#like the combination of the beanie glasses and beard

[masonjarsmoments]

The way this is giving big german university student vibes

#like the combination of the beanie glasses and beard #there is just the mate or bionade missing or whatever soda is cool at the moment #typical langzeitstudent who studies something with sociology and philosophy #markus eisenbichler #ski jumping

[eliaswoodt]

Death Row

(Death Row)

(Death, mild gore/mentions of gore)

Oh god he really hates her.

“Hello~! Sorry to be tardy to the party—would you take my coat please?“ She gives the black article of clothing to one of the hooded people that stuffed themselves in the dark basement. A bunch of cultists…what the fuck is his life? “Oh, thank you doll—” One of them hands her a bottle of something (wine he assumes) and a red glass, “—and thank you again.”

She looks down and that turn of the lip widens as she looks at the man chained to the ground. Lexx opens her mouth but Sean interrupts whatever the British woman was about to say, “What are you doing here..?” He says faintly with a little rasp. He hadn’t talked much when any of them tried chatting with him. Not even Lee, who he used to be close to. Close to, and look at what he did to Lee, to his poor hand. He can feel the anger claw at his throat, heavy and burning. He wanted to hand him over to authorities, let them handle a crazy man like that, but Lee wanted to keep him there. Maybe if he was away from that monster long enough he’d break away from those delusions, he had said with a distrusting and hopeful expression. Kait was willing to do the same.

“—doin’ the electric slide, calm down.” He tunes back in the very moment her hand touches his shoulder. “Mo, can I call you Mo?” He shakes her hand off, hating the way it feels. He can feel the imprint of her hand wiggle its way under his skin even after she’s pulled away, a feeling he can’t shake and he feels that anger claw and scratch at his throat once again but he swallows it because he knows it won’t do anything.

He still spits in her face.

She makes a displeased noise.

Good, he thinks pettily.

“Well that’s rude.” Her eyes widened a little. She pinched his chin. “Oh! Love the beard!” The seemingly forever amused smile winds its way over her face once more, and his glare hardens. He never thought someone could sound so annoying. He remembers when he first met her, back then his patience didn’t wane from her saying one. single. sentence. He never knew before hell that hate could be so strong.

She suddenly turns back to Mo and pulls his black beanie over his head. A loud boop sound causes him to flinch and Mo thinks the laugh he heard meant she noticed. “Take him over there, please love!” He struggles far more than he had during this whole ordeal. He wasn’t all too familiar with the basement, he tried not to go down here much even before Sean unwillingly made his home on the concrete.

“Thanks handsome~” Mo focuses on struggling against the guy that had jumped him while he was watching TV. The guy was strong and when Mo gets out of this his wrists are definitely getting bruises, if the way the man’s grip is anything to go by.

He aims a kick to the shins but before it makes contact he gets shoved forward, and he gets kneed in the back leg instead. “Fuck you.” he spits. The man chuckles.

Oh god, his hands are starting to feel numb.

“So, I may be a sociopath and a murderer and you know, great.” It seems she’s as delusional as Sean is. If Lee was here he’d roll his eyes. “But! I do have a set of principles, and unfortunately today I’m going to have to break two of those principles.” She doesn’t sound even the slightest saddened by that. If anything, she seems apathetically disappointed. Okay, his hands really are starting to feel numb, this cannot be good. “—Because what’s really the point? I mean it leaves so much room for error. Or, you know, terrible puns, and rescue. But…at the end of the day, who’s really going to come rescue you? I mean, the only two people who know you’re down here have a combination of 19 fingers and are off doing Scooby Doo shit!” If he knew she and the Family were going to have a last chat with this bastard he would’ve tried harder to convince Lee.

He struggles some more, managing to elbow the guy in his side and the aforementioned guy retaliates by kicking him in the back. “Ow! Fuck!” He couldn’t help but shout.

She doesn’t stop talking but it seems she speeds up ever so slightly.

“Look at those loyal faces over there,” She said. “Such gorgeous women. Loyal! Well, they once were loyal to you. Maybe they aren’t anymore because I don’t treat them like henchmen.” He remembers the Dead Weight video, and the way he acted there was nothing like Lee had once described Sean to be and the few times he had met the guy. “Because they’re my elite.”

He’s tied up now, and that fire inside, that burning wick is getting all too close to the wax of the candle, about to be smothered out. He doesn’t know what else to do as the man steps on him, pushing him further into the ground and he’s never felt so helpless. So humiliated. Well actually that’s a lie he thinks as his treacherous mind shows him glimpses of forest and the starry sky, of being surrounded by cloaked people and Lee…fucking Lee shoving a book in his hands telling him to run. And that he’d follow. A promise of which he broke of course because life hates them and Lee does stupid shit.

“But!” He startles. “Unfortunately,” and this time she does sound saddened by the news. “I got a call from a higher up. And unlike you, I really am loyal. And the Speaker—“ she says the name with utmost importance of which makes him want to spew the leftover pizza he ate earlier. “—a word with you.” His heart was unsteady since he was manhandled by the nameless guy that even now has a foot on his back, keeping him in place, but now…now as he realizes what she just said and what that really means his heart hammers. Banging against his rib cage, banging against his ears so loudly that he thinks the man above could hear it.

“I’M HIS CHOSEN!” He hears Sean scream.

Lexx giggles.

“You see, you WERE the chosen. See? You don’t need to scream. I’m right here. But, you were the chosen.” She sighs, “Now you’re sad, broken—you know what, you put it so beautifully once. Oh what was it? Ah, yes. You. Are. Dead. Weight.” His thoughts become muddled. Thoughts containing feeble hope, a hope that Lee comes and saves his ass, a hope that Kaitlyn comes saves his ass, a hope that for whatever reason the Speaker doesn’t come and kill his ass. And then the regret comes to grace his panicked heart and ringing ears, the regret of not kicking Lexx when he had the chance, the regret of not coming with Lee to meet the elusive Linnie, the regret of not saying goodbye when he left, still upset that Lee was doing this by himself.

Selfish…

“Markmoo!” She yells and he doesn’t reply but the guy above does. “Here.”

He can hear the thing’s whispers, but they sound like rumbles and growls to his un-special ears.

“Well, it was fun while it lasted~” Her wretched laugh follows up, and upward as she steps up the stairs, creaks follow her until she’s well and truly gone. And the man leaves as well, more and more footsteps follow inline up, and upward on the staircase that leads out of the horrible basement until he and Sean are left by themselves. It’s quiet for a few breaths, nobody having the guts to say anything, anything at all. And then the bumps, and the thumps of something being much too wide for the staircase ring out. The scratches of claws scraping concrete floor and growls of something animal follow. And despite all this noise the steps of the beast are careful and calculated as it circles around Sean if his pleading is anything to go by. The way it clearly takes its time as it rips Sean apart says it is not an average animal by far.

And then Sean goes quiet.

And the thing goes quiet too.

The noiseless noise buzzes and fizzes in his ears, he could hear his heart ever so clearly as it beats loudly and rapidly in anticipation. He still doesn’t unblindfold himself, even though he could. He could ever so easily lift up his beanie by moving his head up and down until it slid right off and he would be able to see. At least a little bit in the dark. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he can’t move. He can’t move because he’s afraid. And he has never felt more like puking from the smell of something alone. The smell of guts and gore, the iron that fills the air, it’s a smell he would’ve liked to never know.

So as the thing that has tortured Lee, tortured himself, Sean, and many more stalkes towards him he instead imagines something else. Someone else, he imagines Lee’s face…and he says sorry.

He says sorry, as that monster rips him apart.

He says sorry, as he instinctively screams for help as that thing claws at him and screams at him.

He says I am so sorry Lee, as his consciousness dims and that candle lit fire goes out.

#my posts #my fiction #wf #whisperedfaith #whispered faith #mo whisperedfaith #whisperedfaith mo #mo wf #wf mo #fanfic #fanfiction #tw death #tw mentions of violence #the speaker #the speaker wf #wf the speaker #the speaker whisperedfaith #whisperedfaith the speaker #spoilers #my whispered faith posts

[stranger224]

Berry Brothel-Eartha's Performance

I have to say I was pretty excited to watch Eartha’s performance. A few wall street types had bought an auction with her, meaning they had till the end of a song to convince her they were the one to go in the back room with her for a ride they would never forget. I've done a few myself and they can be quite fun. It can make you feel powerful to have all these guys eating out of your hand.

The room decorates itself to look like an office christmas party even spawning in a few NPCs to mill around and make small talk. Eartha pretends to mingle sipping from a pink cocktail. The trio of Men I’ve nicknamed them Jordan, Gordon and Bob are also standing together chatting, probably making side bets with each other about the outcome, while they wait for Eartha’s song to start.

The music starts to play around the room. the three men look trying to figure out who the singer is, Eartha finishes her drink and saunters over to the men. she has added a pair of thick rim glasses to her sweater and beanie combined with her boyish frame she was giving off Jess Day vibes. 

As the first verse of the song started she cuddled closer to Gordon, who seemed to be slightly older than the other two, with a well maintained white beard and a red suit. Giving him a cool santa vibe. Gordon seemed confused by the nerdy girl in front of him. Clearly he had expected someone that looked more traditionally like a stripper.

“Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree for me” Eartha sang or maybe she was just lip syncing. She pressed her back into Gordon’s shoulder with a little shimmy and a wink at the other two men

“Been an awful good girl” clasping her hands in front of Gordon Eartha dropped to her knees looking up at him she made her eyes wide and face as coquettish as possible.

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Springing up to her feet she moved her attention to Jordan. pressing her hands to her hips, she rolled her hips seductively before spreading her legs and leaning over, and presenting her ass to the third man Bob. This move would have worked if her sweater wasn't so long that it covered her down to her knees. Bob for his part also seemed confused about why it looked like someone from accounting had gotten too drunk and was now trying to flirt despite having no assets to flaunt. Bob was dressed in a green velvet suit that didn't seem to fit him too well. Like he had grabbed the first thing that fit him. Maybe he got dragged to this place slightly against his will. Only Jordan was watching Eartha like a hawk looking for the smallest detail of changes; it was clear he had been the one to suggest coming to Brothel over an average strip club or call service. Jordan was wearing the least festive outfit of the trio. The only notable detail was the blue fleece vest that really screamed “I'm a venture capital bro” , still he was the one bringing in new clients to the brothel so I can't hate him too much.

When Eartha leaned over he saw the first sign of the changes to come; the hair sticking out of Eartha’s beanie was now a bleach bottle blond.

“Santa baby, an auto space convertible too, light blue” 

Eartha moved to the center of the men, miming turning a steering wheel as she dipped her hips slightly rocking them like a bell.

I'll wait up for you, dear

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Shifting her attention to Bob Eartha pressed herself to his chest  pulling up his tie and giving it a twirl.

Think of all the fun I've missed

Leaning over Bob’s shoulder she pointed over at Jordan with come hither look before pushing off of both of them and strutting away, wagging her finger over her lips while singing “Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed”

Next year I could be also good

If you'll check off my Christmas list

Still singing, Eartha reached up and pulled off the beanie, long blond hair fell down like a waterfall of silk,  reaching all the way past the bottom of her dress. Both Gordon and Bob looked at her in shock, while Jordan’s smug face said closer to “What did I tell you?” 

Santa honey, I want a yacht and really that's not a lot

Been an angel all year

Eartha began swishing her hips back and forth tickingling her hair as if it was a dance partner, turning sideways as she bent her leg, letting all that new hair tumble down before moving it back in place with a flip. On Eartha’s wrist a gold bracelets suddenly lit up blue Jordan had decided to make the first bid on the Christmas kitten 

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Eartha waltzes over to the current leader running her fingers through her long golden hair fluttering her eyelashes at him. Eyelashes that were rapidly darkening and thickening. as if Mascara was magically applied by an unseen hand. With a wink Eartha’s brown eyes turned baby blue.

Santa cutie, there's one thing I really do need, the deed

To a platinum mine

 The bracelet on her wrist changes from blue to green as Bob ups the bid. Eartha

moves over to her new playmate. Dropping to her knees in front of him, her face is level with his dick. Looking up to him with her big blue eyes, she licks her lips slowly and seductively. As her tongue passes over them they take on a glossy pout pumping up to beautifully sculpted cock pillows. As Eartha sings the next line of the song I know she has to be lipsyncing, no one with lips that plump could talk without lisping let alone sing.

“Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight”

The Bracelet turns blue again as Jordan ups the bid. Making a kissy face at Bob Eartha slinks her body back up to standing. As she reaches her full height I notice she seems to be a bit taller, then I see that the converse she had been wearing have now changed into pink converse heels. As she clicks over to Jordan I notice that her sweater dress is slowly moving away from her knees.  

Come and trim my Christmas tree

With some decorations bought at Tiffany

Eartha spreads her legs in front of Jordan, bouncing her hips in time to the beat. She places her hands on top of one another giving her ring finger a seductive wiggle. As she bounces I see that her breasts have a bit more bounce to them, a bit more jiggle. As they push away from her chest they are pulling the hem of her dress up higher exposing more of her legs and thigh in the process. 

I really do believe in you

Let's see if you believe in me

Her bracelet changes back to green. Eartha repeats the same move she did before bending over to present her tits to Jordan, and her ass to Bob but now she really has something to shake. Her ass is growing, bubbling out thick and juicy, becoming heart shaped as her hips widen out. Her boobs are also still getting bigger, pumping up to J cups or bigger. The growth of her body has pulled her dress into a sweater showing off a pair of red panties with white trim with the word ‘naughty’ printed in festive gold script. 

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring

I don't mean on the phone

Bob goes to swat at Eartha’s ass,  but she stands up and twists around to face him. An overemphasis pout on her face, as if she can't believe that he would be so crude. Still lip syncing, She puts her hand out to him tapping her ring finger again as the bracelet changes to blue.

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Returning to Jordan Eartha pressed herself to his body making sure his cock was right up against her panties. She puts a hand on his hip, guiding him to move with her as her curves grow even more extreme. Her ass easily filled his lap, while his hands massaged her breasts that had to be M cups at least, but sat high and perky giving them an air of silicone implants. They were so large that the sweater that had started out as a dress now wasn't even covering her tiny waist.

“Hurry down the chimney tonight”. She sang the final lines of the song as the music slowed down. Jordan smiled sure that he had won the prize tonight. Then the light on Eartha’s bracelet turned a new color: Red

Jordan hurried to up his bid as Eartha pulled away from him, sauntering her bimbo body up to Gordon who was smirking proudly. As the song ended its final bar and Eartha escorted the her Santa baby to a private room, his hand on her ass with a last look over her shoulder to the other two men, she mouthed the last two words of the song with a wink

“Hurry, tonight” 

The room went dark as Jordan and Bob were escorted out of the room and I made my way down for my performance

#bimbotransformation #bimbotf #santa baby

[littlefreya]

The Kitten & the Bear - Part 1

Intro: This story is a collab and was written by both @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ and I. It was born out of a fun role play we have going on. We ended up having so much a fun with this particular idea that we thought we should post it as a 3 part story and share it with the rest!

| Read Part 2  | Read Part 3 |

Summary: After a night of drinking in town get Walter’s bratty wife ends up with pure chaos and the overprotective grumpy husband is having none of her shenanigans. 

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC (first person pov) 

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Bratty behaviour, vandalism, dominant overprotectiveness, BDE, husband stalking his wife, sexual innuendo, dirty inappropriate talks, mentions of sex and oral, weed and alcohol usage. Sex in the next parts :D Walter is a Boomer. 

A/N: We didn’t beta it and did transform it from 2nd to 1st person POV, really hoping you guys will enjoy it as we did. Feel free to share your thoughts. 

Title: The Kitten & the Bear

Nothing chilled my heart more than waking up in an empty bed. Walter was already gone, leaving his side of the mattress cold and abandoned. A heavy sigh broke from my lips, I stroked the ghost of the kiss that still tingled on my cheek, knowing he planted it there before heading to work. 

Sadness seeped into my heart as I realised I won't see him today. Our work scheduled conflicted and I have scheduled a "date night" with my girls in the evening. Picking up my phone, I texted him a pouty emoji and then headed to get my day started.

Walter left me on read, which just fuelled the brat in me. When he called during his lunch break, he was taciturn as usual, and most of the call was about his disapproval of us girls going out without at least one male friend or a boyfriend to chaperone.

"Oh my god, Walter, this is not the 50s! Women can leave their house without a husband tagging along!" I grunted and berated him, "stop acting like someone is going to kidnap me!!! I'm an adult woman!" I snapped at him while sitting at the cafe. People sitting around stared quietly as I hung up the phone, and stormed out.

~~~

Walter looked at his mobile phone, shocked. He couldn't even remember the last time someone hung up on him, let along his wife.

"Fucking brat," he muttered as he pocketed it. 

After lunch, he went into the precinct. Since it was flu season and they were having a shortage of uniformed officers, he volunteered to patrol tonight. Assuming he might even be able to check up on me wherever I get to town. Just to keep me safe. That's right. Not from jealousy. Not because I'll be all dolled up and tipsy and every man in the vicinity will ogle me.

~~~

As the evening loomed, I was in dire need of letting loose. Walter had left me incredibly frustrated, acting like a police officer from hell rather than my husband. Going through my closet, I stumbled upon the most outrageous piece of wardrobe: a black strappy thing with corset details at the front. The same one I've worn for our first date which of course ended up with Walter and I dry humping like two horny teenagers at the back of his truck and him eating me out until I came all over his beard 4 times. 

I slapped a dark red lipstick and put on a pair of red "fuck me" pumps before leaving to meet the gals in a new night club that had just opened. I might or might not have a rolled-up joint in my purse.

~~~

Walter was sitting in a patrol vehicle on the opposite side of the street from the new fancy club with translucent walls. We were all sitting beside the window at a small table full of cocktail glasses, but the girls were gesturing toward the dance floor. Walter chose a dark spot on the street to park the car and was wearing a beanie. 

But he didn't need it. He knew I was oblivious to him and also to the men staring at me from 3 different tables. He ground his teeth frustrated when he first noticed that I was wearing that dress. His blood boiled as I was slowly sipping a cocktail with a sexy little pout around the long straw.

"Let's dance!!! I wanna dance!!!" I whined at my friend Keylah, grabbing her wrist and dragging her with me. My posture was slightly unstable after two cocktails and probably not enough food to pad my belly. She followed me to the dance floor while Stephanie remained in her seat, talking to some guy just for the sake of trolling. He'd been hitting on each one of us unsuccessfully. 

After an hour of dancing with Keylah, swaying my ass in ways that didn't leave any imagination to the men lurking, I remembered the little treat I had in my purse and decided we should take a small break to breathe some fresh air. 

I grabbed the girls, and we walked outside.

"Okay, don't you dare mention this to Walter," I warned them as I took the joint out from my purse.

"Daddy Magnum gonna punish you?" Steph teased while I lit the weed. 

"Oh, you have no idea, he gave me shit about seeing you tonight without a male chaperone, like this is Mad Man or something." 

"Woah! Walter is a boomer!!!" Keylah teased, and we all laughed hysterically. 

~~~

Unbeknownst to me, Walter was watching us dance from his patrol car, getting more and more frustrated by the hour. He observed as I gathered both girls and came out on the street, walking a couple of meters away from the entrance. A frown fell on his face as he saw me taking a lighter out from my purse.

"She doesn't even smoke, what the hell?" he fumed. 

His eyes widened when he saw the telltale shape of a joint between my fingers. His mouth was agape as I lit it up and started smoking and passing it around. "What the fuck? Where did she get that?" he muttered incredulously.

'It's fucking illegal in Minnesota, what the fuck? A cop's wife at that!' He thought, rage simmering in his gut.  

The police radio suddenly began buzzing, the sergeant calling on the line. 

"Hey Marshall, Toby came in for the night shift after all. Do you want him to keep you company?" 

'And see Walter's wife going to town on a spliff? No fucking way.' 

"No, Sarge, thanks. It's uh... calm tonight." He frowned from afar. "Nothing but law-abiding citizens," he replied, hoping his sarcasm didn't go through while he was watching the wife of a respected detective drunk and smoking weed in the great outdoors.

"All right" the sarge concluded and cut the line, and Walter put back the radio.

‘Un-fucking-believable.'

~~~

The girls and I fell into a fit of wild giggles, thoroughly buzzed and high at the same time. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I didn't even bother fixing it as the combination of drugs and alcohol made me frivolous and careless. 

"Is Walter such a nerd in bed too? Is he one of those guys who won't even make a sound because they are ashamed of it?" Stephanie asked to which I immediately snorted.

"Walter fucks like a beast from hell," I answered and put off the remains of the joint against the heel of my shoe. 

"I had to go to the gyno at least four times in the past because he was too violent, and trust me, the noise he makes, luckily no one called the police yet…" 

"Jennifer, your husband is the police!" Keylah answered, and we burst into another fit of giggles which then gradually died down. 

The same man who bugged us from before followed us outside, giving us some stares and making a suckling voice with his lips. I snorted at him and told him to fuck off before putting my arms around my girls. 

"This place sucks, let's go grab something to eat from the store, if Walter sees me like this I will NEVER hear the end of it".

~~~

Walter was watching us walk away, still furious about my illicit behaviour. He promised himself that he'd have a serious conversation with me about this tomorrow. He gave us two blocks of a head start and then ignited the engine of the car and made a U-turn, slowly he rolled towards the store and saw us enter. He made another U-turn in front of the store to park across the street. He just hoped that we'll buy some nachos and a coke and then call it a night, and call a cab to go home.

~~~

It was close to 1am. We barged into the store, marching through as if we owned the place. Keylah stopped by the condoms section and threw a bottle of lube in my direction. "Here you go, Jennifer, you gonna need it".

I laughed and threw it back at her, grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of water. 

"Better fuck his brains before he starts asking where you've been tonight," Stephanie added. 

"Can you girls please behave?" The clerk-lady requested politely, giving us a prudent look. I rolled my eyes at her and then stopped short as I saw a large stuffed grizzly bear that reminded me of Walter. I grabbed it and hugged it tightly just as I got the sudden urge to misbehave.

"Girls…" I whispered, making them come closer, "bet you a 20 I can sneak this out without paying!"

~~~

Walter's shoulders slumped, and he let out an irritated groan when he saw one of the girls throwing things inside the store. Though, he sighed in relief when I paused this stupid game, and a small smile tugged the edge of his mouth when I hugged a huge stuffed bear that reached down to my thighs and was high above the top of my head as I squeezed it to my torso. 

The way I looked at the bear reminded him of the loving looks I always gave him. But a sense of foreboding assaulted him as we started whispering and pointed at the door.

~~~

"Okay, okay… shush!" I whispered way too obvious and held the stuffed animal behind my back.

"Hey Keylah, can you pay for my chips?" I asked and backed away toward the door, nearly stumbling on my heels and holding the laughter in my gut. 

Noticing my attempt, the old woman cleared her throat, giving me a glare, "You are going to have to pay for that or I will call the police…"

"Her husb…"

"Shut up, Stephanie!" Keylah shouted and threw a bottle of lube in her direction, accidently hitting my shoulder, which made me drop the bear on the floor. 

"Key, you fucking bitch!!!" I answered and picked up the bottle, throwing it back at her. 

"Hey stop that!!!!" The clerk demanded and walked back behind the counter, picking up her phone. 

We ignored her, laughing like schoolgirls and throwing the bottle back and forth between us. Boxes of tampons and condoms fell to the floor as we moved through the hygiene section shouting playfully. 

As Keylah threw the bottle at me for the 12th time, I lifted it and threw it so hard it hit the window and broke it, causing the store's alarm to go off immediately.

"Oh… fu……..ck" I uttered.

~~~

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no," Walter panicked as he saw us vandalising the store. He was immediately ready to jump out of the car, but then it would be obvious he'd been keeping an eye on me. He had to wait for the call. 

He wasn't even hoping that the clerk would not involve the police in the matter. She has to. ‘Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.’ 

When he saw the lady picking up the phone, he buried his face in his palms and rubbed it tiredly.

"Stupid, fucking bitches" he sighed, not believing his wife being so reckless. 

He picked up the buzzing radio and said, "Marshall. I'm here. On it." 

Without delay, he took the beanie off and got out of the car with his badge and gun ready.

~~~

Fingers dug into my hair, I stared wide-eyed at the broken window, immediately regretting all my decisions in the last couple of hours. 

'Walter was going to fucking kill me'. 

"I am soooooooo……." I began to say, turning to the clerk slowly while Keylah and Steph held their hands over their mouths. "So sorry." I stretched out while the alarm continued ringing in my ears. 

Then just like out of a nightmare, stepping through shards of broken glass with his big black boots, I saw Walter walking in, his brows knit together, his badge and his gun held out but kept low. He was enormous and menacing, yet the sight of him comforted me.

"Oh thank god, it's you!" I call out relieved.

~~~

The glass cracked beneath his steps as he walked in. He looked around and checked the store for cameras. 'Fuck, there were CCTVs'. 

He hoped to snatch me away and take care of the situation without involving... well himself but now that there was evidence it wasn't possible anymore. I was looking at him like a frightened little girl, but he couldn't help me, and frankly, he didn't feel like it either.

He looked at the clerk, showed her his badge and said in a neutral tone "MPD. What seems to be the problem?" 

~~~

My breath hitched at his "cop voice" and the way he asked the clerk. 

Stepping back and standing in the middle of the group, the three of us gaped at him with utter dumbfoundedness. Both my heart and gut dropped to the messy floor out of fear, and the way he carried himself, looking so menacing and authoritative made my panties drenched with arousal. 

"Officer, thank god you arrived! These three tried to steal a stuffed animal and started wreaking havoc in the store, throwing stuff around like children and speaking offensively!" The old woman explained and stood in the middle of the mess, looking helpless. 

My eyes rounded with false innocence, and I nibbled my bottom lip, giving Walter a vulnerable look. 

Walter was patiently listening to the clerk. Not a muscle flinched on his face as if he'd known everything. He took his notebook and a report form out and took care of the paperwork. 

The old lady eyed the three of us nervously while Walter was scribbling, and she hesitantly asked, "I'm sorry, Officer, but shouldn't you handcuff them? They might run."

Walter's curly head lifted, and he flashed the lady a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry, ma'am. They won't run."

"Is he serious?" Steph whispered, and I elbowed her, giving Walter a rather pissed off smile as he pretended not to know us at all and treated me like any other criminal.

Was it that just for show? Probably. We were going to have a serious talk about boundaries once we'd get home.

Walter finished writing his report and made the lady sign it before turning to look at the three of us, clenching his jaw. 

After a long, stern silence, I finally spoke, "Can I still get the teddy bear?"

Walter's nostrils flared as he dug into his pocket, pulled out a 20-dollar bill, slammed it on the counter and said to the clerk "For the bear."

At first, the lady was dumbfounded, then she blurted out outraged "Why are you buying a gift for a criminal?"

Walter didn't even spare her a look. He picked up the bear and looked at me with unflinching, stern eyes that made all three of us take a step backwards.

"Because she's my fucking wife."

The tone of his voice made the three of us startle, and I released a small gasp, seeing the look on his face. Walter made a gesture with his hand singling us to walk out of the store in order, and we did as he commanded. At the same time, my eyes gave him a mischievous smirk, mistaking this behaviour for a show.

Walter left the store last and immediately commanded, "To the car".

When we got there on the opposite side of the street, he opened the car and shoved the teddy bear on the passenger seat, then turned back, crossed his hands on his chest, and looked at all three of us. 

"Here's how it's gonna happen. We go in the precinct, fill out the forms, you stay the night, and most likely will be charged with a misdemeanour. Although the weed might be more problematic." He glared at me pointedly. 

The girls and I collectively gasped. 

"Now get in the back seat, all of you."

With shuddering legs, Keylah and Steph obediently entered the patrol car. I stared at Walter as he stood there towering over me, his massive arms crossed around his broad chest.

Still intoxicated, I looked at him with disbelief, realising two things: he arrived at the scene in less than two minutes after the lady called the police, which is impossible. And two, he couldn't possibly know I had weed on me unless… 

"Were you stalking me?!" I called out, ignoring the police officer and speaking to my husband. My hands went to my hips, my face sulking. 

"Oh my god, Walter! You were! Weren't you?" I frowned and shook my head, grunting with disgust.

"You are in no position to reproach me for anything right now", Walter said, seemingly calm. "But if you wanna know, I was patrolling in the neighbourhood and decided to check up on you. I saw the way you were shaking your ass for strangers" he spat, but he let his eyes roam the tight dress, and the way he subtly licked his lips made me sure he remembered exactly which dress it was.

"Do as you're fucking told and get in the car or you're gonna find yourself in even bigger trouble." 

"Oh my god, Walter!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled at him and stepped back, throwing my hands in the air furiously.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!!! MY OWN HUSBAND STALKING ME?! What's next Walter? You gonna put an ankle bracelet thingy on me, so I don't get to leave the house without your fucking permission?!"

I got so angry, my hands pushed at his chest, to which he didn't even budge, and only his jaw tightened.

"I am NOT getting into that car, and you are going to let Keylah and Steph go before you are going to be in trouble!"

Keylah and Steph were both watching with utter fascination as they saw the growing tension in Walter's posture.

Once Keylah and Steph were inside the car, they felt like the immediate danger was over. Their drunkenness and high made them reckless again and they started cheering me in the verbal fight with my husband.

Walter was on the verge of bursting, it was evident from his face. He took a menacing step towards me and despite my anger, a pang of arousal shot in my core.

"Get. in the. fucking. car" he growled in a barely audible voice. He gave me one last chance to voluntarily obey him.

I moved closer toward him, my head tilting up to meet his menacing gaze, my breasts ghostly brushing against his hard torso.

"I am not going anywhere with you," I answered unflinchingly. "Keep this attitude up, and the whole town will get to enjoy me swaying this ass long before you do." I teasingly slapped my own ass and then smirked arrogantly as I heard the girls cheering at the backseat

"That's it."

Quick as lightning, Walter's hands uncrossed and shot out. He grabbed my arms, turned me around with dizzying speed and slammed my torso down on the hood of the police car.

"Jennifer Marshall, you are under arrest for destruction of property, public intoxication and obstruction of a law enforcement officer."

I gasped incredulously as I felt the metal handcuffs closing on my wrists while Walter was performing his duty automatically and methodically. I'd never seen him make an arrest, let alone manhandle me like this.

With my cheek pressed against the cold metal, I could see both Keylah and Steph gape at us, eyes and mouth wide with daze. 

Still intoxicated, I hissed as a shiver of fear and sexual arousal shot through my spine, creeping all the way down to my throbbing core. 

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I cried out in protest. "I am your wife!"

My attempt to stand up brought my ass to collide with his crotch, where I felt the unmistakable throb of his blood circulating down to his groin. 

"Are you also getting the feeling that they're gonna fuck?" Steph whispered to Keylah, loud enough for us to hear.

"Shush!" she answered and stared, licking her lips. 

"Let me go, you fucking pig!" I screamed and squirmed on the hood helplessly. 

"Anything you say will be held against you in the court of law" Walter continued in his deep cop voice as if I hadn't even spoken.

"Say his dick, girl!" Keylah shouted, and Steph wooed, but they quickly shut up and resorted to concealed giggling as Walter shot angry eyes at them. He stepped closer to secure his hold on the handcuffs, and I felt the warm coarse material of his jeans at the back of my thighs.

"If you don't want to add resisting arrest and possession of narcotics to your offences, shut the fuck up and stop squirming."

"Fuck” I hissed, which didn't go unnoticed by Walter. My ass naturally shifted against his hardening bulge, and I moaned gently, not loud enough for the girls to hear but definitely heard by Walter, who had his hand around my cuffed wrists.

"You're enjoying this, big guy?" I spit out sardonically, "controlling your wife like you always want to, hmm?"

With the alcohol flushing through my veins, mingled with the sheer exhilaration of anger, I became more daring than ever.

"I think you are just scared because we both know you are never going to tame me."

#henry cavill #walter marshall #nomis #night hunter #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall fanfiction #Author rec: wolvesandhoundshowltogether #Collaborations

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Don’t Worry, Be Snappy!

Summary: Amber finds herself stranded on a boat with Mike Weiss…and as anything where Mike is involved, it all gets a little crazy!

Warnings: Bad Language words.

A/N:  As it is past midnight here in the UK here it is!

BEWARE- This is utter, utter nonsense. You’re about to get an insight into exactly how stupid mine and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ ‘s minds and brain storming sessions really are. But it made us laugh, and we hope it makes you laugh too.

Written especially for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for her birthday! Happiest of days to you Ambi, we love you lots!!!

Fic Song: Don’t Worry, Be Happy by Bob Marley 

Now listen to what I said, in your life expect some trouble, when you worry you make it double. But don't worry, be happy, be happy now

 The problem with Mike Weiss is, well, just that he is Mike Weiss. Total crackpot, in more ways than one. Which was why Amber found herself one sunny July afternoon sailing down a literal creek without a paddle as they searched for his pet alligator. Mike had been struck by a sudden idea the previous night that it would be nice to take Snappy to the Everglades- “So he can associate with his own kind, learn so alligator social skills”

Of course, despite Mike’s protests to the contrary, Snappy was instinctively a fucking wild animal. So as soon as Mike had dropped him into the water he had slunk off into the weeds and completely ignored (again, not surprisingly) Mike’s calling of his name.

“Why did you let him go Mike?” Amber groaned, laying back on the bench in the boat.

“I was high, ok?” Mike sighed “Seemed like a good idea.” He chewed the inside of his cheek a little as he glanced around, hands on his hips “Here Snappy, Snappy.” “Yeah, he’s mingling Mike…there’s no fucking way we’re A- gonna find him, or B- he’s gonna come back!” “I love what a positive, always look on the Brightside kinda gal you are.” Mike shot her a look as he steered the boat carefully down the small reed lined stream.

“I’m a realist.” Amber sighed, still looking up at the clouds “You should try it sometime.”

At that point the boat they were on gave a little stutter and Amber sat up to see Mike glancing curiously at the controls.

“Erm…” he looked around “It broke.” “What do you mean it broke?” “Well it was working…” Mike rolled his eyes “And now it’s not.” “Fucks sake…let me try.” Amber sighed. She stood up, shoved Mike out of the way and she turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. With a groan she looked at him, her hands on her hips “I TOLD you we should have taken my fucking canoe.”

She flopped down back into her seat with a growl.

“Someone’s cranky” Mike whispered and Amber glared at him.

“You know what, I am, you’re right.” She pointed at him “You’re a dumb dork, who does dumb dork things, like letting an alligator go free in the middle of the swamp in FUCKING FLORIDA!”

Mike opened his mouth to say something but the sound of another boat engine drew their attention and they both turned. Amber’s eyes were instantly taken by the man steering the boat who was dressed in a white shirt and a dirty pair of jeans. His wind ruffled hair was stuck up slightly and his eyes were hidden by a set of aviators. A small girl with blonde hair sat besides him, a ginger cat on her lap and behind her perched a woman with long, reddy-brown hair, a pair of glasses also over her eyes.

“You guys alright?” the man asked as they pulled up alongside them.

“Yeah, this dumbass managed to strand us here.” Amber jerked her hand over her shoulder.

“Frank did that to us once.” The young girl grinned and the man who had just stopped the boat besides them looked down at her.

“That was the one time my repairs let me down.” He shook his head.

“One time too many.” She quipped.

Amber snorted, “I like you kid.”

The little girl smiled “I’m Mary, this is my uncle Frank and his girlfriend Fliss.”

“Nice to meet you all.” Amber smiled. “I’m Amber and this is Mike.”

“Want me to take a look at it?” Frank asked, nodding to the boat “I do it for a living so…”

“Be my guest.” Mike said, and Frank nodded, heading to the back of his boat.

“So what are you doing here?” Mary asked.

“Mary stop being so nosey.” Fliss sighed.  Mike gave a chuckle.

“We’re looking for my pet alligator…”

“Yeah Idiot Boy here set him loose. Thought he needed some alligator time with other alligators…” Amber rolled her eyes.

“You have a pet alligator?” Mary’s eyes widened. “Frank, can-“ “No.” Frank cut her off as he turned round, a length of rope in his hand.

“It can live in the pool!” Mary pressed

“Absolutely not.” Fliss looked at her and then their attention turned to Mike as he gave a chuckle.

“Can’t keep em in a pool kid, chlorine…not good.” Mary paused and then grinned “We can build him a lake in Monty’s field…” “The hell we can.” Frank snorted.

“Ah go on man, make the little girl happy!” Mike smiled. “They make great pets…”

“Clearly they don’t.” Frank grumbled, looking Mike up and down before he frowned at the man’s ridiculous shirt and trouser combination. Fliss grinned.

“Nice boots” she said, gesturing to Mike’s cowboy specials.

“Thanks!” Mike flashed her a cheeky grin and a wink.

“Shame about the rest of it.” Frank quipped, as he tied a length of rope to the side of the stranded boat, securing it to his own so he could hop over onto the deck.

“You’re calling my outfit out?” Mike scoffed, gesturing with his hand to Frank’s loud yellow and black Hawaiian print shirt “Exhibit A your honour.” “Clearly this is some sort of shit outfit competition.” Amber mumbled.

“I feel you sister.” Fliss grinned “Are you two…erm…together…or…” “Never seen him before in my life.” Amber denied and Fliss laughed.

“What the fuck Amber?” Mike protested.

“He just turns up from time to time when he has the munchies and eats all my Sour Patch Kids.”

“That’s not the only thing I eat.” Mike grinned and Frank let out a snort.

“Yeah, sure.” Amber rolled her eyes before she looked at Fliss and Mary, dropping her voice “He also eats my dog, Tikka’s, food.” “Frank ate one of Fred’s catnip treats once.” Mary said and Frank shrugged, not taking his attention of the engine of the boat.

“I wanted to see what the fuss was about.”

“You were drunk” Mary retorted.

“That was the night you came home saying the leprechauns had stolen your jacket.” Fliss said.

Mike grinned “I see leprechauns a lot.”

Amber shook her head “Jesus Christ…” she mumbled.

“Ok, I see the problem.” Frank smiled, stranding up and turning to Mike “You’re out of fuel.”

Amber blinked as Mike turned to her, giving her a small shrug and an innocent, boyish smile as she exploded “What the…you didn’t think to CHECK?” “I thought they were electric.” Mike shrugged.

“God you’re an idiot…should have brought my canoe.”

“You know, that’s the second time you said that.” Mike looked at her.

“Really, well here’s the third…” She snarked “I. SHOULD. HAVE. BROUGHT. MY. CANOE!”

“Ok, we can give you a tow back.” Frank said, moving back to climb into his own boat. “Get you back to the centre.” “No can do.” Mike shook his head, “Need to find Snappy…” “Yeah, erm…” Fliss pointed to something that was approaching them, a confused expression on her face “I think he may have already found you.” They all turned and as they watched Snappy sail past their boat led on an Alligator shaped pool inflatable, being pushed by an extremely good looking man in a wet suit. He glanced up at them, smiling, his teeth white from behind his beard and he flicked his long hair back out of his eyes.

“Leave no gator behind.” He said simply, as he continued swimming past, Snappy basking on his inflatable.

Amber blinked, looked at the can of coke she was holding and turned to Mike “What the fuck did you put in this?” “Nothing…” “And why am I suddenly cold?” she frowned.

“Cold?” Frank looked at her “It’s like 90 degrees…in the middle of Florida.”

“That may be, but I’m still cold…” she frowned “And why is it going dark…”

****

Amber sat bolt upright, her head colliding painfully with the bunk above her, breathing deeply as she looked around. The light and warmth she had been feeling had been replaced with dark and cold, the blues and greens of Florida swapped for the dark greys and browns of the train…

“Hey…” a familiar voice said and she turned to look at Curtis as he sat up besides her “You ok baby?”

“Yeah, I just had the strangest dream.” She said as her man gently rubbed between her shoulders as she began to explain to him what she’d been dreaming about. He arched an eyebrow, sniggered occasionally and then snorted with laughter, a rare thing for Curtis Everett, when she told him about the inflatable alligator.

“And Mike, Frank, the Diving guy…they looked a bit like you. Which is odd.” She finished shrugging.

“Well I’m clearly on your mind.” Curtis quipped as he lay back, arms folded behind his bed as he gave her a sinful look “And you should be on my face so I can wish you a happy birthday properly.”

Amber grinned and shuffled round to straddle him before she stopped, her hands falling to his chest.

“On one condition.” She smirked.

“What?”

“Take your beanie off first. It gives me a rash.”

#happy birthday sweater #have some nonsense from us #don't worry be snappy #mike weiss #frank adler #ari levinson #curtis everett

[wftc141]

Blackwatch Chapter 1: We Are Blackwatch

In 2014, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) formed a covert black ops unit, bringing together members from the shadows with a certain set of skills, all curated from the best with the best. They operate in countries that revolves in reconnaissance, rescue, counter-terrorism and assassinations. If they are compromised, NATO was not involved. They do not exist, they do not have records. They are ghosts. They are Blackwatch.

5:06 AM, Local Time

Ukraine

April, 2017

Elsewhere far towards the yet to be risen sun, the War of Donbass continued to rage on in the distance. The gunfire and the roars shut out the outside world between the Russian army and the Ukraine forces. Footsteps and war cries rattled the village as a rocket obliterated a chunk of a house.

Dust, debris and glass powdered as a group of armed and masked(with the exception of certain members) operatives evade and escape from an army of Kadyrovtsy soldiers and Pro-Russian rebels, peppering after them with their rifles. Their mission was to rescue missing CIA agent Clint Goddard who was captured by Chechen forces and set to be executed. But when the captors have Pro-Russian rebels on their contacts list, what do they do? Now they were on the run, desperately making their way for the helicopter evac a few blocks away.

Gabriel Reyes, ex-Delta Force and the front man, turned around and fired automatic bursts with his 10 inch barreled HK416 fitted with an Eotech sight, a tactical foregrip, an AN/PEQ-15 ATPIAL and a suppressor while the team ran past him. His signature skull balaclava topped with a black hood glared at the rebels, designed to strike fear into their hearts, thus earning his nickname, Reaper. Doesn't seem to be working so far.

He stopped shooting and retreated, catching up with Amélie Lacroix, the team's sniper and second in command. Apart from the others, she was armed with a HK417 with custom attachments consisting of a RIS foregrip, a suppressor, a Harris bipod and a laser designator. As one of the most deadliest snipers from France, Amélie was known for her sharpshooting skills and her combined use of hand-to-hand combat and ballet dancing. Therefore, the others knew her as Widowmaker. Shortly, Reaper's earpiece from his comms radio brightened alive.

"Ghost Rider to Shadow 1, get your asses moving. I'm running out of fumes here and I'm getting shot at, over!"

"We're on the move right now! Stand by, over!" Reaper replied while hopping over uneven terrain.

Making their way down a hill through a blasted hole on a wide fence, American country-man Jesse McCree turned around and burst rounds with his AR-15 5.56/223 Carbine attached with a Crimson Trace lasergrip and ACOG scope against their pursuers. Everybody was quick to call him a cowboy based on his thick beard, ragged hair and the cowboy hat whenever he wasn't on the field. The Japanese Genji Shimada was also beside him, doing the same thing with his TDI Kriss Vector SBR .45 ACP attached with an extended mag, Trijicon SRS sight and an Osprey suppressor. He also had a hood over his balaclava.

Another operator assisting them was the newest member in Blackwatch. Keenan Cortell, AKA. Marvel, straight out of the US Air Force bringing in his experiences as a fighter jet pilot. Unlike everybody else, he only carried an automatic Glock 18, firing rapid bursts. He always preferred a pistol over an assault rifle but if he had to choose, his first pick would be his custom UMP-45. After taking down a group of rebels, another wave of them clambered after them, forcing the three to fall back.

"This mission was supposed to be clean and quiet!" McCree yelled while sliding down the rocky but short hill.

"How would it be if we're in the middle of a goddamn war-zone?!" Marvel retorted, following him.

While the rest of the team ran through the wide dry area, Irish operative Moira O'Deorain carried Goddard by his shoulders. Even though he went through some beating sessions, he was still able to walk on two feet. Ex-Delta Force operative, Nicolas Beltrán or Nico for short fought back against the rebels trying to flank their east using his camo AK-12 with Eotech sights, AFG grip along with the Mexican, Sombra. Nobody knew her identity when she joined, not even the FBI. Her beanie covered her purple highlighted hair with sunglasses. Her custom silver blue MP7A1 attached with a suppressor, vertical foregrip and an Eotech sight was able to pick off a row of rebels charging after them.

"It would be better if you guys lent me a gun." Goddard croaked.

"Sorry sir but you're our mission and we can't risk you getting killed." Moira said.

The operatives caught up and they formed a line, fighting back against the pursuing rebels far from their distance while Moira brought Goddard to the front. After what felt like forever, their pilot in a PZL-Świdnik Mi-2 arrived and landed in front of the team. The rotors hovered, blowing away the remaining grass on its landing zone.

"Ghost Rider to Shadow 1, we're here. Get your asses in. I don't wanna stay long."

"Copy, Ghost Rider."

As the rest of the team provided covering fire, Moria quickly placed Goddard into the helicopter. Once he was strapped in, Moira stepped near the doors and called after the team.

"Objective secure, everybody in the helicopter now!"

Genji and Marvel were the first to jump in while the rest continued to shoot back. One by one, the team jumped in while taking shots. Now it was Nico and Sombra's turn to get in. As Sombra removed her clip while backing towards the helicopter, Nico's gaze fell upon to his west where he saw one of the rebels crouched and aiming something pointy at them. It didn't take long for him to realize what it was.

"RPG!" He shouted.

Wasting no time, Nico pushed Sombra out of the way just in the nick of time. As Sombra fell to the ground, Nico was unfortunately standing on the radius of the missile seconds away near him. As soon as it landed, an ear-crunching thwoom erupted and smoke formed the area. The explosion damaged the helicopter, which almost had it tilting to its right with its rotors grazing the ground. As the smoke cleared out and the team got back to their senses, Sombra who had covered herself from the blast looked up and found Nico on the ground but he wasn't responsive.

"Nico?" Sombra called. He didn't move or cough, prompting her to get up and check on him. "Dios mios, Nico!"

When she got to him, it wasn't a pretty sight. Sombra almost felt something forced up her throat. Nico's body has almost turned into a limbless statue with both of his legs and left arm missing, as well as burns all over his chest and face. A puddle of blood formed underneath him, soaking the dry grass. His eyes were shut tightly as if something dug inside it.

"N-Nico's down! I repeat! Nico's down!" Sombra yelled.

Everybody gasped silently and gave each other glances except Reaper. He jumped out of the helicopter while bullets continued to rain after them. He went up towards Sombra and helped her pull Nico to the helicopter while the rest of the team provided covering fire. Moira got out as well armed with a spare HK416, managing to take out a pair of rebels closing in.

Once Reaper and Sombra got in with Nico's body, Moira stopped firing and hopped back in. The helicopter began to lift from the hot-zone and Marvel shut the slide. The rebels continued to shoot at them but the ceased shooting proved that the rebel's efforts were fruitless.

As the helicopter flew out of sight from the village, Reaper bent down near Nico's body and pulled his mask off along with hood, revealing his brown goatee. He began to apply CPR while Goddard and Moira came to assist with cleaning up and bandaging the missing limbs with the provided first aid. Blood was now forming on the surface, slowly sliding downwards.

"Come on, Nico! Wake up!" Reaper begged as he pressed his chest repeatedly.

There was no response. No cough or a faint feeling of a breath. Reaper didn't want to believe it. He kept on pressing his chest while the team waited for a miracle. Moira was the only person who knew an injury like this wasn't bound to be healed.

"Nico, don't you fucking die!" Reaper growled, raising his voice progressly.

He continued to press his chest to the point where it was starting to get pointless. Goddard and the team couldn't do anything but watch as Reaper slammed his hands on Nico's almost limbless body while throwing his entire energy on him. Eventually, Reaper stopped while heavily panting. His hands were covered with Nico's blood and went limp onto the surface. The fact that they were together in the Delta Force added further injury to his pain, like a bullet to the heart.

"Goddamn you, Nico," he whimpered as the wine red blood reached the end of the door slide, dripping off the gap. "Goddamn you."

(1 Year Later)

Even being awake, the alarm clock continued to beep without even stopping. Reaper was already up, sitting on the side of his bed while staring down at the floor. Only dressed in worn sweatpants with his old dog tags, the rest of his body was not so pure. There were multiple healed wounds on his body, a healed gunshot wound on the waist with an exit and another on his right shoulder. There were several more on his back, including some healed burns. His right arm also had a healed burn wound. As the alarm beeped mindlessly, Reaper sighed, fed up and turned off the alarm clock.

8:23 AM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Embassy of the United States

May, 2018

Blackwatch was never assigned any stations but the associates from NATO were kind enough to lend in the Embassy of the United States in Rome as the team's station. The Embassy was big enough for Blackwatch to fit in their own quarters and their operation centers for their missions, similar to the CIA and the DSS. Reaper parked his rented Fiat at the nearest parking garage and got out, dressed in all black rolled up shirt and pants with a NATO ID badge, because Blackwatch isn't an official unit. He didn't have time for breakfast since he wasn't much of an eater.

Reaper had to meet up with Widowmaker as the two have a debrief with Major Salvatore of NATO. After getting checked by guards and processed, Reaper picked up the FNG at the front entrance as ordered yesterday and made their way down the hallway, going into an elevator. While in the elevator, Reaper briefly glanced at the FNG. He was a black guy with a temple fade haircut and a beard. He looked like any average soldier: standard build and six feet tall. He also wore a navy blue t-shirt with tan pants and carried a backpack.

Before he went to the meeting, Reaper took the black guy to Blackwatch's quarters. When the two entered the room, the team who were inside stopped what they were doing once Reaper stepped inside. All of the members were in their casual clothes.

Genji was leaning at the corner, wearing a grey sweatshirt with the hood completely shading half of his face alongside black jeans. Marvel had a grey polo shirt and a cap topped with Ray Bans. McCree had his signature cowboy hat with a brown leather jacket over a blue tucked in shirt and tan pants.

Sombra's appearance has made some drastic changes for the past year. Although her shaved side hasn't grown back, her remaining hair was shorter and red highlights replaced her original colour as well as her clothes, shifting into a burgundy raglan tee and black skinny jeans. Other than Reaper, she had a NATO ID badge on her belt. Moira had her usual black shirt with a purple waistcoat. Their pilot, Tamara "Fio" LaPaglia, stood next to Sombra in a green open short sleeve shirt with a white t-shirt underneath. Born with a Brazilian descent, Fio shared similar experiences with Marvel as a US Marine pilot with the exception of a fighter jet.

"Who's this guy, Reaper?" Sombra asked, pointing at the black guy.

"This is...the FNG," Reaper answered. He didn't sound enthusiastic. "Sorry, didn't really catch your name."

"Raymundo Owens. But you can call me Ray."

The team were surprised about the news since nothing bad happened after the death of a former member but nonetheless, none of them had a problem with the news. However, Sombra didn't seem to like the new guy. Its like questioning a nobody in a top secret covert unit sent to replace a previously deceased member. Reaper also noticed that Widowmaker wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Where's Lacroix?" He asked.

"Already waiting for you at the meeting." Sombra replied, ignoring Ray as much as possible.

"Alright, while I'm at the meeting, you guys make Ray feel at home," Reaper then turned to Ray. "And you...don't cause any trouble while I'm gone."

He replied with a nod. Shortly, Reaper was out of the room and the door swung shut. There was nothing but silence surrounding the room as the team stared at Ray. The silence was eventually broken once McCree got up from the cases he was sitting on and approached Ray. His index finger was tapping intensely on his upper thigh as if he really wanted a cigar.

"Well, I suppose we make ya feel comfortable," he held out his hand. "I'm McCree, Jesse McCree."

Ray shook his hand back. "Nice to meet you."

He seemed warm enough. McCree then let go of his hand.

"So, which branch you from?" He asked.

"Army, 75th Rangers. You?" Ray replied.

"Marines, Force Recon. Those were the days, partner."

McCree then turned around and planned to introduce the team. He first gestured towards Moira.

"This is Moira, ex-Irish Army Ranger Wing. She's our field medic but if you're a bad guy who just got shot or just piss her off in general, she'll murder you slowly and painfully."

Moria warmly smiled and waved like it was a normal thing. After a moment of awkward silence, McCree then pointed towards Fio.

"This is Fio, our pilot. When it comes to any sort of aircraft, she'll fly 'em."

Fio simply smiled and nodded at him, prompting him to do the same. McCree then pointed to Sombra.

"Over there is Sombra, NSA's top cyber security agent and hacker. Her past is a mystery and that's why the NSA want her. She's wicked smart and asks no questions. Ask her to break into Elon Musk's servers, she'll get it done in no time." When Ray looked at her, Sombra avoided eye contact. McCree wasn't surprised at all. "Oh, don't worry about it. She's not so into new guys. She'll soften up eventually."

McCree turned towards Marvel where he was staring at Ray.

"That's Marvel, fresh out of the US Air Force. He's a pro with a fighter jet and he can take on just anybody with his hands. Trust me when I say you'll only last three seconds on the mat."

"Hey." Marvel uttered without waving.

Ray nodded. McCree eventually got to the last part, pointing at the hooded guy.

"And last and not least, Genji Shimada, our other hand-to-hand expert. Actually kicked Marvel's ass a buncha times."

"Once, actually!"

McCree ignored his comment and continued.

"Genji's a former Japanese officer from the Special Assault Team. Had a great record of locking up many bad crooks, especially one of the most ruthless Yakuza clans of Tokyo."

Genji just showed him a peace sign without a word.

"Widowmaker's our leader's second in command but she's currently in a meeting with the boss. You might get to meet her later. I'm gonna assume it's gonna be 'bout our next mission so don't get too comfy. But other than that...welcome to Blackwatch."

McCree patted Ray on the shoulder with a smile before walking away, leaving Ray alone. As everybody else got back to whatever they were doing, Ray stood there, figuring out how to get used to being in a special black ops unit. It was quite hard, especially for new guys like him.

As soon as Reaper and Widowmaker entered the briefing room, they were greeted by Major Salvatore, serving NATO for twenty years, sitting at the middle of the room with a desk containing folders along with two chairs. A pair of guards were also stationed at the corners. As the two sat down, they noticed the two folders conveniently placed for them.

"We have a situation in Zambia," Salvatore stated. "Two days ago, a squad of peacekeepers from the United Nations were captured and publicly executed during their routine patrol by a local militia group. We caught the word when a group of villagers came to one of our nearest bases in Zambia with the decapitated heads of the peacekeepers."

Reaper opened up the folder and picked up a file, showing four seperate pictures of men with blue berets. Underneath were some bullet points and additional notes with one of them by the name of 'Ejner Lütken' highlighted for whatever reason. Maybe he was the leader. Either way, Reaper had some divisive opinions on the decision.

"Obviously it was a stupid call to send in a four man team unarmed into a bad neighborhood." He said, leaning back on his chair.

"They were only ordered to observe and possibly maintain order there." Widowmaker added.

"She's right, Reyes," Salvatore said. "Zambia is still a war-zone and the UN were trying to maintain the peace by using their hearts and minds, not automatic weapons."

Reaper scoffed. "I've seen the work the UN does and with all due respect, this shit ain't working at all. It's just making the situation worse. I hardly believe they're even brave enough to handle this or even give a rat's ass about it."

Salvatore wasn't fazed by his comment but he just handed Reaper another folder. "Either way, this is a Blackwatch operation, Reyes. We've identified the militia who executed those peacekeepers."

Reaper flipped over the folder and took out the paper with a blurry photograph of a black man with braids and sunglasses, standing beside a couple of armed men in shemagh scarves.

"Your target is Arno Macaba. Younger brother of former warlord, Dede Macaba who was killed by the Namibian Defence Force five years earlier. Arno is trying to finish what his brother started by taking full control of South Africa. They had control of both Zambia and Namibia earlier but ever since the death of Dede, Namibia is in the government's hands which leaves Zambia, the only hole left for Arno to fill. The NSA has managed to pinpoint his location at a large camp which is 3 miles away from the village where the UN peacekeepers were killed. Airstrikes are a no go because the NSA has also found out that the militia are using the villagers for labor and we can't risk casualties or worse, have the CNN snoop around on NATO's activities. Which is why we need you and your team on the ground to eliminate him. Keep the mission as quiet as possible. We can't afford any traces leading to NATO. The C130 will be wheels up at 10. Good luck."

After that, words were exchanged and the two left the room. They went down the corridor towards the elevator where they passed a man carrying some files. It was dead silent on their way back.

"Heard about the new teammate." Widowmaker said, breaking the silence.

"You okay with that?" Reaper asked.

"Oui. You think I don't like newcomers?"

"I do, actually. Hell, I don't even want any more members on the team."

Widowmaker chuckled for a moment. The two both stopped after arriving at the elevator. "There's nothing wrong with having a new member on the team, Gabe. You didn't say anything when Marvel first arrived."

Everything went silent again as they stood together. The elevator sign above changed numbers.

"Considering what happened back in Ukraine, it shouldn't be a big deal with the new guy on the team."

Reaper sighed, silently admitting she had a point but he was still concerned.

"Lets just hope the kid won't screw up the mission and get himself or all of us killed."

The elevator arrived just as he finished and they were silent again for the rest of the trip back to the quarters.

10:20 AM, Local Time

Flying over Africa's Airspace

Prior to the boarding of the C130, everybody swapped into their compatible clothes to blend in the dark. Their weapons, each different, were also packed in containers for the mission. Marvel and Fio piloted the aircraft as part of their skills. Shortly, the aircraft went for the sky and made an estimated time of a twelve hour trip to Zambia.

Two hours has passed during the flight and everybody has been minding their own business. As the aircraft rumbled and shook lightly on the sky, Ray looked around where the team were. Sombra and Genji were resting, McCree had earphones on while napping, probably listening to some country music by the looks of him and Widowmaker was writing something on a notepad. Moira was reading a book titled "The Human Anatomy" which seemed to unsettle Ray but he pretended as if it wasn't a big deal. Sighing underneath his breath, Ray looked at the ring on his finger. A small smile slowly grew across his face.

"You're married?"

Ray looked up and noticed Reaper standing above him. He laid his finger off the ring.

"I am, sir."

Reaper nodded and handed him a small container. Ray looked at it in confusion before looking back at the leader.

"Leave the ring in the C130 once we get out," Reaper said. "We don't let our enemy know what we have in life for them to use against us…"

Ray's eyes slowly descended down to the surface of his ring. He had a point there.

"Plus you make us look bad. We're still single." Reaper added.

That comment was enough to make Ray chuckle, brightening the tension a little bit. After taking the container from Reaper, he left him to himself and Ray pulled the ring off his finger, placing it into the container. Just as he removed it, Ray seemed to feel a sense of guilt and pity. Maybe he never had taken the ring off for a while. Could be.

10:43 PM, Local Time

Zambia, Africa

Militia Camp

After arriving in Zambia, the team made another half hour ride towards the marked camp with the supplied helicopter. Fio landed them a few miles away from the camp before taking off. Apart from the other villages where it was pitch black, the camp was decently lit well enough to expose their presence. Prior to their mission, they all suited up in plate carriers although Marvel and Widowmaker had chest rigs and Kevlar under their clothes, ballistic helmets with night vision goggles, bandanas and ski masks except Marvel and Widowmaker and go bags.

First impressions of the camp: easy but looks don't fool anyone. The voices coming from the camp seem to give away more than just a group of useless goons. Shouts and wails can be heard from a distance. It was also surrounded by a line of fence which doesn't look professionally set up. Everybody else was fully armed.

While the rest of the team are moving to the camp, Sombra and Moira stayed back to keep watch in case any reinforcements arrive with Sombra using her personal tri rotor drone controlled by a tablet. The drone hovered above the camp where it was dark for anybody on the ground to see.

"Mini drone's activated." Sombra said on the comm.

The rest of the team moved through one part of the fence at the side of the entrance which was torn open where Reaper suddenly raised a hand, prompting the team to freeze. In front of them was a guard in a tank top with a chest rig standing in an isolated area. Smoke was visible in front of him.

"Genji, take him out." Reaper whispered, gesturing towards the guard.

Just as ordered, Genji moved forward while the team snuck behind the huts, consuming themselves in the shadows. The guard remained unaware of the green visor lighting up the shadows behind him. As the guard continued smoking, Genji slung his suppressed HK416C rifle. Once he was close enough, Genji went for the strike. He kicked the guard's calf, sending him on one knee and wrapped his elbow around his neck. Genji pulled him away from the open and towards the dark while he held onto his neck tightly. Once he stopped struggling, Genji slowly placed him aside and finished him off with a suppressed P229 Elite.

"Clear." He said with elusiveness within his tongue.

The team advanced from the shadows and towards the opening where light was with their weapons raised.

"Shadow 2," Reaper ordered. "Take the overwatch position and prepare to provide cover once we capture our objective. Shadow 5, provide cover for Shadow 2. Shadow 3 and 7, take the east side of the camp. Shadow 8, with me. Engage all hostiles with discretion and silence. Now let's move."

Everybody moved out once Reaper made a hand signal to confirm his command. Eventually, the team dispersed without looking back. Reaper and Ray made their way to the center of the camp where activity was more active. There were several posts with loudspeakers positioned around the camp and if they were to be activated...

While the team moved on, Widowmaker advanced towards the area of makeshift huts. She side glanced the huts around her for a brief moment before moving past a guard sitting on a pile of crates while sharpening his machete. He had just saw her walk past him once he looked up. He let out a shout and grabbed his rifle, calling after her. Before he could move towards her, he loosened his grip on the rifle and slumped onto the ground, face first. Blood began to form from the surface of his face. Genji appeared from the shadows, aiming his HK416C to his body.

Widowmaker unsurprisingly paid little attention to the scene and continued to make her way towards one of the towers nearby. Genji simply went off and dispersed into the shadows. Widowmaker climbed onto the top of the tower and the first thing she noticed in front of her was a guard on a chair asleep. His rifle was also on the floor. Widowmaker slung her rifle away and took out a fibre wire attached to her belt.

Slowly walking up to the guard, she quickly wrapped the wire around his neck once she reached a suitable distance. The surprise attack was enough to jolt the unsuspecting guard awake, causing him to writhe around and make choking noises helplessly. Her strength was intense, having dug into the skin of the neck with the wire. He tried to reach for the wire holding him back, only to pull himself off the chair, giving Widowmaker an even deeper choke. Shortly, he began to relax and his hands went limp. She dragged his body to the corner and unwrapped the wire off his neck.

Widowmaker raised her suppressed HK417 with the safety off. She looked through her Leupold Mark 4 scope, revealing a much proper view of the camp. She adjusted her scope, focusing her sights on the other tower placed across the camp. Two guards, both awake and on duty. Without skipping a beat, she picked off the guard behind the one watching. He suddenly turned but he too was taken out, joining his partner's fate. Thankfully, none of them fell off the tower. Soft smoke escaped the hole of the suppressor, disappearing into the sky. There was still enough bullets in the mag.

"This is Shadow 2, hostiles on the towers have been taken care of, over." She said, tapping into her earpiece.

After the notification, Widowmaker caught sight of Reaper and Ray below. She held her gaze at them, watching behind their backs.

"Shadow 1 and 8, drone's picking up three heat signatures in a hut, fifteen steps from your position. Possible location of the HVT, over." Sombra said.

"Copy. Moving to that location, out." Reaper replied.

As Ray and Reaper walked down between the huts, they noticed a figure a couple of steps away from them. They approached him closer and they find a guard in a shemagh scarf and a teal striped polo shirt smoking while leaning against a pile of weapon crates with his back facing the duo. Reaper slung his LWRC M6A1 carbine over his shoulder and took out a knife from his sleeve as he slowly approached the guard. Ray followed him and hid behind the crates he was on.

Once the time was right, Reaper grabbed the guard's shoulder and pulled him onto the crate's surface. He plunged the knife into the guard's torso rapidly before dragging his body off the crate. Blood was left behind on the surface. Just then, Ray caught another guard walk out of a hut near them. He had just discovered the absence of the guard when Ray aimed his SIG 516 at him. He opened suppressed rapid rounds, bringing the unsuspecting guard down with bullets in the torso. Reaper stood up from the body and noticed the dead guard Ray shot before equipping his rifle and continuing to move. While the two searched for the hut, Ray froze on the spot after looking at something shocking.

Through a wide gap from the huts, there was an open field heavily lit as if it was important. There were guards with rifles supervising with kegs of water placed around the area. Ray stared at the villagers digging something up at the middle of the field. He counted more than a dozen children, five slender and frail elders and almost half of the women. Even worse, he discovered a pair of them pregnant. Ray remained fixated on the field, having that urge to save the villagers. His hand on the foregrip tightened and his finger on the verge of slipping on the trigger. Suddenly, he felt a hand slap his shoulder and spun him, directly towards Reaper.

"Hey, we're not here for them. Macaba's our mission. Let's move."

They continued moving although Ray was still focused on the villager's suffering. Shortly, they found the hut with their target, evident by the flag attached to the front door. The two stacked up next to the door, holding their rifles tightly. They were able to hear muffled voices from the room. Reaper tapped on his earpiece, exchanging communication.

"This is Shadow 1. Me and Shadow 8 are preparing to breach on possible HVT location, out." He said.

Reaper made a hand signal, indicating breach and Ray nodded. The two got their rifles ready and Reaper turned the doorknob open. They went in, aiming their rifles. There were three men standing by the desk with their backs on them and the man in the middle had the same dreads from the picture but with a floral shirt and worn cargo pants. In front of them were some pictures attached on a board. That was definitely their target, Macaba.

One of the guards wearing a dirty sweatshirt under a Kevlar vest had just looked behind his shoulder to discover some uninvited intruders and said something in his own language to Macaba. The other guard also caught them once he let out some noise. However, they weren't quick enough once Ray and Reaper dispatched them instantly. Ray fired suppressed bursts at the guard with Kevlar to his nose and mouth while Reaper fired rounds at the other guard to the forehead.

Both of Macaba's guards fell to the ground with blood sloshing from their heads onto the wooden floor along with their rifles. Just as they took care of them, Macaba had fast reflexes to grab a M1911 from the desk. Ray had just noticed Macaba aim his pistol, directly at Reaper's line of sight.

"Look out!"

Ray swiftly stepped in front of Reaper just as Macaba pulled the trigger. The bullet struck Ray's left chest, stinging him hard. The loud gunshot rang across the entire room and possibly the majority of the camp. As he fell to the ground, Reaper caught the chance and shot Macaba, hitting him in the upper arm. Macaba let out a shriek and pressed his gun to the bicep before trying to retaliate by aiming back while leaving his arm to soak in blood. Reaper quickly finished him off with the 5.56 bullets sawing into his chest. As he slammed onto the desk, his pistol went off at the same time, hitting the wall. Reaper approached his body and shot at what once was the would-be warlord further with a suppressed Glock 17, staining the desk and the photographs with blood.

Confirming he was taken out, Reaper slipped his pistol back into his waist holster and ran up towards the new guy on the ground. That bastard's crazy, he thought. He bent down near Ray who was feeling for the spot where the bullet hit him. Surprisingly, he was fine.

"I'm good, sir." Ray assured. "Round only caught the plate."

Reaper silently sighed with relief. "Then get the fuck up. We gotta move now. Everyone sure as hell heard that shot by now."

Reaper held out his arm, prompting Ray to grab him by the forearm. After getting Ray up, he handed him his SIG 516. As Ray ejected the mag in exchange for a new one, he took point with Reaper following. They opened the door and prepared to hit back with anything the militia's got. Through Widowmaker's scope, all of the guards have begun to take their duties even serious and ran around, searching for the gunshot while the villagers stood in confusion.

"Chicos, you got hostiles moving towards your location, over." Sombra warned from the comm.

"Copy we're exfiling now. HVT has been neutralised." Reaper replied.

Widowmaker moved her focus onto Reaper and Ray. They stopped and took cover behind some rusty sedans as several guards approached their position. Widowmaker shifted her scope and aimed at the guards firing at the intruders. With immense accuracy, she managed to take out the group trying to waste them. Meanwhile, McCree and Marvel made their advance to the east entrance with McCree leading the escape. Suddenly, the two get a warning from Sombra.

"Shadow 3, you got three incoming hostiles approaching from the left corner."

Just as she said so, two guards ran past the left corner of the hut in front of them, just noticing the two. Before they could react, McCree mowed them down like cheese with his modified M4A1. However, the last one wasn't present. Marvel left a signal, prompting McCree to stand by while holding his rifle high. He hid behind the corner and slightly raised his suppressed FN Five Seven, the only weapon he brought with him. He moved a few feet back to make sure his shadow didn't give away his position. The guard's shadow below him got closer and once he appeared from the corner, Marvel shot a round at his foot, causing the guard to shriek and lose balance. Marvel shot his head as he fell forwards. Once the guards were dispatched, the two took a brief breather as if they ran a mile.

"Thanks for the heads up, Shadow 4!" McCree said.

There was a sudden pause. "Not a single thanks for my Azúcar?"

"That thing's got a name?"

"It's the only reason you two are still alive."

McCree turned towards Marvel, only to receive a glance from him. Marvel slightly waved a hand from his hip.

"It's kind of a cool name." He commented.

Meanwhile, Widowmaker continued to cover for Reaper and Ray, taking out guards trying to approach them with their rifles. At this point, most of the guards were aware that one of their tower guards aren't doing their job. Which was why Genji remained in the shadows, taking care of guards trying to reach the tower. After emptying the rest of the mag on the guards, Widowmaker ejected the mag with a tap on the mag release. As the empty clip bounced on the wood, she reattached a new clip from her pouch and retracted the port.

She regained her sight through her scope, noticing the villagers spinning around in confusion. Some of the guards were rushing towards them and mouthing orders at them while raising their rifles, scaring them back into the digging point.

"Shadow 3 and 7 are out." McCree notified on the radio.

Elsewhere, Ray and Reaper arrive at the eastern entrance but stop at the very spot. They crouched and positioned their rifles behind them, aiming across the area.

"Shadow 2 and 5," Reaper said. "Me and Shadow 8 have reached the east entrance. We'll provide covering fire for your escape. Get outta there now."

"Copy, Shadow 2 out." Widowmaker replied.

Widowmaker lowered her rifle and climbed down the ladder, landing back on the surface where Genji was waiting. As they head towards the east entrance, Widowmaker took point while Genji covered their rear. He still remained a stranger with that ski mask under his helmet. Shortly, a group of guards armed with rifles appeared in front of them and opened fire. Widowmaker hid behind a parked pickup truck while Genji disappeared into the shadows. As they continued to fire at them, Widowmaker picked off a flashbang grenade from her chest rig.

"Flashbang!" She exclaimed, tossing it out in the open to where most of the guards were.

There was a thunderous explosion, ceasing the gunfire. It appeared the militia has never heard of a flashbang before. Switching her rifle into automatic mode, she appeared from the truck and opened fire with rapid bursts, gunning down the blinded guards. At the same time, Genji appeared from the corner and shot down the remaining two guards, kicking one of them into a pile of crates. The two continued to head out of the open.

"Shadow 2 and 5, you have two hostiles about to cut you off." Sombra warned.

As usual, two more masked guards appeared from the corner of the remaining huts. Widowmaker quickly slung her rifle and pulled out her suppressed MK 23 from her waist holster. With extreme precision, she dropped them down one by one with a headshot for each. As they both slumped to the ground, the two walked past their bodies and headed off where the gunfire has seemingly started to die out.

The two finally made it to the east entrance where Reaper, Ray and the rest of the team were waiting. As they escaped to the extraction area, Ray hesitated for a moment. He looked behind, feeling concerned for the villagers who were still in the camp. A couple of seconds later, Ray eventually turned away and caught up with his team.

11:25 AM, Local Time

Aviano Air Base, Italy

After another flight back to Italy, the C130 touched down at the Aviano Air Base miles away from Rome. As the team walked down on the platform with their weapons in their crates, Ray slipped his wedding ring back on while everybody else went on their way. Several vehicles passed them and loud aircraft occupied the airfield.

"Hey Ray, hang back for a bit."

Just as he stepped on the surface, Ray heard Reaper call him. While the others walked away, Ray got back into the aircraft where Reaper leaned against the side. Ray felt uneasy, worried about his actions earlier. It would make sense since he wanted to try to rescue the villagers from the militia. Reaper let out a sigh before looking back at Ray, uncrossing his arms.

"Listen," he started. "I appreciated your intention to protect me back at that camp but you need to understand that this unit is not your average team. I have responsibilities and I'll be damned if I lose anymore of you. So I'll keep this brief. Don't ever try to sacrifice your life again just to save mine. I also get that you wanted to help those people back at the camp, believe me, but you must understand that the mission comes first. There were other ways we could save those villagers without getting them killed in the crossfire."

The scariest thing about what Reaper said was...he was right. Who knew what could've happened if he actually did let the villagers loose. This would've resulted in the villagers getting hit and possibly killed in the crossfire. Reaper sighed once again and looked back at Ray with a slight sight of gratitude.

"Other than that...you did good." He said, patting him on the shoulder.

As Reaper walked past him and stepped onto the surface, Ray could only stand there wondering. He looked back at Reaper who was still heading off while the vehicles passed and soldiers marched away. Ray still felt uncertain about his position in a black ops unit.

1:00 PM Local Time

Rome, Italy

Embassy of the United States

While the rest of the team stayed in the embassy doing whatever they usually do, Reaper had just finished his report on his mission for NATO and eventually took the rest of his alone time on the balcony on the third floor. Although there were guards patrolling the area, it didn't bother him. In front of him was the open view of the city of Rome. The baby blue sky occupied the horizon with no sign of any clouds. From a distance, he watched a plane silently fly off above and beyond.

"I knew I would find you here."

Reaper didn't need to look behind. The French feminine voice was enough to give away her presence. As he remained attached to the horizon, Widowmaker approached beside him, joining him.

"Guess the rookie did alright for his first mission." She said.

"He did." Reaper replied, trying to drive the conversation away.

"Then what seems to bothering you?"

It was normal for Widowmaker to be persistent. She always found out, eventually. That's what makes her good at her job. After all, she was his second in command and the deadliest of the team. Reaper sighed deeply and took his hands out of his pockets.

"The rookie took a bullet for me."

"And that's a bad thing?" Widowmaker asked. "Je ne comprends pas. He saved your life."

"Yeah but he almost died. Who knows what could've happened if the bullet penetrated the armor."

She wasn't surprised. It was a normal thing since she was with him for years.

"Gabe, we all knew the risks when it came to jobs like this and you forgot that it's our job to keep all of us in one piece."

Reaper stayed silent. He didn't look in the mood to continue the conversation. Widowmaker got his message and started to turn away.

"Maybe you're right," Reaper suddenly said. "I just hate losing more people on this team."

Widowmaker didn't expect him to reply at all. She sympathized with his idea of losing another member close. It started to remind her about her loss of someone dear to her. Widowmaker eventually walked away, leaving Reaper to himself.

#blackwatch #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch blackwatch #black ops au #modern black ops au #fanfic #fanfiction #my fanfic #my fanfiction #fanfics #fanfictions #my fanfictions #my fanfics #wftc141's fanfics #wftc141's fanfictions #wftc141's fanfic #wftc141's fanfiction

[creepypasta-fandom-is-trash]

Immature

hey, guys, I’m really sorry for not being active as of late. However, I’ve been working on this fiction assignment and I um... I hope you like it. 

I love my apartment. The cloud gray walls, the dark wood trimming, it all just radiates the professional atmosphere that completes my new adult life. The sleek, modern Ikea furniture combined with the frugal paintings of a young art connoisseur. Maturity doesn't come easy, and with the changing of one's age comes the changing of one's mind. I am an adult, a strong, independent, graceful adult who doesn't go to college parties. I am...

“Weak,” I mutter, chowing down on my third sub sandwich of the day “I'm so weak.”

Mayonnaise, cheese, and pastrami, such a beautiful combination for a blossoming man-child like myself. The rough, unshaven shadow of a beard brushes my fingers as I wipe away leftover mayonnaise from  my sandwich. Regret fills my chest as I place a hand on my stomach, it's usually flat due to my terrible budgeting skills; however, a large bump has formed where my stomach is, effectively showing how many sandwiches I've eaten. Typically I don't eat nearly this much, but since the death of my downstairs neighbor, Debby, I just... haven't been right. She was such a sweet old lady. Always collected vintage kid's bowls and beanie babies, Debby was a darling and I miss her so much. Even her obnoxious blue nail polish was endearing.

A sigh leaves my throat as I drag my gaze down to the bowl of Waffle Crispies on the coffee table. A second - much louder  - sigh leaves my lips as I reach over and grab the cheap plastic. I don't know where my roommate keeps these or where he gets them, but he has a collection of kids' bowls that he uses to eat his....cereal? I think it's cereal. It's basically just sugary packing peanuts in the shape of waffles, but he likes them and I don't have to buy them so I don't care.

"Herbert!" I call into the blackness of the hallway "Clean up your junk when you're done with it!" Looking down into the soggy mess, I ponder gently whether or not my roommate is an actual adult male. After all, the dinosaurs on this particular bowl are made for a toddler, my neighbor's kids would be better off with this bowl. Actually, now that I look closer, it would appear that this bowl has a gratuitous amount of scratches on its surface. The thing looks like it's been thrown out a window. A chip off the side allowing a hair-thin crack to trace down the side of the bowl. Knowing Herbert's tendency to sleep in high up places like a lunatic, he did this.

Maybe Herbert is just a huge whiny teenager who decided to live life to the edgiest extent by moving in with some dumb liberal arts major. His dirty pine green hoodie? His tendency to sleep in closets? it just reeks of immaturity. At least I can invest in some bowls that aren't cracked. Grumbling under my breath, I  take the bowl to the sink and prepare to dump the goop down the drain.  The dark pink strawberry milk gushing between the soggy golden cereal bits make me stare in mild disgust. The mush falls against the  chrome sink with a disgusting plop, the sound causing a shiver to race down my spine. Something smells oddly copper-like about this milk. Could it be the spoon?

"What are you doing?" The gravelly voice of my roommate startles me out of my trance, his lanky frame most likely posted up in the doorway.  I turn to face him, nearly gagging at the sight of his medical-masked face. It's not that I dislike people who enjoy those "Japanese medical masks", the one's you're supposed to wear when you're sick but don't want to buy a bunch of throwaway ones. It's honestly bizarre.  

"I'm taking care of the gross cereal you left?" I answer, a tad insulted by his glaring blue gaze underneath that forest green hood.

"I wasn't finished with it," Herbert groans, stuffing his ashy white hands into his pockets and crossing his jean-clad legs.

"It was mush,"

"So's your brain, apparently, but I'm not dropping it into the sink,"

It's at this point that I notice the vague squirming noise coming from the sink. A squishy squelching from the lump of waffle cereal. Turning around, I gaze down into the gross lump, watching as small brown bodies writhe around in the mush.

"Maggots..." I gasp softly, backing away from the tiny creatures. The sound of those itty bitty bugs chowing down on the cereal ringing in my ears. My heart throbs wildly in my chest, the soft white lights on my ceiling swirling with my stomach. A large, soft object blocks my path backwards.

"Jamie, get out of the way," Herbert whispers, pulling me aside and walking over to the cabinet. The scrawny man grabs a cup from the cupboard, scooping the maggots into the cup.  As I watch him lift up the maggot-filled glass cup I think back at all the bowls of Waffle Crispies he's eaten. Hundreds of bowls of crispies eaten just out of sight, just away from my sight. Had they always contained such filth? Tenderly, with the gentleness of a trained surgeon, Herbert reaches into the glass, plucking out a long, frail object riddled with worms.

“What... is that...” I whimper, pulling my knees to my chest and shivering. Herbert hums, setting down the cup and slipping a pale finger under his mask. Sweat pools and runs down my back, soaking my shirt and causing a violent shudder to race through my body. Slowly, Herbert pulls down his mask. Beneath the black cloth lays something... filthy. Horrible. Bile rises in my throat as my eyes widen.  A large, thin-lipped grin wraps around his features, his teeth like a dog's and his tongue like a  worm wiggling out the side of his gaping maw. Herbert's being shakes violently Like a father to his newborn, Herbert gently pulls the writhing maggots from the object in his hand, tossing them back into the bowl.

“Pet, pet, pet, pet,” Herbert mutters, his lips remaining statue still and his piercing blue eyes staring down at the pale object. Upon picking off each worm I note the crimson hunks of meat still clinging to the glistening white bone of the object. Obnoxious blue nail polish glitters in the kitchen lighting. I am not allowed much time to absorb the nature of the mauled finger before Herbert opens his cavernous mouth and bites down onto Debby's finger. An audible snap emits from the deceased woman's bone as Herbert gnaws the meat off. Bile rises in my throat and I find myself squirming in my spot. Disgust is surely written all over my features as my demented roommate pull off his hood, letting light bathe his matted hair. A third, brilliant blue eye blinks from above the beast's right eye, an empty socket blinks above the left. Horrible grinding comes from the beast's mouth as he lovingly picks up the cup of maggots, their squelching growing ever louder as he carries them out of the room.

Silence fills the air, a cool draft bathing my  damp skin in icy waves. Confusion twists around in my chest as I slowly sit up and gaze around the kitchen.

“That...” I pant, scowling and staring at the exit of the room “was so immature.” groaning, I stand up and wipe my hands off on my pants. White hot anger brews in my chest as I storm out from the room, stomping down the hallway and into my room. Asylum gray walls close in around me as my clammy hands run through my meticulously groomed locks. Why? Why does he have to be so immature? He even did some of that stupid special effect makeup to scare me. What a dumb prank.

“It didn't work!” I shout, slamming my fist into the door and growling “You hear that?? It did not work! Your dumb immature prank hasn't affected me at all. At. All! And using Debby as leverage to scare me?! That's low even for you!” Snarling, I grab the nearest item, a large book, and throw it at the door. A loud thud resounds from the door as the thick cover cracks against the wood. Furious, I throw myself onto the large, perfectly made bed and growl to myself. Closing my eyes, I try my hardest to fall asleep; however, despite my best attempts, I can't help but remember the sound of those maggots. The slimy, squelching, filthy beasts plague my hearing, the crunching of the fake finger meshing in with the horrible sounds. Deep down I feel an emptiness grow, just as though those maggots are burrowing deep into my core like a gang of mango worms. The sound grows deafening, and if I didn't know better, I'd say that he's in here with me, eating that finger.  Grumbling softly, I cover my ears and try to block out the sounds, tears prick at my eyelids as I sniffle and whine. A gentle voice whispers, perhaps from the back of my mind, perhaps from under the bed.

“Are you crying? How immature”

[growinstablog]

How to Be an Instagram Hipster

Are you trying to get that Instagramhipster vibe, but you don’t know how? Learn how to nail the basics of being an Instagram hipster and soon you’ll have a well-curated feed of beautiful, inspiring photos.

Steps

Method 1 of 4:

Setting Up an Account

1

Choose a username. Try to pick a variation of your own name, like your first initial and your last name (“jsmith” for John Smith) or your first and last name joined with an underscore (john_smith). You can also try eliminating the vowels (JHNSMTH) or replacing them with V’s (jvhnsmvth).

Use your nickname, or pair your name with a passion or hobby. If you love to bake and plan to post lot’s of food pictures, something like “SmithBaker” will work.

Choose a name that rhymes or uses alliteration so it sticks in people’s minds.

Avoid overly cutesy or childish names, like “unicorn_xoxoxo”.

2

Write a bio. Try to describe yourself or your account in just a few words. List a few things that are important to you. For example: “Coffee/Photography/My Dog Charlie” or “Explorer, Dreamer, and Writer.” Add a link if you have a blog, Twitter, Tumblr, or other website you want people to check out.

Many Instagram hipsters identify their city or country in their bio: “Ceramic artist based in Austin, TX.” You may simply wish to state where you’re from and nothing more.

Try to think of a quote that inspires you or sums up your personality. It can be funny or insightful. Think about a line from a movie, book, or song that you relate to, or post a silly pun.

3

Choose your profile picture. Choose either a portrait-style picture or one that shows you in your element or a beautiful location. If you have a photo of yourself standing in front of a lake in the mountains, that’s the one you want to use. Desaturate the picture to give it a vintage feel.

If you’re a girl, style yourself wearing a beanie or a floppy hat. Wear your regular glasses or sunglasses (bonus if the frames are round). You want your hair to be loose and wavy if possible, or opt for a popular top-knot and forget the hats. Makes sure your makeup is on point — consider a bold lip color.

If you’re a guy, you may want to rock the beanie look as well. Glasses and a beard are a must. Wear a flannel or a vintage t-shirt.

Method 2 of 4:

The Basics

1

Know the Instagram hipster uniform. The essential hipster clothing items include: a beanie, Herschel backpack, Pendleton blanket, flannels, hiking boots with wool socks and, of course, skinny jeans.

Don’t forget eyewear. Try over-sized plastic frame glasses, Buddy Holly glasses, Ray-Ban Wayfarers, and round sunglasses. Pick vintage items over mainstream labels, and layer with cardigans, sweaters, and jackets.

Women should also invest in leggings, cute vintage dresses, and sun hats or “floppy hats.”

2

Use hashtags and emojis thoughtfully. Going crazy with the hashtags can help you get more followers at first, but once you’ve started building a following, try to dial it back. Popular hipster hashtags include #liveauthentic #livefolk #exploremore #fromwhereistand #wildernessculture and #kinfolk. These are hashtags that are used and searched for by other hipsters, and can also get the attention of hipster publications like Folk Magazine and Kinfolk.

See if you can come up with your own hashtags that other people might use, like the #chasinglight hashtag.

Try using a combination of emojis instead of a text caption.

3

Elevate your selfies. Never, ever, ever do the “duck lips” pose. It’s unflattering and definitely not hipster. Get someone else to take your photo whenever possible, as selfies can come off a little narcissistic or desperate.

If you do post a selfie, make sure it’s interesting. Try only showing a portion of your face, or using a dramatic filter.

4

Post once a day. You don’t want to overwhelm your followers with 15 pictures one after the other, but you also want to have a presence in their feed. Choose your best, most striking photos, edit them carefully, and post only one or two each day.

Stretching out posting photos from a short trip has the added bonus of making it appear you are taking a much longer vacation. People will wonder how you pull off traveling all the time –don’t you work or have school?

Use a free service Iconosquare or SimplyMeasured to find out the optimal time to post for the most likes, comments, and views.

Method 3 of 4:

Choosing What to Post

1

Get out into nature and visit national parks. Many hipster photos show people outside, enjoying the majesty of the outdoors. Brewing coffee at your campsite, wrapped in a Pendleton blanket; standing on a foggy mountain top; hanging your legs over a precipice; or standing in front of a waterfall, your back to the camera — these are all photos that will inspire FOMO in your followers.

Search for scenic hikes in your area, or check out nearby locations tagged by other Instagram users.

2

Take portraits in front of colorful walls or murals. Have a friend strike a pose in front of some street art, like a brightly painted wall. Center the photo, capturing your friend either from the waist-up or full-body. Make the color pop by adjusting the temperature (or warmth) and increasing the saturation. Skip the filter.

Look for crazy wallpapers to use as the background for portraits, too.

Take a photo of just a hand holding something in front of the wall, such as an ice cream cone or a pineapple.

3

Curate some minimalist shots. Visit a coffee shop with great lighting and take a photo of your latte art, your croissant, and the dog-eared paperback you’re reading (make sure you shoot this from directly above the items). Or take a photo of your collection of succulents, carefully moved into a pleasing arrangement.

Try the “all white shot.” Place something in front of or on a white wall. If you don’t have great lighting, lower the temperature or warmth and increase the exposure.

Arrange a collection of similarly colored flowers, or fall leaves that gradually transition from red to yellow. Place them in a line or a grid, then snap and edit so the colors really pop.

4

Make it your own. These are all ideas to get you started, but if you are taking picture of things you love and care about, people will respond. Use these suggestions as a springboard for your own amazing photos.

If you’re new to photography, sign up for a class and learn about the essentials of taking a good photo, like framing and lighting.

Method 4 of 4:

Using Filters and Apps

1

Download the VSCO app immediately. VSCO is the essential editing app for hipster photos. With tons of filters and different ways to tinker, you can get professional-grade images. VSCO also offers their own platform, the VSCO grid, to share your photos.[1]

Use the #vscocam hashtag whenever you post a photo you edited using VSCO. Many people search using that hashtag, and it will guarantee you get at least a couple likes from strangers.

2

Use Pic Stitch to fame and make collages. You can select different frames that allow you to fit multiple photos into one picture. You can also use it to whiten teeth or remove blemishes for that flawless selfie.[2]

3

Use Everyday for time-lapse. Have you ever wanted to do one of those time-lapse photos that shows your face changing over time? Everyday is the perfect app for that. Take a selfie every day and Everyday will line them up, then turn them into a gif. If you can stick with it, this could be a year- or even years-long project that is sure to get tons of likes.[3]

Community Q&A

Warnings

Never, ever give out your phone number or address to people you haven’t met in real life, or meet up with anyone you haven’t already met in real life. It could be dangerous for you and others.

Never, ever bully or hurt others in real life or online. There are too many suicides from bullying each year, over 1000 per year. Help stop bullying by going to www.stopbullying.gov.

https://growinsta.xyz/how-to-be-an-instagram-hipster/

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[vegandoughnut]

PART 4: Tall Tails, Rambling Yarns

"Do you offer any gluten free toppings for the vegan ice cream?" A guest wearing a beanie and striped sweater asks at the counter. Harper smiles.

"Yes ma'am. All the syrups, the chocolate chips, dark and gold raisins, nuts and if you want, we can crumble a gluten free cookie on top. But the graham crackers and Pirouline wafer sticks, mostly the unspecified items, are not gluten free" she explains, pointing out the items on the big chalkboard menu above the wall counter with all the kitchen appliances.

"Thanks. Fantastic" says the guest.

Anekke excuses herself and leaves from behind the counter. Pradeep watches as he pulls on a pair of see through gloves.

"These better be the nitrile ones. Boris knows I'm allergic to latex" he mumbles. "You should let Kitt know. You know, just in case" says Harper.

"Excuse me?" Says Pradeep, putting down a measuring cup harder than intended. "What's going on? You keep mentioning Kitt"

"Huh? You said something?"

Pradeep scowls, unimpressed with Harper's faux oblivion. In fact, it was getting under his skin. People must really be jealous that he and Kitt actually have something. That they are real friends and actually enjoy one anothers company. Harper had no right to try and be like Anekke, who was closer to Pradeep and allowed to joke about him and Kitt. Harper was trying too hard to be "one of the guys" and it was ticking Pradeep off.

He prepares a customer's order of rooibos tea and oatmeal raisin cookies on a wooden tray, and decorates the edges of the tray with a few fake Fall leaves. The customer takes the order and pays, then resumes a spot at one of the tables.

He watches Harper hand the gluten free customer their kawaii styled ice cream order in a pretty parfait glass. As usual, the ice cream scoop is decorated with a cat face using chocolate syrup. She always did it the best since she went to art school. He had to give her that. At least she had some kind of talent to make up for her lack of social graces.

He then turns his attention to the thump of Kitt's heavy booted footfalls. Such a tiny girl made such a sound. He smiles slightly, wiping down the greasy wooden counter.

Kitt says something to Carl who then heads to the back and downstairs. Pradeep runs the back of his neck and shrugs.

Anekke comes back to the bar and washes her hands over the stainless steel sink against the wall.

"So Stephen's letting me take the extra hours" she boasts.

"Excellent" says Pradeep. "You can't leave me here with them"

"Oh gosh I know"

"Hmmm..." Pradeep pulls out the folded daily program from his pants pocket. "Kumlyun has downstairs now? No wonder she fell off the map"

"That's the best post if you ask me. Especially for her" she says with a sneer. "I could do 3 whole slots there except having to overhear Boris on the phone yelling at his son gives me a headache"

Pradeep laughs.

"I have break with you downstairs" Kitt says to Carl when he returns to the floor. "If you need to talk" she adds, slowly, wary. "I'm just waiting for Kumlyun and Humbert to relieve us"

"Oh, right, Humbert takes my post" says Carl, examining his daily program, which he only folded in half and managed to fit it in his pants pockets.

"Uh. I wish I had pockets that deep" says Kitt, chewing the inside of her cheek. She throws a glance back at Gary Nygard who appears to be enjoying his relative privacy and lack of attention that Kitt has tried for the past hour to maintain.

"Hi" Carl says to Humbert who steps next to him silently, holding out his hand. Carl goes to shake it but he moves it away and points at the lanyards hanging from Carl's other pocket.

"Those should go in the apron pocket. Did Stephen or Boris give you an apron?"

"I don't have on my half apron, Humbert. It's okay. Its Carl's first day" Kitt cuts in. Humber hurrumphs as Carl hands him the lanyards.

"Protocol is protocl" he grumbles. "Good luck" he says to Carl. Kumlyun appears, poking Kitt in the arm.

"You're good to go girl" says Kumlyun, wiping her hands on her corduroy skirt. She must have eaten something crumby.

"Let's go Carl. We need this lunch more than ever" says Kitt, dating towards the back staircase. "Oh crap, Pradeep" she mutters. Carl awkwardly heads towards the staircase, looking back. Kitt goes to Pradeep at the bar.

"Kittie MacIntyre with the caramel glaze and raspberry on top. Enjoy babysitting so far?" Pradeep asks.

"Pradeep Gupta. Out here looking like a Bollywood snack with those perfect eyebrows...." Kitt teases back. "Carl is really not so bad. He's... bewildered all the time but he's a sweet guy. It could be that he's new"

Pradeep moves his head side to side and shrugs. "If you say so. Let me know how it goes with Mr Carl a.k.a Clark"

Kitt pinches Pradeep's shoulder playfully before taking her hidden box of muffins from under the counter, then striding towards the staircase. She sees Harper grimace in disgust before she disappears down the stairs.

"Hating a*s Buzzfeed looking b---" Kitt stops herself as she bumps into Boris while descending the single flight of steps. "Oh! Sorry!" She says quickly. Boris ruvs his shiny bald head, adjusts his tortoise shell glasses and goes up towards the office, uttering not a single word.

Kitt shakes off her chill and enters the breakroom with its cozy lit scented candles, cat scratching posts and junky arrangement. She takes a seat on one of the couches and unfolds one of the wooden tray tables from against the wall.

She watches as Carl sits on the couch next to her and does the same. They take out their lunches in silence. The sounds of containers opening and tea pouring fills in the thick warm air.

"So, how do you like it so far?" Kitt asks.

"Huh? The veggie wrap?"

"No. The job"

"Oh, I like it so far. Got my allergies under control, getting used to the schedule, and the atmosphere is really something. Everyone is so friendly. The customers are quirky and bring books to read. It's great" he says before taking another big bite of his tofu scramble wrap, picking up slivers of sundried tomato that escaped the filling and popping them in his mouth.

Kitt focused hard on her oatmeal, trying not to ask the invasive questions she had for Carl. Looking at him, he was an above average attractive man in his early 20s, with a small beard, parted dark hair and kind blue eyes. He wore a semi-fitted button down and hoodie with black chinos, and comfortable looking loafers.

There was no reason to fault him for his naivety or clumsiness. It's just quite possible that he's used to being an only child, spending a lot of time with his parents.

"Are you a homebody?" Kitt asks before she could stop herself.

"Yeah, how'd you guess?" Carl asks, sipping coffee from his thermos loudly, concluding the gulp with an impressed "mmmm that's good mocha"

"Just guessing. I'm into MBTI and stuff. I like trying to place personalities going by subtle signs. I guess I read too much Psychology Today in my high school library years ago"

Carl grins genuinely. "I used to too. Mostly looking to see if I could find things I could relate to, and I guess to try to understand people, but, it's still a mystery. The way brains work"

"Right" says Kitt, running her fingers through and pulling her long burgundy dreads over her shoulder. To Carl she looked swallowed by her hair. Which dwarfed her frame more than her scarf and cardigan. Her fingers looked so dainty bringing spoonfuls of goopy oatmeal to her glossy mouth.

He didn't mention anything about earlier. Kitt was a combination of relieved and curious at the same time. Was it true? Was he really.....? She texted Pradeep, asking him if he wanted to drive her to Food Emporium after work.

"I like how eco conscious this place is. Paper straws, cloth napkins..."

The word napkins jolts Kitt out of her slight daze. Her ears perk up.

"Everything being reusable. The takeout boxes being compostable. I mean it's really something" Carl continues. "Hey. Sorry if I'm rambling. I could stop if you want-"

"Oh it's fine, really" says Kitt, scrolling her Twitter profile on her phone, tweeting away about Gary Nygard being gorgeous in real life and how shimmery lip gloss was only found in nude colors.

"Smells like maca. Do you put maca powder in your oatmeal?" Carl asks.

Kitt rolls her eyes but at her phone.

"Yeah. Need the extra vitamins or whatever. Pradeep put me on to it. But he literally puts everything in his oatmeal. I make fun of him for adding turmeric. Like he'll eat pizza flavored oatmeal, no lie" says Kitt.

Carl laughs.

"That doesn't sound too bad. It's kind of like soup right?"

"No. It's like cereal. Gross" says Kitt. She texts Pradeep about that too. Pradeep texts back with,

[Now you're telling him my business? I've got something for you if you keep that up]

Kitt grins widely at the implications.

"Wow time flies" says Carl as his phone alarm goes off. "It couldn't hurt to have an extra ten minutes. 30 minutes is so short. My internship gave us a whole hour"

"Ugh. I wish. But no. We're not that lucky. And frankly, we don't get paid enough to eat into our schedules. Ugh. Life at Cat Cafe" says Kitt, putting her empty insulated bowl, spoon and such into her lunch tote and bringing it to the sink to quickly wash what she could.

"Is it really time?" She asks over the sound of the gushing faucet.

"Five minutes till post" says Carl, folding up his table and tossing his brown paper bag into the paper recyclables bin, and the spotless foil into the glass, plastic and metals bin.

"That was great. Really great" he adds before heading up the stairs. Kitt watches, then puts her washed and dried stuff into her locker.

TBC

#furistas cat cafe fan fiction #furistas cat cafe #furistas #cat cafe #mobile game fan fiction #vegan doughnut #cat cafe fan fic #fan fic #transman oc

[sureuncertainty]

Sure Uncertainty OC Reference! 

After coloring Leigh’s picture, I realized that I basically never color anything, and it might be good to show people the color schemes for my OCs! And so I thought I’d combine it into a handy dandy reference post for anyone looking to.... idk.... draw them ever? just you know. just in case. (also something i can link to if people need a color reference) 

Anyway, at the top is Antony and roma (idk which ones, doesn’t matter since they look the same), middle is Principal Duke and Leigh on the top and Emma and Addie on the bottom (dunno why it’s so blurry, sorry about that), and then the bottom picture is Gene, Angel, and Lucy. 

More detailed physical and clothing descriptions under the cut

Antonys: blonde hair, blue eyes. Defined jaw, taller, broad shoulders still kind of on the skinny side. Antony D wears t-shirts and basketball shorts, Antony A wears a grey hoodie sweatshirt and jeans with sneakers. D’s hair is a little messier and sticks up just a bit more in the front than A. 

Romas: brown hair (dark-ish but not super dark), hazel/brown eyes. Round face, freckles. Kinda chubby. Roma D wears sweaters and jeans and sometimes overalls. Roma A wears band t-shirts (sometimes with a jacket) and ripped shorts and converse. A’s hair is a tad shorter and a tad messier. Their hair is wavy almost curly, thick, and short, just a bit above their shoulders. 

Principal Duke: reddish brown curly hair, blue eyes. Square face, a bit of stubble on his chin. Stocky, short. Wears professional clothes, often a vest. 

Leigh: dark red hair (dyed, so not a natural color), blue/green eyes. Often wears a beanie. Average build, average height. Wears lots of flannel, colorful clothes, shirts with graphics or puns on them, and sneakers or converse. 

Emma: blonde hair, shoulder length, wavy, but usually done up in a bun. Blue eyes. Small rectangular glasses that sit on the bridge of her nose. Sharp features, long nose. Tall and slender. Wears sweaters and skirts or long pants generally. Always wears a cross necklace. 

Addie: brunette hair (dark brown), very curly, very long. Often done up in a high ponytail with a bow. Think Merida level curly, but she controls it very well. Brown eyes. Wears lots of makeup. Fit, very conventionally attractive. Wears tank tops (her favorite color is yellow), and short skirts. 

Gene: jet black hair, dark brown eyes. Asian/Italian. Has a small beard (a la Flynn Rider). Short, very slight. Wears button up shirts and brown pants most of the time. Very skinny. 

Angel: bleach blonde hair, styled in a pixie cut. Light blue eyes. Wears very heavy makeup. Ears pierced multiple times. always wears a black choker necklace, and often other pieces of jewelry like necklaces and bracelets. Dresses in all black,  always wears high heels. Very short, and fairly small. Thin, but still curvy.

Lucy: light brown/dark blonde hair. Very long (to her waist) if it’s down, but is generally put in a braid. Grey eyes. Wears rectangular glasses with rounded edges. Average height, average build. Wears sweaters and pastels. 

#not that people draw my characters much but now you have a nice reference if you ever want to! #personality wise though you'd have to ask me or scroll through their tags on my blog #sure uncertainty #my art #my characters #aemelia rambles