Alright by Jaheira

A gal who likes to yap about BG3 three times shadowban winner (please not again) 30s / 18+

[arlynx]

And then there was you

[the-shadowfell-darkroom]

In Memory Kept and @wasteful-sam’s gorgeous girl Nimriel 😩🖤 ty for trusting me with your girl pookie ✨

[carnivaley]

Lesson time, princess.

so, some time ago there was a tag with ocs as disney characters, i told my dear friend @saylofwaterdeep that she should do tavrin as shego but i did it only to make a spin off pic with vin as kim possible <3

it is a joke, i love hot tavrin

especially since vin is soooo cool in say's fic Override & Underground!!!

[echoechowhiskey]

BEWARE THE CLAW!!

Practicing Batstarion cause human hims face is pissing me off.

Since he's making me mad I decided to shake the heck out of him as a warm up .

Based off this hilarity I found while aimlessly scrolling pinterest ⬇️

[arlynx]

"What did I tell you? If Helsik can get us into the House of Hope, she can get us into Mephistar, too."

[kill-your-idles]

A shout out to writers who support writers

Writers who may be feeling insecure out their own writing, yet still enthusiastically reblog and comment on someone else’s fic.

Writers who may struggle to find time to write their own stories, yet still read fics and take the time to let the writers know how much they like it in tags, asks, comments.

Writers who can appreciate and share a fic even though it might not be their ship or their “thing” because they respect the quality and the writer.

Writers who have tons of followers and share lesser known fics to help them get exposure.

Writers who have a small number of followers and will still reblog the popular fics.

Writers who will help another writer brainstorm or get through a tough part of their fic.

Writers who beta for other writers.

Writers who are kind and secure enough to support other writers.

I see you, and appreciate the hell out of you.

[arlynx]

A WIP Sunday

Tagged by the ever talented @saylofwaterdeep @ele-millennial-weirdo @carnivaley @deianestormborn @elinorbard @gortashsrighthand @faeriiefire 💛 some of you tagged me twice, it's been a while since my last one, huh

Gentle uno reverse tags for you all - 'cause it's always a good time to post some wips - and also @defira85 @optimisticgrey @wasteful-sam @bladesingerlily @unovafarm @perpetualmaladaptivedaydream @purpleasters-inseptember @onlytavs @cursed-nyxan @bhaal-battle-beer-bard @cinder-rellish181

Act 3 of the DT AU, the evening before the Temple of Bhaal

He's almost awake when the Emperor severs the last threads tethering him to the dreamworld. And relays a message without waiting a bit. 

Gale stretches, wincing at the sensations, then sits up. He dresses himself decent inside his tent, before putting on his vest outside. 

The sun's almost set. With the forced shift to a nocturnal way of existing, Gale has developed a new sympathy for Astarion. If one doesn't count the golden hours, and the glorious view of their camp sites, the other man might not ever get to see his city in sunlight. 

A jug of cool, mint flavoured water to reset his system. A moment to brush through his sleep unruly hair, and then he's marching to the meeting spot.

Ophelia sits by the old, rusty piano that survived a cruel act of abandonment mostly intact who knows how or for how long. Her fingers hover over the keys, hesitating to inflict its groaning sounds on anyone’s ears. 

“Good evening,” he says as he enters and carefully closes the creaky door behind him. There are several candles inside the small space, lit up already. Quite frankly, they do little to cozy it up. 

She rises to her feet, a tiny smile on her lips. “Hi.”

Gale frowns. If there’s one thing that’s been true since their meeting, it’s that she never hesitated to take up space. Whether it belonged to her or not. But now he looks at her and it’s like something is missing. “The Emperor said you wanted to talk?”

Nodding, she crosses over the short distance to him. A candlestick stands on the stone table to his right and she moves it absent-mindedly. Like one might do when they’re stalling.

“Do you remember, uh, that night in the Shadow-Cursed lands?” 

Does he ever. It’s barely been a tenday. The night after their big win. The night he was woken up by Enver, a bundle of rope in hand and an almost ruthless efficiency in his every move or order. Rubbing sleep from his eyes as they focused on the bedroll next to him and Ophelia sitting on it, head in hands, squeezing it so tightly he feared it might crack like an egg. Until she lost the fight, collapsing into a barely breathing heap, but not before grabbing at his arm, fear and urgency and madness in her eyes, and begging a promise out of him. 

Swallowing a lump, Gale nods. “I do.” 

She nods as well. “In about an hour, we’re going to have the who’s going where argument again. But I want you to come with us. Jaheira, too, I think.” 

“I can think of several others who would voice their disagreement.” 

“And they’re the most compromised,” she retorts. 

Briefly, he wonders if this is bait. Or just the lead up. But the question is only natural to ask. “And Enver isn’t?” 

The humming noise she makes is almost a chuckle. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. After the temple, I need you to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

“You mean when you’re preoccupied with fighting your deranged sister to the death?” he asks, viscerally wishing to give his mother a hug. And to thank her for actually being a good mother. Whatever faults or flaws he has, they're not the courtesy of one Morena Dekarios. Well, with the exception, perhaps, of his inability to carry a tune.

“Then.” She pauses, her eyes darting away around the small space, until she takes a deep breath as if steeling herself. “But really, mostly after it's all over."

Confused, Gale raises an eyebrow. “You plan on winning, don’t you?”

Their eyes lock. Ophelia gives him the tiniest of smiles, and suddenly, he really, truly doesn't want to hear what comes next. 

"Gale, I'm going to die tonight."

He speaks before he thinks, which can be a gamble as to what precisely comes out, but right now the words that leave his mouth are right. “You can beat Orin.”

“I know. I will. Orin is not the problem.” 

In an instant, his insides grow cold. One too many reminders of facing his own mortality is an unavoidable pit in his stomach. The bitter and hopeless certainty, the same he hears in her voice. And the fierce, fiery denial, refusal that rises but a moment later. 

Is this how Tara felt? 

"You don't know for certain that he-"

She lifts her hand to cut him off. "I do. There's no story in which I walk into his temple and walk out on my own two feet."

Conjecture and speculation and plain old fears. He won't stand for it. Not after everything. The things they've fought against, the things they've accepted and reassessed. "Jaheira's friend-"

"Was different. And a much gooder person." She looks up to the heavens hidden by an old, hole-ridden roof, the corners of her eyes wrinkling in a frown-grimace. "My father made me. If I stop dancing to the tune of his drum, he's not going to clutch a hand to his heart, marveling at his little girl, all grown up and forging her own path in this cruel, cruel world, then give me his blessing to live a life I want to live. No, of course not! He's just going to unmake me. If I’m not his puppet, I’m useless. Or- or I'm gold in the Counting House that's stopped bringing in profits. It's only logical to find a different place to invest in."

"You’re not seriously rationalising your potential death—no, murder." Because that would be it, a cold act of calculated murder. "More to the point, you are not an investment. You're a living, breathing person."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive." At his astonished look, she huffs. "What did you expect? We're not exactly the most functional family in the multiverse, you know."

He opens his mouth to- what? Argue? He must concede the last point she made. But he also has stood on the precipice. He knows what it’s like to stare in death’s face and believe it to be inevitable. He knows what it’s like to lose hope and then find it again, small and weak and shimmering in the darkness. “I refuse to accept that. There is always another way. We’ve been through quite a lot together, haven't we, so I’m sure if just we put our collective minds to it, we will-”

A wince runs across her face.

Oh. 

Her ask.

“I take it Enver has not been told of-” your living will, he almost says. 

“Gods no. Or I wouldn’t go within a mile of the temple. But something tells me that skipping that dance would be much worse.” 

“Worse than being unmade?” Whatever the hells it means. Aside from death, of course.

“Some things are. Alfira is dead, and I still don't remember anything but the terror in her eyes as I..." she trails off and sighs. "Then it almost happened again. Another night I can barely remember."

"So you think he could just, uh, take over?" he asks, horror growing inside at the thought. Their misadventures with the tadpoles—and true True Souls—certainly cast it in a new light. "By Mystra's grace."

"Nothing by her grace that's for sure. But if my father were to do... that, at least you wouldn't have any problem killing me. And if he brings me back again, you'll just kill me again. Each time more creatively. Make it a fun drinking game, will you?" 

Incredulous, he stares. "How can you make jokes about that?" 

She spreads her arms open wide. "I've tried crying, there must be something wrong with me—aside from the obvious, I mean—because I can't seem to cry. So this is the only thing left. I'm going to die tonight." She laughs, a mirthless sound that soars then breaks. It sends a shiver of pain through him. "And I just... I- I want more time. I just want more time. But it’s never going to be enough."

Wordlessly, Gale pulls her into a hug. She goes willingly, holding tight. After what feels like a small eternity, she pulls back, eyes boring into his.

“Promise me,” she demands. 

“I refuse to accept-”

“Please.”

And he means it. There is another way, they just need to find it. “However, should the unthinkable happen… I will do everything in my power.” 

He just can't promise that even everything will be enough.

[gothastarion]

[fireflyeyes]

tav: movie star

ty so much my love @carnivaley for the tag (her brilliant post is here)

tag game: Recreate a VP of your Tav as the main character or your fave character from your favourite movie — within the limits of photo mode, of course. Make a whole entourage if you like.

This was harder than I thought it was going to be tbh. I love so many movies and there are only so many mods. But ultimately I had to go with my favorite couple in my favorite trilogy:

I mean. I made several references to them in State of Grace. I HAD to do Arwen and Aragorn.

"This is a dream." "Then it is a good dream."

ok two more because I am obsessed with them.

Some very gentle tip tap tags for @perpetualmaladaptivedaydream @saylofwaterdeep @toomanyfamiliars @riddlerosehearts @kt-catt @faeriiefire @unovafarm @ele-millennial-weirdo @gortashsrighthand @asorceresswrites @cep-stories @theendofanerror @elinorbard @cinder-rellish181 & @dynamicducks

[purpleasters-inseptember]

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴏɴ…📺

As per usual, @bhaal-battle-beer-bard comes up with the most creative tag ideas, and it's always such an honour to be tagged 💜 Go read more about this tag in the original post.

For this post, I'm basing it on the Netflix series Criminal! It's a series in which a team of detectives interrogate some of the worst fictional criminals to make them admit their crimes. The subject matter is heavy, and the acting is great.

And I had some fun by creating some "Gateflix" adverts!

Of course, the main character is Miss Evil Durge herself, Phaena!

And no, there's no coincidence that her former childhood best friend, Indira and Resist Durge Zailia are a part of the investigation 👀

gentle, no pressure, tagging you lovely people! 💜 (please tag me in a comment if you've already done this!) @the-shadowfell-darkroom @wasteful-sam, @cursed-nyxan, @arlynx, @deianestormborn, @starlit-serpent @perpetualmaladaptivedaydream, @fangedgrace, @avaritia-bg3, @optimisticgrey, @facetheworldbitch, @doomedlamb, @saylofwaterdeep, @bladesingerlily, @goodgirlgonebard, @thesanguinesonnet, @victoria-strangelove & anyone else who wants to join!!

Reference poster below 👇🏻

[starlit-serpent]

Confession time: Iggy is genuinely one of the most beautiful drow OCs I've ever seen and I often browse her tag just to marvel at her <3

WAH SAM!!! 😭💜Thank you 🥹

I just so happened to be working on some VP before I got this and had taken this little unrelated closeup of her because I also have to stop and marvel at her now and again. You have always been such a sweetheart and I adore Nim so much!

[the-shadowfell-darkroom]

OC Infodump Tag Game

ty for the tag @avaritia-bg3! ✨ and I feel like I’m missing someone else, plz lmk and I’ll update this!

I didn't get to do this tag the first time it went around, so I'm glad to do it now😁

focusing on my diva as usual, but i may come back and add the others eventually

THIS AMAZING PIC OF MY GIRL WAS TAKEN BY MY POOKIE @cursed-nyxan 💕

BASICS

Name: Melankólia Blackblood

Alias: Mellie, (Lady) Melancholy

Background: Haunted One (Noble if she was a Tav)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pronouns: She/Her

OTHER

Family: She's part of House Blackblood alongside In Memory Kept (who is Mellie’s aunt for those of you who don’t know). Other members include her mother, grandmother, two other aunts, an uncle, and her two older cousins who are basically her older siblings beause they were raised closely.

And Bhaal, of course.

i really need to stop dragging my feet with the house blackblood post, it’s sitting in my drafts atm💀

Birthplace: Gloomwrought

Job: Being Bhaal's Chosen 🤣 she is a gloom weaver, but isn’t actually allowed to serve the Raven Queen.

Phobias/Fears: Mellie is afraid of extreme winds after an incident where she was thrown face first into a wall of razorvine during one of her routine commutes from the Shadowfell to Bhaal’s temple on a tempestuous day. This is how she acquired the scars on her face and neck.

By extension, this includes wind elementals/spells involving wind. She will always instinctively cover her face.

Hobbies: Murder, shopping, looking hot, helping He Who Was torment guilty souls, sparring, spoiling her raven (Peony)

MORALS

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Flaws:

Genuinely the most vain/self absorbed woman you will ever meet. Mellie believes that anyone who died on the day she was born (7 Uktar 1387) was making room for her.

Selfish

Likes to start drama/conflict for fun

Does whatever she wants whenever she wants

Will convince you to make the worst possible life decisions

Murderer 😭💀

Virtues:

Will defend anyone she cares about

Very overprotective of In Memory Kept

Has a special place in her heart for ravens (as all shadar-kai should)

THIS OR THAT

Introvert / Ambivert / Extrovert

Organized / Disorganized

Closed-minded / Open-minded

Calm / Anxious / Restless

Disagreeable / In-Between / Agreeable

Patient / In-Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In-Between / Reserved

Leader / Follower / Flexible

Empathetic / In-Between / Apathetic

Optimist / Realist / Pessimist

Traditional / In-between / Modern

Hard-working / In-Between / Lazy

np tags, trying to tag whoever didn't do this yet: @purpleasters-inseptember @deianestormborn @faeriiefire @arlynx @ratchsellsfornax @thesanguinesonnet @starlit-serpent @elandra-beltharys @facetheworldbitch + open tag✨

[deianestormborn]

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴏɴ…📺

tagged by darling @purpleasters-inseptember and @faeriiefire | OG Tag Post by @bhaal-battle-beer-bard

Deiane Stormborn as Daenerys Targaryen, Game of Thrones | ASOIAF

I am shocked that it took me a moment to think of this one. I mean, it's literally on the nose, with Deia's name, dragons, fire, etcetera. I guess my brain completely erased GoT from my memory because of my massive heartbreak with the last season. Good old days when GoT was actually good...

Fun fact: I had used the name Stormborn before I knew, heard of, or watched GoT/read the ASOIAF books. It was meant to be.

Inspo pic for the first one:

Tagging according to my Tag List post and private agreements. If you want to be on a Tag List, interact with this post or let me know in some other way. If you want to be removed, let me know too.

Gentle tags: @gortashsrighthand @doomedlamb @wasteful-sam @starlit-serpent @thesanguinesonnet @valannamizarym @rdekarios @unovafarm @ann-bg3-lol @cursed-nyxan @the-shadowfell-darkroom @facetheworldbitch @elandra-beltharys @sadsandwich1 @heartcrystal2000 @optimisticgrey @lucretiouswept @theya-art @vxxmpster @vasiliquemort @catlightcatkeepcatboss @gems-of-fandom @julieanadequatename @fireflyeyes @carnivaley @sadsandwich1 @obsessedwhyyes @arlynx @cinder-rellish181 @perpetualmaladaptivedaydream @baelthi @victoria-strangelove

[doomedlamb]

OC TEMPLATE

Thank you @ilinarie @arlynx @faeriiefire @theya-art for the tag ❤️

template here

i don't even know tbh i'd have to spend another hour explaining why i did it this way. it took way too much time wtf </3

open tag because i'm fucking late and i'm sure all mutuals been tagged already.

[shadowseductress]

Let me trace constellations on your skin while you fall asleep on my chest.

[arlynx]

A WIP Sunday

Tagged by the ever talented @saylofwaterdeep @ele-millennial-weirdo @carnivaley @deianestormborn @elinorbard @gortashsrighthand @faeriiefire 💛 some of you tagged me twice, it's been a while since my last one, huh

Gentle uno reverse tags for you all - 'cause it's always a good time to post some wips - and also @defira85 @optimisticgrey @wasteful-sam @bladesingerlily @unovafarm @perpetualmaladaptivedaydream @purpleasters-inseptember @onlytavs @cursed-nyxan @bhaal-battle-beer-bard @cinder-rellish181

Act 3 of the DT AU, the evening before the Temple of Bhaal

He's almost awake when the Emperor severs the last threads tethering him to the dreamworld. And relays a message without waiting a bit. 

Gale stretches, wincing at the sensations, then sits up. He dresses himself decent inside his tent, before putting on his vest outside. 

The sun's almost set. With the forced shift to a nocturnal way of existing, Gale has developed a new sympathy for Astarion. If one doesn't count the golden hours, and the glorious view of their camp sites, the other man might not ever get to see his city in sunlight. 

A jug of cool, mint flavoured water to reset his system. A moment to brush through his sleep unruly hair, and then he's marching to the meeting spot.

Ophelia sits by the old, rusty piano that survived a cruel act of abandonment mostly intact who knows how or for how long. Her fingers hover over the keys, hesitating to inflict its groaning sounds on anyone’s ears. 

“Good evening,” he says as he enters and carefully closes the creaky door behind him. There are several candles inside the small space, lit up already. Quite frankly, they do little to cozy it up. 

She rises to her feet, a tiny smile on her lips. “Hi.”

Gale frowns. If there’s one thing that’s been true since their meeting, it’s that she never hesitated to take up space. Whether it belonged to her or not. But now he looks at her and it’s like something is missing. “The Emperor said you wanted to talk?”

Nodding, she crosses over the short distance to him. A candlestick stands on the stone table to his right and she moves it absent-mindedly. Like one might do when they’re stalling.

“Do you remember, uh, that night in the Shadow-Cursed lands?” 

Does he ever. It’s barely been a tenday. The night after their big win. The night he was woken up by Enver, a bundle of rope in hand and an almost ruthless efficiency in his every move or order. Rubbing sleep from his eyes as they focused on the bedroll next to him and Ophelia sitting on it, head in hands, squeezing it so tightly he feared it might crack like an egg. Until she lost the fight, collapsing into a barely breathing heap, but not before grabbing at his arm, fear and urgency and madness in her eyes, and begging a promise out of him. 

Swallowing a lump, Gale nods. “I do.” 

She nods as well. “In about an hour, we’re going to have the who’s going where argument again. But I want you to come with us. Jaheira, too, I think.” 

“I can think of several others who would voice their disagreement.” 

“And they’re the most compromised,” she retorts. 

Briefly, he wonders if this is bait. Or just the lead up. But the question is only natural to ask. “And Enver isn’t?” 

The humming noise she makes is almost a chuckle. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. After the temple, I need you to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

“You mean when you’re preoccupied with fighting your deranged sister to the death?” he asks, viscerally wishing to give his mother a hug. And to thank her for actually being a good mother. Whatever faults or flaws he has, they're not the courtesy of one Morena Dekarios. Well, with the exception, perhaps, of his inability to carry a tune.

“Then.” She pauses, her eyes darting away around the small space, until she takes a deep breath as if steeling herself. “But really, mostly after it's all over."

Confused, Gale raises an eyebrow. “You plan on winning, don’t you?”

Their eyes lock. Ophelia gives him the tiniest of smiles, and suddenly, he really, truly doesn't want to hear what comes next. 

"Gale, I'm going to die tonight."

He speaks before he thinks, which can be a gamble as to what precisely comes out, but right now the words that leave his mouth are right. “You can beat Orin.”

“I know. I will. Orin is not the problem.” 

In an instant, his insides grow cold. One too many reminders of facing his own mortality is an unavoidable pit in his stomach. The bitter and hopeless certainty, the same he hears in her voice. And the fierce, fiery denial, refusal that rises but a moment later. 

Is this how Tara felt? 

"You don't know for certain that he-"

She lifts her hand to cut him off. "I do. There's no story in which I walk into his temple and walk out on my own two feet."

Conjecture and speculation and plain old fears. He won't stand for it. Not after everything. The things they've fought against, the things they've accepted and reassessed. "Jaheira's friend-"

"Was different. And a much gooder person." She looks up to the heavens hidden by an old, hole-ridden roof, the corners of her eyes wrinkling in a frown-grimace. "My father made me. If I stop dancing to the tune of his drum, he's not going to clutch a hand to his heart, marveling at his little girl, all grown up and forging her own path in this cruel, cruel world, then give me his blessing to live a life I want to live. No, of course not! He's just going to unmake me. If I’m not his puppet, I’m useless. Or- or I'm gold in the Counting House that's stopped bringing in profits. It's only logical to find a different place to invest in."

"You’re not seriously rationalising your potential death—no, murder." Because that would be it, a cold act of calculated murder. "More to the point, you are not an investment. You're a living, breathing person."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive." At his astonished look, she huffs. "What did you expect? We're not exactly the most functional family in the multiverse, you know."

He opens his mouth to- what? Argue? He must concede the last point she made. But he also has stood on the precipice. He knows what it’s like to stare in death’s face and believe it to be inevitable. He knows what it’s like to lose hope and then find it again, small and weak and shimmering in the darkness. “I refuse to accept that. There is always another way. We’ve been through quite a lot together, haven't we, so I’m sure if just we put our collective minds to it, we will-”

A wince runs across her face.

Oh. 

Her ask.

“I take it Enver has not been told of-” your living will, he almost says. 

“Gods no. Or I wouldn’t go within a mile of the temple. But something tells me that skipping that dance would be much worse.” 

“Worse than being unmade?” Whatever the hells it means. Aside from death, of course.

“Some things are. Alfira is dead, and I still don't remember anything but the terror in her eyes as I..." she trails off and sighs. "Then it almost happened again. Another night I can barely remember."

"So you think he could just, uh, take over?" he asks, horror growing inside at the thought. Their misadventures with the tadpoles—and true True Souls—certainly cast it in a new light. "By Mystra's grace."

"Nothing by her grace that's for sure. But if my father were to do... that, at least you wouldn't have any problem killing me. And if he brings me back again, you'll just kill me again. Each time more creatively. Make it a fun drinking game, will you?" 

Incredulous, he stares. "How can you make jokes about that?" 

She spreads her arms open wide. "I've tried crying, there must be something wrong with me—aside from the obvious, I mean—because I can't seem to cry. So this is the only thing left. I'm going to die tonight." She laughs, a mirthless sound that soars then breaks. It sends a shiver of pain through him. "And I just... I- I want more time. I just want more time. But it’s never going to be enough."

Wordlessly, Gale pulls her into a hug. She goes willingly, holding tight. After what feels like a small eternity, she pulls back, eyes boring into his.

“Promise me,” she demands. 

“I refuse to accept-”

“Please.”

And he means it. There is another way, they just need to find it. “However, should the unthinkable happen… I will do everything in my power.” 

He just can't promise that even everything will be enough.

[saylofwaterdeep]

WIP Friday! - NSFW edition

I haven't shared a wip in a bit, and the next chapter of O&U modern AU is almost done! One final scene and then editing and it's ready to go <3

I wasn't sure what part to share, but I got some really great feedback (read: unhinged screeching) over the smut scene, so I will follow suit and do a spicy wip like @scoldingdarjeeling (ty for the tag!) I was also tagged by @cinder-rellish181 ty bby!

disclaimer: do not have sex on a laboratory table in real life, obviously. but in fiction do whatever you want lol (there is nothing explicit in this snippet, just the leadup lol)

“You expect me to believe you’re not at all tempted?”

Gale's throat bobs as he swallows, eyes scanning her form with obvious wanting. “I don’t recall using those words. Though I am intimately familiar with your enthusiasm for more…risky scenarios.”

A sinister laugh plays through her throat like a discordant siren song. “As if you don’t get off on the risk~”

He cracks a smile that he intends as confident, but it wavers under the weight of his fading self-discipline. “Ah, risk itself is not the problem.” Subconsciously, he takes a single step closer. A hint to his impending surrender. “After all, you are the professional in matters of safe practices in the laboratory. I should hate to compromise your credibility in that regard.”

There it is. That little twitch at the corner of his eye, that smug edge along the curve of his smile. He’s not hesitant—he’s trying to make her break first. 

Arrogant man~

Tavrin could play the denial card to break him, but she hates that card. It’s cheap. Too easily reversed. Unsatisfying. She can do far better.

“Oh, it’s lab safety you’re worried about?” She lifts her head off her chin, mouth curved into a perfect ‘o’ of feigned surprise. Tav reaches for a box to her right, deliberately leaned over to give him a clear view of her devastating cleavage. She pulls one black latex glove on tight over her hand, pretending to focus on what she’s doing when really she’s watching him sweat past the gaps in her fingers. It becomes increasingly difficult to maintain her poker face. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” She slowly tugs the other glove on, stretching it more than necessary. Her eyes snap up to lock with his across the way, and her wicked grin returns. “Come here~” She releases the latex, and the glove snaps against her wrist.

His restraint snaps immediately after. 

She will sanitize it after. she's a professional, after all xD

gentle tags for @tociminna @fireflyeyes @carnivaley @defira85 @arlynx @toomanyfamiliars @gortashsrighthand @elinorbard @ele-millennial-weirdo @asorceresswrites @perpetualmaladaptivedaydream @faeriiefire

ALSO special thanks to @theendofanerror for helping me with the vibes on this one. The glove-snap was her brainworm she infected me with