#enterprise outfits rated

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Gala (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: 18+, just lots of thirst and suggestiveness Word count: 1.9k

Summary: You attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.

Author's Note: Requested by and dedicated to @queenofmean14 Bit cracky and intended to be humorous 😜 Also credit to @broooookiecrisp from whom I pilfered the job details of her modern Anthony.

“He’s here.” Security announced in your earpiece. Not that you needed them to. You knew the Jaguar as it pulled up. So did the line of paparazzi who started to jostle for the clearest shot. But when he stepped out, you didn’t even know your own name. Anthony Bridgerton, CEO of Bridgerton House Enterprises and your boss, was going to make tonight even more difficult for you.

He had talked to you about his planned outfit beforehand, but you hadn’t gotten a preview and hadn’t envisioned it like this. A perfectly tailored velvet tux jacket accented with a diamond bee brooch. Smart shoes, an effortlessly coiffed wave of hair and most arresting of all, a pair of sleek shades that he slid on as he exited the car even though it was long past sundown. An errant corner of your brain replayed some 80’s song lyrics, but you couldn’t deny that the entire look worked. It worked entirely too well for you as your body flushed with heat and breathing suddenly became a task. The man could wear the hell out of a tux.

Granted, he always looked mouthwatering no matter how he was dressed, and as his executive assistant for the span of eight months you had seen the spectrum of his wardrobe. Everything hung so perfectly on his muscled frame, exuding old money power with a currently fashionable touch. Clothes made the man, but you suspected Anthony Bridgerton could elevate a bin bag. It was a visual challenge you had adapted to in your job, over time finding it easier and easier to speak to him without choking on your tongue first. His arrogant playfulness had helped with that and the two of you had built a deep mutual trust, a friendship even. You had bonded in the trenches of corporate crises enough to sling endearing insults at each other and always be blatantly honest. Except about one thing. You could obviously never reveal to him how desperately you wanted to jump his bones. How your blood simmered when his voice dropped to a certain pitch. How you broke into gooseflesh whenever he shook your hand and met you with something caring in his deep umber eyes. The light flirtation you both fell into from time to time certainly didn’t help either. And now with him in black tie, you began to wonder if this job was hazardous to your health.

Tonight was the company’s annual charity gala. A star-studded event at one of London’s best hotels where celebrities and socialites donated funds for the hospitals partnered with BHE. Anthony would give the closing speech and as planned, was the last to arrive on the red carpet so that he would get unencumbered press focus. You had spent the entire day on site making sure everything was prepped to perfection and now you stood at the top of the entry stairs with the other staff, ready to welcome the MVP of the evening. Given the high profile of the event, you had dressed for the occasion too. You would be seated at his table and weren’t going to be photographed looking like an intern. You had found a dress you loved, a shimmering number that showed off your best assets, and splurged on a hair and makeup artist. Maybe your position made you more akin to the prince’s valet but if this was how you got into the ball, you were going to make the most of it.

You watched Anthony pausing for photos, realizing this was one of the rare times you could observe him from afar. He moved with such confidence, back straight and head held high. He would run his fingers through his greying temples or brush a thumb over his stubbled chin while flashing that killer smile and your legs wanted to give out. He knew how to work a camera. It was one of the many awful, wonderful things about him. But if the attention helped raise money for charitable causes it was all worth it. You supposed your undergarments could suffer for the greater good. 

As he moved along, you noticed he was licking his lips. A peek of his tongue in the corner of his mouth as he faced your direction. He was probably hot under all the camera flashes. But that small gesture was infecting you with heat too. He really needed to stop or you were liable to tumble down the steps and really make a headline. It took all your strength not to fan yourself with the tablet you were holding until at last he ascended and gave you a dazzling smile, falling into step beside you as you moved indoors. 

You hovered in his orbit as he was greeted by the first throng of attendees at the bar and you called for a flute of champagne. When he was alone at last for a moment, you pulled him into a quiet corner and offered him the drink.

“Thirsty?”

“Sorry?” He moved closer, inclining his head. He was curiously still wearing his sunglasses indoors. You could smell his cologne. Amber and smoke and spice and it made you want to sink your teeth into his neck.

“Are you thirsty?” You said louder, shoving the glass into his hand as he chuckled.

“Why do you ask?” He took a sip.

What a stupid question. Couldn’t you just offer him some refreshment? Didn’t humans need to hydrate? Now you had to answer him.

“I um…” You wavered. “I saw you. You were…licking your lips out there so I just figured…”

His brows show up over his frames and he grinned. “You’re very attentive.”

Something shot down your spine. His voice was getting close to that register. “It’s my job to take care of your needs.” You reminded him, though you laid on a heavy layer of sarcasm.

“And you are so very good at it.” He rumbled, reaching the danger pitch. Oh god, he was going to assault you both visually and aurally at the same time, wasn’t he? He was going to flirt with you while daring to look like that. He was cruel, and he knew exactly what he was doing. 

He confirmed it by stepping even closer, turning so the front of his velvet jacket brushed your bare arm and he leaned down to murmur directly in your ear. “You look incredible by the way.”

You swallowed hard, instructing yourself to inhale and exhale. But that wasn’t really helping because his intoxicating scent was making things worse. You had to keep your head. You had to spar with him or else you were going to melt into the carpet. “So do you.” You pursed your lips and gave him an exaggerated once over as if you were only mildly impressed. “The glasses were a good choice.”

He smiled and you detected something genuine, like he was actually eager for your praise. He tapped the frames lightly. “Useful too. I don’t have to give anyone my undivided attention if I don’t want to. I could be talking to them while scanning the crowd and they would be none the wiser.”

This sounded like the setup for a joke. Something about not listening to you as you conducted him through his schedule for the evening. You were beginning to resent those glasses and you would let him know if he tried to get sassy with you.

“So what are you looking at?” You smirked, waiting for the punchline.

He took another sip of champagne, facing you but now you couldn’t be sure if he wasn’t staring directly over your head. “A beautiful woman who is driving me to distraction.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course. The man lived at the office and didn’t really have time for a social or romantic life. He would have to double up and treat a work event as an opportunity for a hookup. Especially at an event as glamorous as this, with so many swanlike women floating around and everyone dressed in their finest, you understood, despite the envy it flared in you.  

“Ah, I see. Is there someone I should invite over to your table?”

He shook his head, downed the last of the champagne and set it aside with a decisive clink. “Unnecessary. You’re already at my table.”

He said it so matter-of-factly it took your brain several seconds to even comprehend its meaning. You must have been going mad. Your heart started to pound, fueled equally by embarrassed confusion and ridiculous hope. There was no way. Absolutely no way on earth he could have said what you thought he said. And even if he had, he was just toying with you, right? 

“I’m not…” You stuttered, hoping he couldn’t see the blush you felt creeping up your neck. “You weren’t…you weren't looking at me.”

Then your breath caught in your throat as he rounded on you, standing directly before you so your back was pressed against the wall and all you could see was him. He loomed, black velvet and chestnut hair and perfect stubble. That scent was making you feral and now you could feel his hot breath across your skin. You could see yourself in the reflection of his dark lenses, peering up at him like trapped prey. This was how you died. Or lost your job. You were sure of it.

“How would you know?” He smiled wolfishly and tapped the glasses again. “All the better to see you with, my dear.” 

You were hit by lightning. The gooseflesh rippled across your skin. Your underwear soaked. All you could do was stand there and tremble as he ran a finger idly up and down your arm. You were surprised sparks weren’t erupting out of your skin where he touched you. 

“Why do you think I was licking my lips?” He asked in a low voice, finally removing the shades to pierce through you with his dilated, chocolate eyes. “I’m afraid even with the champagne, I’m still thirsty.” Then he did it again, flicking that weapon of mass destruction across his luscious bottom lip and staring at you pointedly.

Your brain functioned enough to realize that he was breathing just as heavy as you were. And that he was opening a door, giving you an option. The option you had been fantasizing about since the day you met him. It seemed too good to be true. You were half convinced you were dreaming in a coma after faceplanting down the steps outside thanks to his appearance. But the prickle of your electrified nerves and the river between your thighs felt real enough to persuade you that you were indeed still in your own body. You were not going to pass this up, whatever it might lead to. Really, you wanted to scream aloud like you had won the lottery.

But instead you whispered, “There’s water in the green room.”

He grinned broadly, creasing that dimple in his left cheek that you wanted to lick right off his face. “Excellent idea. I think we’ll need an emergency private conference to…go over my notes.”

His hand found the small of your back and you prayed that your legs would carry you that far. This was really going to throw off the itinerary but you were good at your job, you could adjust. You smiled back at him. “Whatever you say, sir. I’m here to take care of your needs.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte @faye-tale

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #female reader #modern au #thirst #met gala #jonathan bailey

[perlukafarinn]

Rating Star Trek TOS costumes because why not! (part 3)

The Squire of Gothos (1x17). I wish I had half as much fun doing anything as this dandy did fucking with the crew of the Enterprise. The costume is fun and very cheap-looking but that goes without saying when it comes to TOS. Sure wish they'd given him pants that matched though, 7/10.

Arena (1x18). If you don't like this costume then chances are you take TOS too seriously. Just look at it! This is camp, mama. His stiff plastic face, his lifeless eyes, his gratuitously buff body, that shiny little dress and fingerless leather gloves. Whoever they had wearing that thing in the blaring California sun was braver than any US marine. I love him, 100/10.

Court Martial (1x20) I'm into the 23rd century schoolgirl vibe of it all but this costume looks cheap even by TOS standards and something about the cut is very awkward. 4/10.

Also from Court Martial and man the costuming department was letting these ladies down. Areel is a classy broad but this dress is not it; it just kind of looks like a giant handkerchief. 5/10.

The Return of the Archons (1x21). Silly little outfit brigade reporting for duty! They look like they're in a school play 😭😭 Adorable with just a hint of dashing, 8/10.

A Taste of Armageddon (1x23). Someone needs to tell this man he's wearing a potato sack, though judging by his expression he already knows. 1/10.

These costumes are incredibly goofy but my favorite part is the background actors desperately clinging to their dignity, a battle that was lost the minute they put those hats on. 7/10.

#star trek #star trek tos #rating star trek #you bet your ass i'm doing more of these! #i skipped over khan's episode bc i wasn't comfortable with the brownface of it all #but otherwise i'm trying to cover all the interesting costumes

[redstuffs-ig]

Assorted Krayt's Claw headcanons because I guess that's gonna be my niche now

How they formed:

Krayt's Claw was formed shortly after Boba Fett and Bossk broke out of the Republic Judiciary Detention Center. Feeling bitter about being left behind by Aurra Sing on Florrum and believing in strength in numbers, Boba pitched the idea to Bossk, who agreed to see what he could do with his contacts in the underworld. They first tried to sell the idea to fellow escapee Cad Bane, but he wasn't interested.

The first official member was Latts Razzi, who had fallen under hard times and needed some credits to afford her lavish lifestyle. At first she only considered signing on for a few jobs, but eventually decided to become a full-timer after warming up to the team.

Dengar joined shortly after. Already a successful bounty hunter during the Clone Wars, he saw something in the young Fett that convinced him this enterprise may be worth his while. He and Bossk knew each other from before, and kept a friendly rivalry of sorts going on. Dengar was only a part-timer however, as he was also an aspiring swoop racing champion.

C-21 Highsinger was the last to join the original ensemble. A prototype, one-of-a-kind Hunter-Killer, he went rogue and struck out on his own for motives unknown. One day Boba walked into their base with the towering droid in tow and introduced it as "Highsinger". No one knew how he had convinced that monster that sticking around would be worth its while, but they knew better than to ask questions.

Embo had been in talks to join the team for a while after being approached by Latts, but he only became an official member after Boba Fett vanquished Cad Bane during the last months of the war. He got along surprisingly well, and added a nice bit of street cred to the group.

Oked was only a hired goon brought in for the Quarxite job. He was not mourned nor missed.

Random shit I came up with:

Marrok, Embo's pet anooba, is the unofficial team mascot. Everyone finds themselves doting on the fluffy space dog, and even the impassible Highsinger allows it to rub against his leg. That being said, it has a habit of growling at Dengar whenever he says something stupid, which happens quite frequently.

Bossk's ship, the Hound's Tooth, was their only vehicle for some time. The first few rides were full of nothing but complaining about the smell and unfriendly atmosphere while the lizard silently seethed. It took a lot of convincing for Boba to finally agree to let them use the recently-reclaimed Slave I as their vehicle. Embo never flies with the group, instead using his personal transport, the Guillotine, for every mission. Just about everyone resents him for that fact.

Latts and Dengar are the fashionistas of the group, and tend to suggest outfit changes to the other hunters, a proposition that is rarely accepted. They occasionally rate their co-workers' choice in clothing; Embo has the best look by far, Boba's placing went up by a significant margin after he began sporting his father's Mandalorian armor, and Bossk has been the worst-dressed Trandoshan in Tatooine for a few consecutive years now.

Only Latts can wield her grappling boa scarf effectively, and at many points everyone has tried to employ it in some capacity at least once. None succeeded. How she does it is a mystery.

Dengar once introduced Manaroo, while the two were early into their relationship, to the rest of the team. The fact the poor Aruzan survived three hours of being intimidated by some of the galaxy's meanest-looking bounty hunters confirmed to Dengar that she was the one. They've been married happily since. I don't care what the sequels say.

During a mission to Coruscant, Highsinger inexplicably disappeared with no one knowing where he went. While the rest of the team wanted to leave him behind and get going, Boba demanded they at least try to look for him. He was eventually found at the Droid Spa, enjoying a relaxing oil bath as two beautiful androids scrubbed his joints clean of any grime. To say they were all pissed would be the understatement of the millennium.

After Boba regained his armor and bested Cad Bane in a duel, the following group dinner was filled with everyone taking turns to talk about how much they didn't like the blue cowboy. Whether they were trying to warm up to the new boss or maybe let loose some steam, no one knows.

Krayt's Claw eventually disbanded after Boba came of age and began taking solo jobs, though he remained in contact with most of the team and kept tabs on what they were up to. Nothing was known of Latts' whereabouts after she started her syndicate, however.

#star wars the clone wars #star wars #the clone wars #star wars headcanons #tcw #krayt's claw #boba fett #bossk #latts razzi #dengar #c-21 highsinger #embo #marrok #cad bane #manaroo #my little rag-tag bunch of misfits

[sweetestofchaos]

Parings: Arissa/Yoongi

Genre/Trope: Gang AU, Fluff

Rating: 18+

Summary: Sometimes you just gotta shoot ya shot

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Kissing, Exhibitionism, Oral (m receiving), Breath Play, Cum Swallowing, Pet Names

Sᴇʀɪᴇs Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ | Bʟᴀᴄᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2022

It was a company wide event, all the heads of departments were supposed to participate in the games. Yoongi and Jungkook filled in for Hoseok and Namjoon, since they had to oversee the whole event along with a handful of small-time celebrities to hype up the fun. The events were sports related with a few dance, strategy and food related  games for those who were not athletically inclined. As Namjoon’s personal assistant, Arissa had to participate in at least two events.

Not wanting to steal the spotlight as Hoseok’s wife, Arissa chose to join the bake off and the double dutch competition. Her outfit was simple, a pastel rose colored shirt, light wash jeans that flared at the bottom and her new white Jimmy Choo heels that Jimin gifted her. They had large white bows on them and were pointed, they were adorable. 

Hoseok in similar fashion wore a red button down that had lighter red pinstripes throughout with gray slacks and black plain toe oxford’s. He chose not to wear a tie and left the first two buttons undone to show off the silver chain around his neck. Arissa walked around the rented out community center with Hoseok on her arm. They both smiled and greeted different people, enjoying the stress free environment around them. 

Hoseok looks down at the watch on his wrist while Arissa looks at one of the vendor stalls serving corn dogs. Arissa orders two corn dogs and walks back over to Hoseok’s side, waiting for her order. 

“So, what are Jungkook and Yoongi doing today? Neither one would tell me.” Arissa stares up at Hoseok and he shakes his head. “Is it a huge secret?”

Hoseok laughs and walks up to the vendor, seeing that their order is complete. He holds out a corn dog to Arissa and kisses her forehead before he nuzzles his nose against her temple, “I think they just want to surprise you, Peach.”

“Jungkook isn’t doing the dance off is he?” Arissa frowns and Hoseok laughs. 

“No…but it’s along those lines.”

Arissa groans and keeps walking beside Hoseok as they eat.

“Come on, Yoongi should be getting ready for his event.”

Hoseok leads Arissa over to where a large crowd has formed and she can hear people placing bets on two different teams. People move out of the way when they notice the two of them together and Arissa fights the urge to roll her eyes. She spots Namjoon sitting alone on the side and when Arissa looks around she notices Namjoon is sitting courtside on a basketball court. 

“He plays basketball?” Arissa stares at the side of Hoseok’s face in shock. Yoongi does not look like someone who knows anything about basketball. “I-Is he any good?” Arissa worries about Yoongi embarrassing himself in front of all these people. How would he be able to show his face around the office if he sucks?

“I’ll let you be the judge of that.” 

Hoseok leads Arissa over to Namjoon, and she sits in the middle seat with Hoseok on her other side. Before Arissa can question Namjoon about Yoongi, one of the announcers starts speaking, thanking everyone for coming out and showing support for Kim-Jung Enterprise. The announcer starts rattling off the names of the first team and they all run out waving, wearing blue shorts and white t-shirts with their names on the back.

Arissa doesn’t hear Yoongi’s name for the first team and she watches the entrance where they came out to see if she spots Yoongi. The announcer starts to call out the names of the second team and Yoongi is last. He is dressed like the rest of his team, red ball shorts, a white t-shirt with a pair of red and white air forces on his feet. Arissa notices that his black hair is being held out of his face by a red sweatband and he looks good. Real good.

“Wanna wipe the drool, Peach?” Hoseok teases and Arissa sucks her teeth as heat warms her cheeks. Hoseok laughs and grabs hold of her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Smile for the camera.” Arissa notices a camera being pointed right at them and she slaps a smile onto her face. She forces herself to remember that people are watching, waiting for the famous Jade-Jung power couple to fail.

Arissa watches as Yoongi talks to his teammates and she notices that he’s still wearing his watch. “He’s wearing his watch. He could get hurt.” Arissa mutters and Namjoon agrees.

“Yoongi hyung!” Namjoon calls out and when Yoongi looks over, he waves him over. Yoongi is quick to excuse himself from his team and he jogs over to the trio. 

“What’s up?” Yoongi asks and Arissa holds out her hand making Yoongi stare at her confused.

“Your watch, dude.” Namjoon nods his head to Yoongi’s wrist and Yoongi takes his watch off, handing it over to Arissa.

“Thanks.”Yoongi winks at Arissa and licks his lips. “Wanna make a bet?”

“For?”

“If I get the chance at a free throw, I’ll make it for you.”

Arissa laughs and pats Yoongi’s chest, “Okay, bet.”

“Bet.” Yoongi jogs back to his team just in time before the game starts. Arissa watches Yoongi’s movements like a hawk. She isn’t the biggest basketball enthusiast, but if Yoongi is good, he could play with her brothers the next time they come to South Korea for a visit. The way Yoongi runs up and down the court, the way he controls the ball, Arissa is impressed. Yoongi’s hands are huge, his grip is sure and Arissa can’t help but remember the way his hands feel when he grabs her waist or holds her hands down. So far, Yoongi’s team is in the lead by four points but the other team is catching up quickly. Arissa claps her hands when Yoongi blocks a shot and Hoseok chuckles, clapping his hands as well.

The other team calls a timeout and the two teams split up. Arissa fiddles with Hoseok’s wedding band as he chats with Namjoon. She glances away from her lap, over to where Yoongi’s team is huddled and sure enough Yoongi is staring right at her. He raises an eyebrow and Arissa smiles to which Yoongi sends her a wink. The ref calls for the game to start back up and everyone gets into position before the ref blows his whistle. Everyone runs up and down the court, some baskets are made while others are blocked or missed all together.

One of the men on the blue team elbows Yoongi in the chest as he goes to block a shot and Yoongi falls to the ground with a grunt. Arissa frowns and Hoseok is quick to squeeze her hand, “He’s fine.” Hoseok assures and Arissa nods her head. She knows that it takes a lot more to really hurt Yoongi, but that doesn’t make her worry any less.

The ref calls a foul and Yoongi is granted a free throw. The players all line up and Yoongi stands in the center at the top with the ball in his hands. He dribbles twice and points over to where Arissa, Hoseok and Namjoon are sitting. “For you!” Yoongi calls before he throws the ball and it goes into the net easily. Everyone claps and cheers as the game gets back on track. It’s a no-brainer that Yoongi’s team wins by a four point lead. Everyone floods the court, congratulating the winning team and Yoongi manages to slip through the large mass of bodies.

He makes his way over to his friends and Namjoon pats him on the back while Hoseok ruffles his hair. Arissa offers Yoongi the watch and Yoongi holds out his wrist. Arissa smiles softly and slips the watch onto Yoongi’s wrist before he gives his hand a light squeeze.

“What do I get for making the shot?”

“You were expecting something?” Arissa questions and Yoongi licks his lips as his cat eyes stare at her. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I can think of a few things.”

“Okay, okay…get a room,” Namjoon jokes and Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Don’t let anyone see the two of you, alright?” Hoseok warns and hands Arissa a bag that Namjoon had beside his feet. “Change of clothes.” Hoseok levels Yoongi with a single look and Yoongi grabs Arissa’s hand before they disappear into the crowd. 

Yoongi leads Arissa into a private changing room that has a large shower inside. The moment the door closes, Ariassa is pressed against the door and Yoongi’s mouth is on hers. Yoongi’s tongue licks at the seam of Arissa’s lips and she parts her mouth, allowing Yoongi permission to send shivers down her spine. The kiss is messy, full of tongue and spit. Yoongi pulls away and licks at the spit that slipped from Arissa’s mouth, “I want your throat, sweets.”

“Not gonna shower first?”

Yoongi narrows his eyes and Arissa sighs. She drops the bag onto the floor and lowers herself to her knees. Arissa makes sure that she’s on top of the bag before she reaches up and tugs Yoongi’s ball shorts and boxers down. His dick springs up and slaps against his stomach, veiny and thick, leaking precum.  Yoongi’s hand goes right to Arissa’s curls and she slaps his hands away.

“You fuck up my hair and I’ll bite it off,” Arissa warns and Yoongi huffs a laugh.

“Have I ever fucked your hair, sweets?”

Ariassa opens her mouth to respond, but her words are cut off as Yoongi shoves his dick into her mouth. He groans as his length is completely engulfed in a warm wetness and Arissa gages. Yoongi grips Arissa’s jaw and back of her neck as he starts to fuck her mouth and throat. He bites his lower lip and grunts as Arissa places her hands on his thighs and digs her nails into the skin.

“Rissa! S-Shit…” Yoongi cures and Arissa’s eyes water as she struggles to breath through her nose. Yoongi is rough, so rough as his dick threatens to bruise Arissa’s esophagus and she loves it. Arissa swallows around Yoongi’s dick and his knees buckle. Yoongi slams his hand against the door to catch himself and he glares down at Arissa who is staring up at him with wide watery eyes. “Keep it up and I’ll ruin that pretty shirt of yours, sweets.”

Arissa slides her hands up the length of Yoongi’s thighs and cups his balls, she gives them a squeeze before she starts to fondle them. Yoongi groans and his head drops back as he loses himself in the pleasure. He loves the way Arissa chokes on him and the softness of her lips is beyond relaxing. The white shirt Yoongi wears is drenched in sweat, sticking to his body and he releases his hold on Arissa to run his hand down the length of his torso. His finger splay out against his stomach and as he feels his muscles clench an idea comes to him.

With no warning, Yoongi reaches out and covers Arissa's nose, pinching it between his thumb and index finger. Arissa’s throat tightens around his dick and she makes a high pitched whining sound that is breathy and broken. 

“Fuck, c-close sweets! Just let me have this!” Yoongi picks up his pace as he fucks Arissa’s throat and he watches with parted lips as more tears fall past Arissa’s eyes. Yoongi can feel Arissa’s pulse around his dick and he lets himself go, pressing as far as he can into Arissa’s throat. His pelvis is pressed flush against her lips, his pubic hair tickles her nose and the pleasure washes over his body like a cold wave that pulls him under, deeper and deeper.

Yoongi’s cum is hot as it shoots down Arissa’s throat and she struggles, trying not to choke even more. She feels light headed and she pinches Yoongi’s thigh in warning. Yoongi pulls out and fists his dick, stroking it lazily as he draws out his pleasure. Arissa gulps lungful after lungful of air, her mouth wide open as she catches the cum that is still spurting from Yoongi’s dick. Finally finished, Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, to push it off his forehead and he steps out of his ball shorts and boxers. He squats down in front of Arissa and wipes her tears before he leans in and kisses her forehead.

Yoongi wipes at the cum that didn’t make it into Arissa’s mouth and pushes it into her awaiting mouth that has some of his cum already sitting on her tongue. He taps at Arissa’s lips with his finger and Arissa closes her mouth, “Good girl, sweets. You can swallow now.”

#soc yoongi #blacktober 2022 #the jayde heiress #min yoongi fic #day 10 #air #yoongi smut #poly!bts x oc

[fourseasonsfigs]

White and Gold Han Ye (Handcrafted)

Following up yesterday's Black and Gold Han Ye is today's complementary fig. This is the second of two Han Ye figs designed by my favorite ultra-light clay artist to celebrate the airing of The Legend of Anle.

The inspiration for this fig is this beautiful outfit:

Yes, you've seen a fig based on this costume before in my post Han Ye with Sword. I love this outfit!

Unlike yesterday's much more serious fig, today's noble prince is very faintly smiling. You know I love that!

The translucent effect the fig maker did on his costume is gorgeous. One of my favorite things about this fig, it really replicates the look of the original robes. I don't even want to think about how long it took the artist to do this.

I really appreciate she puts her figs on stands - saves me a whole bunch of heartache trying to figure out how to get larger figs like this to stand up.

Almost all her stands are wood, and she pins the figure's boots to them, so they are quite secure.

Everything about this fig is great - the translucent overlayer on his robes, the little pose with his hand behind his back, all the detail on the front of his robes, and his beautiful mass of long hair.

Ah, and we're coming around to one of my favorite things about this figure - his jade ring!

If you've read my Han Ye posts before, you'll know that I absolutely love all the rings that he wore during many of his scenes. Let me just interject this fig-o-rama with a pic of him wearing this ring:

Beautiful! I was really, really hoping that some enterprising seller would release replicas of any of his rings so I could buy them. I particularly wanted a white jade one he wore - but no luck.

He's just perfect. I love him! All the detail on his robes is so pretty, with the little buttons, and all the gold work on his belt.

The bottoms-up photos are quite challenging with the stand!

I always find these sort of pictures interesting from a construction standpoint. The fact that someone can just make something like this is just incredible to me.

His beautiful guan - I love the jewel she has here on it, it's so pretty. If you zoom in you can see the guan itself is sparkly gold!

A lot of care and artistry goes into these figs. Just lovely.

The promised pair of black and gold Han Ye and white and gold Han Ye. They're just beautiful.

Alright, Han Ye week will continue! Come back tomorrow for the next princely fig. Hmm...how about a spoiler?

Please look forward to it - I already am! I can't wait to type this up.

Material: Ultra-light clay

Fig Count: 480

Scene Count: 31

Rating: Golden and gorgeous

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

#gong jun #han ye #word of honor cast #shl cast #figthusiast #jzeu #the legend of anle #an le zhuan #legend of anle merch

[chiefnooniensingh]

I think I'm gonna love you (for a long, long time)

Pairing: La'an Noonien-Singh/James T. Kirk

Rating: E

Summary: “Buy me a drink next time we’re on Starbase together.” La'an and Jim are finally on Starbase together, able to get that drink that was promised. Will lightning strike twice?

A/N: I had a lot of issues with the smut because a) I'm pretty sure I'm ace, b) haven't written smut in a good long while, c) haven't gotten laid in a good long while. But I'm very pleased with how it came out. Enjoy yourself!

AO3

“Buy me a drink next time we’re on Starbase together.”

It’s not like La’an hadn’t badgered the living daylights out of Sam these last few weeks, for every scrap of information about this timeline’s James Insane Middle Name Kirk. She knew a lot about him now. His inability to accept a lost cause. His penchant to flirt with everything with a heartbeat (she had to admit, that one stung a bit. Which was insane because they weren’t anything to each other in this timeline). His absolute dedication to Starfleet and the resulting skirmishes he’d gotten himself into. If Sam wondered why La’an suddenly showed so much interest in his brother she’d never met, he didn’t ask.

She did prepare for this moment. She really did. But seeing the USS Faragut docked next to the Enterprise still sent a rush of nerves through her. It was ridiculous. Like she was a teenager about to see her crush, not a decorated abuse survivor, she spent the first two days picking up her Padd and putting it back down again, her finger hovering over his name for several long moments.

In the end it was Una who called her out on it, because who else would have the nerve? “Who or what is on your Padd that has you reaching for it every other minute?” she asked, after La’an had indeed reached for her Padd for the 10th time during their meal.

La’an sighed, biting the inside of her cheek in frustration. It was accutely annoying that she couldn’t talk to those closest to her about her experiences in the alternate timeline. She was sure Una would not only understand, but also know what to do about her predicament. “It’s just...” Words were failing her. “I’ve had an experience recently. It…changed me.”

“Is this when you arrived in a strange leather outfit on the Bridge?” Una asked, eyeing her shrewdly. La’an’s breath stilled in her throat, and she gaped at Una. Was she that obvious? “Oh please,” Una said, waving her look away, “I’ve known you longer than most. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. And you’ve been distant and quiet ever since.”

La’an looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting as she tried to find the words. “I…saw things…experienced things…that day. I was told not to tell.”

“Oh god,” Una groaned, sitting back and taking an annoyed sip of her tea. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with time travel, would it?”

La’an looked up sharply. She knew Una was smart, but the way the Commander sometimes seemed to know more than was possible, was unnerving. “How the…”

“I’ve had some run-ins with the future and the past,” Una said, glancing at something over La’an’s shoulder. La’an tried not to look, but was very aware of the loud voices of Captain Pike and Lieutenant Ortegas rising up from the table behind them. “La’an, you don’t have to tell me anything. But whatever you went through, it was important enough to change you. If there’s something you need to do now, you should do it. What is stopping you?”

La’an nodded slowly, her eyes moving away from Una’s face and to her Padd. She knew what was stopping her. James didn’t remember her. For him, nothing ever happened. How would she ever, ever explain her fixation with him? La’an let out a disbelieving breath as she realized the feeling that was holding her back: fear. She was afraid. La’an Noonien-Singh faced off with the Gorn on multiple occassions, but a meeting with a boy made her more afraid to pick up a Padd than a phaser. This was ridiculous. “I’ll explain everything to you later, I promise,” La’an said, suddenly jumping up and grabbing her Padd in one fluid movement.

Una smiled, her eyes twinkling in a way that made La’an believe she had realized what this all was about. Una was way too perceptive for her own good. “I’m looking forward to it. Go on.” She jerked her chin to the exit, and off La’an went, opening a connection to the Starbase network.

“Computer, locate Lieutenant James T. Kirk.”

“Lieutenant James T. Kirk is on Deck 10, subsection 5.”

La’an found the nearest turbolift, got in, and then stared at the controls for a second, gathering some more strength. “Deck 10,” she finally told the lift, hating how much her voice was trembling. La’an wasn’t usually a nervous person. She bullied emotions like that into submission long before they had a chance to ruin her day. But she couldn’t run away from this. She was on her way to meet a man she’d never met, who meant more to her than most people did.

What a mind-job, she thought, and couldn’t help but chuckle as the turboliftdoors opened to Deck 10–

–and she ran right into one very surprised James T. Kirk.

La’an, who’d never been at a loss for words in her career, could only gape at him as he looked at her, and then smiled an easy smile she recognized from his other self. Her stomach did a summer sault without her permission. “La’an Noonien-Singh!” he said, sounding pleased.

“Jam – er, Lt. Kirk!” she managed to stutter out, as she stepped aside to let him into the turbolift with her.

“Deck 2,” Kirk told the turbolift, and they whooshed off. “It’s good to finally meet you in person, Lieutenant. Has my brother been behaving himself?” Another charming smile lit up his face, and just like that, La’an felt herself relax.

“Well, according to him, it’s you who’s the more troublesome Kirk brother,” La’an said, feeling her face split into a teasing grin.

Kirk closed his eyes in mock hurt and laughed. “No fair, he’s had the advantage of several missions with you to make me look bad!”

La’an laughed, too, startling herself a little. “I should be sorry to believe half of his ridiculous stories.”

“Well,” Kirk said, rubbing a hand across his neck, shooting her a bashful look through his eyelashes, “I’m pretty sure at least half of them are true. But at least allow me the opportunity to set the record straight. I might be a troublemaker, but he is no saint. I was just on my way to the bar. Join me, so you can buy me that drink you promised?”

Damn, he was a smooth talker in any timeline. La’an felt her cheeks redden a bit as she remembered their banter over hotdogs. “I distincly remember you arrogantly presuming I’d buy you that drink,” she said, her voice laced with laughter as he faked another hurt look, “but you’ve got me intrigued about Sam. Alright, Lieutenant. I’ll buy you that drink.”

Kirk’s answering smile was enough to brighten up the whole turbolift.

----

“You can’t possibly expect me to believe that Sam Kirk stole your mum’s car? And then drove it of a cliff?!”

Kirk laughed, taking a sip from his brandy, and holding up his hands. “Hey, if you don’t believe me, ask him yourself! The man is a terrible liar, you’ll sniff him right out!”

La’an put down her own drink to protect it from spilling. She couldn’t remember ever having laughed so much in a single night, but every anecdote Kirk told was as hilarious as the last, and it seemed he never grew tired of sharing them and making her laugh. Whenever she did laugh, she noticed his eyes lighting up as he looked at her, as if he was singularly enjoying her joy. It was usually hard to keep her old and new memories separate, but she hadn’t thought about the other timeline’s Kirk for quite a while. This Kirk was very adept at making her forget pretty much everything. “My god, I am going to make his life hell the next time I do a routine inspection. Underneath his bed, you say?”

Kirk nodded with a grin, turning slightly in the booth they were occupying and leaning closer conspiratorily. “He has never changed his hiding spot. My brother, though I love him, of course, is very preditable and very easy to tease.”

“I’m not sure any of these stories should go in his permanent record, but thank you for sharing them either way, Lieutenant.”

Kirk’s grin softened into a smile. “La’an, why don’t you just call me Jim? We’re both off duty here.”

Hearing her name spoken that softly sent a whole new host of feelings coursing through her body, but she clamped them down. “Alright. Jim.” It felt strange – how right that felt. She’d called the other Kirk James. But somehow that didn’t feel right with this Kirk. Jim was much more fititng for the man sitting across from her, telling stories, caring not a lick about who she was or why she’d called him with the strangest and most mundane question ever. “Thank you, Jim. I can’t remember having this much fun in a while.”

Kirk cocked his head, looking at her with narrowed, searching eyes. “Come on, that can’t be true.”

“It’s true,” La’an said, tearing her gaze away from his and staring at the table. “Other people are…usually difficult for me.” Oh God, she thought horrified. She’d had this exact conversation with him in another life. Another time. Another him. “There’s always been this barrier, and it gets…lonely. But you…”

It wasn’t fair. What she was doing to herself, what she was expecting him to say. She wasn’t being fair to either of them, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop the words from pouring out of her. And apparently, he was more like his counterpart than she thought, because he smiled, ducking his head, and said, “Me? I’m…special?”

La’an laughed, her heart in her throat. “Well, no. But yes. A bit of both?” She shook her head to get rid of the memories, then looked up into his eyes. She was shocked by how sincerely he was paying attention to her, singularly focussed on every line. “Anyway. I don’t usually get to have fun like this, even when on shore leave, so thank you.”

Jim raised his glass to her. “Well, it was my absolute pleasure.” She raised her own glass as well and took a sip. Somehow, she’d missed when he moved his arm to rest on the back of the couch they were sharing, his hand now resting inches from her shoulder. She wondered if he did it on purpose, then scolded herself for hoping. Then again, her leg had definitely brushed his on several occassions during the evening. All on accident, of course.

For the first time that evening, she looked up. The bar was a lot emptier than it had been when they arrived, and when she checked the time she was shocked to notice it was well past midnight. They’d been sitting here for the better part of four hours and she hadn’t noticed at all. Though on shore leave, La’an had planned a surprise inspection of the lower decks in the morning, but she could already tell that wasn’t going to happen. Her head was buzzing with the small amount of alcohol she had consumed, and her heart was racing with the proximity to Jim. She’d wondered how much he would be like his alternate self. He was close enough for her feelings to be still there, but far enough that it didn’t hurt to look at him as much as she had expected. He was still looking at her as he was finishing his brandy, and shot her another smile when he did. “We seem to be overstaying our welcome,” he whispered conspiratorily, leaning in closer to her and jerking his head towards the bar. She looked surreptitiously in that direction, and saw the bartender shooting them exasperated looks. “If we order another drink, do you think they’ll try to phaser us?”

La’an turned back to him to answer but was stopped short when she noticed how much closer he was now leaning. His hand was also very lightly touching her arm now. Clearing her throat, ignoring the burning sensation even that lightest touch was causing, she forced a chuckle. “I think we’d better not risk it. I rather like this place and would hate to be banned.”

Jim still hadn’t moved, his face now so close to hers that she could feel his breath. It carried a hint of the brandy he was drinking. “Good point,” he conceded, and then, seemingly with tremendous effort, pulled himself out of the booth. “Allow me to walk you to your quarters?” He extended his hand for her to take.

La’an would usually have denied. She didn’t need an escort, she was perfectly able to take care of herself, thank you very much. But she didn’t want this night to end. Her experiences with the alternate Jim aside, this had truly been a wonderful night, and she wondered how long it would be until she’d experience another. Everything ends, but she could delay their parting a bit longer. So she took his hand and allowed him to pull her out of the booth. She felt the loss when he let go. They walked together, slowly, both clearly unwilling for this night to end. Jim followed La’an’s lead, even when she took the long way ‘round to the Enterprise. He didn’t comment on that fact, merely kept up the steady stream of conversation the entire way to the ship. The ship was empty when they entered, the night shift well under way and everyone else either on Starbase or in their quarters. They fell silent automatically, as if the ship being on night shift somehow meant they had to be quiet.

“La’an, when you said there’s always been a barrier, what did you mean?” Jim asked, startling La’an out of her quiet enjoyment. She looked at him from the corner of her eyes and saw him looking at her intently.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t know?” La’an said, deflecting. She didn’t really want to talk about it, but also didn’t want to stop him from talking.

Jim nodded pensively. “Your name.” La’an nodded. They stepped into the Turbolift and were quiet all the way to her deck. “What makes me different, then?” he asked, when they stepped off the Turbolift on her deck.

More than I can ever tell you, La’an thought, but instead she said, “Since the first second we talked, you’ve never treated me different because of my last name. Almost everybody else starts out distrusting, sometimes even hating. But not you. You didn’t even blink.”

Jim nodded as they slowly made their way to her quarters. “I’ve never been a fan of judging someone because of their family. Genetics mean nothing. We’re all born with the capacity for good and evil. It’s our choices that define us, not our blood.”

La’an chuckled softly. “You’re the second person to say that to me recently.”

“Well, I am very wise,” Jim said, his tone once again teasing, causing La’an to laugh.

“Sure.” The mock hurt look crossed his face again and La’an shook her head with a smile. “Anyway. My last name has always been a…scarlet letter…” What the hell are you doing, she scolded at herself, but the words were already out of her mouth… “…my whole life. It’s nice to have someone treat me like I’m not wearing it.”

He looked at her, confused. Seriously? “Really? Hawthorne? Late 19th century Earth?” She was having an intense amount of deja-vu. She decided to push it. “It’s about a, eh - a woman who’s marked. Like the mark of Cain.” Again he pulled that perfectly innocent confused face. The most frustrating thing was that she still didn’t know if he was joking, because this Jim was not the other one. He might actually not have read it. They came to a halt in front of her door, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve never heard of…?”

Jim laughed, but not at her. Just…at his own stupid joke. “Yes, obviously I’ve heard of Hawthorne and the Old Testament.” He stepped closer to her, invading her personal space, forcing her to tilt her head slightly to maintain eye contact.

And suddenly, La’an knew exactly what was about to happen.

“I’m messing with you,” he said softly.

La’an had had enough. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, but she kept her eyes on him. His pupils were blown wide as he stared at her intensely. “You asshole,” she whispered, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him in. Their lips met, and La’an melted. This kiss was nothing like the other one. In fact. In fact. La’an could barely even remember alternate James right now. This kiss was heated, full of promise and an evening of built up tension, and he was kissing her as enthousiastically as she felt. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as Jim slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened their kiss. She felt him pressed against every single inch of her body, and she thought she might burn up if she didn’t do something, anything, more. She ran a hand through his short hair, finding leverage as she pushed up on her tiptoes to get closer, to feel more of him. She felt more than heard him chuckle, the vibrations going through her like music. When she didn’t think she could stand another second without some air, she broke their kiss, keeping her forehead pressed against his. They were both breathing heavily, and Jim was still holding onto her waist tightly. “Do you want…” La’an said, her breathing embarassingly laboured. “Do you want to come in?” Her hand was already moving towards the lock.

Jim held her in place for a moment, his lips ghosting over hers, enticingly, seductively. “Yes,” he said softly, before kissing her again in a way that sent an electric shock from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. La’an reached blindly towards the lock of her door, had to give it three tries, but then opened the door and they stumbled inside, trying to stay as close together as possible and create enough space to get rid of some clothes at the same time. “La’an…” Jim muttered when she finally got rid of her jacket and she was just wearing her black tanktop. His hands ran up her sides, exploring, soaking her in, causing goose bumps to erupt all over her skin. La’an gasped as he lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist automatically. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he said as he buried his face in her neck, kissing and licking and sucking his way up towards her mouth. La’an scoffed, and Jim pulled his head back to look at her. His gaze was deadly serious. “You don’t believe me?”

“You hardly know me.”

Jim lifted a single shoulder. “Every time I made you laugh, I felt like I got some private view of you that nobody else gets to see. Every time your leg accidentally brushed mine I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. You underestimate the effect you have on me. And how much I want you to be wearing much less clothes than you are right now.”

La’an squealed (thank God Una wasn’t around to hear this) as he moved quickly across her room, deposited her on the couch and starting working on undoing her pants. “Jim…” she whispered, cheeks flushing at how needy she sounded. She reached out, touching his face, and he got the message. He surged up to kiss her again, his mouth hungry but soft, allowing her to set the pace and giving her room to pull back should she want to.

She really, really didn’t want to. With one hand in his hair, the other traveled downwards to his pants. She attempted to undo it, but in the proces brushed right over his crotch, and she felt exactly how much truth was behind his words. He gasped at her touch, pressing his face against her neck with a groan. “La’an, I swear to God…” he said, his voice already broken. She’d barely even touched him yet. A rush of power surged through La’an. She was doing that to serial womanizer Jim Kirk. It was euphoric, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as she let out a giggle.

So many things she would never, ever tell another living soul she was capable off.

Her laughter died out quickly, because he’d managed to undo her pants and hadn’t waited to pull it down before moving his hand to where she needed him most, thrusting first one, then soon after two fingers inside her. His thumb traced lightly but surely over her clit. With a whine, La’an arched her back at his touch. Jim kissed his way down her body, smiling against her belly at the noises he was drawing out of her with every move of his hand.

It didn’t take long. Her body had been on edge the entire night (the accidental touches had had their effect on her as well), and Jim worked her expertly, touching her exactly how she needed it. Needed him. She fell apart with his name on her lips, a sound which he immediately swallowed with a kiss. “You’re even more beautiful when you come undone beneath me,” he whispered hoarsely. La’an laughed as her heartrate slowly returned to normal and her breathing slowed down. Jim looked down at her with a big smile, removing his hand from between her legs (she didn’t whine at the loss, she did not).

“You’re entirely too good at that,” she said, when she finally caught her breath. Jim leant down, capturing her mouth in a soft kiss. It sent a tingle straight to her belly and her breath shuddered as she kissed him back languidly. “Jim…”

“I hope you’ll let me stay a little longer, because I – ” Jim said, moving to kiss her neck, “– am – ” kiss “– not – ” kiss “– done with you.” La’an couldn’t believe this was happening; not by any stretch of the imagination did she think she would’ve ended up with Jim Kirk in her quarters when she went to find him earlier today.

But she’d spent enough time underneath him for now. Grinning mischievously, she put her hands on his shoulders and flipped him over. He landed with an oof against the back of the couch. She climbed on his lap, putting her legs on either side of his thighs. His eyes were wide as he looked up at her, his hands landing on the back of her legs. “I hope you’ll stay a while,” La’an said, winding her hands in his hair and tilting his head back, “because I’m not done with you, either.” Then she slammed her mouth against his. His fingers dug into the flesh of her legs in response. She felt him groan as she nipped at his bottom lip, and another rush of power went through her.

“Fuck, La’an, you’re going to be the end of me,” he rasped when they broke apart. His hands slid a bit higher, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer still. “You know, it’s strange…” he continued, as he kept staring up into her eyes, hardly blinking. “…and this is going to sound like a line…but I have this really strange feeling that I know you – have known you for longer than tonight.”

La’an felt her heart begin to race. “Well, maybe we went to the Academy together.” It sounded flimsy, even to her. But there was no earthly – timely? – way that he had any memories of a timeline that never existed.

Jim shook his head, then raised his hand to cup her cheek. “I would definitely have remembered you. You are…mesmerizing.”

La’an blushed, but managed a laugh. “Okay, that was definitely a line.”

Then Jim smirked, and the weird deja-vu moment was over. “Alright, maybe,” he teased, pulling her down with a hand in her neck, “But I do mean it.” He kissed her again, sloppy and hungry, which she felt to the tips of her toes. She moaned into his mouth, causing his hips to jerk in response. “And I love the sounds you make. Can I please take you to bed now?”

La’an pushed herself up from his lap with more reluctance than she’d ever admit, and stood over him with her hands on her hips. “These are my quarters, Lieutenant Kirk. I believe I shall take you to bed.” Then she divested herself from her pants and tank top, and turned her back to him, walking towards her bed with an extra sway in her hips.

“Fuck,” she heard him mutter, before he scrambled to his feet and followed her.

Later La’an would blush and wonder how she’d ever gotten this bold. But she’d been driven out of her mind with want, and thoughts had a way of not taking root in her head. The only thing going through her head was how much she wanted him, and how much he seemed to want her. She turned to face him again, finding him closer than expected, which caused her breath to catch. Jim put his hands on her hips, pressed his forehead against hers, and everything seemed to slow down for a moment. They swayed like that together, breathing each other in, and La’an was hit again with that same feeling of rightness, of comfort, that she’d felt with his other self. She wondered if that meant anything. She also couldn’t get herself to unpack that right now. “Jim?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re wearing far too many clothes.”

Jim smirked. “Yes, ma’am.” Without any more protest, he undid his shirt and tossed it over his shoulder. Then he got rid of his pants, leaving only his boxers to give her imagination something to do.

La’an stared, breathless. She remembered seeing him in the dressing room after he took off the sweater, and feeling flustered and a little bit attracted to him. That same feeling overwhelmed her now. She remembered wanting to run her hands down the planes of his chest. And then she realized that she actually could now. He was breathing hard and she felt his breath hitch when she put her hands on his chest. As frantic as the first couple of minutes of this night had been, now they’d slowed it down. La’an’s senses were heightened more than usual, and she was extremely aware of every move Jim’s body made. Jim lifted his hand to her shoulder and slowly slipped his fingers underneath the strap of her bra, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. She gazed back, sure and unafraid, and allowed him to inch the strap down her arm. He leaned down and started trailing kisses over her shoulder in the wake of her bra strap, causing La’an’s breath to hitch. He then reached around and undid her bra with deft fingers. Her breath caught again as she allowed her bra to drop. Jim let his eyes roam across her, and La’an fought her instinct to cover herself up.

But he smiled, letting his large hands roam across the skin of her back. “You’re beautiful,” Jim whispered, before running a single finger across her nipple. La’an gasped, trembling. “You’re so reactive.” He sounded absolutely delighted by that fact. He was gazing down at her with a sly smirk.

La’an grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around and pushed him down onto the bed. “My turn,” she said, moving to straddle his hips. Jim immediately let his hands wander up her legs and to her hips, his own hips jerking involuntarily.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly. The sound went straight through her to a place low in her stomach, and La’an didn’t resist the urge to lean over him and kiss him senseless. When she rolled her hips, he groaned against her mouth, tightening his grip on her hips. “La’an…” The way he said her name drove her out of her mind. She had to do something right now, or she might just burst out of her skin. She climbed off him for a moment, and enjoyed the whine he let out at the loss of contact, but used the wider range of motion to rid herself of her underwear, and to start to work on his. He got the message quickly, and moved to help her. Then he immediately pulled her back on top of her, clearly as eager as she was to have as little space between them as possible.

He pulled her down to him for a searing kiss. Their bodies were practically flush together, naked skin to naked skin, but it wasn’t nearly enough. After months of wanting, La’an was aching for him in ways she hadn’t experienced in…well, maybe ever. He seemed to be feeling the same, because he put his hands on her hips as he broke the kiss, looking up at her, eyes blazing. “La’an, I need you,” he whispered, pulling her down against him by her hips, causing them both to groan at the contact.

“Jim…” she gasped, her hands flying to his hair. She lifted her hips, letting the tip of him slide through her folds. “God…”

Jim’s fingers tightened on her hips. “You’re so wet,” he gasped out. La’an leaned down to kiss him, and as she did so, she slowly lowered herself down on him. “Holy mother of God…” he groaned, his grip on her hips now bruising. La’an’s hands dug into the sheets underneath them in an effort to keep any semblance of control about her, but it was a losing battle. Even more so when he bucked his hips and slowly started moving.

I can’t believe this is actually happening, La’an thought, waves of pleasure washing over her as she pressed her face into his neck, moaning softly. She moved her hips slowly, in time with his thrusts, and it was almost torture. La’an couldn’t figure out if she needed things to speed up or if this slow, gentle pace was exactly what she needed. Maybe both could be true. Her brain was hardly supplying any helpful input, it was almost exclusively sending out static noise of pure pleasure. She was making a whole slew of noises which she could only sort of identity; she was pretty sure his name tumbled from her lips most frequently. He was muttering, too, sweet nothings and something dirtier in her ear as he kept thrusting, his hands coming up to bracket her face and kiss her again  “Jim…” she moaned, as he hit a particular spot inside of her, which caused her to throw her head back in ecstasy. “Jim, please…more…”

“More?” Jim said, hoarsely, sounding wrecked and smug at the same time. “Yes, ma’am, more coming right up.” In one smooth, fluid motion, he grabbed her around the waist and spun them around so that he was now hovering over her. They stared at each other for a moment, breaths laboured, and then Jim kissed her, running his hands up the sides of her body all the way to her hands, which he then pinned to the mattress above her head. La’an was never going to admit to the sound that escaped her mouth at that.

Their pace picked up after that. Their fingers entwined, and a broken moan came from Jim as he buried his face in her neck. They held onto each other as if letting go would mean being set adrift in the cold emptiness of space, and the only thing keeping them warm was the feel of each other’s bodies moving together, in sync, frantic, sloppy. La’an felt a pressure built somewhere behind her navel, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, and she whined, not able to put words to what she wanted. It was like Jim read her mind though. He let one of her hands go and slipped his now free hand between their bodies to again find her clit. His fingers moved expertly, and this was what La’an was missing. The only sounds coming out of her mouth now were disjointed words, moans and sometimes his name. She had no control over what her brain and her body were doing, and it was wonderful. For the first time in a long, long time, her overactive brain was minding its own business, allowing her to enjoy everything happening to her body right now. “Come on, La’an…” Jim whispered in her ear, at which the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. “Come with me…”

And that was it.

With a sob, La’an crashed over some invisible precipice, wrapping her arms around Jim’s neck to anchor herself. Her own orgasm seemed to trigger his; he followed not two seconds after, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing her cries.

Slowly, very slowly, La’an’s consciousness returned to her, finding Jim with his face pressed against her chest, still gasping, and yet also managing to press kisses to her damp skin in between. La’an couldn’t for the life of her remember the last time she had been so satisfied; her entire body was buzzing with electricity, overly sensitive to even the lightest touch in the best way.

Jim was the first one to find his voice. Sort of. “That…that was…” He was still breathing hard, and he seemed to have difficulty focussing. He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes shining bright, his brows slightly furrowed as if confused. “Jesus,” he breathed, before surging up to kiss her again. La’an, sated and content, felt a slight tug in her stomach as he did; his kisses were phenomenal.

La’an was the first to find her voice and to be able to form actual sentences. “So, that happened,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. Jim nodded, laughing softly, as he nuzzled her cheek. He seemed uneager to move off of her, but she was also feeling the height and weight difference he had on her. She pushed his shoulder lightly, and, getting the hint, he rolled off of her. She followed him immediately however, giving in to the desire to stay close to him. She rested her head on his chest as his arm came around her, pulling her close. He burried his nose in her hair, which sent a whole new flock of butterflies through La’an’s belly.

They were silent for a long time, both of them coming down from their high, both of them basking in the pleasure of what had just tranpsired. It was Jim who broke the silence first. “Are you alright?” he asked.

La’an frowned, looking up at him, finding him looking slightly worried. “What do you mean?” She raised her hand to run a finger down the side of his face, a movement which had Jim leaning into the touch.

“Just that I can…forget myself, sometimes.” Jim closed his eyes for a moment before looking straight at her. “I’m sure Sam has told you that my feelings can get the better of me. Make me…impulsive sometimes. Unthinking.” He slipped his hand in her neck, his thumb stroking the side of his face. “I hope I didn’t…”

“Hurt me?” La’an supplied. She smiled when he nodded, turning her head to kiss the palm of his hand. “Jim…what about me says ‘I will let someone hurt me without repercussions’?”

Jim stared at her for a second, stunned, but then burst into laughter. “That’s a valid point, Lieutenant La’an Noonien-Singh.”

La’an pushed herself up on one arm so she could look down at him. “So, Lieutenant James Tiberius Kirk, why don’t you just shut up and kiss me before you say something else ridiculous?”

Jim moved his hand into her hair and tightened his grip, making La’an gasp. The fire that had been doused for a few minutes raged again in her stomach, and La’an’s lips parted. Jim’s eyes flicked down, his gaze darkening. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice low, and then he pulled her down hard, crushing his mouth to hers. La’an swung her leg over his torso and got settled. “Comfortable?” he asked with a grin when they broke apart for a few moments.

La’an put her hands on his chest to keep him down against the mattrass, teasing him a little. “Very.” She moved her hands up to his hair, winding her hands in the soft strands, and then tightening her grip. He moaned softly, which delighted La’an to no end. “Mmm, ready for round two, Lieutenant Kirk?”

Jim smiled up at her, his hands moving up to her bare breasts. La’an gasped, arching into his touch. “Very much so, Lieutenant Noonien-Singh.”

Laughing, La’an leaned back down to kiss him.

Round two.

#star trek snw #strange new worlds #snw fanfic #snw ff #ka'an fanfic #ka'an #ka'an ff #lilysfics #lenievi #i have struggled with the smut until 4am yesterday #and all day today

[mrepstein]

The Sunday Mail (Glasgow) - December 20, 1964

WHEN A BEATLE KIDDED THE ‘NEMPEROR’

RAY JONES, former member of The Dakotas, continues ‘My Wild Life With The Pop Groups’

On his way up, somebody christened Brian Epstein the ‘Nemperor,’ after his music firm, NEMS Enterprises. It stuck.

And with his kingly success came kingly trappings - a chauffeured Rolls, a Maserati, a big Belgravia apartment, a listing as one of the ‘Ten Best Dressed Men,’ etc.

Nobody on the inside now calls Epstein’s business NEMS. It’s ‘The Organisation’ - a thing bigger than all of us.

Brian sits at the centre of it all - rich and powerful.

And though his success becomes greater he is still much the same young man whom we first knew in Liverpool, and labelled ‘Mister Elegance.’

Brian hates reprimanding people - and as far as his top earners, the Beatles, go I think he gave up trying long ago!

Organisation

Even when, last July 20, he had me in his office near the London Palladium and told me I had to go I could see he was actually embarrassed by the whole bit.

I almost felt sorry for him - though, as a young married man being sacked from a £120 a week job, I suppose I should have felt sorry for myself.

The Beatles were the only people in the organisation who dared call him ‘Eppie,’ probably because he didn’t like it.

He was Brian or Mr. Epstein to everybody else.

I KNOW THEY WERE FOND OF HIM, AND RESPECTED HIM, BUT THEY OFTEN PULLED HIS LEG.

John Lennon, whom I think of as the most original personality in the Beatles, would say to him: ‘You’re only our agent’ - in that deadpan way of his.

He could always depend on this riling Brian. ‘I am not your agent,’ he would say emphatically, ‘I am your personal representative’ - which he really was.

‘Oh, ah!’ John would say.

John is a real character - with no flies on him. I always had the feeling that he was a good friend to have, but not a man to cross.

He can be scathing to people, but when he takes the mickey its usually good-humoured.

And shrewd! This year, trying to get rid of his old car, John got Brian to contact their New York agent, to see if they’d get more money for the car there - as a car ridden by a Beatle!

JOHN’S ALWAYS COMING UP WITH THE GIMMICKS.

Conscious

Having a drink with him one day I noticed his cuff-link had the name ‘Ron’ on it in big letters.

‘Who’s Ron?’ I asked.

‘Cousin of Jim,’ said John smartly - and flashed the other cuff-link, which did indeed bear the name ‘Jim.’

It was John who came up with the original idea for the Beatles’ Jacket, which swept the country. He had seen something similar in Paris some time before, and liked the idea.

But Epstein and Paul McCartney are the really clothes-conscious members of the outfit.

I always found Paul a nice guy - and the girls’ favourite, of course!

AND OF THE FOUR, THE ONE MOST CONSCIOUS OF THE GROUP’S POPULARITY AND THE NEED TO PROTECT IT.

I was in their dressing-room one day when an argument flared up between John and Paul.

Contrast

They are the driving force of the group and it’s not unnatural - as I well know! for tensions to build up in a group, even the Beatles.

John was picking up steam when he suddenly stopped, and I noticed that Paul was jabbing a finger in my direction and looking at John significantly.

The row ended right there.

Even though I was a fellow NEMS artist, they were taking no chances - following to the letter a Brian Epstein instruction that his groups should never be seen arguing publicly.

I don’t think George Harrison and Ringo Starr ever get much involved in the temperamental clashes of John and Paul.

By show business standards George is a reserved sort of fellow - though in ordinary life I guess he’d be rated a wild-oh!

Somebody once accused George of being ‘anonymous,’ and he retorted: ‘So long as I’m giving my best and getting an equal share of the take I couldn’t care less.’

That’s his attitude, and there’s a lot to be said for it.

Ringo, by contrast, is too busy enjoying the life he lives to have time for rows!

Where his energy comes from, nobody knows - but he loves dancing and being out till all hours. I think he enjoys being a Beatle more than the other three put together!

I suppose when I first heard the Beatles I was about as wrong in my judgement of them as Brian Epstein was right.

Imitation

The Dakotas, at that time, had a polished sound along the same lines as the Shadows, whom we greatly admired.

We thought ourselves the most professional group around in the North country and scoffed when people told us: ‘Wait till you hear the Beatles…’

The Beatles were in Hamburg when we heard that, but the week they came home we had the chance of working with them in the Cavern in Liverpool.

Capacity of that famous cellar was around five hundred, but we quickly found there must have been twice that number when the Beatles were appearing.

THEY MADE THAT STAGE IMMORTAL, IN FACT, IT WAS SOON TO BE CHOPPED UP AND SOLD AT FIVE-BOB-A-CHUNK AS SOUVENIRS!

I don’t know what I expected from them - just another imitation of Cliff Richard and the Shadows, I suppose, because they were all the rage at the time.

When I heard them, I thought there were out of this world - maybe too much out of this world.

No group, not even the Shadows made the same initial impression on me.

I remember thinking: ‘Here’s something completely new and fresh, it’ll be great if they can get it off the ground.’

But I didn’t think their sound was really commercial! I thought they were more of a musicians’ group FOR musicians.

Mind you, they had a rougher, original style then - like all the original Liverpool groups.

They played as they wanted, and sang a much wider range of material - including numbers which Manfred Mann and Freddie and the Dreamers later made big hits.

Resistance

Soon after, the Beatles played Manchester’s ‘Oasis’ beat club, and my judgment seemed to be right.

THEY WERE LAUGHED AT. ACCORDING TO A FRIEND OF MINE WHO RAN THE PLACE, THE EVENING WAS A NEAR-DISASTER.

People forget that the Beatles had to overcome a lot of sales-resistance before they were a success.

Their first big national disc hit, ‘Love Me Do,’ only really made it because of the fantastic support given by their Liverpool fans.

In a few months, they were to come back to that same ‘Oasis,’ and take the place by storm.

#Brian Epstein #The Beatles #Ray Jones #1964 #60s #newspaper #Sunday Mail

[valentinebullock72]

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[ao3feed-spirk]

Captain Santa Baby

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51059269 by Bibarian Would the Enterprise crew dress their captain in a slutty outfit if given the chance? Words: 289, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 17 of Spirktober Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: James T. Kirk, Spock (Star Trek) Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock Additional Tags: Spirktober 2023, Possessive Spock (Star Trek), Jim is a Little Shit, Christmas, Slutty outfit read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51059269

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #spock/kirk #kirk/spock #spirk #spockxkirk #kirkxspock

[meikuree]

a soul to rely on

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jayce/Viktor (League of Legends) Additional Tags: Mid-Canon, Relationship Study, Developing Relationship, Song: Alone Pt. II (Alan Walker) 

read on ao3

In the after-hours of their laboratory meetings, Viktor tinkers with their Hextech tools, and Jayce watches him, mesmerised.

  In the after-hours of their laboratory meetings, Viktor tinkers with their Hextech tools, and Jayce watches him, mesmerised.

 His hands work at the hinges of a contraption intended to channel, or direct the volatile frenzy of their hex crystals more smoothly—a shift in the balance of gravitation or energy flow from the rune sequences—and it is as though the room has held itself still, drawing the curtains of all noise up to usher in the focused arrays of his mindwork, his gadgetry. Since Councillor Medarda began bankrolling their enterprise, there’s been more space for playful testing in the safe hemisphere of nightfall, but Viktor still surpasses the upper bounds of overtime hours for inventors with regularity.

It strikes Jayce, not for the first time, how tireless he is.

 All scientists need a degree of dedication, it’s true, but Viktor’s lies on another plane entirely; his unjudgemental curiosity and creativity like a coursing engine embedded within his own self, intertwined with his blood and body like helix strands. Taken into the atoms of his breathing, it practically sets his whole self aglow. To Jayce, it’s an animate spirit, something Viktor just does instead of needing to strive for it. Nearly mystical. His partner lives and breathes discovery. 

 It’s only been a few months since they began collaborating as partners, but Jayce counts himself lucky, to be able to work so closely with him. See the quiet sides to Viktor, the ones cloistered away and illuminated in the blue-lightning dark of their private experimental paradise, stolen from under Heimerdinger’s nose. The sides that nobody else does. His focus is unwavering, admirable.

 Jayce doesn’t always meet eye-to-eye with him. Viktor has an unflinching armour of pragmatism, an ability to keep a level head where Jayce would fall to the ground in despair and cradle his blueprints to his chest, fretting over weeks of wasted work. Jayce still remembers their first meeting at the rooftops, debris and rubble surrounding them. But Viktor had given his sincere yet objective offer of generosity. A hand extended, promising to shoulder the burden of unveiling magic’s potential together. The leap of faith Viktor had deigned to make towards him, when nobody else would. They have the sort of camaraderie found only among intellectual equals. Priceless beyond measure.

 Now, at this hour, Viktor is peering at the parts and components strewn on his table with an analytical gaze, scientifically serious. But not so serious, not yet, Jayce knows, that he’ll refuse a drink. A short—shot—break. He chuckles privately at his own joke. He’s tired, but being in Viktor’s presence lifts his spirits somehow.

 “Why don’t you join me?” Jayce says from the desk opposite Viktor’s, and preemptively pours out some wine from a bottle—gifted to him by Mrs Kiramman—into two small cups. Heimerdinger’s laboratory is outfitted with luxury, and they’re finely made, with gold leaf ringing the rims. It’s just what he and Viktor deserve. “Let’s have a sip of wine. We’ve been working hard. Alcohol helps your mind, or so I’ve been promised.”

On cue, he lifts his cup in invitation, smiling with a bright glint of teeth. Good-naturedly conspiratorial.

 “That information of yours must have come from dubious sources,” comes Viktor’s quip, but he doesn’t say no, and Jayce catches sight of the moment he unspools himself from a microscope, the slide upon which he was testing some wires. Slowly rises and stretches up to his full height, fetching his cane.

He walks over, and sits next to Jayce at the recreation-designated desk, accepting his cup. There’s the faintest hint of a smile on his catlike face, one he doesn’t seem to be trying too hard to disguise, beneath his unflappable calm.  

     When you want to change the world, don’t ask for permission, Viktor had said. What a revelation Jayce had found it to be, at the time. Now Jayce sidles closer to him, in unspoken assent, a dawning closeness like the natural force of magnetism, with no need for permission. The universal application of Viktor’s advice to him, like scientific law.

 He touches his hand to Viktor’s. Mostly to look at the scabs and calluses gathered on Viktor’s palms from the fruitful task of working with devices and machinery, Jayce tells himself, but also because his reassuring warmth feels good. It’s a reminder that underneath all their efforts to harness Hextech, there is a real beating heart. That of their belief in each other.

 He’d been at his lowest point when Viktor found him. But now, Jayce recognizes this: that all you need is a pair of eyes who see you for what you are—the promise behind your far-flung ideals—to make all your sacrifices and pain worth it.

 He clinks his cup with Viktor’s now, in cheers. Delights in Viktor’s small smile, the partway joy of savouring the drink lighting up his face. He’s not alone in his mission. Not as long as Viktor is by his side.

#science companionship romance you know the drill #arcane #jayvik #jayce #viktor #my fic #arcane fic

[gayfour]

I posted 122 times in 2022

That's 122 more posts than 2021!

40 posts created (33%)

82 posts reblogged (67%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@airlocksandaviaries

@gayfour

@crystal-mouse

@tanyayoung-322

@universalcaffination

I tagged 92 of my posts in 2022

Only 25% of my posts had no tags

#star trek - 26 posts

#star trek the next generation - 21 posts

#star trek data - 18 posts

#star trek art - 16 posts

#my art - 15 posts

#data tng - 15 posts

#data star trek - 11 posts

#star trek the original series - 6 posts

#tos - 5 posts

#data's outfits rated - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#also im accepting feedback good or bad on this because i genuinely dont know how good or bad it is and i cant improve without external inpu

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

It's so funny to me that there's a TOS episode called "The Enterprise Incident". Like, there's an incident every episode, and they all involve the Enterprise. It doesn't tell you anything about what you're about to watch. It could describe any episode. Of multiple series.

201 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

#4

Important reminder that he

He <3

253 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#3

395 notes - Posted December 5, 2022

#2

Transwarp transmit tranquillise

410 notes - Posted December 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Spock! I absolutely love him in this outfit!

I spent literal hours trying to do the stripes on his jacket but I just couldn't get them right so he's wearing a plain jacket instead. I also almost posted this before I'd drawn his hat.

544 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i woke up to a hundred notifications about brent spiner in human form today #he wont leave me alone

[eleanor-bradstreet]

A Special Day

Anthony Bridgerton and family Modern AU Rated: G, pure fluff Ficlet <1k words

Summary: Anthony's choice of a lavender shirt causes a stir.

Author's Note: We love this outfit. C'mon, how can you not love this outfit?!? Sometimes Jonny Bailey dresses so well, I have to write a fic about it. This is one of those 💜

“Oh dearest, there you are. Thank goodness you came down. Everyone is waiting outside.” Violet flitted around the foyer, moving to greet her son at the foot of the curving staircase. 

“Yes, I am aware,” Anthony nodded. “Apologies for the delay.”

They were surrounded by Bridgertons and the low buzz of everyone speaking at once. Today was important. The annual meeting for Bridgerton House Enterprises hosted at Aubrey Hall. A spring tradition where the family mingled with hundreds of their employees in the flowering gardens of the estate and where Anthony delivered a keynote speech. This year press were in attendance as well, since he would be announcing a global spread into five new international subsidiaries. The day had been planned in meticulous detail. The Bridgertons were to present a united family front as the face of the company. His wife, children and mother would be at his side, as would all of his siblings who had cared to attend.

“My, you look quite smart.” Violet surveyed him top to bottom. He had chosen a neutral linen suit over a turtleneck, tailored to perfection and befitting the garden party atmosphere. But he could hear the passive concern in his mother’s tone.

“What is it?”

“Your shirt.” She leaned in closer. “The lavender really suits you dear, but the dress code… We agreed we would all be in the family color.” She gestured back toward the clump of his relations behind her, outfitted in an array of blue. Benedict in a dark blue linen suit much like his own. Colin in something powder blue and a bit too haute couture but passable. Daphne and Simon were present and his tie matched the cornflower blue shade of her dress. Kate was affixing navy bow ties to their two sons and was herself wrapped in a blue sari. His mother wore a white dress adorned with a print of blue flowers. He would stick out like a sore thumb.

“I know, Mother, but…”

“Anthony.” His wife had spotted him and marched over to join them, her tone much less forgiving. “What are you wearing? Purple? Really? Why did you change? We had your outfit laid out for you this morning!”

He knew he had to tread carefully when Kathani looked at him that way. “My love, I know. There was a last minute wardrobe adjustment.”

“Why?” She glowered. “What did you do?”

As he gawped, somewhat terrified, a third onlooker joined the crowd. 

“Well don’t you look lovely!” Benedict beamed at him, reaching out to smooth his lapels. “Uncharacteristic of you to break the rules brother, but it’s about time you tried it! That color is doing wonders for you. The combination shouldn’t work, but it does.” He plucked at the fabric of the turtleneck and Anthony swatted his hand away. 

“Thank you,” he growled. “I didn’t know this would be the cause of so much commentary. It’s only a bloody shirt and it’s what I am wearing for the day.”

“Oh but I’m sure we can find you a blue shirt,” Violet fretted.

“Anthony, what is the meaning of this?” Kate hissed.

An assistant called over the heads of his bustling family. “Two minutes, Lord Bridgerton! You’re needed outside.”

“Papa!” A small voice called from the top of the stairs. Everyone quieted and turned to see Charlotte, Anthony’s youngest, perched primly by the bannister. She too had foregone the blue outfit her mother had provided that morning and was instead wearing her favorite princess dress up costume; a polyester explosion of shimmering purple fabrics, topped off with a garish plastic tiara. 

A smile broke wide across Anthony’s face and he jogged back up the steps to take her tiny hand and help her down. At four years old and with one hand needed to gather her skirts, her father’s assistance was required to navigate the tall stairs. They slowly descended back to the family, then Anthony straightened his jacket and looked around at them all with a vindicated smirk.

He could see the exasperation in Kate’s eyes as she bent to their daughter. “Charunya, why did you not put on the blue dress I picked for you?”

The girl jutted her chin into the air, a perfect mirror of her mother’s obstinance. “Because Papa said today was special and so I wanted to wear my special dress. It’s my favorite color.”

Kate shot a glance up at her husband who could only shrug in mock defeat. They both knew once their daughter set her mind on something, woe betide any who tried to divert her from it. It was a behavior Anthony had grown quite familiar with during the course of his marriage. With a tight timeline for the day, he had chosen the path of least resistance and let Charlotte dress herself. 

“And did your Papa say he would wear purple with you?” Kate asked.

“Yes,” the little girl nodded. “So I would not be alone.”

Kate looked back at her husband with love in her eyes. Violet brought a hand to her mouth and Benedict swaggered away with a grin. Anthony reached down and took Charlotte’s hand again.

“Are you ready for our special day, my princess?”

“Yes, Papa,” she smiled. Then together they walked across the foyer and outside into the waiting crowds, leading a parade of blue-bedecked Bridgertons behind them.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte @sorryallonsy @queenofmean14

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton family #modern au #jonathan bailey #fluff

[starryeyes2000]

That Night In The Cave: Chapter 33

Read on AO3 or FFN

Rating: Teen

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, First Love, Romance

Pairings: Pike & Tilly; Una x OMC; Saru x OFC

Word Count: 1.7k

Chapter Summary: Hiten presents his bill. Tilly and company discuss Pike.

Excerpt: “So your little toadstool engine broke down without me here to tend to it,” Reno baited Stamets while visiting him in Sickbay the next day. “Not surprising.”

“The mushroom motor is fine; however, its navigator is grounded for another week,” Dr. Pollard interjected as she checked the monitors above Stamets. “If you can manage to behave, you are released to quarters and light activity. In no universe or network, mycelial or otherwise, do these instructions permit a visit to engineering, the spore farm, nor work of any shape or kind. Don’t make me outfit you with a remote monitor,” she issued a final warming with a finger wag before leaving.

“This gives me time to fix the ship up before you break it again,” Reno observed.

“Perhaps it is of interest, and I remind you, you are present here today because I jumped this ship despite the peril to my well-being,” Stamets retorted with a snort.

Reno sat back in her seat and cocked her head to one side. “Hmmm, yes, well done you. I must admit that was appreciated. Yet …”

Continue Reading on AO3 or FFN

Story Masterlist | OC Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Story Summary:

Discovery’s crew is curious about Christopher Pike's background, especially his early missions shrouded in secrecy and his atypical medical skills. After all why would a starship captain be honored with the prestigious Carrington Award bestowed by the Federation Council for a lifetime’s excellence in medicine?

Tilly has a serious and secret (so she believes) crush on Discovery’s temporary commander, Christopher Pike. Saru’s Vahar'ai has triggered his species version of puberty with Pike serving as a stand-in father figure. Pike has a second and secret mission on Discovery in addition to sorting out the mystery of the seven signals. Restless while Enterprise is docked for repairs, Una takes a vacation.

This is hurt/comfort story of dangers, heroics, rescues, awkward situations, getting to know your crewmates, friendship, dating, romance, and the trajectory of first love for a young girl as she finds her place in her chosen profession. As well as the stranded in a cave during a storm trope. Pike whump. And a shirtless Pike stripped to his underwear.

Characters: Pike, Tilly, Saru, Michael, Reno, Detmer, Pollard, Stamets, Na’an, and the rest of the Discovery crew, Una Chin-Riley, and original supporting characters.

Taglist: @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @ocappreciationtag @themaradaniels

#Christopher Pike #Captain Pike #una chin riley #Star Trek: Discovery #Star Trek: Strange New Worlds #star trek fanfiction #star trek fanfic #fanfic #ocfanfic #ocfanfiction #Star Trek Discovery #Star Trek Strange New Worlds #anson mount #strange new worlds #star trek: snw #star trek snw #sylvia tilly #michael burnham #saru #saru x ofc #una chin riley x omc

[thewanderingdelusion]

Fictober Day 3

Prompt #3: That was not my intention

Title: Simple Negotiations

Rating: T

Warnings: N/A

Irene had never seen a man wear his idiocy as proudly as Diam Burride. He surrounded himself in opulence that was meant to show off his wealth, but only served to reveal him for the tasteless moron he truly was. The office Irene was currently sitting in was filled with so many examples, it almost made her head hurt.

The chair she was sitting in was padded in black leather, making it sticky and uncomfortable in the oppressive desert heat. Shelves lined with expensive books also held jewels and artifacts. Several of which Irene was certain were fake, but were displayed so proudly, she doubted Diam was aware of that. The entire wall behind him was dominated by a large window that look out of the town of Cragshaw. With the town hall being so much larger than any other building, there were no neighboring buildings to offer shade from the sun. The height and window turning the entire office into an oven.

This probably explained why Diam was constantly dabbing at his receding hairline with a handkerchief. The man must sweat through his outfits daily in the magnifying glass he willfully put himself in.

Irene didn’t let any of these thoughts show. Her expression was as blank as her well-pressed white suit. Legs crossed, gloved hands folded in her lap, back straight, eyes forward. She gave nothing away. Something she could tell was making Diam uncomfortable. She said nothing, just regarded him coolly as he poured two glasses of brandy and set them on his desk between them.

Irene internally cringed at the sound of the glass hitting the wood. The rich, deep timber told her that it was genuine mahogany. To get wood like that so far out in the Seraphim desert, she was certain Diam had paid the equivalent of a house to obtain it.

“I must say, I’m surprised to have someone like you visit out little town, Irene. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Diam’s smile shone with false geniality. It felt less like talking to a mayor and more like she was being sold a used car.

Irene’s voice was light. “Well, Mayor Burride, a woman in my line of work is always on the lookout for new business opportunities and I think Cragshaw has just what I’m looking for.”

The smile on Diam’s face tightened. He hadn’t missed the deliberate distance she put into using his title when he hadn’t done the same for her. She was glad. If he was completely clueless than this wouldn’t be any fun. “Well, it’s certainly not every day such an…enterprising businesswoman such as yourself wanders into our little town. We rarely have visitors outside of the trading caravans that come to export our iron. Though I do wish we could have met without requiring…extra guests.”

His eyes briefly flickered from Irene to over her shoulder, where Alexa was reclined against the door. A coy little smile on her face as she looked over the men Diam had with him. He couldn’t even use his muscle properly, as he had all four of them standing behind him. If he’d had any sense, he’d have each man posted in one of the corners, surrounding Irene and Alexa. Instead, they were all lined up by the window to show a united front. Irene knew she would only need a single skilled sniper to be rid of the lot of them.

Plus, the poor men were clearly miserable beneath the harsh afternoon sun of the window. Something Alexa was softly teasing them with as she lightly fanned herself in one of the few respites of shade within the entire office.

Irene simply splayed her hands in a supplicating manner. “You must understand, Mayor Burride. I work in a very dangerous line of business. A single young woman can’t afford to be without proper protection.” She watched him carefully. His eyes again flickered to Alexa, taking in her expensive white trench coat and wide brimmed hat. He sniffed lightly, corners of his mouth jerking down. He clearly was of the opinion that Alexa was not proper protection and would offer no threat. That would cost him before this meeting was done.

Smarmy smile back in place, Diam said. “Of course, of course. I feel as though there are people after me constantly and I am simply a humble mayor trying to do what’s best for his people. I cannot imagine what threats an international arms dealer must anticipate. I have heard some tales of your exploits and I must ask; how did a woman end up in such an occupation?”

All the subtlety of a flying hammer. Irene responded with equal bluntness. “I’m afraid I’m here to discuss business, not personal matters. I’d like to move forward as quickly as possible. I have a tight schedule to keep.”

Vein bulging in his neck, Diam just barely managed to keep the smile on his face. “Of course, of course. My mistake.” He said through gritted teeth. Taking a moment to control himself, he continued. “Cragshaw is open to you. What business are you after? I assume it has something to do with our famous iron mine.”

Famous was certainly a stretch, but Irene would admit not a completely false claim either. The Cragshaw mine had been discovered some decades ago, with the eponymous town forming as people flocked to work there. The mine had been a minor but consistent source of distribution across multiple settlements within the Seraphim desert.

Irene considered her words carefully. “Simply put, I am hoping to expand my operations into Cragshaw itself.”

Diam quirked a brow. “You want to sell your weapons here? You won’t find much of a market. This corner of the desert is free of any dangerous wildlife and too far out of the way for any banditry. And I don’t enjoy the thought of arming my citizens.”

Irene had no doubts about that. “All excellent points, Mr. Mayor. And no, selling is not my goal, but rather, distribution. My plan is to bring various weapon parts into Cragshaw, where I will have them assembled, then distributed along the same supply lines you already use for your iron to bring them to settlements across the desert.”

Diam sat back, expression disbelieving. “You want to open a weapons factory here.”

She nodded, letting a small smile appear on her face. “Indeed. As you said, Cragshaw is out of the way and lacking in threats. This makes it an ideal place to store and process my weapons. Utilizing the supply lines that have already been established means I can even have weapons stored here while the factory is still being constructed. Further, the iron from the mine would also be an excellent resource, cutting down on costs of shipping, as I could simply process the materials directly.”

Diam considered her for several moments before responding. “That is…certainly a bold idea.” He said, failing to sound disinterested. Irene could see the greed glinting in his eyes as he considered the scope of her proposal. “While I suppose such an enterprise would be possible, there are many hurdles to consider. Zoning and land allocation, purchasing the iron, not mention what sort of fees and taxes will be due to the town for adding to the supply shipments.”

Given the eager smile Diam was fighting down, Irene was certain the “fees” due to the town would instead be going directly into his own coffers. “Still, I’m a reasonable man. If you are willing to meet these requirements, I see no reason why we cannot do business.”

Here, Irene smiled. The smile she always wore whenever she did business like this. Her lips were thin and narrow. Her teeth were apart, and her eyes were hooded. Those who’d done business with her often said that smile was as dangerous as the weapons she produced and seeing it aimed at you was like staring down the barrel of a gun. It was the same smile that had earned her the nickname Gunsmoke.

“I’m afraid, Mr. Mayor, that you have misread my intentions.” She paused for a moment, letting the uncertainty settle onto his face before continuing. “Going into business together? I’m afraid that was not my intention. My goal is the town of Cragshaw itself.”

“What are you saying?”

Grabbing the briefcase sitting on the floor beside her chair, Irene quickly snapped it open. She removed a thick stack of documents and held them up for Diam to see. His eyes widened as he recognized the official seal of the town council on the papers.

“What I hold here, Mr. Mayor, is the deeds for every house, business, and piece of land within Cragshaw. Up to and including a majority share within the mine itself. The only two pieces I don’t have are the one-fifth of the mine under your name, and this town hall itself. The purpose of this meeting is to have you sign those over to me. Although, whether you do or do not is unimportant. This town already belongs to me.”

Irene was sure the sweat on Diam’s brow now had nothing to do with the heat. “Y-your bluffing.”

She shook her head mockingly. “Oh no, Diam. I assure you; this is all quite official. I have you to thank for it as well. The ridiculous taxes and tariffs you’ve been putting on your citizens set the groundwork. I’m sure putting your citizens in debt seemed like such a good idea at the time. Line your pockets while also making sure they don’t have enough money to abandon the town. But it also means they were quite eager to assist a kind entrepreneur willing to buy their debt and their homes and business on a promise of much fairer rates.”

Shock had faded for Diam and rage was beginning to take over. “This is impossible. I have-”

“Oh, the various blackmail you have on your citizens?” Irene asked. “Yes, I’m aware of that as well. Which leads me to the other promise I made. Once you sign over the remaining land, you will resign as mayor and leave Cragshaw, never to return. The promise of seeing you disappear over the horizon was more than enough to get the council members you appointed to see things my way. A free piece of entrepreneurial advice. Neither soft hearts, nor iron fists can keep an organization long. You believed you could bully everyone beneath you, but that means you have no real allies eager to fight for you.”

Instead of yelling like Irene had expected, Diam began to laugh. “I will admit, you are much smarter than the chumps I’m used to in this town. But you’re crazy if you think you’ll be able to drive me out. What’s going to happen is, you’re gonna sign all those deeds over to me, along with all the names of those who thought they could get rid of me for some gun selling whore. After all, I had some research done on you before we came here. We wouldn’t want the Seraphs to know about the weapons you’ve been running through Banyon Gorge.”

Now it was Irene’s turn to laugh. “Oh, Diam. Just when I think you might surprise me, you fail to meet my expectations. You clearly didn’t do nearly enough research. I have an official letter of passage allowing me to use Banyon Gorge with the Seraphs’ blessing. Who do you think provides weapons for the Seraph army? They are one of my best customers.”

Irene shook her head. “Scum like you always assume everyone stoops to the same level as you. I can assure you that all of my dealings are legitimate. Running to the law won’t help you any. Not that you actually would, or else the Seraphs would find out about all of your dirty dealings.”

Diam’s eyes were narrow, the vein in his neck positively bulging now. “You have no proof of anything.”

A jaunty whistle drew his eyes to Alexa. Said eyes were blown wide as they saw her waving a black notebook. Irene’s smirk grew. “Extortion, bribery, physical threats. You’ve got quite a laundry list of bad deeds in this town. Thank you for being stupid enough to keep a meticulous record. It really made my job easier.”

He slumped in his seat, his world crashing around him. He glared at Irene darkly, which she met with her calm smile. Diam said. “I don’t like when things get bloody, but I’m not going to let some hopped up bitch ruin my life.” He waved his hand towards his bodyguards. “Kill her.”

None of them moved.

Diam’s head spun towards them. “Didn’t you hear me? I said kill her!” The men still did not move.

Irene clapped, slow and sarcastic. Smile growing as Diam turned back to glare at her. “You’re not a very good listener, are you? I told you; I already own all the land Cragshaw has to offer. That includes your little friends there. They worked for me before I even set foot in this building.”

Rage boiling over, Diam yanked open his desk and pulled a silver pistol from the drawer. He bellowed as he pointed the gun at Irene and pulled the trigger. The pistol clicked. Empty. Shock and confusion twisting his face, he pulled the trigger again and again. All it did was click.

Irene raised a single finger, like a teacher imparting a lesson. “Ah, yes, they were also kind enough to empty out your side piece before the meeting began. They were also willing to look the other way as we brought in our own.”Alexa stepped forward to stand by Irene. From within her white jacket she produced a black and gold revolver, which she aimed directly between Diam’s eyes. “I can assure you, Diam. This gun is loaded.”

Alexa cocked back the hammer.

Empty gun falling from limp fingers, Diam fell back into his seat. His face ashen soaked with sweat. His darted helplessly to his guards, but they all resolutely looked away. His eyes finally returned to Irene, wide and wild with fear and defeat.

“So tell me, Diam.” Irene said, her smirk wide. “Do we have a deal?”

#Fictober #Fictober22 #my writing #writing

[fourseasonsfigs]

Secret Symbol

I have to admit I've been putting off this post for a long time, in an attempt to actually figure out what the secret symbol IS before posting this.

Sadly, I am no closer to the answer than I was when I first received these figs, so I'm just going to go ahead and hope someone out there knows and can enlighten me.

The other confession I have is that I really underrated this set for a long time. I didn't buy it when it originally launched, and at the time I'm not entirely sure I would have. Back then I was doing my level best to restrict my fig purchases to some level of some basic sanity (and not really succeeding, but that's a different story), and I can tell you this set would not have immediately triggered any "must buy now" impulses in me. I considered it fairly plain, and not linked to any particular moment that I wanted to memorialize [note, maybe if I had known the secret symbol, I would have bought it!].

Later, I would see this set (inexpensively) on Xianyu and just zoom past it on my way to figs that I had missed or had really wanted. One day, some enterprising jiejie that knows the value of good marketing photography put up a great series of sales pictures, along with a great price, and I thought, why not.

So before we get into the figs, here's the inspiration for each of their outfits:

First, we have Zhehan's ultra cute Lanvin advertisement, where he's wearing the heart hoodie and shorts outfit we see on the fig.

Junjun's outfit is none other than his BEAST Panda Poo-Poo logo shirt and bag from the famous Pandagate photos:

A great start, isn't it??

When this arrived at my house I was struck by just how sweet this set actually is. Their faces with their little wiggly smiles are adorable. Junjun is looking like he's focusing hard on getting his hands just right, and Zhehan has a big bright smile.

You can see Gong Jun has a very pronounced lean in his pose - yes, the gravitational pull that Zhehan has is pretty significant indeed! That being said, like many people out there, Junjun's fig has one foot shorter than the other, so he's a bit off balance. Surprisingly so, he continues to balance just fine.

This is also the best angle to see Zhehan's silver crown earring, so check that out! I love how the fig maker included his ear mole and just worked around it.

More of Gong Jun's lean in pose! Zhehan's stance here is tall and straight, per usual with his impeccable posture.

What was that I said a couple posts ago on the sheer amount of time fig makers have spent carefully crafting Zhehan's butt? This fig maker was no slouch - she definitely contributed her fair share to the hourly total. That's a perky posterior, alright.

The other tush, however...well, Junjun, at least you make it easy and efficient for folks to model you!

The fig maker also took a lot of care and time to make a Junzhe version of both shirt logos!

Here's the best angle yet for showing fig Gong Jun's shorter foot, as well as the heart patches on the hoodie and the shorts.

Here's a good comparison of the heights, even with Junjun's pronounced lean forward.

I swapped the fig's places in case you wanted to see a set with them positioned differently. I really like Zhehan's shoes, they seem very fancy and designer. Junjun's sneakers are a little more casual, but they look good!

The paint on their feet were a little rubbed off in places, but that's not very noticable when they are standing at all.

Nothing too exciting for the top-down angle.

These box cards are sure cute. We have Love Heart Zhe and [Panda] Poo-Poo Jun.

Material: PVC

Fig Count: 270

Scene Count: 20

Rating: This is a VERY secret symbol!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

#junzhe #zhang zhehan #gong jun #word of honor cast #woh cast #shl cast #figthusiast

[famousjewelrytrends]

What to Know Before Buying Gold Plated Rings

Gold plated jewelry has become increasingly popular in the world of jewelry, offering a luxurious appearance at a fraction of the cost of solid gold. However, before you dive into the realm of gold plated rings—especially if you're thinking about purchasing wholesale gold plated jewelry—there are several important factors to consider.

Understanding the details will assist you are making a familiar decision and make sure that you get the fine price for your cash. This whole guide will cover the whole thing you need to know in advance when purchasing gold plated jewelry.

Understanding Gold Plating

Gold plating is a machine in which a skinny layer of gold is achieved to base steel, together with copper or chrome steel, in the use of an electrochemical manner. This layer is commonly very skinny, measured in microns, and might range in thickness. The first-rate and durability of gold plated rings depend on the thickness of the gold layer and the great of the bottom metal.

Thickness Matters

When it comes to gold plated rings, thickness matters. The thicker the gold layer, the longer the hoop will keep its luster and withstand wear. Rings with thicker gold plating are extra lengthy-lasting and lots less easy to tarnish. Therefore, when purchasing gold-plated jewelry, primarily in bulk quantities, it is imperative to ask about the thickness of the gold layer. 

Benefits of Gold Plated Rings

Affordability: The affordability of gold plated jewelry is one of its many wonderful advantages. They are accessible to a wider target market since they provide the look of stable gold at a far lower cost. 

Variety: Gold plated rings are available in several patterns, designs, and colors, allowing for greater versatility in style choices. Whether you choose traditional, vintage, or modern-day patterns, there may be a gold plated ring to fit your taste.

Durability: While no longer as long-lasting as solid gold, gold plated jewelry is extra lengthy and long-lasting than gold-filled or gold overlay earrings, especially if they have a thick layer of gold plating.

Buying Wholesale Gold Plated Jewelry

If you’re thinking about shopping wholesale gold plated rings, there are additional elements to recollect to ensure you’re making wise funding.

Supplier Reputation

When buying wholesale gold rings, it’s critical to choose a good provider. Research capability suppliers examine critiques, and check for any certifications or enterprise affiliations. A reliable supplier will offer remarkable merchandise and amazing customer support.

Sample Orders

Before committing to a huge wholesale order, request sample orders. This lets you look at the great of the gold plating and base metal firsthand. Pay attention to the end, weight, and standard craftsmanship of the jewelry.

Minimum Order Quantities

Wholesale suppliers regularly have minimum order quantities (MOQs). Ensure you know those necessities and are organized to fulfill them. MOQs can vary drastically between suppliers, so it’s vital to discover one that aligns along with your desires.

Trends in Gold Plated Rings

Gold plated jewelry retains to adapt in layout and reputation. Here are a few current developments to don't forget whilst buying your next piece:

Minimalist Designs

Minimalist designs offering smooth traces and simple shapes are popular in gold plated earrings. These rings are versatile and can be worn on my own or stacked for a layered look.

Vintage-Inspired Pieces

Vintage-inspired gold rings with problematic detailing and antique finishes are making a return. These pieces provide a timeless attraction and may upload a hint of beauty to any outfit.

Customization

Many rings makers are presenting customization options for gold plated rings. Personalized engravings, birthstones, and specific designs let you create a one-of-a-kind ring.

Conclusion

Gold plated rings offer a much less highly-priced and stylish alternative to solid gold rings. Whether you’re purchasing a single piece or shopping for wholesale gold plated jewelry, it’s vital to apprehend the elements that affect excellent and sturdiness. By taking note of the thickness of the gold plating, the fantastic backside metal, and the recognition of your provider, you could ensure that you’re making clever funding. Additionally, the right care and preservation will assist you revel in the beauty of your gold plated jewelry for years to come. Embrace the versatility and elegance of gold rings, and allow them to increase your ring collection to new heights.

#BangleBraceletsWholesale #WholesaleBraceletsUsa #GoldPlatedChainWholesale #WholesaleEarringsUsa #GoldPlatedPendantsWholesale #RosaryChainsWholesale #WholesaleFashionWatche