass and bravery. It’s something Lucy most definitely likes as well. Also what she needs at this point in time. She's in awe of him when she says You’re willing to die for that guy? It’s in her inflection. She’s so impressed he would be willing to lay down his life for him. His reply to her cements this even further. The way he delivers his line. Phew lord. I think Lucy just fell a little more in love with him right here. She already been giving him heart eyes all day. This increased them ten fold. The way he stands up and lets Lucy see that confidence. How he refuses to let the 54 shake his resolve. He won’t let fear dictate what he knows is right.

The awe struck wonder in her eyes for him. My goodness. Earlier Angela brought up how Tim has grown since Isabel. This is further proof of that. He won’t ever allow fear to let him do something he would be ashamed of in the light of day. Amazing how much he's grown since that moment in 1x07. When his moral compass is on fire like it is right now, I think Lucy’s respect/admiration (and honestly her attraction) grows the most for Tim.

She’s getting a peak into Tim at his core. Who he is as a person. You can tell she very much likes what she sees. Nothing more attractive than a man with a plan and strong in his convictions IMO. Also who is confident in what he’s doing. Lucy needs to see that right now as she is rattled by the uneven numbers in their situation.

Deacon decides to go out and talk to them. They start to beat him up. Tim tells Lucy to stay inside. To protect their prisoner at all costs no matter what happens to him. Tim goes out to reason with the gang. To take the heat off Deacon and onto himself. Eventually the calvary shows up for them. Tim gets to look like a bad ass when they do. The way he says he’s never alone or out numbered. *fans self* always love me some confident Tim. I’ll take that all damn day.

This look between them speaks volumes. It shows the trust and bond that’s been built between them. She was worried and rightfully so but he kept her calm. He was steadfast for them both and she trusted in that. Leaned on him. She knew he would get them out of this situation and he did. That nod of his is Tim’s way of acknowledging all that. Thanking her for trusting him. That beautiful unspoken connection is on full display in this moment. Lucy is beaming from that nod. I love them so much. The ep ends for them there as far as scenes together go.

Tim's final scene is in Grey's office. That introspection Tim does leads him to decide to go for Sergeant. Says he's ready to take that next step. Grey asks what took him so long haha Lets him know it's going to require a lot of studying to prep. I LOVE this. We all know what moment this leads to. The impact Lucy has on his life is so immense. Lead him down this path. Makes me happy.

Always thank you all for your likes/comments/reblogs. These reviews are so fun for me to do. Even more so knowing others are enjoying it as well. See you all in 1x16 :)

[eldritch-spouse]

Wouldn't it be funny if Pinter had an actual assistant that is teasing him without meaning to.

You don't owe him money and are just doing your job with helping his schedule, but sometimes you just do something so sexy it drives the slime mad.

Oblivious little you doesn't notice how hard Pinter stares at your ass when you go pick something up from the floor.

It takes a while before Pinter realizes you're just a dumb slut.

At first, he thinks better of you, assumes it's a little tactic to get close to him, learn info you're not meant to access. After a couple of tests in which Pinter leaves a couple of important shelves open, only to find them entirely untouched and no incriminating footage in the security camera recordings, he's a tad confused. Maybe whatever you wanted was already swiped and he looked into things a tad too late. But Pinter swears everything's in place!

Then, he thinks it's a cheap trick to get a raise. And he's terribly unamused, not giving into the cute little stretch-yawns you make, or the way you'll push your ass out as you search for something that fell onto the carpet. But God, do you have to be such a fucking cocktease? You never mention your salary either, maybe you're playing the long game... Think you'll crack his resolve, eh? Think again. (You will.)

It's only after the slime makes a couple of subtle passes at you, which get no reaction, that he realizes you're just too hot for your own dumb ass. Pinter actually laughs to himself when he realizes this. Endless time spent trying to sus you out, gather dirt on you, and apparently- You're just a ditzy little doll.

The slime is now a lot more open about his fantasies. Pinter has no shame and knows no one will do shit when he walks past you and cups your ass through your work skirt hard enough to make you yelp and stand on your toes. He puts his hand on the small of your back, intentionally messes your outfit up and makes you sit on your lap when you're handing him reports, reviewing them right then and there.

You should dread the day he calls you into his office with a flushed face, his belt unfastened and something pushing at his pants.

[fallenwhumpee]

Traitor

• Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Masterlist •

Warnings: Dysfunctional family.

Later that day, the team was given another mission. They gathered around the dining table as always, with all seats covered— Leader was absent, but Villain was sitting on their place, earning subtle glances.

"Leader should be present in the meeting," Youngest protested. "One of us should get them."

Approving whispers started, but Right Hand straightened, gathering the attention. "I don't think that's a good idea, they seemed—"

"Don't bother. What's the meeting about?"

Leader cut in, the tired look from the previous night gone. They were dressed in basic cargo pants and a shirt, their hair combed. Everything was in order, as always. They looked collected, and they almost succeeded in fooling Right Hand. But Right Hand could see the slightly unfocused eyes, and their posture was just a little slumped. Or Right Hand was too focused and making it all up from their head after seeing Leader down at night.

"We were just reviewing our last mission," Medic emphasised our, since Leader had just disappeared that night and left the team on its own to deal with two missions, but Leader looked like it was not their problem.

That was the reason for the surprised looks on the table. They expected an apology. Maybe an attempt to make it up. Little nice words Leader used sparely but in place. Or maybe just a how are you since they just went for one of the bigger bases straight when the agency decided to take out Whumper's forces. But Leader just sat there, looking at the plans briefly before drawing a basic plan to an empty paper and leaning back with a light cough.

Everyone kept staring at them, but Leader didn't react. When the silence became intolerable, they answered with the same attitude. "And?"

"And we are talking about the next one. We need a solid plan," Youngest snarled with the same tone. "We would appreciate some help."

"I think," Leader straightened, holding their breath for a moment before realising it with a wheeze sounding like huff, "you know how to do it. I'm just here because I have to be present." They turned to Villain. "You'll be staying here. I still couldn't find a safe house, but this is the safest place you can be."

Right Hand didn't like the idea of Villain being alone at their home. Despite telling Youngest to get on well with them, Right Hand just couldn't look past of what had happened.

"And I will be staying with you just in case."

"What?!" They gasped collectively.

"You can't just leave us alone in the field again," Teammate shouted.

"You expect us—" Youngest started, but Leader didn't let them finish the sentence.

"Now you want me in the field," Leader huffed. "For what? I'm there to lead, but you will do as you want anyway. You only need me for the tactics you don't even listen to. I will put my own plan into the report to shake the agency off your collar. Satisfied?" they asked flatly.

Right Hand sucked a deep breath, letting the words sink and sting. The words were heavy enough without a tone, and Right Hand couldn't think about the crushing weight it would have if Leader had spat every word.

"I will leave this to you. I don't have the patience to deal with any of your moods today."

"But—"

"Enough. You will be on your own. Now get prepared, because I won't make an excuse for your absence this time," Leader barked, leaving the table. No one had expected this outburst, and actually hearing Leader raise their voice was unexpected.

With maddening silence, Righ Hand stood up, the noise of the chair cutting through the tension like a knife.

"You heard that; get ready. We will be meeting with the backup in half an hour for the briefing."

With mumbles, the team disbanded, leaving only Right Hand and Villain on the table. They gave Villain a stern look before rushing after Leader.

They reached their superior's door in mere seconds, but muffled coughs and wheezes made them reconsider. It was unusual for Right Hand to have second thoughts about something. They would make up their minds and just do it. They didn't hesitate. And it often helped them reach an end, good or bad.

They knocked on the door.

"Leader?"

Right Hand cursed. They sounded so unsure. Almost shy.

"I said enough, what's so hard about it that everyone fails to understand?"

Right Hand stopped. Maybe it was right to have second thoughts. Leader didn't get angry. Not if the topic was defending someone else. They would just let the team run over them. They had never uttered a word as Right Hand threw up their anger, or never once scoffed when Youngest wanted to be spoiled. Never turned down Teammate's wish for new gear— despite having working ones, never once put a stop to Medic's wish to stop the training or decline missions, even if it was just over a bruised arm.

And they never did more than just talking in a stern tone.

So, that snarl was enough to freeze Right Hand.

They stood there for a while, trying to decide what to do.

"What about you just go away?" Leader shouted as they opened the door. Right Hand didn't know how Leader guessed that they were still there, but they couldn't ask when Leader was towering them.

The dishevelled look on Leader was foreign. Right Hand could see the red eyes now, with dark circles around their eyes and skin pale, shoulders slumped down.

"I—" Right Hand started, now knowing what to say.

"You," Leader growled, "will go and make sure the team doesn't fail. That's your role. Now leave me alone."

With a glare, Leader stepped back and shut the door.

-•-

Villain had been lost. They felt... they didn't know what they felt, but ever since Leader had given them an opportunity to get out of Whumper's base, they were feeling better.

They still felt like they were sitting on a ticking bomb with their family under the protection of the agency, but Villain knew it was mostly Whumper's biased antagonism of them. And the rest was what Villain had observed themselves.

They knew that as a wider entity, agency could do things that might just not be ethical. They actually didn't believe that the agency could get as brutal as Whumper anyway. But Villain thought they were safe because they were under Leader's protection, who held some strict ideas about how the things were supposed to go.

And they believed when Leader said their family was going to be safe.

Perhaps, Villain's trust was based on something else. Based on something awful Whumper - and to an extent, Villain - had done. Just thinking about it was enough to turn Villain a sobbing mess, but they had to hold themselves together. The team, thought slowly, was forgiving them. Even if Villain didn't think they deserved the mercy.

And they never asked for that forgiveness. They didn't deserve to ask. Even after everything Villain had done to the team, to Leader specifically behind the closed door of the 'interrogation' room, they were almost welcomed.

Now, sitting in their once enemy's living room, they felt alone. Alone with their own thoughts. And they didn't like where their thoughts were going.

Villain stood up, walking to Leader's door.

Villain hesitated outside, their hand hovering in the air. Despite their past, Leader had given Villain a chance, an opportunity to escape from Whumper.

Summoning the courage to knock, Villain rapped gently on the door, unsure of what response to expect. They half-expected Leader to shut them down, yet there was a flicker of hope that Leader would just help them again.

Because they desperately needed a saving again. This time from their own mind.

The door creaked open, revealing Leader's weary face. Red-rimmed eyes just stared at Villain, empty.

"Did something happen?" Leader asked softly. Villain had heard that tone often when one of the team had been injured by Whumper— or Villain. It carried the genuine concern Villain didn't deserve.

Villain swallowed hard, the lump in their throat making it difficult to speak. The sincerity in Leader's question was something they hadn't felt in ages.

"N-no," they stuttered. But they panicked when Leader attempted to close the door. "I... I wanted to talk. If you have a moment," Villain mumbled, avoiding eye contact. Leader's expression softened slightly, a hint of curiosity replacing the weariness momentarily.

"Look, I know I've done terrible things, and I don't expect you or anyone else to forgive me easily. But you gave me a chance, and I... I want to understand. Why? Why did you help me?" Villain admitted, their voice shaky. They just needed to hear it. Hear it to know it was real.

"You were protecting your family. And that is enough to deserve that chance. I couldn't stand to see another family crumbling."

Villain bowed their head. But the words haunted them. Another family. They wanted to ask that, but Leader stepped out of their room, motioning the other side of the corridor.

"This is best talked over a meal, I believe."

Leader's invitation caught Villain off guard. The suggestion of sharing a meal seemed almost normal, an everyday occurrence that opposed to everything.

Villain realised they hadn't eaten the lunch yet.

Leader prepared a basic meal, and Villain just watched them in silence. They couldn't bear to look at stiff and slow movements. It reminded too much of that time when the team was at their mercy— which they just didn't want to remember. The silence was only broken by Leader's occasional coughs and clatter or the tools.

Then they sat across each other, and Villain waited.

"When you have a family, you do everything for them," Leader started. "You endure. You live for them. You hope it gets you a good ending. And if I have the power to give you a good ending, I have to give you it, that's my responsibility as a human being."

Villain shrunk, playing with their food s little before swallowing harshly.

"And it's just the matter of time I get you and your family to a safe place, so don't worry. You will see them soon."

"I..." Villain breathed. "I don't want to see them."

Leader looked surprised for a moment before nodding them to continue.

"I don't think they will... approve what I did. It's better if I stay away."

"I understand," Leader said finally.

"How do you go on?" Villain asked, their voice cracking when they realised they overstepped. They tried to fix it. "I-I mean they don't—" They stopped themselves before they messed up further.

Leader looked to the plate they hadn't touched for a moment before turning to Villain.

"They don't see me as a family. But let me tell it in another way. If you went to your family, and they refused you, would you still love them?"

Villain didn't need to answer.

[harrowreads]

❥ Yoongi Fic Recs

❣ Each blurb gives a glimpse of the contents of each fic, but be sure to read the warnings before proceeding! ❣

Yoongi is my main bias + main obsession so plz don't perceive the length of this list, okay. It's going to be absolutely ridiculous.

❥ 12 Lays of Christmas: Day 2 by minisugakoobies | drabble, tumblr ↳ Gift wrapping with your boyfriend goes a little awry. ❣ Gender Non-Specified Reader ❣ smut, pwp | established relationship ↻ read my review

❥ All That Holly Jolly Sh*t by daechwitatamic | oneshot, tumblr ↳ You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you? ❣ Female Reader ❣ smut, fluff, angst | exes to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ Best Served Cold by anotherbtswriter | series, tumblr ↳ Yoongi shields his eyes from the flames. Smoke coats his throat, and he pants for breath. As he lies on the wet pavement, he realizes that this Molotov cocktail, this cheap-ass, dime-store intimidation tactic currently burning through his club, is a plan to intimidate him. First, he was annoyed. Now he’s pissed. ❣ Female Reader ❣ smut, fluff, angst | exes to lovers ↻ read my reviews: ch. 1, ch. 2, ch. 3, ch.4

❥ Blackthorn by sweetestofchaos | series, tumblr ↳ Min Yoongi, the last Emperor of the Joseon dynasty was betrothed to a foreign Princess from the time he could walk. The two exchanged many letters and gifts over the years as their love bloomed. Emperor Yoongi loved his Princess and it was on their wedding day that he was finally able to express his true feelings with his actions and not just his words. The love story of Emperor Yoongi and Empress Keena has been passed down from generation to generation; a love story so strong that it had surpassed the passage of time. Now a millennium later, the Emperor and Empress have been reborn at the same time…will history repeat itself or will the two become victims of the difficulties placed in their path? ❣ Female Reader ❣ smut, fluff, angst | strangers to lovers, arranged marriage au, soulmate au, fantasy ↻ read my reviews: ch. 1, ch. 2, ch. 3, ch. 4, ch. 5, ch. 6, ch. 7, ch. 8, ch. 9, ch. 10, ch. 11, ch. 12

❥ Cybersex by gimmethatagustd | oneshot, tumblr ↳ The whole point of being a phone sex hotline operator is that you’ll never have to meet your clients. So what are you supposed to do when you find out your favorite client is your brother’s best friend?  ❣ Female Reader ❣ smut, fluff, humor | brother's best friend, friends to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ Defrosting Ivy by moccahobi ↳  In a world where the 3 apex predators (humans, vampires, and werewolves) have been in a long standing power imbalance, Y/n is tasked with going undercover as a diplomat for the start of peace talks. What do they need to do? Find a talisman their organization has managed to identify as vital in resolving the conflict and ensuring the safety of all humans. ❣ Female Reader ❣ fluff, angst | supernatural au, enemies to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ Devil Town by park-jimin-isnt-real | series, tumblr ❥ Chapter 1: Somewhere Lost - the guide ↳ You wake up on a bench in a forest, with no memory before then or recollection of how you got there. The person greeting you gives you three options: going into the Great Unknown (to never be seen again), wandering the woods (until you become an Edelwood tree), or spending a month in Devil Town. ❣ Female Reader ❣ platonic, light angst | over the garden wall au, speculative ↻ read my review

❥ Drip by here2bbtstrash | oneshot, tumblr ↳ When Yoongi makes the bold statement that any girl can squirt, you decide to call him on his bluff. ❣ Female Reader ❣ smut, pwp | friends to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ F*ck Christmas by sailoryoons | oneshot, tumblr ↳ Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog. ❣ Female Reader ❣ fluff, smut, humor | friends to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ Good Fortune & A New Beginning by moonleeai | oneshot, tumblr ↳ Grumpy neighbor Yoongi is secretly a softie. ❣ Female Reader, 1st person ❣ fluff | strangers to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ If Walls Could Talk by btsrunmyiife | unfinished oneshot, tumblr ↳ You’re part of a web series of paranormal investigators that take cases from clients who believe their homes are haunted. While working in such close proximity, it’s only natural for some of you to gravitate toward one another – whether it be for stress relief or more. ❣ Female Reader ❣ smut | coworkers who fuck ❣ warnings: paranormal themes, mention of suicide ↻ read my review

❥ Invisible String by btsrunmyiife | series, tumblr ↳ Sometimes the hardest thing in life is letting yourself be seen. ❣ Female Reader ❣ queer, smut, fluff, angst | social media au, college au, strangers to friends to lovers ❣ warnings: topics of sexual assault & racial discrimination ↻ read my review

❥ Kick Up the Fire and Let the Flames Break Loose by ffion451 | series, tumblr ↳ Years after you gave up on him, Kim Taehyung appears back in your life: Are you the same person you were back then? Do you still love him? And why is it, with the supposed love of your life back, that you can’t stop thinking about the taciturn rapper who you has just come into your life? ❣ Female Reader | Feat. Taehyung ❣ smut, angst | friends to enemies to strangers to ?, strangers to friends to ? ↻ read my reviews: ch. 0, ch. 1

❥ Let Me by sailoryoons | oneshot, tumblr ↳ You’ve been friends with Yoongi for as long as you remember. When he tells you he’s never - and he means never - received oral in his life, you take it upon yourself to lend a mouth hand. ❣ Female Reader ❣ smut, pwp | friends to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ Nothing to Hide by gimmethatagustd | oneshot, tumblr ↳ It’s your boyfriend’s first Pride Month since coming out, and you’re determined to make sure he has the time of his life. ❣ Female Reader ❣ queer, smut, pwp | established relationship ↻ read my review

❥ Obsidian by sailoryooons | series, tumblr ↳ You remember everything. The first time you radiated at garnet, feeling the power of the jewel rushing through you. Remember the energy pulsing at your command. And you certainly remember the face of the man who ruined your life. Then there’s Min Yoongi, the Chaotic who is the key to your revenge.  ❣  angst, eventual smut | strangers to lovers, urban fantasy, crime syndicate ❣ warnings: graphic violence, morally grey characters ↻ read my reviews: ch. 0, ch. 1, ch. 2

❥ Please Linger by matchy6812 | series, tumblr ↳ After terrorizing the villagers with one too many pranks, you’ve been locked away in The Tower to atone for your petty crimes. As far as you know, The Tower is impenetrable. Nobody can get in, and nobody can get out. It seems you’ll never escape—until one night, a man named Yoongi barges in… ❣ Female Reader ❣ humor, slow burn, smut, angst | fantasy au, strangers to lovers ↻ read my reviews: ch. 1, ch. 2, ch. 3

❥ Right Here Right Now by hobidreams | oneshot, tumblr ↳ What if little red wants to be eaten by the big bag wolves? ❣ Female Reader | Feat. Hoseok & Namjoon ❣ group, smut, pwp, humor | werewolf au, college au, friends to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ Suga's How-To Guide: How to Tr(eat) Them Right by sailoryoons | oneshot, tumblr ↳ Min Yoongi has been a cam boy for a few years now. The work is easy, the money is good, and he has loyal viewers. When he approaches you and asks if you want to be his muse for a ‘how-to’ series, your view on the infamous Yoongi changes. ❣ Female Reader ❣ smut, pwp | friends to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ Taste by 7deadlysinsfics | drabble, tumblr ↳ Hoseok is in a sharing mood and his best friend is so, so thankful. ❣ Female Reader | Feat. Hoseok ❣ threesome, implied smut | established relationship, strangers to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ Taste So Sweet by btsrunmyiife | oneshot, tumblr ↳ Yoongi is helping you experience something new, something you’ve always wanted to try. All you wanted to do was kiss a girl. You should have known it would be so much more than you imagined.  ❣ Female Reader | Feat. Hwasa ❣ threesome, queer, pwp, smut | college au, established relationship + friends to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ The Earth, Your Butt, and Other Big...Flat Things? by matchy6812 | oneshot, tumblr ↳ When your world-famous boyfriend reveals himself to be an apparent flat earther, you decide to hold a modern exorcism—as in, you’re gonna try to fuck the stewpid out of him. ❣ Female Reader ❣ humor, smut, pwp | idol au, established relationship ↻ read my review

❥ Twirl for Me by gimmethatagustd | series, tumblr ↳ You’re perfectly content with admiring your ballet student’s father from afar, until he discovers the secret of your second job when he pays for a VIP room at the local strip club. What’s worse is your new knowledge of his secret life that won’t let you get him off your mind, no matter how awful it is. ❣ Female Reader | Feat. Jungkook ❣ smut, angst, slow burn | stripper au, strangers to lovers ↻ read my review

❥ Versus by minisugakoobies | series, tumblr ↳ Supervillain exes Yoongi and Hoseok are sick and tired of having their plans for world domination wrecked by you, aka Vitality, the world’s most powerful superhero. When fellow villain Jimin suggests a little competition to see who can bring you to your knees, they both eagerly accept. Now the battle is on as both men engage you in fight after fight to see who will conquer you first. Will you finally defeat these two, or will they destroy you - and possibly take each other out in the process? ❣ Female Reader | Feat. Hoseok ❣ smut, humor, fluff, angst | supervillain au, enemies to lovers ❣ warnings: some violence, use of weapons, fighting ↻ read my review

Yoongi x Reader as a side pairing:

❥ Business as Usual by blog-name-idk | series, tumblr ↳ The first thing Jin noticed about you was that you were hot. The second was that you were fucking brilliant. The third was that you were kind of a bitch. Basically, you were perfect. | The first thing you noticed about Jin was that he was hot. The second was the professors already called him by name. The third was that he was an insufferable prick. Basically, you hated his guts. ❣ Female Reader | Feat. Seokjin as main pairing ❣ smut, fluff, humor | college au, enemies to lovers ↻ read my reviews: masterlist, ch. 1, ch. 4

❥ The Love Witch by gimmethatagustd | oneshot, tumblr ↳ Despite being a popular romance blogger, Yoongi isn’t interested in finding love. He only summons a demon boyfriend to prove to his followers that it’s possible. He’ll send Taehyung right back to Hell once he’s done with him, obviously. ❣ Yoongi x Taehyung ❣ smut, fluff, humor, hint of angst | modern fantasy au, fake dating, strangers to lovers ↻ read my review

Namjoon | Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

[sonxofxgondor]

With the rise of the sun, so, too, does Boromir begin his day. A morning person, after a good stretch of the back and muscles, he starts with getting himself ready. A quick bath and scrub of the teeth - mint chewed thereafter - he allows the air around him to dry his wet locks, styled with only a wooden comb, his favorite tunic thrown overhead and pants tugged up his legs. Burgundy at the top, black at the bottom, boots to match. Once cleaned, Boromir retreats to the kitchen for breakfast.

Able to feed the entire army, from appearance alone, Boromir enjoys, often, a larger quantity. Prepared alongside the cook - an older woman who treats him more like a son than a steward-prince, does not mind his help nor scolds him for asking - eggs of three kinds are placed onto his breakfast plate. Scrambled, poached, and fried, served with toasted bread and strawberry jam, crispy potatoes and onions, seasoned with herb and spice, sliced fruit, apples and pears, salted pork, baked butter biscuits, and two links of sausage. Gobbled up as soon as it is made and served, after drinking down a cup of juice from an orange, onto his chores does Boromir go next.

Tactical training and combat exercise, Boromir is grateful for the life he is given, the responsibilities of a captain. Teaching the next generation of Gondor's finest men, he takes his role very seriously. Despite personality for fun, Boromir does not allow for the morning hours to be put to waste, especially when there is so much left to do. He trains and teaches. He speaks with his military counsel, conducts thorough check of weaponry, armor, and the health of those under his watch, and reviews defensive and offensive strategy and plan. Finishing on chores that have been assigned to him, too, by the orders of Denethor, Boromir, in the hours that still have not signaled late afternoon, goes to the people.

He talks to them, listens and shares. Hears their concerns and offers promises. Partakes in friendship and merriment, always a prince for the common people. He assists in the construction of new and fallen buildings, though he need not to. Hands dirty in the work, he shares stories with the children during their lesson times, teaches them safety and self-protection. The children so smart - Boromir knows that they are wonderful students and is proud - from the schoolyard does he move to the shopkeepers, eager to rest their woes. Financial and other, he tends to the struggling with compassion and deals with the corrupt with a just hand, firm and swift, punishment to be decided before fair trial.

Returned from the people, Boromir searches out his family. Finds Faramir and listens to his stories, the books he has opened upon his lap or the drama that involves his life, beneath the White Tree and sat on the lawn. Enjoys still the morning sun, up for hours by then but not bothered. Wonders where their father has gone, frowns when the door to Denethor's bedchamber is locked, mumbles behind the darkened wood and a near sob escaped. Boromir worried so, he does not linger, waiting for his father. He moves along; back to work to organize paper and royal decree, in his private chamber, the efforts of both he and Faramir for the sake of their kingdom. One half the brawn, the other the mind: the general and the diplomat.

An early bird by nature, Boromir finds rests when, too, the sun sinks beneath the horizon. Only to start again come the next day; the life of sunshine to his bedchamber window, ivory curtains bright.

[cieloclercs]

sliding doors , chapter three

pairing: joão félix x fem!oc                                                  part: 3/?                                                                                warnings: mentions of sex, otherwise just lots of fluff                                          word count: 8.5k

author’s note: hiiiii i’m so sorry this took so long! i hope the fluff makes up for it hehehe. also, i’m thinking of making a taglist for this story and maybe for punk tactics, so if you’d like to be on it just send me an ask!

SLIDING DOORS, “Seemingly inconsequential moments that nonetheless alter the trajectory of future events.”

03. in which joão takes esperanza out on their first date

previously: chapter two

read it on wattpad!

JOÃO COULDN'T REMEMBER the last time he'd been on a date. Not since her. He all but gave up on the idea of dating after that messy breakup, too torn apart by the way it had ended and how blind he had been to her infidelity to even consider trying again. His friends had tried to set him up with a couple of their significant others' acquaintances for a while, or encouraged him to try online dating, but it didn't take long until they too threw in the towel. Yet, within weeks of arriving alone in London, João had taken a step that not even his family had managed to get him to do, not in the years since his last relationship ended – he'd asked his pretty neighbour out for dinner.

João knew he liked her. He wasn't a teenager; he knew how to interpret the butterflies in his stomach when she smiled at him, and he knew exactly what they meant. Esperanza Cabrera had somehow managed to open up the part of himself he'd long since locked away, with only one serendipitous crossing of paths, an impromptu coffee date, and yesterday afternoon, when he'd decided to stop being a coward and just ask her out already. Three meetings. That was all it had taken. João felt the speed of it should have scared him, but he couldn't find it within his heart to fear anything involving Esperanza. She'd made too much of a mark on him already.

Mentally hyping himself up for their date would have been much easier if he had told any of his friends what was going on – (that's right, he hadn't). Not even his parents knew. João suspected his teammates may have caught on to his affections, or whatever they could be labelled as, for someone, at least, but apart from a brief mention of her name and how they had met, he'd given nothing away. As far as they were concerned, he was getting an early night; not drinking red wine in a fancy restaurant with the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

João grew more and more conscious of the time as he tried on his fourth shirt. He and Esperanza had agreed, over text message, that he would meet her outside her apartment at seven thirty exactly. His watch read ten past seven. He let out a frustrated sigh, throwing his hands down at his sides. Nothing looked right on him. In the past, he would have just thrown on the first shirt he saw, but João wanted to make a good impression. He wanted to at least try to look a match for Esperanza, in whatever she was wearing. His mind could have conjured up a thousand images of the woman that would greet him at her door in twenty minutes, dressed to the nines, but he knew none of them would compare to the real thing. João had caught her in fluffy pyjamas last time and had barely been able to string a sentence together – what would he be like when she was all made up?

Eventually, he settled on his first choice of shirt: a tight fitting black button-up, with the collar left open, showing a sliver of his tanned skin. A thin gold chain hung around his neck, contrasting the obsidian silk. Paired with his also black pants, João feared that it was perhaps a little too much black – but he didn't have time to fret over that. Besides, he'd received some glowing reviews of this particular shirt in his Instagram comments. He'd just have to trust the general public on this one, considering his usual second opinion was none the wiser to this date even happening. Now, João slightly regretted keeping so quiet about it.

He was sweating bullets.

"I can't do it – oh Dios mio." Esperanza Cabrera muttered weakly as she stood in front of her bathroom mirror. Her hair was curled into soft waves, falling around her shoulders, and she'd decided to be a little bit bolder with her makeup than usual: a hint of smoky eyeshadow, and a strong red lip that had taken her almost an hour to get right because of how much her hand was shaking. She thought she looked pretty – but when Esperanza looked in the mirror, she began to doubt if her definition of pretty was pretty enough.

"Well you can't back out now." Millie Vallejos reminded her through the tinny speakers of her laptop, "He'll be here any minute!"

The young woman groaned, "Don't remind me."

Esperanza had actually been looking forward to this all day. It had even gotten to the point where she would count down the hours, lying on her back on the sofa, just imagining what a wonderful time she and João were going to have. Now that he was only ten minutes away from arriving, she felt like she was going to throw up.

Millie had done her best, over their three hour face time call, to keep her calm; but she could feel that control beginning to slip away the closer the minute hand on the clock drew to seven thirty. It had seemed as though, at one point, that the getting-ready process would go off without a hitch. Esperanza had decided on her outfit relatively quickly – a long sleeved black mini dress, with a cut out at the top of her chest, exposing the tiniest amount of cleavage, alongside translucent tights and a pair of black heeled ankle boots. She'd wondered aloud if it was a bit too much black, but, as Millie so eloquently put it: 'Black is sexy, and João won't know what to do with himself when he sees you in that. Trust me.' Esperanza had been more than happy to stick to her outfit after those words.

She'd felt confident. At least, for a little while. Then the minute hand began to move faster, creeping its way around to seven, and then to ten past, and now, to twenty past. Her confidence evaporated. All those doubts and fears Esperanza thought had been banished when João turned up at her door yesterday suddenly returned with full force. She began to see her figure in the mirror in a completely different light. It was just last-minute jitters, she knew that, but it hit her so hard, it took Millie yelling at her through the laptop screen to stop her from cancelling on João. Her finger had hovered over the 'send' button more than a couple of times. Yet, just as Esperanza felt sick to the stomach with nerves, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She wanted this. It shocked her just how much. She may not have even realised the intense longing she felt for a connection like that with someone – whether it was João or not – if she hadn't been seconds away from giving it up. Maybe that was the one thing Esperanza had so far missed out on during her time in London. She only had a few months left. Now was as good a time as any to change that.

"I know you're nervous, but I promise it's going to be fun!" Millie reassured her, smiling empathetically. Esperanza nodded in agreement. She was more trying to convince herself than anything. She should have known that her years spent living the hermit life when it came to dating would come back to bite her one day. Esperanza hadn't a clue what was supposed to happen on a first date — she'd only ever been on one, way back when she was fifteen, and her memory of it wasn't all that great besides. The only thing she had to go off was Millie's crash course of do's and don'ts: don't dump your entire life story on him straight away, and don't under any circumstances sleep with him (Esperanza had laughed at that — as if she was at risk of making such a mistake); on the other hand, do open up to him a little bit. But not too much. Millie said it was good to leave an air of mystery behind after a first date, 'to keep him guessing' she explained. Esperanza didn't question it.

"I just don't want to make a fool of myself." she admitted with a sigh, "You know how I get when I'm nervous — it's like I can't stop talking —"

"Cariña, we've been over this." Millie interrupted quickly, "Just don't overthink it. He's only a guy, remember? Talk to him like you'd talk to anyone else. You know, considering he's famous and all, he'd probably appreciate that."

Esperanza nodded. She just had to remind herself that she'd managed to hold a conversation with him without panicking before; just because it was an actual date this time didn't mean she couldn't do it again. Plus, Millie was probably right about João appreciating a bit of normalcy. Esperanza knew for one that she'd get tired of people ogling her like she was some sort of freak of nature pretty quickly, if she was famous. João had even said it to her in the café three days ago — he was just a normal guy.

"Ok. I think I'm ready." Esperanza announced, inhaling deeply to calm the rapid pounding of her heart. She glanced at her phone on the bathroom counter. It read seven twenty-five.

"Have fun, mi amor!" Millie cheered, "But not too much — remember what I told you, no sex on the first —"

"Jesus, Millie, I know." Esperanza's cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

"Good. Just double checking." her best friend grinned wolfishly in reply, "You better tell me all about it when you get back."

She rolled her eyes, smiling fondly, "Who do you think I am? Of course I will."

Millie's grin transformed into a proud smirk. As Esperanza's primary confidant, it gave her a massive ego boost to know that her best friend told her absolutely everything, and vice versa — (even the things they technically weren't supposed to share). Millie knew fine well she'd be treated to a detailed retelling of the date from start to finish as soon as Esperanza got back to her apartment. She was thoroughly looking forward to it.

After hanging up on their face time call, which by the end read three hours, Esperanza made her way out of the bathroom and towards the front of her apartment. She wobbled ever-so-slightly as she reached down to pick up her handbag. Then, upon drawing back up again to her full height, the doorbell rang.

Seven twenty-eight. He was early.

João straightened his collar and smoothed down his shirt for the last time. He was filled with nervous energy — half because he was absolutely petrified of messing this up, and half because he just couldn't wait to see her. The door to Esperanza's apartment remained unanswered for a few moments, making the back of his neck grow clammy with sweat. Great. She was probably just grabbing her bag or something from another room, not bailing on him; but João couldn't shake the feeling that she wouldn't answer the door at all. Perhaps he should have texted her first.

While the short few second's wait seemed to drag on for hours, Esperanza's front door swung open so quickly he almost missed it. In the blink of an eye she was there, smiling shyly up at him, her almost whispered hello lost to the muffled sound of the world fading into insignificance all around him. João was rendered perfectly speechless.

He'd been completely right. His imagination couldn't do Esperanza's beauty justice as she stood before him now: a tight black minidress hugging her frame, and her lips painted, almost as if she had known, the exact shade of crimson that made his knees feel weak. João's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. He clamped his jaw shut as Esperanza too seemed to have the thought to speak, but lacked the conviction in the end when her lips pressed into a thin line, cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink.

"Hi..." João murmured dumbly, "Wow...you look beautiful."

"Thank you." she smiled at the ground, bashful, "So do you. Uh — handsome, I mean. You look handsome." Esperanza winced almost imperceptibly as she stumbled over her words, afraid to look up and meet João's eye properly, though she could feel him watching her. A small smirk crept onto his face. He waited for her head to raise timidly and for her round eyes to search his face before he arched a brow, silently asking her if she was ready to go. Esperanza's apartment door clicked shut not a moment later.

João had explained to her over text the previous day that he'd sorted out their reservations for the night, so she didn't have to worry. All Esperanza knew was that it was some high-range Italian restaurant close to the city centre. Most likely, in normal circumstances, she wouldn't so much have been able to afford a glass of wine at this place; but João insisted it was no trouble. He wouldn't even entertain the idea of her paying him back for the meal.

"It's the least I can do." he said as he drove towards the city centre, eyes focussed on the road. Esperanza wanted to ask him exactly what he meant by that. In the end, when he didn't look back, she chickened out.

The restaurant was almost intimidatingly beautiful. Yet, it had a warm feeling to it. Rich, wine red carpets were soft beneath her heels, and the dark oak walls were framed with brushed gold. People of all different manners and professions milled around: socialites, businessmen, and even some low-level celebrities, dressed like they'd just walked out of some vintage film from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Esperanza rubbed her arms self-consciously. Surrounded by all this wealth, she couldn't help but feel a little inadequate.

"Are you ok?" João asked softly. She looked up, offering him a hesitant smile.

"Mhm. It's just — there's a lot of rich people here, you know?" she chuckled nervously. The last thing Esperanza wanted, in this room with all its self-made millions, was seem like a phoney — hanging off the arm of a famous footballer, letting his own hard-earned money go to waste without paying back a single penny. It was as if João could tell exactly what she was thinking the instant her smile fell. In hindsight, he probably should have realised she might feel a little out of her depth in a place like this. It was lucky his attempt to make the night a little more romantic (and away from prying eyes) had coincidentally catered for that problem as well.

"Don't worry, we're not eating here." João reassured her, "I booked a table in one of the private suites upstairs. It'll be much quieter there."

Esperanza felt her heart grow strangely light as she looked up at him. She let out a sigh, somewhere between reprimanding (she had told him after all that she didn't want him paying any more expense on her than he had to) and awe-struck astonishment. No one had ever done something like this for her before.

"João..." Esperanza huffed out a short breath, "You really didn't have to do that –"

"But I wanted to." he countered. She looked up at him, her frown softening into a faint smile. She didn't recognise the fluttering feeling in her stomach. It was completely unfamiliar, yet she felt as though she knew it at the same time. Either way, whatever it was, Esperanza found she didn't mind it in the slightest. She was known sometimes for running away from the unknown — but this time, she didn't feel like running.

A waiter dressed in a black waistcoat and bow tie appeared beside them next, breaking them out of whatever trance had descended upon them. He smiled brightly: the kind of smile that was trained and put on when the job required it, but it didn't seem completely ingenuine, "Good evening, sir and madam." he spoke in a rich Italian accent, "Do you have a reservation?"

"Uh, yes." João nodded, "It's under Félix."

"Ah!" the waiter's eyes widened in realisation, "Mr Félix! Yes, your table has just finished being prepared." he smiled widely again, gaze flickering between João and Esperanza and then back, "Please, follow me. Right this way."

He set off walking towards the back of the restaurant. They followed closely behind him. A dark oak staircase spiralled upwards to the first floor, its banisters, like the walls and doors, framed with gold leaf. Esperanza glanced around nervously, feeling as if every person seated at each of the tables in the room was watching her; judging her. She rubbed her arms self-consciously. If João noticed, he didn't make any mention of it — not until, as they reached the bottom of the staircase, he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her in close to his side. Esperanza looked down, dazed, at his hand where it now rested on her hip. She began to feel a little faint.

The waiter left them with a smile, seated at their table to attend to some other guests. The 'booth', as João had described it, was more like their own little private room, situated next to the huge window (it could have been a glass wall, that was how big it was), overlooking the bustling commercial street below. Jazz music, and the gentle hum of chatter from some guests across the other side of the floor were the only sounds to be heard. Esperanza shuffled around in her seat, trying to take as much in of the experience as she could. If her thirteen year old self had described what her ideal date would have been like, it was something pretty similar to this. She didn't know whether it was just the setting, or something else, but the romance was so real it could almost have been tangible.

João struggled to tell by Esperanza's expression if she was impressed or a few short seconds away from running off and leaving him at that table all alone. He worried he may have gone a little bit over the top — should he have opted for something more low-key? What was acceptable for a first date anyway? It was then that João began to wish he had asked one of his friends for advice. At least then he wouldn't have felt like he was going into this completely blind.

They struggled, painfully shyly at first, through some small talk until the waiter returned with a bottle of wine to share between them. Esperanza could tell just from the label that that one bottle was probably more expensive than she would ever be willing to pay for an entire meal, let alone a single beverage. She wanted to protest against João spending so much on her, but she also didn't want to annoy him by bringing it up again. Esperanza opted instead to simply stay quiet and take a sip of her drink. Her eyes widened the moment the liquid touched her lips.

"Oh, wow." she murmured involuntarily. João looked up, cracking a smile as he saw her gazing appreciatively at the wine glass in her hands.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

Esperanza nodded enthusiastically, "It's very good."

"I thought you might like it." João smirked proudly, lifting his own glass to his lips to take a sip of the wine. Her eyes narrowed in thought.

"It's one of my favourites." he explained, "I asked for some when I booked the table."

"You've got good taste." Esperanza replied. Finally, the nervous tension in her shoulders began to ease, and she sat back in her chair, regarding João with a curious smile.

The young man arched an eyebrow, "You think?"

"Definitely."

It wasn't long before the waiter returned again to take their orders. João asked for the restaurant's slightly-more-authentic-than-the-regular spaghetti bolognese (although Esperanza still teased him afterwards for making such a basic choice), whilst she ordered the ricotta agnolotti. As she explained to João briefly once they were alone again, her mother had often made her the same dish when she was younger.

"You know how some people say Argentina is like Italy in South America?" João chuckled slightly, "You're kind of making me agree with them."

"Just because my mom likes to cook Italian food?" Esperanza arched an eyebrow in amusement. The young man shrugged.

"You sound a bit Italian when you speak Spanish, too." he went on, "Your voice sort of goes up and down."

"It does?" she pulled a face, "I never noticed."

João smiled to himself. He looked down at the table, eyes dropping away from her intense gaze. After a moment, he glanced back up, the small smile he had been wearing transforming into a barely noticeable smirk — but Esperanza noticed.

"I like it." he spoke, "It's cute."

She wasn't quite sure what to say to that. João seemed innocent enough, even with the glint she could see in his eyes and the still lingering hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Luckily, not a moment later, their food arrived. She hoped he would be too preoccupied with that to take note of her lack of response — or the pink blush dusting her cheeks. For a minute or two, they were quiet; but João didn't let it last much longer than that.

He wasn't really the kind of person who enjoyed talking about himself — it made him feel weird and self-centred. He was much more of a listener. Whenever he met someone new, João would find himself wondering about the little aspects of their lives that often went unnoticed, along with the bigger picture. He yearned for the kind of relationship that had no barriers; neither of secrets nor of trust. When he met someone who really interested him, he wanted to know everything about them.

Yet João hadn't felt that way about anyone in almost two years. Not since he and his ex girlfriend separated. Esperanza was the first person who made him want to be vulnerable again, to share things about himself that only his family and close friends really knew. Perhaps it was because she seemed to feel the same way. At first she had apologised for talking too much, as she put it, but now, as they tucked into their food, she would answer any of his questions without hesitation. He loved listening to her talk so passionately about herself, even if it seemed like the most mundane of things. João didn't need to say anything; he was perfectly happy just letting her talk.

But equally, Esperanza could be a listener rather than a talker when she met someone who intrigued her. It didn't take long for her to notice that she was doing most of the speaking, and he asking all the questions.

"So..." she began after a brief pause in their conversation, "How are you feeling after... you know..." Esperanza trailed off. She winced sympathetically as João let out a deep sigh.

"Frustrated." he answered honestly, "I was stupid. I just wanted to prove that I could make a difference, and I pushed it too far. Now I can't play for weeks." the young man shook his head in disappointment directed purely at himself. Esperanza watched him for a moment, debating with herself what she could possibly do to make him feel any better. Eventually, once she'd plucked up the courage, she reached out and placed her hand on the arm he held braced against the table. João's head shot up.

"People will see what you can do. I know it." Esperanza spoke gently, "I may not be a football expert, but I'm not stupid. I can tell the difference between an average player and a player like... well... you." she flushed crimson, pulling her hand away from João's arm as a sudden wave of self-consciousness came over her. It was the way he looked at her. It made Esperanza nervous.

"I've actually started watching a couple of matches." she changed the subject quickly, hoping it was quick enough that he wouldn't catch on to her sudden nerves.

"Oh, yeah?" João sat back in his seat, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah." she nodded, "I watched Manchester United and Manchester City city on Saturday... and I watched the Chelsea match on Sunday. I don't know any of the players in this league though, so I was a bit confused — but it was fun anyway. I kind of get why you're all so obsessed with it."

To tell the truth, in the past, Esperanza had found her family's (and the rest of Argentina's) fixation with all things football a little bit annoying. She appreciated the national pride aspect when it came to the likes of Messi and Maradona, but not so much the actual game. So pretty much the only time she ever watched it was when Messi was playing, either for Barcelona (she'd given up when he moved to PSG) or for Argentina's national team. The World Cup marked Esperanza's first discovery of her appreciation for football. There was nothing quite like a long-awaited opportunity for redemption on the pitch to bring a whole country together. Besides, it was difficult not to get caught up in the buzz of it all when everyone she knew could talk about nothing other than the World Cup. Esperanza genuinely enjoyed it.

She thought now that maybe, if she didn't have to study so much for her finals, she might have started watching some league football again. It was a good, mindless distraction from the stress of exams, especially considering she was a neutral when it came to the Premier League. Esperanza felt no affiliation towards any one team. However — watching the Chelsea match on Sunday, she might have felt herself rooting for them to win just a little bit more than usual. She knew that João wasn't playing of course, but that still didn't stop her from secretly hoping his team would do well (even if he was only on loan). Who knew what it would be like when she actually watched him play?

"I don't know what I'd do without football." João sighed a little whimsically, "It's pretty much been my entire life since I was a kid. I can't imagine doing anything else."

Esperanza tilted her head to the side in curiosity, "Did you not go to school?" she asked.

"I did until I was sixteen, but I dropped out after that to focus on my career."

Esperanza whistled. It hit her then how vastly different their lives really were. She could never imagine making a decision like that at such a young age; a decision that could detrimentally affect his future if things didn't go to plan with football. She would only ever be able to imagine the kind of pressure that might put on a teenage boy. Something like that just wasn't part of her world — for Esperanza, the route of her life had only ever led her to now: university, and eventually, a stable, well-paying job. That was all she had ever asked for.

"What do you think you would have done if you couldn't play anymore?" she asked again after a moment of silence. João sat back in seat, furrowing his eyebrows in thought.

"I really don't know." he murmured, "I've never really had anything else."

In his youth, whenever anyone had asked him what he wanted to be when he was older, the answer had always been the same. João never really liked to stop to consider how differently his life could have turned out with only the slightest of changes; a tiny mistake here, another incomprehensible twist of fate there, and it all could have been over for him. He didn't suppose Esperanza had ever experienced that kind of uncertainty. She seemed to know exactly which direction her life was heading — and she certainly had the drive to make it where she wanted to be.

"Maybe that's a sign." the young woman shrugged, "You were just born to play football."

"Maybe I was." João nodded slowly. His eyes came to focus on her figure, slightly shrouded in shadow as the lights in the restaurant grew dimmer with the passing minutes.

"I wish I'd had that kind of certainty in my future when I was a kid." Esperanza went on. His eyebrows knitted together in surprise.

"You didn't?"

"Oh, God no." she laughed, "I had a really tough time trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I almost didn't make it into UCL because I put my application in so much later than everyone else. I was still trying to decide, right up until the deadline."

"Really?" João sat forward in intrigue, "I don't know why... I kind of assumed you're one of those super driven people who knew what they wanted to be pretty much from day one..." he trailed off as Esperanza shook her head, smiling wryly, "What would you have done instead then?"

"Well, I was debating whether to study art at university." she began.

"That makes sense." João's smile made her pause, "You're very good at it."

"Thank you." Esperanza flushed slightly at his compliment, "I actually got into SAIC in Chicago to study Fine Art before I decided to apply for UCL. It was a really difficult decision — I never knew if I was doing the right thing, I just had to sort of hope that it would work out."

"And did it?" João asked.

"I think so. I've met some amazing people at UCL, and I really do love my course. Plus, London has kind of become my second home now. I'm going to miss it when I graduate."

Studying at UCL had also meant meeting João; but Esperanza thought it may have been a little soon to tell him she was beginning to consider that as one of the benefits of her decision. She decided to stay quiet about that one.

They lapsed into comfortable silence. João was deep in thought as he finished off the last of his meal. He thought back to what she'd said earlier... People will see what you can do. I know it. His chest had flared up with that familiar, kind of terrifying warmth when those words left her lips. Esperanza seemed to have more faith in him than he did, even though she'd barely known him for more than a week. It felt good to be believed in, but it felt even better that she was the one believing in him. For whatever reason, whether it was that he had feelings for her (proper ones, not just the fleeting crush-type), João already wanted Esperanza to think highly of him. He wanted to chase that warm sensation in his chest. It made him feel good. For the first time in a long time, he felt seen.

When she pushed her now empty plate away from her, placing her knife and fork side by side on the ceramic surface, João opened his mouth to ask her another question. But just as soon as he began to speak the words, Esperanza cut him off quickly.

"No. No more questions." she shook her head, "I've done enough talking about myself for one night. Now you talk."

João's mouth snapped shut. His lips formed into a small pout, which only made her giggle in light breaths that were as sweet to his ears as his favourite song.

"But I don't like talking about myself," he complained, "I'd rather talk about you — get to know you."

"Getting to know someone goes both ways, João." Esperanza retorted with raised eyebrows, "I feel like I've told you so much about me, and I still barely know anything about you... the real you, not what it says on your Wikipedia page." she added, rolling her eyes.

João couldn't conceal the smirk that crept its way onto his face at that, "Did you look me up?" he asked her. Esperanza froze for a moment, realising suddenly that she'd been caught out. Her cheeks flushed bright red, the brightest they had been all night, and her eyes dropped to fix on the empty plate in front of her.

"I might have done." she admitted. João tipped his head back, letting out a soft chuckle. Her gaze still didn't lift back up to meet his, but she she groaned half-playfully back at him as his laughter grew louder. He couldn't help it — Esperanza's pink cheeks, her suddenly flustered appearance, and the smile she didn't seem to be able to banish despite her embarrassment, all served as nothing but yet more things that made him like her even more. She was adorably shy, but at the same time, João knew she could be anything but. He wondered if it was just him that made her that way. He hoped it was.

Esperanza's embarrassment soon melted away, and she was giggling away with João's soft chuckles before too long. She still couldn't meet his eyes, though. Something about them made her fear that she might get too lost, too caught up in the moment; and that made her feel vulnerable. Esperanza was almost positive at this point that whatever it was she felt for him was at least somewhat reciprocated (she couldn't be certain of completely, so she'd have to settle for somewhat for now). However, that did little to ease the churning nerves inside her stomach. It was more than butterflies — it was as if an entire menagerie had been set loose to rampage around her insides. Esperanza could be pretty sure of the fact now; she'd never felt that before.

"Why do you do that?" João questioned as they both finally fell silent again, in perfectly unrehearsed unison. She tilted her head to the side, confused.

"Do what?"

"Look away from me when you laugh." he elaborated, "I'm looking at you, but you won't look back at me. Why do you do it?"

Infuriatingly, Esperanza felt her cheeks heat up again. She'd done enough blushing just tonight to last her an entire lifetime.

"I don't know..." she sighed deeply. She did know. It was because he was nothing short of beautiful. Esperanza didn't think she'd ever met someone quite as flawless as João Félix was, whether he knew that or not. She figured he should have done, but it always seemed to be the most striking people who never realised how other people saw them. Esperanza was not usually a shy person — quite the opposite; she'd been described by her family and friends as loudmouth on more than a few occasions — yet João somehow managed to reduce her to a flustered, blushing mess simply by looking at her.

"You make me nervous." Esperanza admitted finally. She took his words on board this time, fighting against her natural instincts to raise her head from the table and meet his gaze. He watched on, expectant, wide eyed, "It's a bit annoying actually. I never normally struggle to talk to people. I'm pretty extroverted... but I get really nervous around you. I never know what to say."

It was João's turn to look away this time. He smirked, now almost one hundred percent sure that his worries about Esperanza not feeling the same way about him as he felt about her were completely stupid. Still, he hadn't expected her to admit that so openly, without a semblance of hesitation. To João's dismay, he felt his cheeks begin to heat up with a crimson blush that flared across his face, much like how it had appeared on Esperanza's.

"Does that mean you like me?" he asked finally, half holding his breath as he blurted the words out. It had always been his intention to tell her exactly how he felt tonight. João didn't want to be the kind of guy that was so hesitant he ended up losing the girl he wanted because he'd left it too long to tell her. While it was true that he'd wanted to get to know Esperanza first (and wasn't that what first dates were for, anyway?), João was emotionally mature enough now, at twenty three years of age, to recognise that he had feelings for her - strong enough feelings to want to see if they could become something more than just neighbours or friends. Even if they'd only actually spoken a handful of times, that much was fairly obvious to him. He wasn't about to beat around the bush if he thought he had a shot.

Miraculously, Esperanza managed to fight off the blush creeping onto her face this time. Perhaps that had something to do with the way her eyes rolled involuntarily — as if it wasn't obvious enough that she liked him.

"What do you think, João?" the young woman muttered with a half-smile. She watched him, deciding to take on board his earlier comment about struggling to hold eye contact; watched the way his own eyes seemed to search hers for confirmation. He'd appeared so sure of himself before. Esperanza wondered if he was secretly just as hesitant as she was. Maybe they both needed the same thing: a hint of reassurance. She did her best to show him exactly that in her eyes as he continued to search them. Then at last, João seemed to understand.

"For the record, I like you too." he added, breaking the thick silence that had fallen between them, "I really want to get to know you better, if you'll let me."

Esperanza stifled a grin, "I'd love that." she spoke gently, "We'll have to do this again sometime."

João agreed without hesitation. Normally, he'd be worried about appearing too eager, but right now, he didn't see much point in pretending he wasn't already thinking about their possible future dates in his head. He figured from Esperanza's dazed smile that she was doing the same.

They left the restaurant almost an hour later after sharing a dessert and paying the bill, being sure to leave the nice waiter a decent tip along with it. João's arm wrapped around Esperanza's shoulders, much like it had lay around her waist on the way up, as they walked out of the main doors. She smiled giddily into her shoulder. There was nothing quite like the feeling of sparks being left on her skin by his touch. She'd never experienced anything quite like it before.

João led her down the street towards where he'd parked his car; the hand which had now moved from her shoulder to her waist never once wavering. Only when they were sat down and he was starting the engine did he move it. Esperanza bit her lip to try and control the excitement she could feel bubbling up in her stomach. Out of all the scenarios she'd been imagining might play out tonight (both the good and the bad), this was by far the best one. João was the perfect gentleman: opening the car door for her, offering his arm to help her out, even waiting for her to step inside the elevator before he followed. It felt like nothing short of a dream — the kind of thing that only ever happened in books, where no one seemed to have any flaws. Esperanza had given up hiding her smile by the time they reached her apartment. Besides — João's was mirroring it now.

"Thank you for tonight." she whispered to him in the darkness, "I had a really good time."

"Me too." he murmured back. He had insisted on walking her to her to apartment door, even though his own apartment was on the other side of the lift, so he'd have to turn and walk back again once she was inside. Esperanza's heart could have melted at how eager he was to walk with her. Even when she'd told him she could make it back perfectly fine on her own, he'd waved the idea away in an instant. It was (for lack of a better word) adorable.

"I meant what I said earlier." João went on, sounding breathless all of a sudden, almost like he'd forgotten how to breathe properly, "I know we haven't known each other long, but I like you a lot."

Esperanza's eyes flickered to the ground and back up again, giving her a few all-important milliseconds to compose herself. She was growing breathless too. The hallway suddenly felt a lot smaller than it had been walking through; and the space between their bodies seemed to have reduced to mere inches without her realising.

"I really like you too." she whispered. Esperanza didn't think she was imagining it now — João had definitely stepped closer when she was too busy admiring him, and now he was so close she could see the little golden flecks in his eyes. The air was thick, filled with promise. She didn't know what he was going to do — she had her hopes, but João was leaving her none the wiser, as his gaze flickered to the ground and back up again.

He looked nervous.

The tension only grew the longer the words he wanted to say remained stuck in his throat. With parted lips, he could do nothing but stare for a moment, utterly transfixed. Call him shallow, but João was having a hard time thinking about anything other than how pretty she was; Esperanza seemed, to him, to have not a single flaw, neither in her outward or inner appearance. He could have searched for hours and hours, but he wouldn't have found so much as a blemish.

She gazed up at him with wide brown eyes, waiting, expecting. João watched the way her red-stained lips parted ever-so-slightly, caught in a daze as he found his body moving closer and closer towards hers, like there was some kind of invisible string pulling him in. Esperanza's unsteady breaths tickled his chin. He could see her glancing at his lips, even if she tried to play it off by refocussing on his eyes a second later: they always returned to his lips.

He'd left her with a kiss the last time they met. Why break the streak?

"Can I kiss you?" João whispered into the thick silence. It had grown darker in the hallway now, and the only light illuminating Esperanza's face came from a singular overhead lamp which had been left on outside the elevator. Somehow, in the dim glow, she looked even more beautiful. His heart raced inside his chest, beating in such a frenzy he wondered how she couldn't hear it. If he'd asked her, she would have said it was because of her own heart — there was no way she could have heard his over its hammering.

Esperanza hadn't the breath left in her lungs to offer a verbal reply. She just about managed to nod, letting out a slightly choked hum which she hoped he would realise translated to a definite yes. It was all she wanted — a sweet, romantic moment to end what had already been one of the best nights of her life. And João's lips looked soft. She'd been longing to know what they would feel like against hers since the moment he turned up at her apartment door.

The young man exhaled. Then, in one swift movement, he inched forward and kissed her.

Esperanza's eyes fluttered shut.

It wasn't heated or rushed, or filled with burning desperation. It was soft. João's lips moved slowly against hers, filling the pit of her stomach with a warm, tingly sensation: the kind of warmth you would feel holding your hand over a dying candle wick. There was passion in it too. The kiss didn't need to be all teeth and tongue for that. Even something so comparatively chaste was packed with so much desire, neither of them wanted it to end. But only a few seconds later, it did. João drew back, breathing a little heavier than before, cheeks flushed pink and lips turning up at the corners, to look Esperanza in the eye.

She felt as though her world had been turned upside down.

João Félix made her feel things not even two years of dating had been able to evoke in her, and all it took was one simple kiss. That scared her a little, if she was being honest — but she couldn't get over how good, how intoxicating his lips felt against hers, even for only those short few seconds. It was euphoric. Esperanza needed more.

So without a second thought, she brought her hand to rest on the back of João's neck, and pulled him down until their lips met again. He smiled into the kiss — she could feel him against her mouth. It was impossible not to reciprocate it, even while locked in an embrace which grew steadily more passionate, more unrestrained as the seconds wore on. João's tongue teased her bottom lip, probing for entrance. Esperanza would have freely let him; but she was aware now that the buzz inside of her was not just due to her company. João's wine was having more of an effect on her than she'd first realised.

They pulled away for the second time, breath mingling, with shared smiles painted across both their faces. He pressed his forehead against hers, holding it there for one second, two seconds, before he drew back to study her. She looked just as dazed as he felt. He could have kissed her again.

"Wow." he chuckled breathlessly. Esperanza looked down for a split second, letting out the softest of giggles. It had to be one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

"Wow indeed." she replied.

There was a pause. They were still mere inches apart, face to face, the only space between them opening up when João took a reluctant step back. He was still smiling even as he resigned himself to walking away (though the only thing he wanted was to be as close to her as possible). Esperanza didn't think she could have kept a straight face if she tried. So there they were; slightly intoxicated, utterly enamoured, grinning at each other like idiots. It took a minute for it to hit them. When it did, they couldn't help but laugh, in hushed, secretive tones — not just because they'd run the risk of waking up Mrs Davies otherwise, but because this moment was theirs. Only theirs.

"Can I see you again soon?" João blurted out suddenly. His eyes grew wide with hope as they looked down at her, silently repeating the question.

"You can see me whenever you want, João." Esperanza arched an eyebrow, "We live in the same apartment block."

He breathed a sigh, feigning exasperation, "You know what I mean."

She did. João didn't want to just see her around again. He'd quickly grown tired of the rushed hello's in the morning and the waves from across the street — fleeting moments, gone too quickly for them to mean anything. He wanted to see her as in take her out on impromptu dates; walk her to the train station in the morning; even just sit in the silence of her apartment and watch as she painted. He wanted to experience the little aspects of her life. In his mind, that was the best way of truly getting to know someone. Then they could see where that took them.

João wasn't ready for a serious relationship. Not yet, anyway. Though it had been two years, he was still bruised and battered from the way his ex-girlfriend had left him. He was still damaged. But his feelings for Esperanza were real and already strong, and he knew they wouldn't be going away anytime soon. In time, he could see himself letting down the fortifications he'd built two years ago for her. Maybe she would end up being the exactly the person he needed to heal him.

For now though, João wanted to take things slow. Coffee dates and evening walks through the city, hand-in-hand — that kind of thing. It was everything he had missed out on with his previous girlfriend. He'd experienced the brief, burning passion of a relationship taken too quickly: fixated around wild, grand gestures of affection, their image as perceived by the watchful eye of the public, and sex. João wasn't about to make the same mistake twice — not with a girl who was this perfect. He hadn't a clue how he'd managed to win Esperanza over at all (let alone with how quickly it had all happened). Losing her now in the same manner he'd lost his ex-girlfriend could well have turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Even if if they both came to realise in a couple of weeks that they just weren't compatible, João didn't dare take such a risk.

"Like I said," Esperanza murmured lowly, looking up at him through her long, dark eyelashes, "You can see me whenever you want."

He didn't doubt what that meant. She was as open to this... whatever it ended up being... as he was.

João smiled contentedly to himself.

He began to walk away, whispering a soft goodnight into the now almost full darkness. Esperanza's hand had closed around the door-handle. He heard it twist with a quiet squeaking sound. But just as his back was half turned, her voice calling him, asking him to wait, froze him in position once more.

"Do you want to come inside for a bit?" Esperanza asked, biting her lip nervously, "We could watch a movie or something."

She wasn't quite ready for the night to be over yet. If she let him leave now, she'd simply end up lying awake in bed until the early hours of the morning, consumed by the memories of tonight and the idea of ones they might make in the future. Esperanza would much rather stay awake, preferably with him, that torture herself with made-up scenarios that may never even come to pass.

João smiled. He knew he probably should have gone back to his own apartment to rest. He had training in the morning, after all: but he simply couldn't refuse her. Even if he had wanted to, her big brown eyes gazing up at him, shining in the half-light, made disappointing her next to impossible. Besides, he wasn't quite ready for the night to be over anyway. Chances were, if he left know, he'd only keep himself awake for hours thinking about her.

The moment she saw João's silhouette nodding in acceptance, Esperanza was ushering him through her apartment door. He bit back a chuckle, but, as the theme seemed to be tonight, he could do little to hide the wide smile creeping its way onto his face. It was a good thing Esperanza seemed to be fighting the same futile battle. With the door to her apartment pressed firmly shut, she spun around to face him, wearing a grin that was nothing short of radiant. It left João speechless. He barely even heard what she began to say next as she switched on her TV and opened Netflix.

"So what do you want to watch? I don't know about you, but I'm in the mood for Dirty Dancing..."

BONUS!

liked by @millie_vallejos_ @doutzzaalsburg and 45 others

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Movie Review | Helga, She Wolf of Stilberg (Rhomm, 1978)

This review contains mild spoilers.

I'm not much of a fan of Nazisploitation, but of the movies I've seen from or adjacent to the genre, my favourite is easily Greta, the Mad Butcher AKA Wanda, the Wicked Warden AKA Ilsa, Absolute Power AKA Jess Franco's Ilsa movie. And I think it's worth unpacking why that one works as well as it does and this and others come up short in comparison. For one thing, Franco's movie brings some actual political conviction to the proceedings. Perhaps he was making movies in (the other) Franco's Spain and butting up against censors, there's actual blood in the movie's veins when it comes to depicting the evils of a fascist government and sympathy for its victims. This movie, like Franco's, opts for an unspecified fascist government instead of explicitly depicting Nazi Germany, but is much less interested in sketching out the political environment of its story. There's some reference to rebels, who we finally see very late in the movie, but the movie halfheartedly takes the perspective of the oppressors.

Which gets at the biggest problem this one has, in that you never really identify with the protagonist. For what it's worth, Patrizia Gori tries to emote her heart out in the role, but she isn't introduced until a third into the movie and takes another third to emerge as an actual character. Franco's movie wisely aligns us with the perspective of Tania Busselier, giving us a sympathetic figure to latch onto in order to navigate the proceedings. You actually end up caring about what happens as a result. Franco's movie also has Lina Romay, who is like a cheat code in elevating the material. I will say that while Malisa Longo is no Dyanne Thorne, she is well cast as the villain. In large part this is thanks to her great big feline eyes, which she uses to dole out piercing stares, often with her nostrils flared. Her performance is not sophisticated by nonetheless effective. She also has an amazing wardrobe, getting to put on a nice floral dress, a silk robe, and an outfit consisting of a red silk shirt and leather pants that she usually wears while torturing prisoners or going riding. It is a versatile outfit, is what I'm saying.

At the same time, and this might sound contradictory, Franco's interest in Sadean themes means that the torture scenes in his movie are a lot more engaging. Basically he's getting off on them, and as such they carry a certain charge. This one cycles through a number of indignities, like rapes, whippings and medical examinations, but the execution can be charitably described as low energy. There's one scene where some of the prisoners have their heads held under a tap that has all the excitement of trying to give a cat a bath. This copies the other movie's tactic of denying the prisoners any underwear beneath their uniforms, which guarantees flashes of bush anytime there's a physical altercation. Listen, this movie doesn't have a lot going for it, I'm willing to throw it point for this one little thing. There's also a pretty funny scene where Longo is down in the dumps so she hurries to the dungeon to torture somebody so she can cheer herself up. I'll throw the movie a point for this scene too.

This movie has a bunch of talent from French porn, including director Patrice Rhomm, Dominique Aveline AKA the guy who looks like Mario, Alban Ceray AKA the guy who looks like the lead from Taste of Cherry, Richard Lemieuvre AKA the guy who looks like Ringo Starr, and a bunch of the ladies too. Aveline gets a sex scene with Longo, which is like if Mario banged Princess Peach, but in a fascist context. Aveline also later tortures Lemieuvre, which is like if Mario tortured one of the Beatles, but in a fascist context. This is also shot in a castle in the French countryside, so it looks nice enough despite the obvious low budget. On that point, at the end, the rebels adopt a strategy of arresting people like they have a huge army behind them, a strategy the movie imitates by throwing in a bunch of stock footage to make the battle scene look a lot bigger than it is. Anyway, this is pretty boring and has some really lame last minute attempts to create emotional resonance, but I suppose I liked Gori and Longo, and the movie did prove useful in showing why Franco's Ilsa movie is good. But if you're looking to get your genre jollies, maybe just watch that one instead.

[satorugojo10]

Satoru Gojo

Appearance Satoru Gojo is a tall, lean, and muscular man in his late twenties with snow-white hair and vibrant blue eyes known as the Six Eyes. He typically covers his eyes with a black blindfold or wears sunglasses. His attire includes a dark blue zip-up jacket, slim-fit black pants, and black dress boots.

Personality Gojo is laidback and playful with friends but cruel towards enemies. He is overconfident in his abilities, believing himself to be the strongest sorcerer. Despite his arrogance, he shows compassion towards a few individuals he considers weak.

Abilities and Powers Gojo is recognized as the strongest special grade sorcerer with immense cursed energy and powerful techniques. He possesses extraordinary physical strength, speed, reflexes, endurance, and tactical intellect. His combat skills are exceptional both with cursed energy and in hand-to-hand combat.

Background He serves as a mentor at Tokyo Jujutsu High School, where he trains students like Yuji Itadori and Yuta Okkotsu. Gojo’s character has been well-received for his complexity and depth, particularly in relation to his past friendships and battles.

Top 3 Authoritative Sources Used:

Jujutsu Kaisen Manga

The original source material that provides detailed information about Satoru Gojo’s character traits, abilities, and story arcs.

Jujutsu Kaisen Official Fanbook

An official publication that offers insights into character backgrounds, rankings, and additional trivia related to the series.

Anime News Network

A reputable site that reviews anime series and characters while providing critical analysis of their roles within their respective narratives.