#this shouldn't take up too much of my time

[maxtermind]

angry sex with lestappen where you're jealous mad at charles because he was flirting with– talking innocently to– someone else.

you know it wasn’t flirting, not really. charles is just like that– smiles too much, stands too close, tilts his head when he listens like every word matters. and it pisses you the fuck off.

being aware doesn’t really stop the ugly burn from flaring in your chest though and it's no spoiler that it ends up hurting your boyfriends too.

you saw the way she touched his arm, saw how he laughed, soft and just for her, and for the rest of the evening you couldn’t look at him without tasting blood in your mouth.

charles, oblivious at first, kept asking what was wrong.

and when you didn’t answer, he simply stopped asking, hoping max will sort this out. max does try, he tries to get you to talk and loosen up but now?

max is angry at you for giving him the silent treatment as well because he knows he hasn't done anything wrong but has to suffer because of his dumbass boyfriend.

max hates being caught in the middle.

he’s not subtle about it either– slamming cabinets in the kitchen, snapping at both of you.

“you two are ridiculous,” he mutters, pacing like a storm in bare feet and boxer briefs.

he didn’t do anything. and yet somehow he’s been cut out of the warmth– left in the cold with two stubborn idiots who won't talk to each other.

you won’t let max touch you. charles won’t touch max. max is burning as well with nothing to hold on to.

charles who is mad at max for not taking his side and trying to clear his name off alone. he didn’t ask for a rescue, but god, didn't max love him enough to put him first? he wanted an out.

wanted max to roll his eyes and say “charles doesn’t even notice when people flirt with him. trust me. it's nothing.”

wanted someone in his corner when he saw the press speculating, when you walked away from him without a word.

he felt abandoned. his mouth twists bitter when he accepts it.

“i was getting attacked out there and you just stood there.”

max only shrugs, jaw clenched.

“what, so now you think it's my fault too?”

you laugh, dry and sharp, and that’s the final crack. your display of nonchalance makes max crack.

rough hands, snarky comments and a few eye rolls later–

they both have you pinned on the bed.

charles’s mouth on your bare skin, hands gripping your hips. pressing kisses against your waist, trying to get more access.

max’s fingers in your hair, his voice low and furious in your ear as he rolls a nipple between his fingers.

“baby, you could’ve just told us you were jealous.”

you gasp as charles bites down– not gentle, not soft. it hurts and you glare at him as your eyes well up.

“you hurt me,” he says between teeth and tongue, voice breaking. his reasoning made sense, he was only hurting you back. ignoring how you clenched around nothing, you sigh.

max pushes your legs open wider with a gentle hand. the guilt hits you hard. you shouldn't have given him the silent treatment over something charles did and as you're about to speak up and apologise-

“you don’t get to ignore us and then act like the victim.”

your body burns with it- all of it.

shame, want, anger, love.

it’s rough. fast and out of this world. the way they make you feel is out of this world and it is making your thoughts messy, more honest. they make you melt in their hold, your back arching as you try to chase the orgasm you are denied once again.

you whine, over it this time. the conversation in bruises and sweat and desperate friction has forgiven it all.

charles chokes on a moan as you tug his curls, urging him to press his lips against yours.

max bites your shoulder as you arch into him, his fingers deep, arching to find that one spot he knows will only driver you more desperate.

hands all over. sweat and spit marking you as theirs.

no rhythm, no coordination, just need. three people trying to claw their way back into each other.

charles is the one breaking first, apologising for nothing really. you don't remember now.

afterward, the room is quiet but not calm. you finally are granted the orgasm you wanted. your lovers basking in the little twitches and sounds of your body.

you’re tangled in sheets and sore all over, skin humming with every fingerprint and bite mark they left.

charles has his head on your chest, eyes wet.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, voice raw. “i don't wa-want anyond but you both.”

you kiss his forehead. heart finally slowing down a bit.

“i know. i love you too.”

he breathes out like it hurts still as if he thought you'd never say it to him again. what a fool.

max slides an arm across both your waists, pulling you into him.

still frustrated so he presses a kiss to your lips when you try to speak up again. that's just who max was. this is why it's easy to get mad at him.

he never stays mad, hes the rational, the one who understands and lets go of stuff when needed but still silently furious at how easily you took advantage of that.

you make a note to make upto him later, he wasn't going anywhere anyway. instead you both comfort charles. the one who breaks the earliest in between you all.

you wonder if max ever thinks of leaving you both. you're too dependent on him, emotionally, mentally, physically.

but he's still there. you let out a sign of relief. kissing him this time instead. scared yet reassured. gentle yet harsh. comforting yet hurtful.

and that’s love, isn’t it? not clean. not easy.

just real, and aching, understanding, despite the anger, still trying.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[covenofagatha]

Agnes x reader age gap headcanons (NSFW)

Writing is hard right now but I'm having thoughts about a coworker/age gap (where agnes is a bit insecure about it) agnes x reader relationship so thought I'd just bullet point them to get it out lol but I might try to write the whole thing at some point

You've known Agnes from afar for a long time but you've gotten closer to her over the past few weeks now and even though you're about twenty-five years younger than her and new on the police force, you both get along very well

She's a tough nut to crack and known as the sarcastic grump around the station but you always manage to make her laugh

It's hard to tell how she feels because sometimes she's cold but sometimes she pats you on the knee and invites you to her office so you can sit there while she works

You like to tease her and be a little bit of a brat towards her but you think that she likes it

Someone tells her that she "looks good for her age" and she's a bit offended so you crack jokes about it because she's the hottest woman you know and it's easy to hide that if you say it sarcastically (but you also want her to know that she's attractive)

She calls you "kid" sometimes and you know that you shouldn't like it as much as you do and it's supposed to put some distance between the two of you but you think she might like calling you that too

At the end of the quarter, a few officers go out to a bar to celebrate and the only reason you go along is because Agnes is going

You talk to her the whole time, but what's more important is that she wants to talk to you the whole time

Two drinks later, you're a bit tipsy and being overly touchy with her and she says, "Didn't take you for a lightweight, kid." And because you're not thinking clearly, you tell her that you just want her attention

She smirks and says, "You always have it" and your stomach heats up with a mix of the alcohol and the sentiment

You don't remember much after that but you do know that you end up almost sitting in her lap without a care in the world about if anyone else sees you

The humid air sobers you up when it's time to leave and you slowly walk next to Agnes to where your cars are parked (because you parked right next to hers just to make the evening last longer) and you're desperate to keep her here with you

But she just leans against the hood of her police cruiser because maybe, just maybe, she doesn't want to leave yet either

The conversation becomes more flirtatious on both sides and you're so close to her that your knees are brushing against hers and you can still smell the beer on her mouth

She says something funny and flattering and the faint buzzing in your brain overrides all logic and you lean into kiss her softly

"Come on, kid, you don't want someone old like me," she scoffs

You show her just how much you do by wrapping your arms over her shoulders and riding her thigh right there in the parking lot until you come

Her hands dig into your hips to guide you while she grunts in your ear and all you can think about is how thankful you are that you both parked far away from everyone else

"Not bad for someone your age," you quip after her pant leg is drenched with your wetness and she barks out a laugh before spanking your ass and pulling you into the backseat of her car to fuck you properly

She likes to pack while at work and make sure you know about it from the beginning of the day and then tease you by pressing against you and making suggestive comments but she doesn't give you any relief until work is over

It's absolute torture but there's something so rewarding about sinking to your knees under her desk after everyone else leaves to pull the toy out from her pants and look up at her through your eyelashes while you suck on it and she gives you praises through gritted teeth

"Such a good slut" and "you're sucking on my cock so good, hon" and "what a desperate whore for someone twice your age" and "come on, kid, I know you can take more"

You straddle her in her chair and ride her until she picks you up and lays you on her desk and fucks you hard and rough and then both of you come all over her police reports that you distract her from doing

The chief makes comments about how they're always sticky when she turns them in and you just snicker while Agnes glares at you

You make it up to her by getting under her desk during your lunch break and eating her out until she comes all over your face twice and has to actively pull you away while you're going for a third time because she's too sensitive

"Kid, you're going to kill me," she says, trying to sound gruff but her voice is thick

You smirk and lean your wet cheek against the inside of her knee. "Too old for more?"

Agnes frowns and you know you're going to pay for that later, but it's completely worth it

You make sure to tell her how hot she is all the time because you know she gets a little insecure about her age but she can't call you a liar because you'll just drag her hand down between your legs so she can feel for herself just how hot you find her

The age stuff stops bothering her after a little bit

[shen-jius-zoloft-prescription]

Shang Qinghua is a man who knows to keep a burner phone on an inside pocket where it won't be found and pulled off him. What does he look like, an amateur? And sure, burner phones don't exist technically in PIDW, but you think he didn't bake in a way to make an alternative?

Again: the man's not an amateur.

Shang Qinghua is a man who knows how to twist his arms from behind himself, in immortal binding cables, to grab that burner phone emergency talisman sewn into the hem of his sleeve. Shang Qinghua is a man who remembers the important phone numbers qi signatures by heart, and can definitely, easily place a phone call tear the necessary sigil on the talisman while tied up in a car trunk storage crate on a wagon, thank you very much.

And once upon a time, it mattered that Shang Qinghua is a man who knows how to open a car trunk from the inside, but storage crates don't come with safety regulation mandated release levers in Proud Immortal Demon Way.

Well, he'd be insulted if they didn't take him seriously enough to make it difficult for him. But still. Ugh.

There are less scorched-earth ways to go about this, but he's a bit peeved by the whole thing, and honestly? It might be good to remind people that he shouldn't be fucked with.

Obviously he can't tip his hand too far, being a pathetic little worm beneath anyone's notice is half of what normally keeps him out of situations like this, so he needs someone else to be the threat while Shang Qinghua still gets the "don't mess with him" effect of it.

So, anyway, he rings Shen Yuan.

Hey, bro, I've been kidnapped, by humans so I don't want to get my king involved, and — no, it's not a joke, listen — there really isn't time to play this with his best friend/built-in alibi, the talisman has a very limited duration with his qi cabled off, so he cuts to the chase.

There's a box under his bed in the Leisure House. He tells Shen Yuan to go get it. He knows Shen Yuan is a smart guy, but he's not exactly the right person when it comes to... well, what he'd be asking of him.

So he tells Shen Yuan, with the last percent of battery wisp of stored qi in the talisman, to take that box to his brother. It's a pretty random request; it's not like Shang Qinghua has anything to do with the Qing Jing peak lord ever, at all, if he can ever help it. Normally, Shen Yuan would just roll his eyes and shrug it off (and leave Shang Qinghua to his kidnappers, not that he'd notice his best friend was actually gone for at least a couple more days) but the whole thing's just weird enough that it piques his curiosity. He makes a brief call to his brother on his summoning pendant, more like a psychic tap on the shoulder.

Of course that's all it takes for Shen Jiu to drop everything he's doing immediately, and the peak lord goes to Shen Yuan faster than an ambulance. He's... unimpressed that the actual reason for his class's interruption is anything to do with Shang Qinghua.

But, dutifully, Shen Yuan hands Shen Jiu the box.

It's got scrolls and papers and folios on every important, influential, wealthy, powerful, superlative-adjective person in the jianghu and mortal spheres. It's all the dirt. On everyone. Criminal activity (mindfully scrubbed of any Airplane-shaped involvements), affairs, embezzlement, the works. From casual lies caught on tape, to life-ruining scandals in 4k.

Everyone important's dirty laundry. And, for good measure, it's also everyone important's loved ones' dirty laundry, too.

Shen Yuan realizes immediately that he might as well have just handed Shen Jiu nuclear codes. This is, decidedly and without a doubt, the absolute worst person in the world to have this information! What the fuck, Airplane-bro?!

There is a sticky note scrap of paper adhered on top of the box:

In case of emergency!

(ﾉ*ФωФ)ﾉ Give them two days to comply.

(less if they're annoying lol)

It does not matter who kidnapped Shang Qinghua.

Because whoever they are, they are assuredly in that box, and they, and everyone they know, and everyone they work with, and everyone they love are about to have their whole worlds torn apart.

As soon as it gets out that Shen Qingqiu has any kind of access to any amount of this information (and it's fairly immediate for Shen Jiu to buy into whatever fucked up game is going on and "let it slip," and if there's anything that every single sect of the jianghu excels at equally, it's gossip that can move faster than the speed of light), the best anyone can hope for is that he does the responsible thing and gives it to Yue Qingyuan; there is no heaven to save you if he decides to use it himself.

Just like that, everyone who suspects they might be in Shang Qinghua's nightmarish Burn Book is immediately joining in on the planet's scummiest, most self-serving volunteer search party team.

(The kidnappers themselves are, of course, scrambling to comply with demands.)

Shang Qinghua is dropped off, still tied, in an alley in a distant city of the borderlands with a bag over his head, only aware of the mayhem inflicted by his box of receipts by virtue of the frantic arguing he overheard from his kidnappers whilst rattling around like a loose coin in the car trunk storage container.

It's not until the next day that Shang Qinghua is back on An Ding and Shen Jiu returns the box.

Shang Qinghua is a man who knows his own damn handwriting, can tell when he's looking at a box full of copies.

[dodger432101]

A day out! Lux Imperator/Mr Ring-A-Ding x Reader Part 5

It's 7 O'clock and you're already up making breakfast. Why are you out of bed so early? You're going on a trip outside the picture house! You'd spent all of yesterday and the majority of Wednesday in here with Lux. While you have enjoyed your time with him, you stink. And could do with a change of clothes. Neither of those needs can be met in this building. 

Lux is, of course, right by your side as you make yourself a quick meal. A little extra food ‘just so happens’ to ‘fall’ onto your plate, so Lux selflessly offers to help you with that (mostly with any pancakes you made). Ah. You hadn't actually.. told him you were going out today. You'll have to get round to that soon. After breakfast, you decide.

You stand in the kitchen as you eat. No point carrying it out just to bring the plate back in to wash it. Lux is sitting on the counter next to the plate, kicking his legs to the beat of the song playing on the little radio you brought in from the diner. He has his eyes closed as he enjoys a pancake he picked off your plate, a small smile on his face. A God shouldn't be allowed to be this cute. 

The both of you look up at the distant sound of a door opening and closing. Even though you know it could only really be one person entering the building, you can't help but tense slightly. “Relax, sunshine! It's just Mr Pye.” How the hell does he know that? Guess your God was more omnipresent than you realised. Said man strolls into the room shortly after his arrival had been noted, making you and Lux giggle to yourselves. Reginald looks between the cartoon and his employee, a confused look on his face. Nevertheless, he smiles as you wave at him, taking one hand away from the film reel he's clutching to return the gesture. Huh. 

“Good morning, you two! Gosh, I can't believe it's Friday already..” Your boss sighs deeply, walking over to stand next to you. “Not important right now of course. How did it go yesterday, hm?” He nudges your arm gently with his elbow. Right. You learned that your little God loves you, proving Mr Pye had been correct in his hypothesis. You contemplate shoving some food in your mouth to save you from talking to your boss about how the God who had technically kidnapped 15 people in this building does indeed love you and that, despite his misdeeds, you love him too. However one glance at Mr Pye's hopeful expression quickly shuts down that idea. 

“You were right. This time. Don't think that makes you some kind of oracle.” After that you turn away to finish off what's left of your breakfast, not missing the way Reginald bounced on the soles of his feet in his excitement for you. 

“Ah but I told you! I saw what you couldn't, my dear. I don't even know how you could've missed it, he wasn't exactly subtle now was he?” Mr Pye pokes you on the shoulder, making you turn and waft his hand away as he dances back, laughing. You have a little finger sword fight with your boss, trying not to laugh too much and choke on the remaining food on your plate. 

Lux watches your interaction with a fond smile. Anytime he saw you happy he couldn't help but feel a warmth in his chest. Seeing Mr Pye not be so mopey was.. nice too, he supposed. The God of Light could go without having the older man around. He only wanted you. Unfortunately for Lux, your boss knew more about the maintenance of the machines and films than you did. You were just a cleaner, there to sweep up popcorn and other various foods and liquids the general public threw about the picture house. Plus, Mr Pye seemed to like watching films for longer periods than you, sitting in his theatre for just about a whole day, which was good for a God that fed off light. Speaking of..

“Ah, uhm, sir. If you're not too busy today with my employee here, could you perhaps..?” Lux fought with his whole being to not roll his little pie cut eyes as Mr Pye held out that film reel. It'd been one day! Could he not be without that lady wife of his for more than that? 

“Oh, of course Mr Reginald Pye! I'm sure our dear cleaner can find something to do for the duration of that film, eh toots?” Lux turns his head so one of his eyes is only visible to you, sending you a secret wink. God, he wants to do that again?! 

“Actually, I was thinking about taking a trip outside.. I could really do with a change of clothes. Plus we're running low on ingredients for pancakes with all the ones I've been making for a certain little God.” You'd cleared your plate and are now washing up, flicking a drop of water at Lux as you mention him. He doesn't react to it, his eyes fixed on you, his smile gone. 

“You're.. leaving?” 

Mr Pye seems to realise this could turn into a serious conversation and silently leaves the kitchen. “Just for a few hours, sweetheart. You'll be with Mr Pye anyway, you won't even know I'm gone.” You glance at the toon as you dry your plate, his face very much saying ‘I will definitely know you're gone’. You sigh, putting the plate on the rack before you walk up to where your God is sitting on the counter, standing in front of him. He'd turned his head down as you approached, now looking at his hands. “Lux. Come on now, I can't spend all my time in here. Humans need sunlight, fresh air, access to showers. I promise you, I'll be back before it gets dark. Ok?” You cup his chin gently, tilting his head up so you can better see his face. He's pouting, big pleading eyes slowly looking up to you. The lone violin is back to guilt trip you further. As hard as it is, you meet his gaze with a stern look. You're leaving for the day, he's just gonna have to get used to you not being here. 

“But, I.. ok.” Lux’s shoulders sag as he gives in, leaning his head onto your palm like he's trying to merge into your flesh. He didn't like the idea of you leaving, but arguing with you felt even worse. You lean down to give him a kiss on the forehead, his antennae moving to brush against your nose and cheeks separately. As you begin to straighten back up, Lux wraps his thin arms around your neck in a tight hug. After a few minutes, he speaks up again. “Could you get some other things for me while you're out, sunshine?” You pull back from the hug just enough to see his face again, nodding with a warm smile. “I didn't actually get to explore this little planet when I arrived. I've been in here the whole time. I'd like to see more of what this world has to offer!”

“I can work with that. I could get postcards, they usually show pictures of different places. Maybe an atlas..” Pausing that train of thought for now, you give your God another quick kiss before you pull away from him entirely. “I'll see what I can find while I'm out.” This seems to have satisfied Lux. He's smiling again as he hops off the counter, backing up to the door so he can keep facing you. 

“Thank you angel! I better go join Mr Pye before he thinks we're up to something.. naughty.. in here.” He giggles to himself as you roll your eyes. “I'll see you when you get back, sunshine! Love you!!” Lux blows you a kiss and waves, waiting until you return both gestures before he dashes off. 

“Love you too!” You call after the God, hearing his little giggles get quieter and quieter as he runs to the picture house. Well. He took you leaving for the day better than you expected. 

As you make your way to the exit of the building, you make up a list of what you'll do while you're out. First, you'll go home and get clean, put on some new clothes. Then you can go shopping for pancake ingredients and look for stuff that'll show Lux a bit more of the world than this one building has. Maybe even pick up some other treats for the God to try. He seemed to have a bit of a sweet tooth. Right, to-do list mentally made. Let's head out. 

Lux is watching Mr Pye dance with the brought-to-life image of his wife from the projector room. This isn't the first time he's done this, it's where he got the idea of bringing Mr Ring-A-Ding into the world from. He scowls at the thought of that charming cartoon. That wouldn't be happening again. You were his and that little celluloid didn't seem to get that. Lux snaps out of his brooding, turning his focus back to the couple on stage. Maybe he could try dancing with you when you got back. The size difference would be a challenge.. The little God sighs lightly. It's barely been 20 minutes since you were out of his sight and he's been thinking of you the entire time. Seems he has no room to judge Mr Pye now. Lux leans his head on one hand, eyes on the people below but his mind still on you, wondering where you might be right now. 

You're out on the town, having freshened up and gotten dressed. You'd chosen a light flowing dress, seeing as the weather is still as beautiful as it had been all week. Bag in hand, you make your way into a gift shop on the high road. Easiest place to pick up postcards. You get a varied selection that shows off all Miami has to offer, even some with pictures from other states. You also get a little pamphlet about Miami. Can Lux.. read? You assume so, as he managed to pick out the Mr Ring-A-Ding cartoon yesterday. Or he just asked Mr Pye for it. Mentally shrugging, you pay and head off to the nearby grocery store. 

The God of Light is practically falling asleep in the projector room. After their little dance, the Pyes started having a conversation. That was 15 minutes ago and they're still talking. Lux stretches his arms with a quiet groan. “Gosh, how much could a dead woman have to say?” He looks at the clock in the room. You've been gone nearly an hour. What's taking you so long? His head is now resting on his arms, eyes forward as he begins to worry about you. Did something happen? Were you hurt, out there, where he couldn't help you? What was happening to him? Lux lowers himself onto the floor as his breathing quickens, arms wrapping around his legs as his thoughts swarmed. He was panicking and he hated it. Gods didn't worry like this about humans, or anything. Gods didn't care. This God did, for one little human, and he was terrified of the thought of losing you. 

You've gotten what you need to make pancakes and are now looking around the shop for other treats for Lux. Chocolate, sure. Chewy sweets, well he didn't have to worry about cartoon teeth. You hope. Maybe your little God would like fruit. You pick out some strawberries, peaches and apricots. You and Mr Pye could always eat them if Lux didn't want them. As you look for other snacks you could buy, an all too familiar voice calls to you. 

“Hey there dolly! Gosh ain't this weather beautiful?” Oh dear god it's your co-worker. The reason you no longer work weekends at Palazzo. This guy.. well, he wasn't all that bad. Most people would even think he was a nice, charming lad. The problem was, he was a nice, charming lad. And liked to try to use that charm on you, -you, who’s older than him- all the time. It didn't help that this strange feeling of dread would rise in your chest every time he spoke to you, like every female ancestor you had was warning you about him. “Though you probably don't need tellin’ about the weather. You know everything about beauty don’tcha?” God that line was awful. You put on the best smile you can while your heart races like you're a rabbit staring down a hungry wolf.  

“Oh.. heeeyy. Fancy seein’ you here.” Your eyes are darting around for an escape route. Clothes shop over the road. That'll do. “Look it's lovely seeing you..” You have to swallow down the sarcasm that tries to worm its way into that sentence. “But I have to grab some uh, clothes. A.. friend from highschool had a, uh, a baby!” You dart past him, fighting a shudder as your shoulders brush. Though it seems luck was not on your side at all right now as you hear his footsteps follow you. 

“Oh, sweet! Tell your friend congrats for me. I'll help ya pick out some nice clothes for them!” Why was fate so cruel to you at times? 

Lux is shaking at this point. It's been over an hour now. You're still not back. Why weren't you back? The worried little God was so stuck in his mind he didn't hear Mr Pye say goodbye to his wife, or the door open as he entered the room, or the cautious footsteps of the man approaching. He jumps as the projector clicks off, looking up at the only human other than you that was allowed to come and go from the picture house as they pleased (after they asked his permission). “You're missing her something awful, ain't you?” Mr Pye slowly gets closer to the God of Light, sliding down to sit next to him. Lux doesn't respond, only hugs his legs tighter to his body. “What’s got you shaking like a leaf in a storm? You.. worried about her?” The cartoon nods after a few second pause. Reginald hums at that, looking around the room as he thinks. “Yeah.. guess that's the difference between us. You Gods exist so far from us, you're not used to the idea of something so finite. Even so,” Mr Pye hesitantly places his hand on Lux’s shoulder. “I know that woman. She's not one to step in front of something dangerous. And she ain't made of glass. She'll be just fine. The world’s big and mighty scary at times, but most of the time? Calm as anything. You haven't got anything to worry yourself sick over.” 

Lux loosens the grip on his legs, unfolding himself as he spreads his legs out. “She'll be back soon, right?” Mr Pye nods, a knowing smile on his face. He waited for his wife to return home, after all.

“Exactly. She'll walk right back in, bag full of all sorts of treats for you, I'm sure. You're not the only one in love after all.” He squeezes the God’s shoulder reassuringly. “I know this must be quite new for ya. Having to worry about a soul that can die. What we humans do is enjoy all the time we have with ‘em, make as many happy memories as we can to remember our loved ones by. As sad as you are when they're gone.. you remember their happiness. And it helps, even just a little bit.” Lux has stopped shaking. He looks up at Mr Pye and gives the man a small smile. “I know you don't want to think about it, but.. she's not gonna be around forever. You're gonna have to do as we do; make the time you have with her count. ‘Cause it's gone so fast..” Lux nods at that.

“I plan to, Mr Pye. Every second with her, I'll remember it.”

Bag full of food, postcards and now clothes, you drag yourself back in the direction of Palazzo. Of course, some higher being wants you to suffer a teensy bit more today. Your co-worker has nowhere to be and so follows after you, rambling about something you really don't care about. At least you used the baby excuse to get some cute little outfits for Lux. If he could wear clothes. If he can eat and interact with you, surely clothes should work on him too. You also picked up some for yourself, might as well have some change of clothes in there. Your mood lifts as the sight of the picture house comes into view. Subconsciously you speed up, both ready to relax and ready to get the hell away from this guy. “Hey doll, we're heading to Palazzo. Ain't your place down that way?” 

You're so annoyed by your coworker's.. everything that your brain skips right over the fact that this creep knows where you live. “Yeah, I picked up some stuff for Mr Pye. He gave me the money for it.” Not too far now, you're nearly there. 

“Ah right. Man, I could go another day without being cooped up in there. Weekends come all too quickly. Though you're probably happy about that, huh?” 

How could you have forgotten? He works tomorrow and Sunday. He's gonna be in there for two days, unaware of the God of Light roaming the theatres. You're going to have to be there to stop Lux from killing the guy (as tempting as it sounded to be rid of him). You come up with a quick excuse for being in Palazzo the next two days. “Usually I would be, but Mr Pye said it's gonna be busy this weekend. Some big showing or somethin’. Wants me working too.” The man's excitement is practically audible. 

“Gosh, he's got you working all 7 days?! Least you'll be in with me, eh?” Ew Ew Ew Ew Ew. Luckily you've gotten to the door, so you just nervously chuckle and try to make it seem like you're not throwing the door open. You turn and wave to him, thanking him for walking you back. “‘course Darlin'! See you tomorrow, then!” He winks at you and waves before walking off, leaving you to shut the door and lock it before he comes up with any excuse to come back to talk to you. You let out a deep sigh of relief, putting your bag down to stretch your limbs. Thank god you were back. 

“Sunshine!!!” The shout of your little God nearly makes you jump. Seconds later Lux comes sprinting over, barrelling into you as he latches on to your legs, the force of the impact nearly knocking you back. “Angel, you were gone for so long! I'm so so glad you're back!” Releasing the God’s grip from your legs, you pick him up into one arm, using your free hand to carry your bag. 

“Oh, Lux. I wasn't even gone for two hours, sweetheart.” You give him multiple kisses to make up for being gone so very long. “I've gotten plenty of stuff for you to look over and try out. Some food and clothes! Might be nice to have a change from that little outfit.” You walk down to your projector room, setting the bag on the table as Lux now clings to your neck. You're too busy going through everything you bought to notice him sniff the shoulder you'd bumped into your coworker's, a glare forming before he rubs his cheek on it to get rid of the stranger’s scent. Thinking he's just being affectionate you giggle, hugging him closer to you. That makes the little God happy again. “Gosh, I sure worked up a hunger out there. Want to try some of these fruits, Hun?” 

You, Lux and Mr Pye sit on the stage of your theatre, enjoying an indoor picnic together. Turns out the God of Light had a varied taste palette. He hoovered up all the fruit put in front of him and was now munching his way through the pancakes you had made. It was a miracle you and your boss had any food for yourselves. Once he'd eaten his way through all of that, Lux looked up at you with big eyes. “There's more in the kitchen.” At that he races off, on the hunt for more pancakes. 

“Who'd think a God of Light would love food so much?” Mr Pye mumbles just loud enough for you to hear, making the both of you laugh. You're half way through chewing a piece of fruit when you remember who you'd seen today. Probably best to let your boss know ahead of time. 

“I.. ran into the weekend cleaner.” Mr Pye freezes at that. Seems he also had forgotten about the one member of staff who hadn't encountered Lux yet. “Umm.. I may have forgotten to mention the God in the building.”

“How do you forget to mention something like that?!” 

“How was I supposed to mention it?! ‘Yeah don't come into work tomorrow, we just have the God of Light in, he's not a fan of people! Except me though, loves me more than anything!.’” 

Your boss sighs heavily, running a hand down his face. “Lux will hate him, actually hate that guy, you know that right? I remember the way he used to speak to you.” You grimace and nod. “Maybe.. It'll be fine. You'll be here, you can reel in Lux if he gets agitated. Hopefully he'll just scare the poor kid out and that'll be it.” Something told you it would be far from that simple. Mr Pye lets out another sigh, getting up slowly. “Well, anyway. It's tomorrow's problem. I'm going back to my theatre, see if there's anything that needs checking over.” He gives a quick thumbs up, as if to calm your nerves, before leaving. 

Lux comes shooting into the room not long after Mr Pye’s departure, a plate piled up with pancakes in his hands. “You weren't kiddin’ about there being more! Good thing I don't really have a stomach or anything!” He giggles, sitting himself in your lap as he returns to eating. You lean your head on the top of his, nose wrinkling as his antennae bend backwards to brush against it. Wonder if that's subconscious or not. “You wanna watch a film or something, sunshine? You can pick! I'll even suffer through a Ring-A-Ding cartoon! Just.. don't expect him to come jumping out the screen this time.” 

You chuckle as you run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, making the God lean back into you. “Sure Hun. I could do with a sit down after all the walking I did. We can have a look at the postcards and other things I got after.” Lux nods at that, his mouth full. You contemplate on telling him about the visitor coming tomorrow as he makes his way through the pancakes. “Lux, sweetheart..” You start as he finishes the plate, wrapping an arm around him to take it off of him. He turns in your lap, looking up at you with a cute little face. “There's a uh.. weekend cleaner that's going to come in tomorrow and the day after. I'll still be here, so don't worry about that. I just need you to.. not trap him in film or anything, alright? You can scare him out of you want, I'm fine with that. Just no trapping.” 

To your surprise, Lux nods almost instantly. “Ok angel! Anyway, what film do you wanna watch?” You blink at that. Huh. That was easier than expected. He really did listen to you. You decide on a Ring-A-Ding cartoon, Lux giving you a look that says ‘you just picked that to make me dance, didn't you?’. The smile you give him in return confirms it. Still, he gets off your lap so you can stand before you sit back down on one of the theatre seats. Lux waits on the stage, snapping his fingers once you're settled. The projector clicks to life and the Ring-A-Ding film from yesterday begins to play. As your God dances along to his carbon copy on the screen, you relax into your seat with a smile. Maybe the next two days won't be too hectic.

[Hoooo boy, that coworker is gonna clash with ol' Lux. I'm sure nothing too bad with happen. hehehe. Don't worry dear reader, you'll get the best from this situation ;)]

[marginofthought]

Sam getting “D” tattooed on him while away at stanford cause he’s missing dean so bad and after all this time with dean not as much as call him he lost the hope of seeing him again so what are the chances of dean seeing it or someone figuring it out

Then Dean crashed into his life again and with all the grief, thoughts and need for dean in his mind so he totally forget that he has a tattoo that’s not supposed to be seen by dean on their first time together … and Dean SEES IT ………..

Oh god, I like that, anon and I really shouldn't start another WIP about it (watch me do it anyway) but here's a drabble:

“So what’s the D for?” Jessica asked, idly tracing along Sam’s upper back while he was laying on his stomach in her bed. It was probably not the first time she had seen him, judging by the amount of times she had seen him naked but she had never asked before and Sam had been grateful for that. 

He stiffened up, starting to roll to his back but she held him back, surprisingly powerful.

“It’s just-”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry, Sam,” she said in a calm voice, almost like he was a spooked animal and maybe he was. 

“You don’t have to explain,” she stopped him. “It’s personal, I get it.”

Sam nodded and sighed, trying to relax back into the bed now that he could keep his secret once more.

–

A hot and slippery finger traced over the tattoo and now Sam froze too. He stopped breathing, his spine stiff and his hole clenching. 

The next time someone askdc him about his tattoo it wasn't Sam who froze initially. Dean had been in the motion of pushing his cock inside Sam when Sam let his head hang, freeing his neck and making Dean freeze. 

“I-”

“Sammy?”

They spoke over one another, not moving, not getting anywhere.

“Is that-”

“It’s no-”

Dean took charge as always and pushed in balls deep in one motion, making Sam lose his breath.

“So what’s better? Having me on your skin or inside you?” 

Sam let his head hang again, choosing not to reply. 

–

“So?” Dean asked, tracing the letter in an eerily familiar move. 

“What?” Sam mumbled, fucked out and sleepy on Dean’s chest. 

“Y’know, needed someone to watch my back,” he mumbled into Dean’s skin, sleep taking over and making him miss the way Dean’s face fell at the implications as well as the possessive squeeze.

“The D?”

“Oh,” Sam said quietly. “Needed something to remind me of you after you stopped answering the phone,” Sam admitted, feeling ashamed but too fucked out to care. 

[eboni-napalm]

𝕊𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕋𝕠 𝕄𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕝 -- [𝟙]

SUMMARY: You've always been drawn to him, even when you knew you shouldn't be. But time passed, situations changed. You found yourself in his presence more often. Welcoming it. Craving it, even. And despite the burning, screaming sensation in the back of your head telling you that everything about this was so very wrong... ...you'd be a fool to deny that what your heart wanted was so very right.

aka; the five times when your nerves couldn't accept The Ring General's advances, and the one time where you finally embraced them. -- WORD COUNT: 3,489

WARNINGS: None for this chapter.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not sorry. I had to. This has been a long time coming,  I just needed to have my motivation come back properly so I could finally get off my ass and write something for this man because good LORD, I am in love and I am a whore.

TAGLIST: @eringobragh420 || @void-detective || @moonlight1254 (If you'd like to be added to be informed of future chapters, please let me know!)

The first time you truly met him in person, face to face, your heart was already racing a mile a minute- but not because of his presence.

You'd been aware of his existence for a number of years now- after all, with where you came from when you started wrestling, who wouldn't? The man formerly known as WALTER, now going by Gunther, was a man personified by years of discipline and grit, molded by pride and prestige, dripping with power and dominance. And while you never actually had the opportunity to cross paths with him directly, you'd heard from enough of your coworkers in NXT (and its UK subdivision that you had been a part of before the two merged together) to know just how much of an intimidating threat he was in the ring as well as outside of it. The very thought of even locking eyes with him on pure accident alone made you nervously swallow the lump that formed in your throat every time it came up.

But never in your nearly three decades of living could you have ever imagined what would happen when that day finally arrived.

Your time in the developmental brand had come to an end- meaning, you'd been one of the few sought-after people that the main roster had their eyes on, and you had been called up to RAW in the draft alongside your long-time best friend, Ilja Dragunov. The two of you became fast friends during both of your stints in NXT, each reigning as the top of your respective divisions with simultaneous Championship runs that only ended due to your inevitable rise to bigger and better opportunities. The Mad Dragon was the first name called from the list of your coworkers' names; you remember smiling from ear to ear as he grabbed your face and planted a firm kiss on your cheek before rising up from his seat and approaching Shawn after the initial shock had worn off. It didn't take too much more time before your name was announced as the next call-up, covering your mouth in elation as your dearest companion wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gave your bicep a squeeze in congratulations. And so, the two of you made your first appearance the next Monday night together, you trying as hard as possible to hide the metaphorical stars twinkling in your eyes- especially after finding out that both of you would be competitors in the respective King and Queen of the Ring tournaments. 

Somebody need to pinch you, you had to be dreaming.

You watched on with a broad smile as Ilja waltzed through a near Match of the Year contender bout with Ricochet, cheering louder than nearly everyone else in the back with you when he picked up the victory. Not quite an hour later, you'd done the same over Shayna Baszler, surprisingly pinning the Queen of Spades after a grueling match of your own. Riding the high of your first victory, you wanted to be as close to the action of your best friend's match as possible- and so, you found yourself accompanying him to his backstage interview about what was to come with his next match against Jey Uso. While you were clad in just a simple black tank top and skinny jeans, Ilja was in his full regalia; fur-trimmed red and gold cloak, white ring gear, and all. Just hearing him speak in his always present passionate and fiery yet elegant manner always brought a smile to your face.

And just as he was about to reach the pinnacle of his declarations for victory, you felt the air around you shift. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end, and an unconscious shiver shot up your spine. Then, you swore you sensed something- or rather, someone- standing close by. Very close by.

Immediately, you turned your head to the right, and you had to seriously fight the widening of your eyes at the person you saw next to you.

It was him.

Not quite a foot taller than you, short brown hair in a crisp crew-cut style, broad shoulders, the soft aroma of a simultaneously sweet and musky cologne dancing languidly with your sense of smell to the point where it nearly made your head spin. You caught yourself staring longer than you should have at him; more specifically, his arms- hugged beautifully flush by the sleeves of a tight, navy blue shirt to the point where you wouldn't blame yourself for thinking that the cotton material appeared painted on his skin from a distance. Head held high, but not too high- he blurred the line between arrogance and confidence so well that you weren't quite certain which one to describe him as, even though he had the skills and ability to back up said confidence or arrogance. Chiseled jawline, strong and sharp; it accented the rest of his features perfectly. You could see the low glint in his deep hazel eyes, which appeared to be narrowed ever so slightly, though it probably only looked that way with the angle his head was tilted to stare at your best friend- who had since now noticed his presence as well, boring defiantly into his gaze with a furrowed brow and tightened jaw. When the Mad Dragon's breathing became slightly more audible through his nostrils, you slowly moved into both of their lines of sight, resting a hand on the your long-time best friend's shoulder before you too, finally met the taller man's gaze, and your heart skipped at beat.

Gunther had also entered the King of the Ring Tournament; in fact, he was the first one to declare himself for it, and you knew for a fact that he was one of the immediate favorites to win the entire thing. However, the only thing that could keep him from making it all the way to the Finals without struggle or outright fail was one person- and that was Ilja. You were there in person for both of their bouts for the NXT UK Championship back during the pandemic era, and to this day, those matches still live vividly in your head. There was not a single doubt in your mind that Ilja was still the only person in the company that truly gave the leader of Imperium a run for his money every time he stepped foot in the ring... but even so, even with Ilja's unbreakable will and unmatched tenacity, he wasn't invincible. For the one man who could also beat him down was right in front of him-

And now he was staring at you.

The weight of his gaze eyeing you up in any capacity made your breath hitch and you mentally kicked yourself for having that reaction. The longer your eyes stayed locked on each other, the more you were able to deduce the look he was giving you- the Ring General seemed to be taking in your appearance, that much was for sure, but... he wasn't looking down at you. He wasn't perceiving you as an immediate threat, but also not some sort of nuisance, either. In fact, he seemed to almost be... studying you. Remembering you. Even though you'd never truly, formally met until this very moment. You knew him. He knew you. 

And then, the ends of his mouth curved upwards in what seemed to be a mix of a smirk and a smile, a soft exhale disguised as a chuckle escaping him. 

You hated the fact that the respective sight and sound made your cheeks flush pink with a vast flux of emotions. Annoyance, embarrassment, attraction- you inwardly smacked yourself upside the head at the very inclination of the thought, unconsciously digging your nails into the palm of your hand to stop yourself from letting even an ounce of that sensation come back to you. Stop. None of that.

Only then did his gaze fall back to Ilja, and with a slow, curt nod, he finally turned and walked away. 

The breath that you hadn't realized you had been holding finally fell past your lips in a heavy sigh, your shoulders finally relaxing as the handsome blonde man to your left moved to gently pat your back. "We should probably start collecting ourselves while we have the chance," he spoke, his gentle voice immediately calming and soothing the ringing in your ears. "My main event match isn't for another two bouts, but I'm sure both of us would want me to be fully ready for tonight."

With a smile, you nodded back at him with a nod of affirmation, following him back to your shared locker room for the last-minute preparations. But while you appeared back to your usual self on the outside, one nagging, lingering thought that still remained in the back of your head just wouldn't go away.

He was even more handsome in person.

--

The first time you were able to speak to him one-on-one, you nearly wanted to disappear into the floor after the words you said left your mouth.

It was a somewhat unfortunate circumstance that led up to that particular day- Ilja had lost his match to Jey, putting on the fight of his life as he always did, but luck just wasn't on his side. You, on the other hand, were almost certain there was a guardian angel smiling down on you for the last two weeks, for you had managed to get the best of Iyo Sky with a submission win in your Quarterfinals match, and somehow even won your Semifinals match against the incredible Lyra Valkyria, pulling out a pinfall victory over her by the skin of your teeth. However, even someone as strong and technically gifted as yourself couldn't put a stop to the woman fittingly dubbed, 'The Irresistible Force', and Nia Jax had ended your early winning streak with surprising authority, bringing your dreams of becoming Queen of the Ring to a violent, screeching halt.

To no one's surprise, especially your own, Gunther had also made it to the Finals for the men's bracket without much struggle or doubt- and of course, he emerged victorious over everyone else, and despite the controversy that hovered over his victory (which you secretly chose to ignore), could now rightfully call himself King of the Ring.

You'd been sitting backstage watching the remainder of the event with a few others, having finally shed your head-to-toe ring gear ensemble (you understood the laws and restrictions for women's clothing coverage in Saudi Arabia, but still weren't a fan of them either way) and changed into a much more comfortable look of a mesh-sleeved bodysuit and flowy silk pants to let your skin breathe and get some much needed fresh air while still fitting in with the dress code. When the man in previous mention stood tall after his match with Randy Orton, crown held high as the celebratory pyro exploded in a dancing flurry of bright red and gold fireworks, you almost found yourself wanting to applaud him- but stopped yourself at the last minute, not wanting to risk having several sets of possibly questioning and judgmental eyes on you if you did so.

When the show had concluded and everyone else had begun to disperse to gather their bags and other belongings, you found yourself lingering around in one of the backstage hallways, almost as if taking your time before you too went to grab your suitcase. The pure instinct to just not follow the others immediately to the rental vehicles to head back to the resort hotel and stay where you were- you yourself knowing full well why you had remained there- infuriated you, made you feel stupid, made you feel almost physically sick. 

Were you actually doing this? Resorting to this tactic just to get a single glimpse of a man who, despite knowing who you were, quite possibly wouldn't bother to give you the time of day? 

You were pulled from your self-deprecating thoughts by the sound of footsteps echoing against the small metal staircase that was attached to the entrance back in Gorilla, turning your head just in time for your stomach to leap up into your throat at the sight of the Ring General emerging from the curtains. His breathing was steady but still somewhat labored, a thin sheen of perspiration painted on his skin, which almost seemed to glow under the hallway lights. His familiar trademark trench coat was slung over one arm, the golden crown that signified his victory being held in the other, and a small white cloth was slung over his shoulders. You watched as he slowed his pace and came to a stop by a currently unused equipment case, placing the coat and crown on top of it before pausing to run the cloth over his damp hair and face, his lips falling open slightly with a long exhale. 

God forbid you'd admit out loud that the sight of that made your pulse drum against your throat.

After he'd dried off his shoulders, forearms, and most of his upper chest, he gently placed the cloth back around his neck, an arm reaching out to grab the coat before he started walking back down the hall, and only then you realized- most likely by accident, he'd left the crown.

You took the chance.

Removing yourself from your spot against the wall, you strode towards the abandoned cargo container, gingerly picking the golden object up in your hands- realizing that it was much heavier than it looked- and taking only a split second to eye it up before you nervously turned and followed the tall man in a brisk walk, hoping to catch up with him in time. Compared to his, your footsteps were much lighter and more quiet, as well as not quite able to match his pace, and you knew you wouldn't be able to reach him by simply trailing after him alone. And so, you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, screwing your eyes shut for a moment before you opened your mouth.

"Gunther!"

The sound of your voice calling out his name finally made him stop and turn around, locking eyes with your smaller, pretty frame as you too, froze in place. For what seemed like an hour but was maybe no more than a couple of seconds, the air around you was unbearably quiet, comparable to a thick fog that clouded your brain as he stared at you with that familiar intense hazel gaze that you first saw not even three weeks ago. The way his skin still seemed to shine under the soft glare of the lights on the ceiling, the definition of the muscles of his bare arms more visible because of it, a single bead of sweat trickling down the outline of his strong collarbone, to his chest, and further down... down... down...

Attempting to ease and lift the lingering silence, you allowed a small smile to grace your lips, holding the crown out to him with one hand and did your best to let your body relax as you spoke with a lightly cheeky tone. "You dropped this, King."

Your comment seemed to do the trick; the Austrian's broad shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as his mouth curved into an almost invisible smirk and approached you with slow footsteps until he was just over a foot away from you, reaching to take the golden object from your hand in an uncharacteristically gentle manner. "Ah, thank you," he mused in response, and you had to steady yourself at the sound of his accent-laced baritone voice reaching your ears in such close proximity; it was heavy and smooth, laced with the faintest hint of an exhausted rasp that made your senses go haywire. He caught you staring- possibly thinking it was the crown, from what you wanted to assume- and he brought it back into your line of sight as it rested in his hands. "Pretty, isn't it?" He asked you, his voice somewhat hushed as his gaze met yours once again.

He wasn't wrong. Now that you were able to have the chance to truly take in the beauty of the King of the Ring trophy in its full glory, your eyes lit up at the blinding gleam of the solid gold crown, accented by a seemingly endless arrangement of small clear and gold crystals that surrounded the base and sparkled with the mirrored vibrancy of nearly a thousand rainbows. The curves toward the top were accented with more white crystals, and beautifully cut diamonds that were about the size of your small, perfectly manicured nails were inlaid at the tips. On top of that, a gold engraving of the WWE company logo was pressed perfectly into the center of the crown on both sides. You couldn't deny it was absolutely breathtaking.

Gently, almost in a feather touch, you ran two digits along one of the curved tips, the gold metal cool and smooth under your fingers. "I suppose this means you'll also be calling yourself the King General now, right?" You asked him in not quite a whisper, your smile still small but very much visible as you lifted your head up to face him better, not wanting to admit that you were aware of just how almost flirtatious your words sounded.

In response, Gunther's smirk widened slightly and he let out a breathy chuckle, as if matching your unconsciously coy energy. "Perhaps I might," he responded, the whites of his teeth visible as he grinned at you. "It's certainly fitting. But, let's be honest-" with a pause, he raised the crown up and gestured to it with his other hand in a subdued flourish. "I don't need this to add to my status, I already know for a fact that I'm the best."

There it was again; that blurred line between confidence and cockiness that was a significant part of his character. Still, you tilted your head slightly to the right, one eyebrow raised as the smile still remained on your face. "So sure of yourself," you murmured, a hint of good-natured sarcasm present in your tone.

Your words weren't replied to immediately like before, but you knew for certain that you wouldn't have the last word in this conversation. You blinked, and then realized that he was closer to you than he had been before, having lessened the gap of space between where you both stood by about half a foot, leaning down and forward to where you were in a position where you could brush your arm against his if you moved even an inch. The scent of his skin, mixed with his natural aroma and the familiar hints of sandalwood and something else that was so significantly him making you so wonderfully light-headed the longer you remained in his presence. "Oh, believe me, hübsches Dame," his voice had lowered in volume but had now taken on a somewhat darker tone, dripping with intrigue and enticement that made you simultaneously shrink back but also lean in to meet him all at once, his smirk widening in response to your body's instincts as he moved in to barely- just barely- grazed the shell of your ear with his lips as he whispered to you. "If there's one thing I'm certain you will know come to know very well about me, if you don't already... I am always sure of myself."

With that, he slowly, finally pulled back from where he stood and took a step back, but not before giving you one more confident smirk and accenting it with a slow wink before he turned away and walked down the hall, turning to round the corner towards his designated locker room and disappearing from sight.

Eyes fluttering closed with a shudder, you let out a long breath that you hadn't even realized you had been holding, one of your hands shooting up to touch at the side of your face he was so, so very close to as the other grabbed a fistful of your bodysuit where your heart would be, feeling it thud wildly against your chest. For several minutes, you were stuck in place, feeling glued to the floor from that interaction- as short as it was, Gunther had left such an impact on you and your state of mind that you knew for a fact he would be talking to you more often.

You felt your blood running hot through your veins, knowing that it wasn't just that fact combined with the Saudi summer heat that made sure you would need an ice cold shower tonight.

It was one other thing. One specific bit from the last sentence he spoke that wouldn't leave you, no matter how hard you tried to force it to go away.

He called you pretty.

And that was the most damning thing of all.

-- (1. hübsches Dame - pretty girl/pretty lady.)

[muletia]

ok this is really long, I'm sorry. so I remembered someone had an idea for the reader in the merformer au to be "rescued" so imagine they're taken from Optimus and their guppy. so they escape from people interested in how they changed to being more mer like from the bonding. and now they're like Odysseus spending the next few years fighting to get back to their wife, optimus. the reader runs into other mers and maybe some of them are interested in them? the reader isn't fully aquatic but has some enhanced strength from the bond changing them so they can actually stand a chance against them bc we know they would get demolished as a full human lol. maybe Megatron is like Poseidon, chasing the reader as they try to avoid him. at first he's going after them bc they mention being close with Optimus and he's like "oh I could kill them or kidnap them to use it against him". then seeing the reader's ferocity, is like "oh damn, I'm keeping them for myself". then starscream is circle, he hears about Megan's interest in the reader and wants to keep his trine safe from the human, so he tries to fight the reader but loses so he goes fuck it, I can take them, just not in a fight and tries to rizz the reader up, but like Ody in There Are Other Ways, they just go "no I can't... ugh I miss my wife, it's been so long since I've seen him and I love him so much ❤️❤️" he's like "ew that's disgusting but ig I'll kinda help since it'll piss off Megatron". so he gives u some vague directions for how to find the og mer island since that's where Optimus was at. back there maybe ratchet is trying to encourage Optimus to leave and bring the guppy to a new pod, since it looks like you won't be coming back and the guppy shouldn't be isolated to this island with a depressed sire. Optimus is super against it and he knows you'll come back to him and your baby. cut back to the reader, what are they up to, uh oh looks like they're being held captive by coral snake naga knockout. he's Calypso, a naga that lost his mate and was stranded on an island after being washed too far out to sea in a storm. he's desperate for attention and becomes obsessively attached to the reader. so after months of barely being able to get a moment alone, they secretly make a raft and pull an Appetite and make a run for it. sorry KO. they finally are within sight of the island and boom, Megs pulls up like sike bitch. so they have a big confrontation and maybe the reader beats him some and gets it across to him that they will never be with him. if he took them they'd fight every second of the way. so he maybe has some respect for this warrior and leaves them to go home. when they're home they have a Would You Fall In Love With Me Again moment where they apologize for being gone for like 5 years maybe? definitely not 20 like the Odyssey, but a good amount of time and I don't think optimus would survive a decade or more lmao. Optimus would ofc forgive them and says he'd always loved them. then they're a happy family. I just think we should have a full spectrum of reader: moron to badass

-💕

Average Tuesday in an x reader land

No, but this is genuinely great! It’s hard for me to add much, since I’m not too familiar with the source material, but I really love the concept of Optimus as your waiting wife hehe

Oh, I can totally imagine how, once you finally return to him, he kisses every single inch of your face and refuses to let go of you for the next few weeks. You’re completely grounded trapped between his torso, your little guppy, and Optimus’s arm

[growth-opportunities]

"I'm not sure if it was because I wanted to grow, or because I could actually grow that made me sure... Made my transition a piece of cake though."

"You know those moments where, you know, a kid is watching an Olympic figure skater or a ballerina or a press conference with an astronomer or whatever and they have that crystalizing thought of 'that's what I want to be when I grow up?' I had that moment, too. Except, instead of a random public figure, it was my older sister's best friend, and instead of seeing her achievements in athletics or academics, I watched her grow.

"I guess technically it was athletics; she had been on her high school's grow team, but she was just showing off. My after school club had been cancelled, so I had gotten home a bit early, though just in time to see Nara blowing up her tits. I had always harbored a bit of a crush on Nara, with her dark eyeliner and her septum piercing and the shock of red in her black hair, but my fascination with what I was seeing went beyond that. When I saw her tits growing, swelling, not just through the course of nature but through her sheer force of will... fuck. It just awoke something in me. I wanted that. I wanted to be able to do that.

"It seemed especially impossible since, at the time, I was still presenting as a (slightly effeminate) boy. I was kinda in denial about transitioning, for whatever reason thinking oh, it would be nice if I could do that, but that's not for me. It was really the idea of joining a growth team and training to grow that even made me consider the possibility of starting to transition. It's kinda funny, in hindsight. Like, I really went at it like it was no big deal, like there wasn't really a reason why I couldn't be the first cisman to become a competitive titty grower. I read every book that I could, watched interviews with competitive growers, even probed Nara for some tips. She knew long before I did, but she was kind enough to let me crack my egg on my own. We actually got really close during that time, to the point that she's now, officially, my girlfriend!

"Anyway, back then I did everything I could: practicing, studying, changing my diet. For a long time, I couldn't tell if there was any growth just because I was softening up in general. And then, I still remember it, one day it was just like fwoomp! There was no denying this growth. I had tits! Real, full, bouncy tits. Right on the cusp between B and C cups. I looked at down at them, looked at them in the mirror, gave 'em a little jiggle and just went 'okay, right, so I'm for sure a girl'. Crazy, in hindsight, that that's what it took, but I've been so much happier for it since.

"Now I keep my tits around a DD, putting just a bit of low pressure behind them to keep them from shrinking back down and to keep them looking full. Nara loves them and she loves taking credit for them, too. More than that, though, she loves encouraging me. She was my first encouragement, after all, and she loves pushing me to see how big I can get. I never did pursue competitive growth, but I still manage to top out at a pretty high level; my most recent max was around a V cup. Not bad for someone whose assigned gender shouldn't have them at all!

"Nara likes to do ahem some other things with them, too, but I don't think that'd be super appropriate to print in your magazine."

[evecolourshock]

I... had a fic idea. You're welcome.

Tron tries to see any of Dyson in the face he's presented with. It's more disconcerting that he can't.

That's Dyson's frame. Dyson's face. Dyson's eyes downcast and fixed on the floor.

But not Dyson.

"You fucked up a perfectly good Monitor, is what you did." The words fall from Tron's mouth unbidden. He doesn't take them back.

Clu puffs up, indignant and offended.

Dyson- there. A glimmer of Dyson in the shell of Tron's SIC.

Tron forces himself to his feet - he shouldn't be standing, not with the gaping wound in his chest and the slash far too close to his neck. If he's not careful, his head could simply... fall off. Tron finds right now he doesn't care.

"You fucked up my SIC. He was perfect the way he was, if injured because I messed up, and you went and ruined him." Tron hisses, jabbing a finger at Clu. "I was working around Flynn so I could get his User here to heal him, and what did you do?" He snarls. "What did you do? You broke him. Who even knows if he can be fixed now."

Clu tries to start talking. Tron flips him off, reaches to gently tug Dyson away from the golden Admin.

"Come on Dyson." Tron coaxes quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I wanted to make sure what I was trying to do would work so I didn't hurt you with false hope."

Tron doesn't act like this when he's on duty or around Flynn, he knows. Always the prim and proper Monitor. But he's not on duty now - may never be again, given his wounds - and Flynn isn't in range. He can afford to let that persona go.

The first step Dyson takes has Tron's core soaring - still Dyson in those mostly dead eyes. It plummets when Clu yanks Dyson back and he disappears from that shell again. Tron hears Dyson's armour creak under Clu's hand - just how much pain must Dyson be in, trapped like that? Caged in his own frame somehow, strangled by something Tron can't identify, pinned with a grip like a vice.

"Give me back my SIC." Tron rumbles, low and sharp. His Admin versus his friend... his only hesitation comes from whether he can kill Clu without hurting Dyson. Tron is very good at killing Admins who've made themselves threats.

Clu is still talking. Tron's long past listening.

His disc drops into his hand again, and he knows what he has to do with it. Tron's a more... direct fighter, most of the time. Shows off in Games, of course, because they're not serious fights. But when doing his job... normally, he's quick, efficient, and takes his enemies out without fancy flourishes.

Ram taught him how to use his disc to pull off impossible shots. Sark proved to him it's possible to remote-guide one's disc, if the first shot doesn't work and it's still flying.

Tron flicks his disc sideways, sensing it sail up and reflect off two walls before curving around on a collision course with Clu.

Clu moves one hand to Dyson's neck. Tron glimpses his friend's fear-

Tron dives for Dyson, pulling his SIC to the ground. His disc jerks downwards sharply, still in flight-

Slams into Clu's dock. Said part's nowhere near as solid as Sark's big head.

Tron covers as much of Dyson as he can, braced for any retaliatory strikes if he failed. "It's okay." He soothes quietly, cushioning Dyson's head and disc. "It's okay. You'll be okay." His disc clatters to the floor... somewhere. Close, but nowhere he can grab it.

Dyson's eyes flicker, trying to reboot - Clu must be destroyed, then, like the MCP before him. He's seeking an authority, someone to lead him and the Grid, and needs to reboot so he can set a new one. It's... not a good sign he's struggling to.

"I'm here." Tron offers, pushing some of his flagging energy into Dyson's system, trying to help. "I'm here, Dyson. You can reboot, it's okay. I'll keep you safe. Better than I did."

Dyson manages to at least start a reboot, limp and lax under Tron. His circuits almost immediately bleed white again, truncated and re-routed but closer to his own.

Tron pushes himself up carefully, manages to pick Dyson up with only a little bit of pain, and slinks off towards an alcove he can use to protect them both. The rest of the guards are also mid-reboot, Tron has a few precious nanos to get to safety. He kicks his disc up on the way, remote-guiding it back to his dock. Can't leave that behind, defeats the point of getting to safety if the most important part is still vulnerable.

"We'll figure it out." He promises Dyson, letting his consciousness slip away once he's sure no one can get to them. "I promise."

"What do you think, Tron? I made Dyson perfect again."

[ratofthenest]

i despise the idea that Tim Drake's character has some sort of huge "problem" arrrgehebeh

for starts, when it comes to Tim the title "Robin" was never a regression or a starting point. unlike Dick and Jason, Tim's character wasn't written to just be "Batman's sidekick" like they were. the whole point is Tim was... perfect. everything Batman could ever need and more on the field.

Dick quit being Robin once he start university, picking up the mantle of Nightwing. Dick started out as Robin REALLY young, and the whole thing was a nickname from his parents. he became Robin to avenge them, and then stayed afterwards to continue to help people. he was a really good Robin, too! there's a reason so many people like him. he's like, what every sidekick dreams of becoming, yk?

similar situation with Jason (but not really?). he starts off a completely different person from how he is portrayed today, and especially after his death? there was no way he could go back to being Robin after all that. Either way, Jason started out with that same REALLY strong sense of justice Dick had (although, let's be honest, Jason has always been a little violent with his delivery of it)

[Side note: these are brief, 2 paragraph overviews and obviously their characters are so much more convoluted than this, but this post aint about them!!]

Tim? Tim doesn't come from a broken background, which sets him apart from the first two Robin's immediately. he starts off with both his parents alive and well, and he's a white rich kid. He didn't have an incentive to become Robin, yet he did it anyway, completely for the sake of "saving" Batman. after Jason flopped with the readers, the writers went ahead and did a 180° with Tim. he was created with the idea of someone who was nearly perfect for the position. someone smart, adaptable, charismatic, and likeable. and hey, it worked really well when he came out, too!

this really makes Tim standout from the other Robins, though. sure, being Robin was definitely a learning process, and it's not like he immediately knew how to do everything right off the bat, but he learned quick! like, really quick! there wasn't necessarily an urgent need for him to take up a new title as a way to show he's "grown up" because he's already mature as hell as is. what's there to progress to when he was literally molded for this?

now, the issue of Red Robin. Tim took up that title in a time of pure crisis. the mantle was born out of grief, anger, and the desperation to bring Bruce back home, no matter what. Anyone who's read the Red Robin comics can tell you how he was crashing out throughout it. through my eyes, if he's ever to drop the Robin mantle, it certainly shouldn't be to go back to Red Robin. Does that mean I think he should stay Robin forever? No! Course not!! but I also think the writers need to pause and actually think about the kind of character his is before deciding to make a mantle that's purely Tim, if that makes any sense.

all that aside, it's important to acknowledge that Tim started off as a narrative tool. a support character ready to go at any given moment through other people's stories, not just Batman. countless times we see DC utilizing Tim just to progress the plot, which isnt inherently a bad thing, but it does explain why he's such a wild card in the comics lol

his character changed a LOT from the 90s to the 00s, and he's gone from a character at Batman's side 24/7 to a character who gets sidelined more often than not. and with everything else going on in DC rn, im not surprised he hasn't been in the spotlight for a hot second. but hey, i heard there's some possible content coming out for him this and the upcoming years so yay?

final thoughts: it'd be pretty fucking hard for a writer to properly write a good transition for Tim from Robin to something new. he can't be Robin forever, obviously, but there's no reason to put such a rush on it, especially when DC seems to forget his portrayal 90% of the time lmao. anyway i love tim sm

I hope this ramble made the slightest sense it's the middle of the goddamn night and the words are starting to blur together

[kelpies-inthe-marsh]

"Talk To Me"

Braxton x Reader

A/N: like all my fics, this is really self indulgent, and maybe one day it'll lead to me writing for other jon bernthal characters but for now. This is all I got

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, otherwise none, its cute

It was late.

It was really really late, about 2:30 in the morning, kind of late.

Or was it early?

You really weren't sure, you supposed It depended on the type of person you were whether it was late or early.

It was late for you specifically though.

You were only awake because you'd had the most vivid and horrific nightmare and you just had to make sure Braxton was okay. You'd woken up panting, sweaty, your blankets bunched at the bottom of the bed, clearly you'd thrashed around quite a bit before you'd finally bolted upright.

He wasn't answering. This shouldn't have scared you as badly as it did, Brax was working, and you weren't even sure what country he was in, to know what time it was. It could have been just as late, or the middle of the day, you had no idea. All you really knew was that you desperately needed to hear his voice. You just needed to know he was okay.

You'd never actually been so disappointed to hear his voice mail message, instead of leaving one after the tone, you hung up and tried again. The fingers of your freehand drummed a random pattern against the mattress as you silently begged whatever god was listening for Braxton to just answer his phone. Usually he'd pick up on the first ring, because of his ever present earpiece, it would annoy you when he'd wear it at home, but now you were cursing the fact that he didn't have it.

The third ring, and then the fourth. It stopped ringing, “hello?” There was his voice, finally, you'd never been so grateful to hear him.

The relieved sound you made was clearly heard by Braxton, because he asked, “sweetheart? Are you alright? What's goin' on?”

You took a really deep breath, and let it out before you started speaking, “I'm really sorry for calling, I know you're working, but I just, I had.. a nightmare and it was so real, and you- I just had to make sure you were okay.”

You heard stuffing through the phone, and the tell tale click of a lamp turning on, “I'm here, sweetheart,” he murmured, “I'm ok. How can I help?”

You couldn't help but sniffle, even when you were waking him up, Braxton was still ready to take care of you, “just, can you um, can you talk to me? Just about anything, just for a few minutes-”

“Yeah, yeah absolutely- I'm right here-” he agreed almost instantly.

You got nice and comfy in bed again, rolling over to his side. You'd definitely have to change the sheets, but that was an issue for tomorrow. As soon as you were settled you asked him, “how was your day?”

That must have been a very loaded question, because he was off. Braxton told you about his boss, and the insane demands the client had, “like I'm talkin' horse head in the bed, sweetheart, how fucked is that?” He tossed in, clearly annoyed.

You couldn't help but laugh, and in turn it made him chuckle, “they think I'm like, a mob enforcer- which sure I can pretend, for a price right? But they're not willing to pay the fee- so I'm just doing the job, should be done today actually, and then I'll be home, how's that sound?”

The sound of his voice always relaxed you, so you were really near falling asleep again, but you nodded, knowing he couldn't see you, “sounds good Brax, miss you-” trailing off with a yawn.

He smiled, running a hand through his hair with a small huff, “miss you too, so much, you think you can get some sleep for me? Maybe if we're lucky, I'll be home by the time you wake up, hm?”

You yawned again, cuddling into his pillow, “yeah, mhm, I can do that, love you.”

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his face, “love you too sweetheart, so much-”

He didn't think you would reply, but he stayed on the phone anyway, just until he heard your breathing really slow, and deepen. He only hung up after that. Running a hand across his face, he sighed, he was already awake, so there wasn't any reason why he couldn't get the job done early.

The sooner he finished, the sooner he could get home to you, and that was all he really wanted. Just to get home, and hold you. If he finished quickly, maybe you'd still be asleep, and he'd get to sneak into bed, and lay with you for a while.

That was all the motivation he needed to get out of bed, handling this while everyone was still asleep was probably the best way to go.. thank god he didn't have to outsource a horse head for this job. The little victories, and the idea of you waiting for him at home, would carry him through the completion of this job

[xaramybeloved]

everyone. what's your opinion on cool looking masks and does anyone want one?

Jesse: "Ooo! I do really like that white one. May I have one like that?" Jess: "ah... no thanks, they are cool.. Just not something I'd like." Olivia: "Ah! The crimson one is rather cute. I'd love to have it!" Axel: "The tan one with green and blue, if you don't mind." Lukas: "N-no. Thank you for the offer... I just..not a fan of masks.. they are neat I will admit." Petra: "Agreed.. sorry. I imagine they took time to craft.. is that crimson wood on the first one?" Gabriel: "Hm... that white and blue one is rather interesting.. I think I'd like that one.." Magnus: "I wouldn't want to destroy them back at Boomtown.. it'd be a shame for something so delicately crafted to be blown up." Ellegaard: "Masks wouldn't be very efficient when I'm working... which I usually am.. although maybe for display... I'll take whatever is left." Soren: "Well crafted. But.. not my thing. Apologies." Ivor: "They're perfect! I'd like the crimson and teal one, friend." Isa: "Benedict wouldn't like such a thing. However, I do appreciate seeing others work." Harper: "I'm sure Ivor wants one. And, admittedly, I would too... I really do like the tan one in the back." Radar: "Oh Notch! These are really cool. I'd like the tan one.. it speaks to me.. thank you so much for offering!" Jack: "mm.. Those do look rather nice... especially the brown and blue one.. I suppose I'd like that one." Sammy: "Masks? Cool! Uhm.. I.. don't know! Uh.. could you surprise me? Please?" Vos: "While I adore the craftsmanship on these... I'm not a fan of masks. Deepest regrets." Romeo: "Oh. Uh.. no.. sorry. I don't want one." Xara: "... a mask? For me? ... thanks... could I have the white and blue?" Fred: laughs "I always love seeing what people do with the environment. These are not any different. I wonder what all was put into each of these... may I have one of each? I understand if there's a one mask per person limit." Ira (oc): "Masks... they remind me of.. I shouldn't say.. sorry I'm rambling.. the white and... periwinkle right? I really like that one... its pretty..."

[sonic-takeover]

Shadow it's okay, they even followed your no kissing rule for today dude. Silver's happy, isn't that a good thing? And he even picked someone who Sonic knows well enough to trust. Just cool your jets. They both like each other and they went on a nice date to confess; this is the normal expected outcome. They just don't have as much baggage between them as you and Sonic did, but that's a good thing for them. You should be happy for them. Espio is also totally respecting Silver's boundaries so it's all very nice and chill and he doesn't deserve a beating. 😅

Silver has only known of his feelings for a few days. I won't let Espio take advantage of that. *He reaches the clearing, eyes narrowing when he sees Espio laying on the blanket, his hands behind his head. Silver is up in the tree above him, laughing and talking to him as he lounges into the branches. They look... Happy. Shadow hesitates for just a moment. He stumbles as Amy shoves past him to stand between him and the happy couple, her piko hammer gripped in her hands. She glares at him*

Not one more step, Shadow!

*Shadow glares at her, squaring his shoulders* Amy. What are you doing here?

*She points her hammer at him* I'm here to stop your reign of heartbreak. You can't get in the way of love!

Oh please. You watch too much romance crap.

*Amy gasps dramatically* You love romance crap! How dare you!

I know. Which is why I know you watch too much of it. I'm here to keep them from going too far.

They don't need that, Shadow! Look! They're happy!

.... I can see that. But I must make it clear to Espio that-

Shads!

Chaos..

*Sonic stops next to him, grabbing his arm* Dude, stop. I know you're trying to give Silver the parental experience you never had, but he doesn't need or want that. Not like this.

.... Oh.. You see yourself in Silver, don't you..

No! Shut up! *He pulls his arm from Sonic's grip* Go home. You shouldn't be up, and you especially shouldn't be running.

Nah, the anons healed me. It's fine. *He looks over at the date. His expression melts into a smile* Aww.. Cute, hah..

Right? They're such a cute couple!

*Shadow grumbles under his breath, grabbing Sonic's hand and marching back the way he came*

Woah- Babe, what..?

You want me to let him get hurt, I'll let him get hurt. I'm not gonna stand here where they'll see us.

*Sonic watches him for a moment, then laces his fingers with Shadow's* He'll be okay, babe. He may be a sweetie, but he's not an idiot. If he needs advice, we're here. That's the best we can do.

..... I suppose.

Mhm! *Amy runs over to walk alongside them* It's sweet you care so much, Shadow. I'm sure Silver is really grateful. But it's okay to let him move forward, even if it's scary.

... When I first fell for Sonic.. *He glances at Sonic, who smiles at him* I didn't make any moves. For years. And I'm glad I didn't, because if I had, I would have embarrassed myself. It was important for our relationship to take it slow.

*Sonic kisses the back of Shadow's hand* Yeah, it was. We needed time to figure out the difference between rivalry and love. But they don't have that. They don't need that time, they already know the difference.

.... True...

*Amy bumps her shoulder into Shadow's* I think you just like getting to act like a dad~

*Shadow casts her a glare*

You'll do great when you and Sonic get kids of your own someday~ Hehe~

*Sonic chokes on air, coughing. Shadow rubs his back. His ears are red* Enough, Amy. Go home. Sonic is feeling better, so we're going to race.

Ack- Ugh.. Yeah. Gotta stretch my legs. Thanks Ames.

No problem you two~ Have fun! *She giggles and runs ahead*

..... Gaia help us..

Mhm..

[eroticcannibal]

As a parent, what's your take on the UK government's desire for all adults trying to access porn to have to use ID? I feel so against it for security reasons (I work in childcare so I don't want my ID linked to the porn I watch, I already feel nervous to be seen going into sex shops and such in my everyday life). But I know it's worrying that young teens are stumbling across porn online? (I mean, I don't think it actually did me any harm when I was a teen, but for other people they say it did).

Fully 100% against it.

First of all, it won't work. Even if you support invasions of privacy and restrictions of rights to "save the children", this should still be opposed because it won't work. There has never been any kind of limiting what kids view that works. Not ever. It will never exist. Kids are resourceful and curious. They will bypass it every time.

The dark side of *that* is the more you have to get round protective measures, the more dangerous the spaces you end up in. Linking back to that previous anon with how to find even some quite normie kink stuff you've got to look in dodgier places, the same happens here too. Yes, pornhub will block you. Any reputable site will block you until you show ID. Think what sites are fine with breaking the law. That's where kids will go.

I'm also incredibly worried about what kids will share among themselves, given the current issue with more and more kids in telegram groups sharing quite dodgy shit and sometimes even illegal things, including images of their peers. I can imagine if it's harder to get on to pornhub, that will only get worse.

More of a parenty opinion but I also firmly believe that things should, as much as is reasonable and possible, be framed as shouldn't rather than banned. A kid who has a bad time in a situation they aren't allowed to participate in, especially if it involves breaking the law, is less likely to seek help. I've already had to jump this hurdle with the child, I've always been "shouldn't" regarding porn and explained why as well as been clear about what the law is, when would be appropriate, how to stay safe etc. When they've crossed a line, they've told me and we could deal with it. And they were quite young when this happened, but they haven't suffered all the ills people worry about because we were able to handle it, and it was experienced on top of a strong foundation about appropriate behaviour and why it is important. Now they know to stick to their T rated batfam fics.

And then because it's the UK we need to worry about the fact that PERFECTLY MORAL AND CONSENSUAL sexual activity is criminalised here, and at least some of that is illegal to view if too "realistic" (which is not legally defined). I'm very much not a fan of the idea of making it easier to enforce such laws.

And then yeah privacy god can you imagine a data leak and now everyone knows what you watch. Yikes.

It is also entirely invalidated by VPNs, making the entire thing a pointless exercise.

I really think we need to move away from hiding all the sex from the people experiencing their bodies demanding sex related experiences, we all know what puberty is like, we all know they will find an outlet, and leaving them to work that out for themselves is what is dangerous. Really working out as a society where the line is, what it *is* ok for them to view and when and encouraging healthy and age appropriate explorations of sex let's them know what they *can* do. Like, it's the basic parenting tactic, a kid will always struggle with "don't do x" because it's harder to process the negative. They will succeed easier if you instead tell them what they can do. That's a clear instruction.

[sister-obedience]

Obedience wasn't much for the occult, though she could appreciate the aesthetic. She quickly perked up, asking, "You like romance novels?" It shouldn't have come as a surprise. There was something romantic about Terzo, though that might've just been his stage persona. It was hard to tell at that point. She didn't really know him well enough to say. "I have a whole shelf of them in my room!" It was a big shelf, too, taking up most of one of the walls. There was a vintage bookstore in the little village nearest the ministry, and she visited it any time she got the chance to build her collection.

She, too, straightened in her chair, her blue-gray eyes alight. "The really trashy eighties ones are my favorite," she said. "You would not believe how many of them have Fabio on the cover, it's wild!"

Maybe stiletto heels on a stone floor hadn't been a good idea. Sister Obedience was just lucky she'd been near the wall when her heel snapped and she hadn't gone toppling to the ground. The heels were only five inches, a perfectly reasonable height, and lower than her usual six-inchers, but one wrong step and snap. A lovely pair of Miu Mius ruined.

Resisting the urge to pout, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her ruined shoe as if that was enough to fix it. The question was this: Did she take it off and continue down the hall limping with one bare foot or just pretend the heel wasn't broken and hope it didn't get worse on her way to her room?

She was distracted from her spiral by the sound of approaching footsteps.

(@sister-obedience)

The current Papa of the Ministry had just finished a meeting with his ghouls, and was now strolling the halls, on his way back to his office. Or, well, it hadn't exactly been a meeting, per se. It had been more of a jam session. Rehearsing some new tunes, brushing up on some older ones. But for the sake of not getting labeled as unserious, he'd simply called it a meeting.

He did pause, however, noting the figure ahead of him. The displeasure painted on her face was obvious. Now, he was a rather curious man, which often led to unfavorable situations, but he figured that he would stop and inquire. No harm could come from that, right?

So, the shorter male, only by a few inches, would pause a couple a feet from her, a respectable distance, head tilted to the side. That white eye of his almost seemed to scan the woman, seeking out what might have caused her dismay. And then, he spotted it.

Oh dear.

"How unfortunate, Sorella. Miu Miu is such an expensive brand." He hummed, a strand of black hair falling out of place as he shifted some to straighten up. Yes, he knew his designer brands.

What? He was Italian, what did you expect?

He cleared his throat, offering the woman a smile. One of those warm, charming ones he was so known for. "If you want to salvage it, may I suggest contact cement?"

@sister-obedience

[didderd]

I'm gonna be doing quick kofi doodles to help with moving costs!

So here's how it's gonna go:

Each $5 gets 5 minutes of doodle time. So up to $20 for a 20 minute doodle. I won't go over 20 minutes, so if you tip more than that, you will not get more time for your doodle.

Only 1 character per doodle.

If you want something specific of the character, keep it simple.

Make sure to provide a reference for the character if it is an OC.

I will do suggestive, but no full NSFW.

And no ship children of sanscest, font***t, or frans. (The latter two would be block on site.)

Ofc, you must be 18 or older for this. No minors here.

These will just be done when I find moments to do it! So if it takes a while to get to yours, do not worry, I will get to it eventually.

Example of a 5 minute doodle:

(I don't wanna bother with sketching more than that for examples atm, so this is all the example you get.)

I don't know how long I'll be doing these. I will let y'all know when I am closing them.