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something-about-sunflowers · 8 months

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ALRIGHT, *cracks knuckles* let's get into that teaser, shall we?

Should I itemize this? I think I'm going to itemize it lmao.

So:

Starting here because this is a baseline for Stede, he's got no neckerchief here. This is likely early in the season, probably the very start.

Man's got a fuckin' ARM.

This is Ed. You can see the bare right arm in both shots.

Red neckerchief. Ed's scrap of silk? Beat to shit if it is, which, he did toss it out to sea so, it would be.

Ed's not wearing the knee brace. Or gloves for that matter. I know the knee brace being an actual mobility aid is unconfirmed canon/fanon but it does make me :(c to see him without it. Either it wasn't actually considered as a mobility aid or he's lost it like he's lost his gloves OR he's going without it because he doesn't care if it hurts.

Closer shot of the neckerchief.

I just wanted to point out all the knives stabbed into the table. Also, those look like bits of paper on the windows, did they keep some of the books to repurpose for window blocking purposes?

THERE HE IS!!!!!!!! Other people have already pointed out the makeup and his ring still on his tie, along with the whip on his hip cjizzy real. He's got a new baldric but I also think his clothes look. Darker? Than in season 1? This is a darker/heavier contrast setting but it carries into other shots of him too I think? Like they're less sun/saltwater faded or something?

Other thing to note: If I have my orientation right, this is to the right of Stede's bed nook and to the left of the library, which means this shelf is the one with the auxiliary wardrobe opening mechanism. Which I bring up because:

This little guy seems to be in the place of the mannequin. Ed kept the auxiliary wardrobe and gothed up the mannequin to justify it still being there.

SO much here. This is, I'm fairly certain, Benjamin Hornigold. This camp he's set up (along with what he's wearing) looks like it was made out of a shipwreck. Ed's barefoot and missing his jacket and gloves, and his shirt's torn up at the sleeves. Definitely where he washed up from his dip in the ocean.

Note the trees and the lighting, that comes up later. Ed shoots here and Ben moves with the shot but it doesn't look like he was actually HIT by it to my eyes.

'Wanted. |Blackbeard| Villainous Pirate. Murderer, thrice over. $400 Reward for the criminal responsible for: theft - brigandry - larceny - arson - tax evasion ➡' Presumably there are more crimes/info on the back, though we see the reverse side in the next cut and it's either blank or all in very small text, I couldn't quite tell.

The poster to the right says 'Port' something which has me wondering Port Royal but that's just the only 'Port' something I know, could def be somewhere else.

(Also, just for fun:

Here's how much abouts Ed's capture would be worth now.)

Wider pic than it needs to be but I didn't wanna cut out Olu lol. ANYWAY. Neckerchief again. Also the back of the poster, see what I mean about it either being blank or very tiny?

Babygirl. . . But also that Bride Ed figure kinda slays. Little bralette with the midriff showing, I see you Babygirl. When will he be allowed to just rest and do silly little crafts WITHOUT heartbreak looming over him?

Well. Four is not nine. So. There's that. The other five could be used or out of frame though, of course.

OH. He's back to his fingerless gloves! They might actually be different from his original ones though, they look different at the wrist to me, not quite sure though.

The BOYS!!!! Frenchie looks like he's having a GREAT time. Considering he suggested they turn the hostage into a table and complained about the Republic of Pirates being a bit gentrified I'd say this is more in line with what he's used to in piracy. I 100% buy he was going along with Stede's way because he knew it was an easy ride compared to real piracy. This wouldn't necessarily be a return to form for him but definitely something he's more used to? And he gets to be kitty :3c

And FANG!!! Look at him showing a bit more skin!! Good for him!!

Everybody say 'Thank You David Jenkins'. Right now. Look at this Mad Max shit. Fuckin' Imperator Jimenez right there. LOVE that tye added the 'beard' after the 'fuck's wrong with your face?' bit in 1x10. Full 'it looked weird on you but I slay' energy.

Jim

Izzy

Fang

Near as I can tell at least. I can't make out if Frenchie is in the shot and I'm pretty positive Ed isn't cause he stayed by the cake when they charged in.

Man, yknow I know we were all kinda clowning on it a bit at the end of 1x10 but this look really is so JARRING. Like, in the dark it's menacing but in the light? It's unhinged and that reads as more dangerous imo.

Also just for comparison's sake the pre-Ed-ified version of the bride figure. He really did full on customize that thing lol.

I DON'T THINK ANNE KISSED STEDE HERE. It feels out of character of the show to pull the 'It's fine if a woman does it to a man' kind of thing with regard to unwanted kissing. This is the frame the scene starts on in the trailer. She's leaning back from him and isn't nearly close enough to his mouth to say for certain that's where she was coming from. My money is on her leaning in to whisper something into his ear, maybe under the guise of it being an advance/intended kiss, which would also explain the annoyed look when she's interrupted. She either got ACTUALLY interrupted or it's part of the act. Stede doesn't look nearly as uncomfortable as he would be if she'd kissed him or tried to, he looks confused.

Izzy going for his sword when this guy tries to get the drop on Stede. He either is starting to care or he knows how much Ed needs him alive.

Also, this is the other potential source of Stede's neckerchief. Mr, Knife right here has a red one and Stede doesn't have it in this scene. I do think this one is a little less distressed than the one Stede has though so it could just be coincidence.

See? No neckerchief. He DOES have a sword at his hip tho! So this, I think, is after Izzy's started training him.

Also, he actually looks really good in red lol.

Baby. He's definitely missing the ring in this shot. It sits higher than the baldric is covering. I want to give him a little kissie on his ouchie and then let him have a nap, he needs that.

The pants match the coat. Also, black shirt. Stede is kinda slaying ngl.

Still missing her head :(c. Isn't that bad luck?

Maybe yall didn't hear me properly with the Jim pic. I'll repeat:

EVERYBODY SAY 'THANK YOU DAVID JENKINS'.

I can't get over how Stede's just standing there politely with his arms behind his back lmfao.

Also, Izzy's got his right leg up, he's putting his weight on his left. . . 'foot'.

I SAID EVERYBODY SAY-

I know tits and all but also. The belly. I would like to. Bite.

*ahem*

ANYWAY. On the left (our left) side of the barrel you can see the tip of his right boot so he's def got that leg off the ground. Perhaps someone is trying to relearn their footwork? Now that they've got a different balance than they're used to? And perhaps a difference in sensory input in the leg he's standing on? Possibly?

This is the same beach Ed was on when he did the fuckin' RAD takedown of the other officer but it definitely looks like different times of day. Having both in the teaser is def meant to be a red herring. He doesn't have the neckerchief in this shot either.

Bra för honom. (Is how google translate tells me you say 'Good for him' in Swedish.)

Is Jackie's hair the same here as it is in the VF pic with Ed? Or like, similar enough to be a 'later in the day after some Fun™ messing it up a bit'?

Roach!!! Fully sleeveless now, added a belt, got some flowers tied to the strings/straps of his apron. Looks like he's having fun lighting that cannon lol. Pretty sure this is the same scene as that one leaked photo of him dancing with Fang and Izzy's green screen sock. He had the flowers in that, right?

[Ran out of allowed images, please hold]

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ssahotchnerr · 7 months

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omg the math homework one but aaron is the one who's bad at math (ok canonically he's probably very good at math) so you go over to his place one day and find him hunched over jack's math homework with his hand tangled in his hair trying to figure out a 3rd grade math problem. and jack has already lost interest and is watching cartoons on the TV while aaron is losing his mind. im thinking of that one incredibles scene where bob is like "THEY CHANGED MATH"

calling bullshit

just the image of aaron losing his complete mind over math 😭 omg <3 cw; mention of food, aaron is just 😭😒🤨🥰

you let yourself into aaron's apartment, takeout in hand. you enter into the usual scene - the lamp's lit in the corner, casting a warm, cozy glow. some laundry is perched on the chair, yet to be put away. jack's sprawled out on the couch, some show blaring in front of him. the only unusual thing, aaron seems to be absent.

"hey jackers." you stand beside him, brushing back some of the wispy hairs draped over his forehead. he doesn't acknowledge you too much, as his eyes are glued to the tv screen, simply murmuring a 'hi' in response. "where's your dad?"

"doing homework."

your nose crinkles in confusion. "homework?"

you receive a nod from him in response, and leave him be in search of aaron. you find him in the dining room, vaguely slouched over the table, frustratedly running his hand through his hair. it's quite disheveled, poking in all different directions. his tie is thrown exasperatedly onto the table as well, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"yikes." your tone is half laugh, half genuine concern. "difficult case?"

aaron straightens his posture, leaning his head back to look at you. his sweet brown eyes are heavily annoyed. "take a look at this."

you grimace slightly. "oh, i don't think i would be much help-"

"just, trust me. take a look."

you cautiously peer over his shoulder, expecting to come face to face with gruesome, murderous details of whatever case his team happens to be working on. but rather, you see multiple math worksheets - jack's name in his childlike, messy-yet-legible print in the corner of each.

you bit down onto your lip to refrain from laughing. "oh, this kind of homework."

"why the hell would they change math." aaron gruffs, tossing his pencil onto the table. "it's universal, isn't it? means the same damn thing everywhere. so who cares if you carry the number this way, or line up the problem this way."

"well, i mean-"

"this is third grade math, i'm a grown man and i've been sitting here trying to make sense of this new way how to do it. it's complete bullshit, if you ask me." a large exhale escapes him, his annoyance now heightening into slight anger. "and they say, this is the new simpler, easier way of doing it? again, bullshi-"

"okay." you laugh, placing a gentle kiss on his head. your hands wrap around him from behind, allowing you to soothingly run your palms along his chest. "how about you try and calm down. i brought food, so we'll eat, and you can take a break. afterwards, all three of us will sit down and figure this out. sound good?"

aaron releases another tense breath, relaxing back into his chair at your touch, and nods silently. you turn your head, placing a kiss on his neck. it's the closest skin of his you can reach, and his skin's warm from his aggravation.

not without giving him another kiss, you trail into the kitchen. but, you can hear him mumbling incoherently under his breath. "-everyone ends up using calculators anyway."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x you #hotch imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #let's talk aaron <333333

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nyaskitten · 3 months

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EDIT: THIS POST IS INACCURATE !!!

I made the assumption Olive was editing the wiki articles, and while that's a very logical conclusion to reach, it was actually someone who shares the same viewpoints as them!!! Anything including the wiki articles and Olive's involvement is wrong and that's my bad!!!

Alright fellas, I guess we did it. We have reached the tipping point. I'm going to dedicate this post to calling out one specific person, @olivescales3, and their very toxic behavior. This post will be a bit messy, and I do apologize in advance, I'm writing this from the perspective of a Ninjago fan who also thinks beyond just the petty fandom stuff, what they're doing is just not cool.

I will clarify, I do not make this post for petty fandom drama, I make this to better spread awareness on some of the bullshit they're doing, so you can look out for and understand that they're bullshitting. Without further ado, I think we should just get into it.

So, what have they done?

Now, I should say while there is no 100000% concrete link between hyenabro and olivescales, I think based on their talking points (as well and the information I've recieved from friends in the Chima fandom, who have a bunch of prior experience with them,) it's safe to make this assumption!

So, what has olivescales DONE in this case? Simple, they've vandalized the Chima wiki on NUMEROUS occasions, even after several different people have revised their revisions, so as to discredit any conenctions between Dragons Rising and Chima.

(Green is their edits, red is the ones prior to theirs, I found this while going through their contributions section on their Fandom account, HyenaBro119)

As seen here, they have (under the username HyenaBro119) edited the pages for Chima AND the Forever Rock (I have two similar screenshots of essentially the same thing, one was from the Forever Rock article, the other was from Chima) and claimed Ninjago's lore to be some alternate universe. To further validate it, they write "Ras' visit to," but Ras NEVER claimed to have VISITED these locations, just that he knows them. They also claim the Forever Rock was destroyed, a blatant lie. Only a small section of rock on the Forever Rock was actually destroyed, not the whole thing.

Now, you're gonna ask "but Raine, how can you 100000% say it's them?" and I will cite common sense. While I cannot directly tie Olive to hyena, I CAN say their wording is SO very similar.

Both Hyena and Olive call DR "a parallel/alternate universe," and again, claim Forever Rock was destroyed, WHICH IS A FULL ON LIE. They're so adamant to protect "the sanctity of Chima's pre-established, set-in-stone lore" that they can't stop to think maybe, JUST MAYBE, sometimes a story can get new lore which can ALSO be canon!

I'd also love to share this HILARIOUS screenshot of one of their many posts, which not only backs up what I'm saying, but it's like damn they really set themself up huh!

Gee I wonder why you feel alone! Maybe it's because you are! Maybe it's because you're lying and making shit up to prove yourself right! No one is as big of a hater as you!

The also LOVE saying Ninjago cannot do anything with Chima unless they get express permission from the creator of Chima, some guy named John Derevlany, but oh man what's this I see before me?

CO-CREATOR? Oh but Olive, I thought he was the CREATOR of Chima, not CO-creator... ALSO Lego owns the rights to Chima, and Ninjago, and every other theme, as said by Doc himself! If anything he wasn't really dodging the question, just giving a vague answer, because he doesn't know much about the old contracts!

From what he said, it's clear that if they wanted to use anything from the other themes, they'd have to consult folks over at LEGO, not John Derevlany or Tommy A.!

Now here's the THING, I GET where they're coming from, it CAN be annoying to have people only care about a thing you like in relation to something else, but when you're going out of your way to argue that none of it can be canon and it's all an alternate universe it's like... god it's so sad and pathetic really.

Their lies and BS don't even end there with the wiki shit, because I have THIS glorious gem.

A) They bring up that the Ninjago folk do not know who the Phoenixes are which is like, okay??? Why the fuck are they gonna know about how another universe was created??? That's like if someone told me I don't exist in the same universe as my glasses because I have no clue who made them, that is to say, that's stupid as FUCK to say!

B) OH they say something REAAALLL funny ohohohho I am actually dying. Olive says the Phoenix icon "appeared in a Ninjago episode" and "Ninjago tends to reuse assets." Yep, NINJAGO is the one who reused the phoenix symbol, mhm. The symbol that was made in 2011 for NINJAGO, which cameoed in CHIMA in 2014, was actually just an asset reuse by Ninjago. I feel like this actually goes to show how desparate they are to feel right and validated, because this? This a lie! Ninjago made the symbol, and because Tommy A. is co-creator to both, he wanted to slip in a neat Ninjago reference, so he slipped in the Phoenix symbol Nya uses for the Phoenix tribe, not the other way around!

Another REALLY funny thing they did, aside from the wiki and Phoenix symbol shit, was this hilarious attempt at being right!

Yes, the compared the WOLF Masks to BATman's cowl, and did a horribly rough comparison illustration that very much does not make sense. If you actually compared them side by side, the only similarities would be they're both angry animal themed mask with pointy ears, which does NOT go very far in the long run. The foreheads they drew aren't even the same fucking shape lol.

OH ANS WE CANNOT FORGET THIS ONE! Their using a post about the Palestinian genocide and boycotting Lego in order to complain about Ninjago.

They claim Ninjago is produced by Lego, unlike other Lego shows, which is an EXTREMELY bullshit fucking claim. Just like Chima and Nexo Knights, Ninjago is produced by Lego, it's not JUST Ninjago produced by Lego, they are all Canadian-Danish CGI action shows, and they're all known to have Tommy Andreasen involved in the creation of them.

They're using a post about boycotting for the sake of innocent people DYING to complain about a lego ninja show for... killing evil people? It doesn't glorify war, the worst it does in regards to war is like not address how fucked up it can be in regards to the Serpentine War, but that's like it. I think it's so funny they want to single out Ninjago as if it's the only TV series where villains die for trying to conquer/destroy the world.

So, what do I want the takeaway from this post to be? What do I want you to get from it? I don't really know anymore, I just don't want Olive's horrendously toxic behaviors, and straight up lies to stop. If anything I think it's beautiful that Ninjago is making others interested in revisiting Chima again, stop being such a fucking hater dude. They act like Chima is some holy grail of Lego, the greatest thing since bread, but it, just like Ninjago, Dreamzzz, Hidden Side, and Nexo Knights, have Tommy in creative roles.

To act like Chima is somehow greater than is to place it on an unrealistic pedestal as if it's a godsend, when in reality it was co-created by Tommy Fucking Andreasen.

If you read through all of this, I do THOROUGHLY appreciate it, I didn't mean for this post to descend into an angry ramble but ehhh yk how it is. And Olive, if you see this, please, just stop with the bullshit.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #lego ninjago dragons rising #lego chima #lego legends of chima #chima #legends of chima #callout post #long post #edited all 'she' for 'they' here !!

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sashiavi · 1 month

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this is my second time in your inbox today but i have to make it up for the time i neglected you pookie hehe

I just had a sudden thought about wrio- like😳😳😳😳 and I'm here to share it

imagine wrio tugging at his tie to allow some air on his neck with one hand as he looks at you after you provoked him, a smirk growing on his lips. I'm talking about tendons flexing so good like ajdhsjdhja I want those hands on and in me and I don't really care where 😋😋

I live for the headcanon of big beefy wrio so I'd like to suck on those mantitties for the rest of my life please and thank you. and just imagine the thickness of his shoulders and arms and legs AND OH GOD THE THIGHS IM BASICALLY DROOLING I want him to suffocate me with them while I give him that gawk gawk 3000🥰

and don't get me started on wrio with a stubble because I could go on for hours. I know that feels amazing as he gives head ajdhshdgjahdk like no babe you aren't going anywhere I only came 3 times- (he would be the one to refuse to move before 5 orgasms its canon i asked it to hoyo and joe zieja and they both confirmed)

I'm down bad. I don't even want kids but if this man came to me and says that he wants 6 I'd throw myself on the bed clothes gone legs spread pussy ready for that massive cock and I'm not even sorry

okay i feel like this is enough- bye bye pookie😚

Ughhhh pookie bearrrrr you're speaking my language </33

I am a firm believer of thickkk Wrio - I too wanna suck on his tiddies so bad oh my godd

Riding on his thick thigh? With his hands all over you- and the hANDS you're so correct his hands would be so hot

Ughhh big beefy Wrio with a little bit of a soft belly and a thick happy trail leading down disappearing into his pants 😩💕 that "clearly goes to the gym and works hArd and is sooooo strong but he eats well and looks after himself" </333 soooo good to cuddle :((

Just imagining his stamina too- and he's so givingggg ugh I can't even

The fear of pregnancy is g o n e with this man I'd let him do whatever he wanted you can put that on record babe

#SashiAvi Mail 💌#Risa's Rambles #i need him #this puts me in a writing mood too bad i have wORK IN AN HOUR >:(((((#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #wriothesley smut #sashiavi thirsts

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genopaint · 7 months

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The time has finally come, here's my team from Pokemon Emerald! These are always some of the most exciting things for me to draw lately, and this time I even got to tie their natures into the designs a little bit! Also, sheesh, these Pokemon just keep getting bigger and bigger.

As always I don't really care about canon Pokemon sizes, I think all Pokemon should be insanely massive for no reason other than the fact it looks cool. Also, Seviper actually ended the game with Soft Sand, but he actually had Black Glasses the whole game until I accidentally sold them. They're way cooler and there's already been a lot of necklaces here so I decided to give him back the shades :)

Oh and as I'm sure you can tell, the naming theme this time was Video Game Characters which was actually a lot of fun!

#Pokemon #Hoenn #Swampert #pelipper #gardevoir #seviper #aggron #flygon #fanart

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97keanu · 10 months

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Kevin Lomax x wife!reader NSFW Imagines:

Tags: VERY nsfw, canon style Kevin, mentions of breeding, mentions of corruption kink, back scratching, aggressive, primal style, aftercare described, public foreplay

If there's one thing Kevin loves about you it's not your body for how it looks(of course he loves that too), but for how much you react from even the slightest touch

You two will be out somewhere public, say an important party with his coworkers and he will be trying to turn you on all night

It starts with the looks from across the room. You'll see him there talking to someone, and you're conversing with a few other wives when you can feel his gaze burning into you, and when your eyes meet, oh god...you know that look and you know you're in for a hell of a night

Eventually, Kevin makes his way back over to you, and he begins by resting his hand on the small of your back, innocent right?

Soon enough he's playing an evil game of how low can he go before you give him that look that says "I swear to god, Kevin Lomax..." And he pulls back up

Both of you know you wouldn't actually do anything if he just grabbed your ass right here in front of everyone, but that's apart of the game.

You can feel him playing with the zipper of your dress, slightly unzipping it, so slowly, until you grab his thigh and silently tell him to stop.

After he can tell you're at your wits end, he excuses the two of you, and soon enough its you who's pulling him by his tie to the elevator to get out of here.

He has your panties off in a matter of seconds in the elevator, and he grabs them up, giving them a good sniff before grabbing you and getting his hands to where it feels good under your dress.

You're moaning out, pressed up against the elevator and thanking god you're on the 32nd floor, so much more time for Kevin to play with your soaking pussy while claiming your tongue from inside your mouth

He gives you kisses and bites anywhere skin is showing right now. He's biting your lower lip, he's sucking and kissing up your neck before sinking his teeth in.

All while his purposeful fingers play with your clit and the elevator keeps going down and down....

You can see as the floors pass, and you have to pull Kevin off you in the last few floors before the doors open up to people waiting to get in.

You have no idea if they can tell, if they can see your clothes are scrunched, your lipstick is a bit smudged and Kevin's hair is wild from where you had your claws in it.

You also don't care, you're pulling Kevin into a cab and on the way home he's discreetly rubbing the inside of your thigh getting higher and higher....

The ride can't go fast enough

By the time you're making it to your apartment, its your turn in the elevator.

You press Kevin into the wall and unzip the pants of his suit, pulling his hard cock out, and quickly getting on your knees to take him in your mouth.

Kevin loves how much he's corrupted you, his sweet and innocent wife. His gorgeous and shy wife he shows off to the party, who is now on her knees giving him the best head of his life, he can barely believe how lucky he is to have you.

You both own the top floor of the penthouse suit, so when you get off the elevator, Kevin doesn't even put his cock away, just pulls you up, kisses you and tastes himself on your lips with a satisfactory grin, getting you inside the door of the apartment.

He doesn't even wait to find a couch or a bed, as soon as that doors closed he's pulling off his suit down to nothing and you're struggling to unzip your dress before he comes to help you

The whole time he's telling you every dirty thing he's going to do to you. Ex "Darlin', I'm going to fuck you right into the floor of this apartment" or "I want the neighbors to hear you scream my name tonight, baby....can you be a good girl and do that for me?"

He loves requesting dirty stuff from you, its his way of making sure you're okay with his requests while also keeping the mood.

After he helps you slip out of the dress, he pulls it down, taking himself with it, getting right between your thighs, where he loves to be. He opens you up, pushing your back against one of the apartments walls, one of your legs resting on his shoulder, where he kisses up from your toes all the way to your pussy before diving in

He loves the taste of you, he licks you up hungrily, then looks up at you with those gorgeous dark eyes and tells you "You taste so good, baby..." Before getting back to work.

You're clutching his short dark hair like there's no tomorrow, pulling him in, in...

He loves when you take a bit of control for how you like it, he wants to make sure you're pleased before he gets to his own pleasure

Soon enough he's dipping his fingers into you, hitting that spot you like so much, and in between breaths and tongue motions, he's saying "How lucky I am to have such a gorgeous wife..." And "I know all those men at the party wanted to fuck you, but I'm the one who gets to see you like this, isn't that right baby?" And its all you can do to moan out his name and say yes, yes he is the one who gets to eat your pussy like this. The one to fuck you into oblivion later.

Soon enough, your legs are shaking, your breath is fast and you can feel yourself cumming. Kevin looks up at you and you can tell from how he is looking at you, a mixture of determination and pleading, pleading for you to cum on his face. He loves doing this to you, making you completely addicted to this feeling, and being able to lap up your juices as you spill over the edge.

As you do, your legs begin to give out, but Kevin's strong. He's so strong. He holds up your weight as your legs stop working, and your thighs clamp around his head, that feeling that he loves

He finishes you off, leaving you an out of breath mess

He pulls you to the ground, only giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before he's laying you on your back, leaning in to kiss you, equally letting you taste yourself as he glides his cock into you

You're used to him, so he doesn't take it easy on you, but god is his cock BIG. Even if you are his wife, it feels like it stretches you out and fills you completely every time. You gasp as he fully inserts himself, your nails digging into his back, and he groans from the feeling

Kevin loves mixing pleasure and pain so he tells you to scratch him harder, and you oblige, your nails leaving red welts on his back by the time you two are done

Kevin pumps himself in and out of your dripping pussy, the floor of the apartment getting slick with what isn't on his cock. He loves making a mess with you

Kevin makes sure to eat up what little breath you have with his deep kisses, and you can hardly take it.

Your body is like his toy you're so out of it, completely weak from cumming before, he moves you where he wants, grips your legs, your thighs, making you move to where he can get deeper into you

That's all he can think about, "How can I fuck her deeper, harder...?"

He works your increasingly tender pussy in long, slow, passionate bursts that are sandwiched in between the fastest fucking you have ever received, your voice is almost sore from screaming out his name, and he's egging you on, eager to hear you scream out, wanting it louder, wanting to keep good on the promise that the neighbors will hear.

Just when you think he can't get bigger inside you, you start to feel it.

His cock is reaching maximum hardness, his tip leaking precum inside you, and he's telling you how badly he wants you bred from his cum, how he's giving you that baby one way or another

He's likely mid dirty talk, looking down at you, at your face that's so innocent and perfect, your soft lips moaning out his name, when he cums, filling you up so much more than you could ever think possible. It almost hurts how full you feel from his cock so deep inside you, pushing his cum even deeper, and twitching as it goes.

He collapses into you, Kevin's breaths so ragged and raw, just like yours.

He lays his head into your neck, his breath hot and tickling you there, the two of you lay like this for a while

As soon as he has the energy, Kevin is scooping you up off the floor and holding you close, asking you how you liked it (you loved it of course, and tell him so)

He runs a hot bath for the two of you, while he waits for it to fill he sits on the edge of your giant, luxury tub and softly pets your hair, running his hand down your back as well

You bury yourself into his neck now, holding his sweaty body close to yours, trying not to move to much so he doesn't spill out from between your legs

When the tubs finished he puts the two of your in, and begins washing you up, your favorite parts being when he does your hair, your back, and your feet.

He finishes himself up while you float and relax in the steamy tub, then he pulls the two of you out and works on drying you off with the softest fluffiest towel.

When he's finished he takes you to the room where the two of you collapse into bed, exhausted from the night, curling up to each other and drifting off happily.

#kevin lomax #kevin lomax x reader #the devils advocate #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #my writing #kevin lomax x wife!reader #kevin lomax fanfic #kevin lomax imagines

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hyperfixiation-station · 2 months

Note

Hi Sun, could I please request some Alejandro whump headcanons? How does this man react to being taken care of? I love your writing 💜

CW: Sickness, Injuries, Canon-Typical Violence thank youuu anon!!! also sorry for the wait😭😅 I did ramble a bit, so sorry if it doesn't make sense or things get repeated Also I wrote this at 2 veeeery different times so sorry again😭 as always, no beta read, and feel free to ask for clarification on anything :))

My dude is man-cold kinda guy It has nothing to do with the fact that he doesn’t know how to ask for affection and you always cuddle with him when he’s sick

But only for unimportant things. A cold or a sprained ankle?

He's dying, needing you to cater to his every need

But if he's seriously sick or injured he will push himself till he passes out

You have threatened to tie him down if he does not obey his medical leave

Case in point:

He had some lung issues after pulling Rudy from the fire during the whole Hassan fiasco

He got pneumonia because he didn’t rest and exposed himself to cold, wet environments

Oh and he had fracturedbruised ribs from his time with teh Shadows

Of course he didn’t go to the doctor, and you were out of town and couldn't force him to

You walked in on him coughing so hard he couldn't breathe

Blood was splattered on the floor as the coughing aggravated his ribs which aggravated his lungs which made him cough and then it'd start all over

You watched in horror as he choked, as he tried to inhale something other than his saliva

The 12 minutes and 47 seconds it took for Rudy to get to your house were the longest of your life

He was confused when he woke up in the hospital two days later, until he saw you sitting next to his bed, your hand in his, head lolled to the side as you slept.

You gave him a reaming of a life time

"Do you not care Alejo? About yourself? About Rudy? About me? Do you not care what we would feel if you died because you're too Godsdammed stubborn to ask for help? You made this-"

"Ay Cariño, you are beautiful when you cry."

"Don't try to flirt you're way out of this Vargas, I am so worriedmad at you right now."

"I am sorry Amo-"

"Don't do this again Alejo,. I don't think I could handle walking in to find you...because you didn't take care of yourself, okay?"

He hit a wall at that point in your tirade, and you could see it

You climbed into the bed with, curled up so your head was on his chest and fell asleep, the first peaceful night you'd had since coming home and finding him

Things were different after that

It was slow going, but you could see him making an effort to tell you when things were bothering him, to not deflect his emotions and issues

You make him chicken noodle soup when he's sick

And then you'll climb in bed with him and watch Disney movies until he falls asleep

You don't kiss him when he's sick because, ew, germs

But you'll cuddle and run your fingers through his hair

Your dialogue when he's actually hurt vs. when he's exaggerating is drastically different

"Sick" days look like: "Ay, you'll feel better baby." "You're no' gonna die, it's just a sprained ankle." "Do not kiss me Alejo." "Yes baby, we can watch a movie."

Sick sick days look like: "Alejandro sit your ass down!" "Do not make me call Rudy over here." "What do you think you're doing? Alejandro!" "Alejo, baby, why won't you let me help you?"

He got sick 2 weeks after you moved in with him

Like really, actually, sick(he had the flu)

Your first clue something was wrong was when you woke before him

The man had woken up at 6:45 am on the dot your whole relationship, so you knew something was up.

The heat you could feel radiating under the covers was the second

You were fully prepared for over-dramatic, whiny, clinginess, just like he'd acted when he got the cold a couple of months ago

So you were surprised when he got out of bed and started getting ready for work

Your third clue something was up was the fact that he didn't notice you watching him lean against the door for support as he pulled his pants on

"Alejo?" He spun around to face you, honest to god swaying on his feet

"Alejo, baby, you can't go to work like that."

"Like what?" His voice had just the slightest quaver to it

You looked his flushes face, his trembling hands, the way he was leaning against the door and sighed

The only reason you even got him back to bed was because he had the day off, he had just wanted to train

It hurt a little, how he didn't ask you for anything. He didn't beg you to cuddle or hold him, in fact it didn't seem like he wanted you there at all

Not because he wasn't being loving or because you felt unwanted

But because you knew it came from a childhood of misplaced trust and neglect.

He made it clear he didn't want to be touched, but you still hesitantly placed your hand on his forehead to check his temperature

The way he pressed into your palm and the small, shuddering sigh he gave broke your heart.

In the end you had Rudy pull him from the schedule, and spent the next week curled up with him in bed

You got into a very heated argument on day 3, which ended with you in tears and him coughing so hard he can't breathe

When you stayed with him, rubbing his back even after everything, things got better

He still doesn't like being a burden, but it's a start

He didn't/doesn't like your desire to care for him, not because he didn’t want it, but because he didn't know what to do with it/doesn't understand it

He’s spent his whole life in a warzone. He’s never had the opportunity/ability to sit back and let someone take care of him.

It wasn't that people didn't love him as a child, but in-between the drug-trades, gang fights, the cartels push for power and the subsequent war launched by the government, the struggle to survive outweighed any of his problems.

"Alejandro, we can't afford a doctors visit right now, you'll just have to drink some water." "Ay mijo, you have to be more careful, I can't afford the hospital bill to fix your arm, we'll just have to wrap it up at home." "Alejandro I already told you, we can't make it to the ceremony." "I can't, we can't, you can't..."

He’s used to patching himself up, used to people not having time or resources to care when he’s injured. It why he over plays the little things, because he didn't worry anyone when or take up precious time when his ailments could be fixed with a band-aid

His family was too busy making sure they survived to give him the attention a child required. It's why him and Rudy are such good friends.

They spent more time with each other than with their own flesh and blood.

My man does not like being open, and Valeria's betray

He deflects, much in the same way he did as a kid, by overplaying the little things so no one notices the big things.

For the longest time you had to have Rudy text you when Alejandro got injured, because he wouldn't tell you

Anyways hope you enjoyed my rambling!! I tried out a new format so lmk how you like it! Oh and reqs are open :3

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gingerlurk · 4 months

Text

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 11: The Question

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You ask Din a question that changes everything.

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), post season 3, SMUT, here we go, fingering, unprotected PiV (be safe), creampie, multiple orgasms, soft & tender.

A few days have passed and you’ve worked yourself into a state. You just couldn’t stop the wondering.

You were bound to be curious, right? He would have said something if it was not an okay thing to do. That was his way.

After pacing a couple of times with wringing hands and a racing heart, you decide that just asking the question is innocent enough. You press an only slightly shaking hand to your side, where the plaster seal holds your wound and the man’s bare hands had stroked you so carefully.

It’s just an innocent question.

So you check the kid is still sleeping, for no other reason than he was really tuckered out from the day, and approach the back of Din’s form as he moves the fresh supplies about the cabin.

He doesn’t seem to notice you, so you clear your throat. His helmet turns.

‘Um.’ You shift your feet.

‘I think we were a bit zealous with the fruit,’ he says. Pushing two overloaded bags into a rack, they barely fit. ‘Not sure we will get through it all.’

‘Oh,’ you give a nervous giggle. Giggle? What the fuck is wrong with you? ‘I’m sure kiddo will have no trouble devouring it all.’

‘Mm.’ He continues shoving the bags into place. You watch his able hands draw a loop of webbing through the rack and tie a deft knot.

Hands… Hands! His hands. You give yourself a mental slap and step up. ‘Din?’

‘Mm?’

‘Can I ask you a question?’ He must hear something in your voice because he turns and faces you square on. His broad frame glimmers in the dim light floating in from outside and you can tell by the tilt of his helmet that you have his full attention. Gods, he can make you feel so fucking exposed.

‘When I came to…’ You stop, huff a breath and go again. ‘After the treasury and the-- and the carbon freeze…’ You rub clammy palms on your thighs, pushing the memory of the burning chill away. ‘When I woke up, you, you were—’ Gods, fuck, just fucking ask him!

He hasn’t moved or gestured for you to go on. You think he might be holding his breath.

‘You were treating my injuries and,’ you stare down at his hands, held stiffly at his sides, ‘I don’t think you had your gauntlets on.’ You say it in a rush and look up a little further to his forearms. ‘Or your vambraces.’

The items in question are reflecting the sun into the hold, the light having shifted lower as you dithered around your point. You lose focus for a moment.

‘That’s true,’ Din whispers into the silence. You almost miss it. ‘The stitcher gauge is very fine. I had to be precise or I could have overdone it and burned you. So, I thought a direct hand best.’

‘Ohh, oh- okay. Th-thanks for that.’ Thanks for that? Unhinged.

‘And,’ you push on. Your eyes dart lower for a second then back up to Din’s motionless visage. ‘I don’t think you had your cuisse on either. Your-- your thigh armour.’ You make a weak gesture to his lower body then lock your arms across your front, willing your heart to get out of your throat and back into your chest. ‘When I, uh,’ you stare up at the ceiling, ‘when I grabbed hold of you – because of the pain, I mean – I didn’t feel it there.’ You should just die right now.

‘In order to reset your shoulder,’ he says, ‘I had to lean my knee into your hip. I did not want the beskar to cause any more harm.’ Is his voice raspier than usual? Even deeper, somehow?

‘Right. You did a great job.’ You release your arms and swing the shoulder in question back and forth a couple of times. ‘Feels good.’ Are you out of your mind?

‘That’s good.’

Silence.

‘You had a question?’

‘Yes! Yes I did. Uh…’ You swallow the driest mouth you’ve ever had. ‘So my question being, it didn’t seem to concern you when I came to. Like, you weren’t worried having pieces of your armour off in my presence. I thought, you know, with the creed and all…’ Just get this over with and you can go sprint into the forest and throw up. But then he takes a step toward you and gives a long exhale. The sound makes your body flush all over. Without your volition, your thoughts and nerves rush to your core – igniting a pulsing need.

‘That is still not a question, but yes. It did not worry me.’ His voice has reached a gravelly tone that you let wash over you, finding the calm amid the sonic velvet. ‘My armour is a part of my religion and I hold it as sacrosanct.’ He touches a hand to his cuirass. ‘But the Creed speaks of only the helmet being removed and my face being seen. It does not forbid removing my armour in the presence of another, though I would only do so when needs are an absolute must.’

He drops his hand to his side. ‘Or when I am with one that I trust.’

Holy shit. Heart is climbing up your throat and into your mouth. You lick your lips.

‘Okay, so, here’s my question,’ you clench your fist once then reach out and take hold of his hand. You lift it up and with your other hand ghost your fingers over his. You have an urgent thought, look up at him. ‘To be clear, I’d never ask you to take off your helmet.’

‘I know.’

‘Ever,’ a hard shake of your head.

‘I know.’

‘But, can I take off this glove?’ You stare directly into the dark T of his visor. He leans to you.

‘You can.’

Molten, burning desire coils in your belly. A graphic mental image of stripping him bare and climbing him like a tree flashes white hot in your mind. The things you want to do to him, and let him do to you. Thought upon thought tumbles through you. This hand you’re holding touching you all over, finding your aching need, pulling your juices from you in an endless stream. These huge fingers—

‘Start here,’ he says gently, and you realise you’ve been stood stock still staring at his hand in yours. He lifts his other hand to the edge of the vambrace by his wrist and releases a catch. The metal of the two armour pieces, warmed by him, come away with a clunk. He drops them onto the bench beside you. Then waits.

You grip two of his gloved fingers and draw the garment toward you. You blink back the moisture gathering at your eyes so you can take in the sight of millimetre on millimetre of skin being revealed to you. When the glove has dropped to the floor, you push your fingers into his to entwine them. He spreads his own and lets your digits link. Gods, but they feel so soft between your calloused ones. With your other hand, you circle his wrist and start to push up the long sleeve up his forearm, greedy to see more, touch more. But he flinches.

‘Sorry! I’m sorry,’ you make to draw back but he tightens your joined fingers together to hold you still.

‘No,’ he whispers. ‘It is not you. I’m just, I have not felt– for a long time…’

Of course, you think. This is the most touch-starved man in the galaxy.

Lick your lips again, bite down on the corner of your mouth. Look up to him.

‘Okay,’ you say. ‘Why don’t you lead? Just, you can touch me instead for a little while? If you like?’

‘I would like that.’ It’s nothing but a low rumble to your ears.

He unclasps the armour from his other arm and tugs the glove off. It gets tossed to the side, almost carelessly, then both hands reach for you. You decide to stay still, not spook the wild creature in front of you. You make another choice and let your eyes fall closed.

You’re so glad to be wearing only a singlet when each hand moves to your wrists and slowly, gods so slowly and tenderly, start to skim up, up. Fingers caress your outer forearms as each thumb presses a little into the soft, paler flesh heading toward your inner elbows. There, he circles each arm, holding them in a grip that has you spinning again into fantasies of things to come. You hope.

This is where you become aware of Din’s breathing. You open your eyes and see his chest rising and falling in bursts. Fast, harsh gasps hit the modulator of his helmet.

‘Din,’ you whisper, not moving a muscle. ‘It’s okay. It’s me. Breathe.’

He gives you a nearly imperceptible nod and takes a moment to fill his lungs a few times. When he’s ready, his right hand moves from your elbow, up to your shoulder and splays there across your upper chest. His thumb rests at the base of your throat but you barely notice its experimental nudge there as his fingers curl under the strap of your top and rest underneath it. His whole hand is pressed flush against your skin.

It’s so fucking reverent you want to cry.

Then he pushes the fabric off your shoulder and down your arm, mirroring the action on your other side until your shoulders and decolletage are bare. Another long, agonising pause as he holds you there makes you feel like you’re going to astral project with tension. Your eyes look up to lock on the visage facing you – then all at once it snaps between you.

He grips your arms tight and pulls you into his chest. The hard, plated beskar seers your skin as you lift onto your toes toward him. Gripping onto his elbows over his clothed sleeves to stay steady, you nuzzle into the arched curve of his helmet, pressing your nose to where you imagine his cheek could be.

He moves, walking you backwards into the cabin.

When your calves back into the bed, Din brings his hands to the hem of your top. You raise your arms and drop to the mattress in one motion. The fabric rustles up and off for Din to toss to the side. Chest bare, you lean back to let him look at you.

The black sights of the visor stay steady on your body as he stands over you. But his hands start to move on himself. To his shoulders, his chest – clasps and buckles are released and one item after another is drawn away.

It’s like watching a God work at himself.

You rise from your elbows to your palms when he tucks his hands under his midriff and starts to rip at fasteners, tugging the top half of his flight suit loose. Huh, you think, you didn’t know it could be a two-piece.

And then all thought stops. The outfit opens down the middle and you stare as, oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, he drags it out and off his shoulders. Letting it thump to the floor.

As you expected, he’s broad and hard. The muscles carry the easy definition of a fighter like himself, powerful but swift. They twitch and flex as your hungry eyes roam everywhere. Soft hair dusts his chest and funnels into an inviting trail down over his stomach and into his pants. What really captures your attention is the taut, pulsing veins highlighting his neck and collarbones, tensing beneath your gaze.

You take in each other for a beat. Then he seems to read your mind and drops to his knees between your legs. You sit up as he leans forward and gently, slowly, with hands moving to arms and with small reassuring nods from Din, the two of you come to be pressed together. Chest to naked chest. You rest each hand on his generous shoulders. His arms circle to your back and he tilts his helmet to rest over your shoulder, the delicate skin of his neck pressing there. So achingly tender.

Wait here. Wait for him to move.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, he does. Hands move to your front, sliding across your ribs and barely hesitating before cupping your breasts. He gives an experimental squeeze and teases at your peaked buds. You fall onto your back to give him full access.

His fingers find your lips. You suck them in and let your saliva coat as much as you’re able. Satisfied, he moves them back to your tits, letting the slick slide back and forth over your nipples. He’s brushing, pinching and squeezing with a pattern and pace that is so intuitive to your arousal you’re now sure he’s inside your head.

You’re pushing your chest into his ministrations, feeling every single tug and twitch shoot a jolt of pure pleasure to your pussy. It’s soaking your clothed thighs more and more but doing exactly zero to slake your cravings. You squirm and cry out, pawing aimlessly at chest, arms, helmed face.

‘Fuuhhhh,’ you pant. ‘Fuck, Din!’

At that he presses his face to your chest and draws it down your body, hard and cold forehead dragging over the skin between your tits and down your belly. His helm presses firmly on the belt at your pants, as if in protest, and you shudder with every inch of muscle as he continues down. He lays his forehead to rest directly against your clothed throbbing cunt.

You think you’ve gone insane when you swear you hear him inhale there. Can he smell through that thing? Shut up.

With his helmet pressed there, breathing in and out heavily, he whispers, ‘Mesh’la.’

You can’t help yourself. You thrust your hips up, a white-hot pulse reverberates in your cunt and you keen. It feels profane.

But he freezes.

Your eyes shoot open and you look down, a tinny shred of fear licking at your arousal.

You’ve ruined everything.

He moves away from your centre. No… you whine.

But he leans up, climbing onto the bed beside you, nudging you further up the mattress and settling at your side. He’s gazing at you and you’re not sure where his eyes are focused. It just feels like everywhere. His hands, which moved from your chest in his descent down you, now roam, uncertain.

He speaks.

‘What—’ an exhale. ‘What would you like me to do? Tell me.’

You shiver at the sound of his delicious voice. Working hard to compose yourself enough to speak, you say, ‘Just, just keep going with your hands? Whatever you want to do. Whatever you want. Just please don’t stop.’

A hand grips at the buckle of your pants; your legs tremble. ‘This?’

‘Fuck, please.’

It is quick work. You hike your hips and raise a hand to assist the worn material in sliding down your legs. You hadn’t gripped its waistband yourself, but Din has your underwear as well as your pants hooked in his fingers and they both shift down and off.

Now you’re naked and the bare hand of the Mandalorian is dragging a slow, punishing course up your entire leg. Little skitters of pleasure race ahead, gathering and creating a crescendo of sensation to release tides of wet bliss.

You think you may die as his fingertips trace a path to where you need them. Please touch me. You make a silent prayer. Touch, touch, touch.

It feels like he’s within you already. Without pausing, the index and middle fingers push in and up, separating the soaking folds around your entrance. He doesn’t even pause there, sensing your momentum, and pushes them right into the hot, clenching flesh.

The ecstatic moan that pushes up from your chest is nearly drowned out by a ragged groan from Din. You both writhe together as he works his two fingers in, draws back and circles, then pushes back in, settling into a pumping action that curls up, up.

‘How much I have wanted this, mesh’la,’ he sighs. ‘You would have no idea.’

Oh, you have some idea. ‘I—' That’s as far as you get. The pad of his thumb finds your clit.

After all the anticipation, all the yearning, all the tender build up – it’s all you need. The orgasm that rushes toward you is a wave that crests in your belly and breaks into every part of you, rising to the very crown of your head where you’ve thrown it back with mouth open in an O of ecstasy.

You open your eyes to see Din watching your face, fingers still seated inside you, and he’s murmuring, ‘That’s good, that’s so good. Fuck, so beautiful. So gorgeous. Can I do that again? Gods please, let me do that again…’

You wiggle your hips some and hiss at the intensity flickering across your whole pussy. His hand flexes there but doesn’t resume stimulating yet, waiting for you. You sense a pressure on your thigh and wonder how in the stars you hadn’t noticed his bulging erection before now, pushing as it is into your shivering flesh. You reach a hand, pausing at his sharp inhale.

You rest your palm on your leg, just by where he’s pressed into you.

‘Yes, Din,’ you say, hoping in all the worlds that you’re making eye contact with him. ‘Yes, you can, over and over, as much as you want. For- for as long as you want. And… can I?’ You glance down, then back up.

He presses the top of his helm into your forehead and you’re awash in his ragged breathing and tiny groans. As he begins to move inside you again, adding a third finger and immediately setting a renewed fire that will not take long to blaze, you feel him nod against your face.

It’s only a little fiddly as you reach around the arm working at you to open up more of his flight suit. It would be easier if he pulled his hand away for a moment, but you don’t think that’s up for negotiation, so you just push and tug until – oh, oh gods, oh fuck – his smooth, gorgeously hard cock is pressing into your skin.

You take him in hand and revel at the weight and thickness of him. You greedily explore his entire length, circling fingers over the head, wrapping your palm around him and moving down, running knuckles through the coarse hair there, and back up. You drink in every little strangled moan he gives you, senses flooded, skin sizzling with desire.

He shifts, slipping his other hand under your neck to pull you closer. You move a little to your side so you’re facing him more, and you jerk each other off. You press your lips into the cool metal of his helmet and he lets you.

He’s figured out that a thumb rubbing at your clit is going to end you the fastest, so he focuses there. But the hand cradling your head also finds a spot just behind your ear and strokes there unconsciously. That’s what really undoes you again. You cry out into the unyielding curve of beskar, and hear him muttering again, ‘yes, y-- s- so perfect, so fucking perfect…’

You lose rhythm stroking him, but he seems to be enjoying it anyway, hips jutting up into your hand and legs locking with yours to find purchase. Groaning, you drop your face to his neck and collarbone and mouth hungrily there, resetting your pace again as you feel his body start to tense. His breathing becomes short and ragged and you can feel his head pressing hard into the bed just above you.

‘F-, uh, Fuuuh, please, please,’ he’s begging you, losing his damn mind. ‘I’m going to- going to- do you want me to—’

‘Let go, Din,’ you moan into his skin. ‘Let me make you cum.’

Your side and stomach are suddenly slippery as he spills on you like a shot. You let him rut there into the hot mess you’ve made of him, taking the last as he stills. In the midst of his shuddering release, his hand still locked on your cunt creates enough friction for a third shimmering climax to wash through you and you writhe into his palm.

Never in your life had you felt so sated.

A distressed ‘ Ehhe! ’ pierces the bliss you’d lost yourselves in. A gentler, ‘buub,’ follows. You each disentangle and sit up, listening.

‘The kid!’ Din says, starting to pull at his pants and move to stand, but you reach for him in slight panic. You can’t handle the thought of seeing him cover up, close in again, just yet.

‘No, no, it’s okay. I’ll go,’ you say, laying a hand on Din’s shoulder and guiding him back down. ‘Please, please just, stay like this. I haven’t… haven’t had enough of this just yet. Okay?’

He hesitates, but stops trying to tuck himself away. You glance down and see he’s still half hard. Maybe… you think.

‘Besides,’ you say with a wink. ‘I can get dressed faster.’

Thank all the worlds, he relents, relaxes his hands and watches you stand to pick your clothing off the floor. You give him one final look and duck out to check on the child.

Just a few minutes later, you slip back into the cabin and your heart bursts.

Din is fucking naked.

While you’d been out he’d shucked off the rest of his flight suit and boots and now lay in the centre of the bed, one arm raised behind his helmet and the other over his middle, self-consciously stroking at his taut abdomen.

You gape for a moment, willing yourself to speak.

‘He was just thirsty,’ you croak out, raking your eyes up and down his body. His legs. His fucking thighs. ‘Out like a light again.’

Din doesn’t say anything, just reaches a hand for you. You check his cock, still half hard, resting against his belly. Gonna change that first, you think.

You grip the hem of your singlet and, as leisurely as you’re able, draw it up yourself, revealing just an inch of skin at a time. Din’s head rises slightly as he watches. You pause just as you’re about to bare your breasts again, do another check, getting there.

In the time it takes to tip your head back and draw the garment over you to drop it back to the floor, Din has raised up onto his elbows and he’s rock hard and twitching.

Okay, no more time wasting. You move into action, unbuckling and shoving your pants down your legs as you climb onto the foot of the bed, crawling to him. He leans forward and takes your upper arms into his hands to yank you all the way up. Your nose bumps his helmet again as you straddle his hips.

Hands come up to grip either side of your face, fingers caressing that area by your ears you apparently love and thumbs nudging at the edges of your mouth. You part your lips and let him work them in, licking and sucking at every point of contact. They taste of leather and salt and you.

You’re holding your naked cunt directly above his groin and you let it sink down so it rubs against his shaft. Slippery and so, so smooth. He moans. He pushes into you for a moment but then stills, huffing hard short breaths.

‘L- love,’ he pants, looking down between you. ‘I have to help you- ready- first--’

‘I’m ready,’ you whimper, near losing your mind at the endearment. ‘Gods, I am. I’m ready. Are you?’

His thumbs leave your mouth and he nudges your face so you focus on the visor right in front of you. He tilts his hips just so, so that the head of his cock slips perfectly to sit at your entrance. You can feel how slick you are, feel how much your body wants this gorgeous, throbbing cock to take you apart.

‘Yes,’ he rasps. ‘I want you so m- hhn!’

You take him in one long luscious sinking of your hips, not stopping until your seated flush against him. The burn feels good, the pressure at your cervix talking to your body and promising imminent bliss.

You look down at Din, he is silent but you can see the veins on his neck straining and the hollow of his throat dipping and peaking. He’s still holding your head, and as he shifts his hands you expect them to come to handle your hips. But he traces your neck and shoulders, bringing them instead to your tits, cupping them and thumbing your nipples.

He holds the rest of his body still, waiting for you, letting you choose the pace. You decide to make it long and languid to start. Settling your knees on the bed and hands braced by his shoulders, you draw yourself back up, slow and delicious. Let yourself feel every millimetre until his head is cresting at your entrance again before sliding back down.

That finally elicits a desperate, shaky groan from behind the helmet. An unintelligible string of ‘s’good, ahh- ama--, fuuhh—’ tumbles forth. You do it again, and a third time, feeling yourself covering his cock in your juices, slicker and hotter each time.

On a downward thrust you collapse into his chest, holding his sides and moaning, ‘Gods, god- You- you were made for me, Din.’ You keep him deep inside you, the pressure of his pelvis on your clit connected by a razor of pleasure to the pressure of his tip at your cervix. The sensation of being split wide open causes sparks to careen around your core.

Groaning and panting into your ear as you work yourself on him, Din braces his feet and pushes his hips up, giving you just the angle you need to reach for the peak and tumble over it. You shudder and gush around him, latching lips onto a muscled bicep and moaning into his skin.

At that he does move to grip your hips. He brings his knees higher and holds you tight. You release your mouth long enough to utter a string of begging nonsense, telling him to take you hard. And he does, he fucks up into you with wild fervour, slamming your spent hips down onto his cock. There’s nothing between your bodies but sweat and your release as he loses himself in you. You regain enough strength to set your knees and move to meet each of his thrilling thrusts.

You start to wonder how much longer he’ll last when his hold changes from pulling himself in to pushing you away. You’re confused at first but then he bursts out, ‘Gonna c--, uh, fuh, huh—’

He’s trying to pull out, so you whisper, ‘Cum, Din. Let me feel it, now, pl—! ’

A guttural ‘uhhnhh’ fills the air as he spends himself into you. His hands, the fingers of one locked to the small of your back and the others digging into your ass, could puncture you to burst. Heat and electricity already crackle across your body but the warmth of his seed turns you to cinders.

Your mingled pants and gasps settle the inferno you’d created together as the walls of the cabin reform, bringing you back into reality.

‘Wow,’ you breathe. ‘That was…’

Din moves a hand to the side of your head and carries it up to be level with his, bumping your foreheads together. He sighs, long and hard, ‘It was.’

‘Yeah,’ you agree.

Even though there’s a pinch tugging at your hips, spread wide over his, you don’t feel a want to move at all. He seems to feel the same, his relaxing cock staying seated inside you. You let yourself imagine you’re one and the same, connected and bound, melted and merged.

Through your glowing haze, you feel a thump thump thump against your chest. Not your heart. His. It’s hammering.

‘You okay?’ you ask, trying to study that T visor like it has the answers to existence.

He presses his head back. You picture his eyes screwed shut and his teeth clenched, trying to will himself to calm. No clue what he looks like but it still feels vivid and real to you.

‘Yes, I am,’ he rasps. Gods, you can finally revel in the gorgeousness of that voice. ‘I am okay, I swear.’

‘Um, good?’ you say when he pauses there but doesn’t relax.

‘Yes, just,’ he murmurs, moving hands back to where they were right before you’d penetrated yourself on him – either side of your head and his thumbs seeking entrance to your mouth. You oblige and kiss and nip and lick at them with hunger.

He stares, ‘Gods, you’re so fucking beautiful.’ He moves a palm across your mouth and you lave into that too, pouring your lust into consuming whatever he can give you.

Though you’re not too lost in the feeling of making out with his hand that you don’t notice the return of pressure on your pelvic walls. No way, you think.

You push yourself up, give a lazy tilt of your hips to circle there. The feeling of him swelling inside you is absolutely intoxicating. You circle again and grin down at him.

He sits up and pulls you close, closer, starts to gently move your bodies together. It’s not long before momentum takes hold. You rock into each other as hands explore and caress everything in reach. His card through your hair, grip the back of your neck, wrap around your waist and run up and down your thighs. Yours draw nails across broad shoulders and chest, cradle his helmet, trace the lines of his abdomen and clutch his arms for purchase.

He’s mumbling something but it’s incoherent and you’re just chanting his name, minds gone.

You reach for your fifth, telling him you’re close, so close… Gods, Din.

‘It’s yours, mesh’la,’ he grits. ‘Let it be yours-- it's all yours.’

‘Fuh-- huh!’ Sound sticks in your throat. He murmurs quiet affirmations and praise as you’re awash in bliss. Just as the exquisite feeling ebbs, Din rolls you both over to fuck you down into the bed before going rigid. He sighs through it, then stills.

You can’t physically hold your hips open anymore so you nudge and stroke at him until he moves off. He pulls you to his side and wraps you in an embrace. You tuck in, stroke and caress neck and chest and bicep.

After a very generous stretch of lounging into him, you excuse yourself to the fresher to clean up a little. Just a little though, the slippery feeling of his release twice over too delicious to not hold onto a little more. When you return to the bed, he has a similar thing on his mind.

‘Cyar’ika,’ he starts. Pauses. Sighs and goes on. ‘I am not sure how to ask this, but…’

You stop him, curl back into his side and play a hand coyly over the gorgeous planes of his body.

‘Got the implants years ago,’ you say, just above a whisper.

‘Oh, okay,’ he says, skimming his knuckles up and down your side.

‘Yeah,’ you blurt. ‘Nobody wanted precious heiress knocked up before her time…’

Why’d you say that? You want to push that all away as quickly as you can, so you climb onto him again, finding him ready and willing beneath you.

This is where Din wants to live for the rest of his days. Laying on his back, arms looped around you and your head nestled against his chest. Your hand rests over his heart and you are gently pushing a thumb back and forth. It’s heaven.

But something still hangs in the air between you. The two of you had pushed through much of the veils of doubts and fears you’d been stringing up since meeting, trying to protect yourselves from the intensity of this feeling. Even the last few days, after everything, you’d been dancing around each other, waiting for the right time, the right way…

Now that you were pressed skin to skin, all he wants is to let you in.

‘I am… so sorry, mesh’la,’ he says. You tip your head up to him with a curious mm ? ‘For before.’ You lower your gaze again. Okay, still some distance needed for this. But you nestle a little closer, tucking your face into his neck. Keep going…

‘For how I acted, how I treated you. The things I said, I should have known better. Understood… But I was…’ A heavy sigh, just say it. ‘I was afraid. I thought I was losing…’

The words won’t come, so he settles for rubbing your arm instead.

A long, quiet moment stretches out between you. You make small motions against each other, a caress, a squeeze. You talk each other through the things you cannot say.

‘I’m sorry too,’ you finally say. He wishes you didn’t feel the need; it was all his fault. ‘Guess I was afraid too… I was just starting to feel… at home, out here. Having a past I’ve tried to get away from collide with the present I’ve been wanting so badly to… to hold onto. I just--’

He moves a hand to stroke at your hair.

Your next words are whisper quiet. He’s so glad his helmet sensors are still dialled up or he wouldn’t have caught it, ‘Been so long since I felt any sense of home.’

His response is possibly way too much, way too soon, but it feels so right he just lets himself say it. ‘You’ll have a home here. Always.’

Back to silent communication for a moment, letting touch do the telling.

Then you laugh lightly and the tension eases some. ‘You realise that means you can’t go anywhere, right?’

As if he’s ever going anywhere else, but he asks anyway, ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’d be stranded!’ You finally lift your head to look at him, eyes twinkling. ‘No point being on the best ship in the verse if I can’t go anywhere.’

There’s so much to process in that sentence, he focuses on the simplest. ‘You can’t… you don’t know how to pilot?’

You shrug, ‘Never did have a chance to learn.’

He sits up a little, leans away so he can see you more. ‘You could pull the Crest apart and put it back together in a day, but you can’t fly it?’

‘Do pilot and mechanic mean the same thing to you?’ you ask, smiling wider.

‘Well, no. But I thought… given everything else…’

You keep looking at him, eyes flicking across the motionless mask as if you’re reading every thought in his head. Slowly, the look shifts from one of amusement to something deeper – softer and hungrier.

He doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say, so he settles for the next best thing. ‘Want me to show you?’

You grin, flop your head back onto his chest and hold him tight. ‘More than anything.’

Yeah, this is where Din wants to live for the rest of his days.

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#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you

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bg-brainrot · 5 months

Text

Prompt: Ornaments

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: Winter continues to be Astarion’s least favorite season, but when you give him the chance to show off his nimble fingers, he can’t possibly refuse. Time for some arts and crafts!

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, post-canon, comfort, astarion is a crafter

Word count: ~1.1k

“Astarion, could you come here a moment?”

The vampire in question stops in his tracks, turning to look at you. You’re currently hunched over a desk littered with all manner of materials– various strings, glass beads, sequins, pieces of wood, cloth, and so much more.

Taking in the situation as he walks over, he asks, “Darling, are you crafting a diabolical poison? Or perhaps a seasonal explosive?”

You laugh, halfway through tying a string, and gesture him over with your head. “Nothing so deadly, I’m afraid. Could you put your finger here so I can tie this?”

Like the supportive partner he is, he places his finger in position before continuing to press. “So what exactly are you doing, love?”

“Making ornaments,” you say, as you finish tying together a tree made with green beads. You hold it up for him a second later. “See? Do you like it?”

The look on his face doesn’t give away much, but you can sense the emotions underneath at war with each other. “It’s…”

“Don’t finish that,” you say, holding up a hand. “It’s my first attempt, so it will only get better.”

Astarion crouches in front of the desk across from you, folding his arms over the edge. “I was only going to say that it’s quite twee. Though it may be missing a little something.”

“Oh?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him. “What do you suppose is missing?” You spin the tree a few times to get a better look at it before he holds out his hand to you. After a second of deliberation, you place it into his awaiting palm. “Don’t break it, I lied about getting better. This is probably my best work.”

He smirks at you. “I know, dear. But that’s why I’m here to help.”

“What are you going to do to it?”

Tilting his head as he looks through your various materials, he simply gives a soft hmm. His long fingers sift through a variety of silver strings, pushing them aside for a delicate, metallic silver. He spends another few seconds searching through the beads while you watch and he comes away with a few glimmering, silver beads that look like stars. “I think,” he finally says. “It could use a bit of dressing up, don’t you?”

You nod at him with a smile, getting out of your chair. “Alright, love. Let’s see your nimble fingers at work.”

At that, Astarion gives you a suggestive little look, but he moves around the desk and sits down all the same. “Watch the expert, darling,” he says, his tone entirely too seductive for the task at hand.

But watch you will. After giving him a kiss atop his head, you settle in. At first you stand behind him, watching him weave the thread through the beads in a regular spacing, tying off after each one. Then you lean a bit forward, resting your arms on the back of his chair, as you watch him begin to sew the beaded thread into the tree, his fingers working in a way that manages to somehow be both elegant and swift. By the time you’re watching him tie off the additions, your arms are draped around his shoulders, melted by the easy way he fell into the rhythm of his work.

“There,” he says, holding the finished tree to your eye level. Then, tilting his head back toward you, he asks you the same question you asked him, “Do you like it?”

You want to be a little snarky, give him the same blank stare he gave you, but you know it’s pointless– the glee on your face is already unmistakable.

While you were proud of your work before, Astarion wasn’t far off the mark when he called it twee. Now that he’s had a turn with it, it looks like a piece of art. The silver stars and string drape across the green beads like delicate garlands, twisting up the tree to culminate in a crown of stars on its top.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, hugging Astarion through the chair. “Your talent is a thing of wonders, love.”

Astarion tries to appear nonchalant about your praise, lifting his chin up and looking at you with a smirk. But something about the look in your eyes proves to be too much and he turns back around, clears his throat, and says, “Thank you, my dear.”

“I mean it!” you say, misinterpreting his sudden shift for disbelief. Using a finger to turn his head back towards yours, you see the truth of it when his wide eyes meet yours. He’s bashful– in fact, you think if he wasn’t a vampire, he might be blushing under the heat of your praise.

“I believe you,” he says in a soft voice. Then his voice picks up strength and he adds with a smile, “I didn’t realize that such an insignificant little thing would be worthy of so much praise.”

You move around the chair to face him and shift the hand that was holding his chin to cup his cheek. Staring down your ridiculous, brilliant lover, you impress upon him the truth you know he needs to hear, “There’s nothing made by your hands that is too small to be worthy of praise. And it’s significant to me. Understood?”

He nods into your hand and presses a kiss to your palm. Then he heaves a great sigh. “Ugh, why must you try to infect me with these absurd holiday emotions? I was perfectly content just milling about, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” you say, removing yourself from his face and going to pull up another chair. “And now that I know you’re willing to help–” you raise a hand when he begins to open his mouth in objection. “Only to the extent you feel like, of course. I think it would be nice to make some ornaments together.” You place the chair next to him and scoot in, looking at him expectantly.

Astarion purses his lips at you, as if he’s trying to figure out if he’s fallen into a trap he hadn’t realized you’d laid. After deciding it doesn’t matter, he replies, “How could I say no?”

You spend the rest of the evening together, crafting a variety of ornaments. Some are seasonal: A snowflake, a ribbon, a candy. Some that are more for the two of you: A dagger, a skull, a snake. Once the night is over and you’re both cleaning up, Astarion looks up at you, a wry smile playing on his lips. “You may have tricked me into helping, but I did quite enjoy myself.”

With all of the innocence of a trained liar, you simply blink at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m glad you had fun.”

#astarion #astarion x tav #rogue + rogue #fanfic #astarion x reader #bg3holidayfluffle23

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v4mpirezz · 4 months

Note

For the request can I please have yandere Tennant taking care of sick unwilling fem reader? You can choose either one shot or head canon (depending how you feel comfortable)

𝒜 𝒹𝒶𝓎 ℴ𝒻 𝓈𝒾𝒸𝓀𝓃ℯ𝓈𝓈

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ .. Hello! I am deeply sorry for the rather long wait! Recently I’ve been a bit unmotivated I will admit, but I hope this is to your liking! I chose the opportunity to also show a much darker side of the relationship, I feel like I haven’t on my previous fics, (like show the mental impacts it has caused reader, ect) so this will be a bit angsty.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ! .. Yandere themes, mentions of mental breakdowns, being locked in a room, angsty

-`꒰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ sʜᴀᴍᴇ, ɪᴛ sᴇᴇᴍs ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴄᴋ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ. ғᴇᴀʀ ɴᴏᴛ! ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ, ᴛᴇɴɴᴀɴᴛ; ɪs ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇғᴜsᴇ .ᐟ ꒱´-

“Sick, my lady?” You heard a voice speak all of the sudden. Looking up bedsides you was the woman who captured you just a few months ago; leaning against the door with a smile on her face.

It would be a complete lie if you said you didn’t want to wipe that stupid smile of hers off of her face, seeing her only made your blood boil as she slowly walked towards you, sitting on the edge of the bed right besides where you sat.

With a glare you spoke, “Get out, I don’t need you here! Why don’t you go back to what you were doing and fool other women and steal from their wallets’. It’s the only thing you seem to be good at doin—” a hand harshly took your face and made you lean closer to her own.

Her previous smile was all gone (Ah, it seems you did indeed wipe that smile off of her face after all teehee) and was replaced with a cold stare, it was a warning that you were on thin ice, proceed and you’ll go through a harsh punishment.

“After treating you so well, made you my first damn priority, bought you those lovely clothes and jewelry, allowed you to walk around the house freely.. and your repayment is this? Do you want me to tie you down this very same bed like I did in the start? Because I will, darling, oh I will. I treat you like a princess because you are one to me, but that does not mean you have the privilege to be disrespecting me in such a way. I am not afraid to show you your damn place.”

You froze and looked at her with a mix of fear and hatred. She smiled again, however it was threatening this time; “Behave like the good girl you are, and you won’t face punishment. That is all I ask from you, it isn’t difficult my love.”

She let go of your face and stood up, “Now, it’s pretty cold in here, and you are sick! Would you like another blanket my love? I have a cozy one i’m sure you’ll like.”

You didn’t even have the chance to decline the offer or say no, she was already heading towards the closet and pulled out a soft, thick, blanket. She made her way back towards you and covered you with it along with the bedsheets. As much as you wanted to deny it, it did feel nice and warm now. You built enough courage to look up at her.

This time she was looking at you with love.. although in reality.. you knew it was obsession in her eyes. There wasn’t exactly love, she was simply obsessed with you, she saw you as her pet in a way. One she could treat however she wanted, do whatever she wanted, she didn’t treat you like a human being. So many things she took away from you. Your freedom, your life as a whole.

Many times you’ve complained, cried, even begged her to let you go. You miss your friends, your family, your freedom. But all she does is give you a stern look and tell you that you don’t need them. You have her! You don’t need to go outside when you can stay in this lovely home she provided for the both of you.

Arguing with her was pointless, at the end you never win anyway.

“Oh don’t give me that face my love. You look like a sad dog with that long face. Is it because of the sickness? Don’t worry I’ll make you feel better.” Tennant said.

She knew well that wasn’t the reason you were upset. She was anything but stupid; however she looks past the big picture, she always does on purpose.

“How about I make you some chicken soup hmm?” You only nodded. It was clear Tennant was displeased with the lack of interaction but simply brushed it off and left.

An hour passed, you just sat there looking at the locked window. The window you once tried to escape through, obviously, your mission was unsuccessful.

It was one of the many attempts you’ve made, and on each one of them you’d get caught, and they all ended the same; punishment.

It was never to a point of her physically hurting you, the only time she would ever physically hurt you would be if you throw hands or try to harm her. Her punishments were to tie you down, sometimes in the dark blindfolded if you were being extra bad.

The mental breakdowns it causes, the panic, anxiety. It was torture to be locked away, unable to move, unable to see for a whole week. You hate the woman with your heart, yet you held strong fear for her too because you knew the complete control she has over you.

A knock was heard, you didn’t look. You knew it was her, who else would it be? No one knew where you were, your family.. your friends. No one.

The door opened.

“I’m back love.” Tennant sat once again beside you on the bed, “I will hand feed you, open your mouth wide!” She exclaimed.

You obeyed and let her feed you. As much ad you hate her, you sort of appreciate her efforts of taking care of you. I mean truthfully, she could do worse and not care at all.

Her cooking was also pretty good. Tennant is known for having great taste, even in food. The chicken soup really showed that, it was tasty, creamy, it’s ridiculous to start rambling about how good chicken soup is but it’s true!

“Oh? You like it don’t you?” She smirked “Once you are finished i’ll be sure to prepare you some tea. Tea helps a lot during these conditions of sickness.”

You looked at her shyly, afraid to make your staring too obvious. It’s almost unbelievable that she is the same woman who has turned your life into a living hell… It’s even heartbreaking; in a way.

“Erm… Thank you… For taking care of me..” you randomly said.

She gave you a coy smile “My sweet darling, no need to thank me. It is my job as your lover to take care of you after all, no?” She placed the bowl of soup on the nightstand again and leaned close to you.

You grew nervous, it was awkward. With one hand she wrapped it around your waist, and with the other one, gently grabbed your chin while brushing her thumb against your lips.

“I suppose.” You softly said.

Tennant chuckled, “You’re so adorable. I love you so much, i’d do anything for you.”

Suddenly she pulled you into a kiss. It wasn’t nowhere near hungry, filled with lust like many past ones you’ve had with her, rather it was possessive yet passionate. Too deep in thought you weren’t sure how to respond, kiss back? Don’t?

You kissed back slowly and awkwardly. It was painful, painful to know this is your life now, what other choice do you have? There is no way out, no one to save you. Obedience is the only way you can live peacefully with this woman, to submit, forget your past, your friends your family… You’re stuck here with her, you’re like her pet, her house wife, her possession; you don’t feel like a human being.

You’re so hopeless, and alone.

You wanted to cry, you never wanted your life to turn this way.

What did you do to deserve this!?

Tennant pulled back and caressed your cheek “Now, you should finish your soup before it gets cold.“

Throughout the whole day she was there, she didn’t leave like many other days to go “work”, it was weirdly comforting. She brought you tea and sat under the bedsheets with you and read you a book she bought a few days ago for you.

As for the night she cuddled with you, she kept you wrapped around her arms during the cold night. She stayed with you.

It’s sad… If only she wasn’t a monster underneath that pretty face of hers, if only she wasn’t a psychopath, if only she truly felt love, you would’ve been more than happy to have her in your life.

But life is cruel isn’t it?

You laid there on the bed, staring at that same window from before. Tennant laid there sleeping, her body pressed against yours as she held you.

Will you just give up and try to fall for this crazy woman? Will you forget about your past, everything and everyone with the only thing left to remember is your name?

A tear rolled down your cheek as you buried your face against the sleeping woman’s chest. You hate her, but she is the only one you have right now.

#reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse1999 #reverse 1999 tennant #re1999 #tennant #tennant reverse 1999 #tennant x reader #ada tennant #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999: tennant #yandere tennant #reverse 1999 tennant x reader

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yuri-is-online · 7 months

Note

Congratulations for your 500 followers! I hope I'm not late, if you don't mind I would like prompt number 2 for the first year.

Since there're only 3 characters to choose from. I'll specifically choose them, it's Deuce, Jack and Sebek.

Hope is okay.

2. "Someone" decides to ask you for your opinion about "their friend" and you decide to have a bit of fun and tease them.

My dear you are a very lucky listener, between you and another friend I have all the usual first years for this, so I am going to go ahead and swap out Deuce for Epel on this post. The others can be found here. Though if we are being honest, I probably would have gone ahead and done all five of them anyway, there's just something about them that makes you not want to separate them you know?

notes: they/them used for Yuu, Jack doesn't handle embarrassment well, Epel is a brat, and Sebek is canonically easily flustered. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Jack

He has yet to think of a good way to talk about this. Jack has always been in tune with your movements, since long before he realized what it meant; no matter the size of the crowd he could drown it all out and find your heart beat. The sound draws him towards it out of habit, though he remembers himself enough to shy just short of invading your space and making introductions. Your heart is at rest, enjoying the sights and sounds of the ball, only spiking briefly when you notice him. Is it wrong, he wonders, to wish for it to have remained elevated? Moon knows his can never keep it steady around you.

"Hi!" You sound so happy. It's enough to make him scowl, jealousy clawing it's ugly way towards his throat keeping his mouth tightly closed. "Are you enjoying the festivities?"

Jack nods, doing his best to keep his tail from flinging the cape Crewel had so carefully pinned to his shoulders across the room. Jealousy cannot dull his happiness to see you, and your kindness is seldom denied to strangers.

"That's good to hear." You say without a hint of irony, and then you turn to leave, pausing when he moves along to follow. "Are you ok?"

"I'm trying to find a friend." Jack wants to hit himself as soon as he says it. Sure, Ace had suggested it as a joke but he had insisted it was a bad idea. A terrible idea. An idea that disrespected both yours and his common sense, and yet here he was asking you anyway. "Have you seen Jack?"

Now Jack had always had your interest, but now he had your attention. "Who?" If he didn't want to die before he definitely did now. His broad shoulders sag, only slightly they're much too muscular to do much more. "Oh you mean the Savanaclaw freshmen! Right? What do you need him for?"

"I'm just... looking for him." Jack sucks at lying, he's too uptight and too strict to his own code excel at it.

The tie he feels to you screams at him every time he does, lying does not protect the pack, it hurts them. And who is more vital to the pack than-

"Just to look at?" You have your arms clasped behind your back and are smiling? "I'll admit he is very pretty but I don't think you need to be looking at him."

"I shouldn't look at him?" How cute, the poor baby is confused. You move to stand right up against his chest, watching happily as he doesn't so much as flinch a single inch.

"No no, you should keep your eyes on me. Because," you press your finger against Jack's lips as if to shush him "I'm his one and only, the only way you are allowed to admire my Jack is if you see him reflected in my eyes." One second passes. And then two more, three draw themselves out as you see Jack's teeth grind faster than the gears in his head.

You have been toying with him, he realizes as the last of his embarrassment is swallowed up in the fire that lights up in his eyes.

"Oi, don't you remember what I said las time?" Your eyes widen as Jack breaths in the scent of your excited shock. "I told you-" his arms wrap around your waist to lift you up in the air, he tells himself it's just to make leaving easier, "if you keep yanking my tail, there's going to be consequences." As if he didn't know that's exactly what you wanted.

Epel

"Well, you seem awfully lonely, are you sure you're alright?" Epel doesn't think he has ever put this much effort into Vil's ettiquite speech, but he needs to tonight. He knows he's short, he knows he has this damnable cute appearance, and he knows Rook is hovering somewhere just off screen waiting to swoop if he sees something mildly amusing.

But he just has to know, he's tried asking Deuce how you talk about him when he's not there but he had just spluttered and refused to say anything meaningful. Ace had been worse "Oh? Wouldn't you like to know apple boy-" well yeah no shit that's why he'd been asking. Jack and Sebek were denser than brick and weren't able to tell him much beyond that you thought "highly of his achievements." Great. No really that was just great. But maybe not as great as Sebek further adding that Yuu "thought he was just as capable as anyone else." That had crushed him for the better part of a week until Vil had accused him of pouting which wasn't cool guy behavior at a-

"You noticed." Yuu smiles, and his thoughts are once again derailed. It's not like their usual smiles, this one is sad. "Formal events like these are just a bit too much, I'm not used to them."

"I think they're sort of fun." It's the truth, Epel likes a good party. Really this isn't so different from home, the clothes are just less practical and more expensive. "But my buddy," that was too informal but you aren't giggling, so that has to mean he's in the clear "Epel, he used to have a real hard time with these things." You sit up just a bit straighter at the mention of his name.

"Oh, you're Epel's friend?" Silly Yuu, you thought you were talking to the man himself and excited he had been the first of your friends to come and check on you. There were some things you wanted to talk to him about, Vil was absolutely no help when you had asked if Epel talked about you when you weren't around. The hell sort of answer was "Obviously?" Not a workable one that's for sure!

"Yeah, I was wondering if you've maybe seen him around? I promised to help him with something tonight, but he's been hiding from me." As if the person speaking to you could be anyone but Epel, no one else at this school expresses his disappointment quite so beautifully as this.

"He's hiding from me too, sorry." You allow your genuine disappointment to shine through, trying to read how Epel reacts. He... doesn't exactly, instead allowing an awkward silence to fall over you that just cannot be allowed to stand. "It's really cute of him honestly."

"What?!" At least that's what you think Epel says, it's hard to hear over the angry gargle starting to brew.

"Seriously cute." You make sure to give an exaggerated dreamy sigh so he knows that he is being teased before you continue. "Really, he says all sorts of sorts of sweet things about me when I'm not around and then expects me to not know! It's adorable." Epel still doesn't budge, so you unwisely decide to press forward. "And those puffy cheeks he gets when embarrassed-" you've got a real good view of them right now "it's so sweet I could just eat him right up!" Speaking of up-

"Shut the fuck up." If there is one thing Epel is constantly reminding people of, it's that he's strong. But the force with which he guides, because a real man would never push, your back to the wall, caging you between two strong arms isn't surprising to you in the slightest. The glimmer in your eyes screams that he's been made a fool of, and that just won't do. "Well darling you think you're reaaaal funny don't cha? Well howabout youse sit your pretty little ass against that wall and let me show you something hilarious." He makes sure to kiss you slowly to make sure you are good and shut up before he continues. "Taste real nice, don't it?" And it must have worked because you nothing in favor of throwing your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer.

Sebek

Sebek is not a very self aware person. You have had several conversations with Lilia about this, his tone filled with fond amusement and yours with infatuated attraction. No one outside of maybe Rook or Cater would accept being called cute, but there was no real other word for it. Sebek was cute. Too cute, horrifically painfully adorable in a way that just made you want to eat your fist to keep from screaming and kiss all over his cheeks. And this little stunt he was trying to pull really wasn't helping.

"I am conducting a survey on Lord Malleus's retainers." Bless his heart, Sebek is trying to use his inside voice. "How exactly would you rate their performance?"

"Could you be a bit more specific?" You do not have to try very hard to sound interested, you are extremely interested in just how far this lie goes.

"Of course." Sebek sounds almost proud, he must have anticipated this line of questioning. "Have you had any problems with any of Lord Malleus's retainers?"

"Yes I have." You nod seriously and Sebek fumbles.

"O-oh. Um could I ask why?" He doesn't think to ask who, which does tug at your heart strings a bit. Poor boy might accuse Silver of being a slacker, but when someone implies there is a problem he almost always assumes it's with him. Well that just won't do.

"Certainly. Sebek Zigvolt was supposed to meet with me tonight but he seems to have forgotten that." You nod seriously enough to make Sebek choke.

"Yes." You sigh making sure to toy with your mask, flirting with giving Sebek the view of your face he wants so badly and breaking the rules of etiquette he feels honor bound to follow. "He promised me," he most certainly had not, that he would dance with me all night. I was really looking forward to it."

"WHAT? NO, I WAS- ahem." What Sebek had actually said was: "if Lord Malleus allows me I will show you how to dance so you don't embarrass the young master, human, but dont expect me to prioritize you over protecting him!" But that didn't matter to you. And clearly not to him if he was allowing Malleus to stay under Silver's inferior protection on the complete opposite side of the ballroom. He coughs into his glove as the other students around you barely budge; it's Sebek, of course he's yelling, but said boy still seems to think he's well disguised seeing as he returns to trying to lower his voice without a hint of irony. "Please continue, you said, Mr. Zigvolt was supposed to... meet with you?" You nod, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing any more from you just yet as you imagine the three act play currently showing underneath his mask. "Well. Since he is not here-" You barely stifle a laugh "would you care to allow me to escort you instead?"

"No."

"NO?!" That yell does get everyone's attention, some out of fear others out of pity assuming Sebek just got rejected hard. The boy himself certainly seems to think so.

"Well of course not," you make sure to lower your mask just so he knows, and cannot deny, the meaning of what you say next "I said I wanted to dance with Sebek, not someone he's pretending to be."

"Hmph." Sebek once told you fae don't blush, but that was either wishful thinking or a bold face lie with how red his entire body seems to have decided to turn. "It seems you don't quite understand the purpose of a masqurade, human. Very well, as my lord's retainer, I shall educate you." He gently, with a smile just as kind no matter how much he fights it to settle into professional indifference, pushes your mask into place and guides you towards the dance floor.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #500 followers celebration

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theclod3215 · 7 months

Text

My piece for the Malevolent Big Bang 2023! ( @malevolentbigbang )

Image ID in alt and under the cut (with some extra silly doodles!!)

It was an absolute honour to work with everyone on @organchordsandlightning ‘s fic!! It’s such an amazing story, I couldn’t recommend it more!! (I might have cried a bit)

You can read it here!

[ID: Digital art of Arthur Lester sitting cross-legged holding a golden haired baby, presumably Emily McFarland, swaddled in a golden blanket. Arthur, or rather John, is gazing down at her lovingly, tears running down his face. He is sitting against a stone bricked wall, with dark vines crawling towards him and blood splatters behind and on him and Emily. /End ID]

Unofficial doodles I made to try to come up with ideas! (Also cuz I went a little insane over the fic for a bit)

[Image ID: Screenshot of a Procreate canvas tinted a light cream. Several monochrome (excluding a blush applied to each figure) digital sketches of John Doe and Arthur Lester cover the canvas. John is portrayed as a large (in musculature) man with dark prominent eyebrows, a curved nose, a stubbly goatee (only on the chin) and yellow eyes with slight wrinkles underneath. He has dark hair styled similar to the ‘Façon’ hairstyle, though more messy and swooping/fluffy. He is also lightly shaded in.

Arthur is portrayed as a slight man with very messy hair reminiscent of the cut of the ‘contour’ hairstyle (but with no gel and grown out slightly). He has a moustache and prominent eye bags as well as many [canon] scars. His scars include: a nick on his right eyebrow close to his eye, a long thin scar along his neck, a large, messy, scraping scar on his right jaw and cheek, his wooden right pinky (sometimes not depicted on accident), and various other bodily scars. From left to right the sketches are as follows:

The top left sketch is of Arthur, in a plain white button down, seemingly laughing affectionately and looking downwards.

The next sketch is of John, in a button down, tie, vest and slacks, as he looks down at a bundle in his arms (the baby, or, Emily McFarland) with an anxious expression with wide eyes. The caption reads: “You are” [crossed out] “He’s a Dad!! (Boogie Woogie Woogie!!”

The next drawing is a design sketch of John, in the same clothes as before. He is looking to the right with a serious expression, eyebrows drawn together. The caption to the right of John says: “John’s Human Body.” The notes read as such: “In Arthur’s POVs, Just a silhouette w/ eyes”[pointing to the sketch].

The next is a series of four(4) drawings. The first being a darkened silly here of a figure (John) in a doorway, holding the door open with the caption “ominous.” The second is another sketch of John, still in the doorway, but now visible and this time in a tank top and sleep shorts, with messy hair, more stubble and an exhausted expression. There is a speech bubble reading, “Can I come in?” attached to him. A caption is to the right, also attached to the next drawing, and says, “same energy as:” the next sketch is in a simpler chibi-like style compared to the last, though it reflects the same moment from a different angle, with John saying a bit more pitifully, “Mom, I frew up.” The last sketch in the series is of Arthur, in the simpler style, looking as if he just woke up, with an exhausted and exasperated expression, squinting forward, as he hunches over and balls his hands into the blankets. The caption with an arrow pointing to him says, “Thought he was done w/ midnight invasions after Faroe”

In the upper middle left, there is one drawing of John, in button down and vest, anxiously clutching his chest/shirt, with wide eyes and a frightened nervous expression. The caption with an arrow pointing to him reads, “Look what you’ve done,,, you’ve given him anxiety”

The lower middle left contains another series of three (3) drawings, in the simpler style, starting with one of John. He is wearing a dark suit with a light button up and trench coat. He is looking at someone slightly off camera with a pleading look not unlike “puppy dog eyes” and is saying, “Could I take a cab?” The next drawing in the series is of Arthur, wearing a suit, tie and button down, with a confused look on his face, the caption reading, “*processing *” The next drawing is the continuation of the last, but Arthur is angry and flushing, his hands in the air as he shouts, “I’M NOT A CAB, JOHN”

The next sketch is of Arthur, in the last outfit, with his right hand on his hip and his left doing ‘jazz hands’. He is grinning smugly , his eyebrows raised high above his dark sunglasses. The caption around him reads, “Best Detective in ✨Arkham✨”

The very last sketch on the canvas, in the bottom left corner is of a cop (no discernible features except a hat, button down, and mouth) talking to Arthur, who looks resigned but pained. The cop says, “Man, this guy has shit luck” /end ID]

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sholangagaga · 9 months

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What's your opinion on Monty?

Oh I've been waiting for an ask like this to come across my inbox after how popular my Bonnie theories have been. (full theory and spoilers under the cut)

Short answer: I think he's neat!

Long answer: I think Montgomery Gator is one of, if not the, most tragic character in the entire Glamrock cast. And his tragedy, while of course upsetting to see, is also incredibly endearing from a narrative standpoint.

What does that mean? Well, let me explain.

Monty was not made to be part of the band. That much we know in the canon lore. He was his own animatronic, with his own attraction and his own thing. Whether or not he was there from the very beginning when the Pizzaplex was built, or maybe they added him later to bring in more diversity and subvert the burden on the main band, I don't think we'll ever know. (since every main band member has their own attraction, which probably subtracts from their available time to perform main shows throughout the day)

The only bits and pieces we get of Monty's "life" before his joining the band is narrated through the Gator Golf attraction.

Monty's story starts with him as a One Man Jug Band, playing by himself in his swamp.

Now it's already pretty apparent that the Monty we see here is way more docile and doe-eyed than the one we encounter in Security Breach, but maybe that's the point.

We all know the stories of humble beginnings, of rags to riches. To me, Monty was one of those stories. A little guy who ended up catching a big break down the line.

Now to get this out of the way, I don't believe Monty shattered Bonnie or the theory that Monty hated Bonnie (I went into detail here if you want the full explanation). We actually can easily debunk that theory in a few different ways, but the main thing is everything we see about Monty implies he actually admired Bonnie.

In his ride you see how he looks at Bonnie, His Showtime outfit incorporates yellow stars (like Bonnie), and he even still uses Bonnie's bass.

Now if you hate someone, if you hate them enough to kill them and take their place because you felt you deserved their fame, would you emulate that person? Would you use and wear their items, thereby constantly reminding yourself of someone you hate so much? Why would you go through the trouble of getting rid of them, of wiping them from everyone's memory, just to keep things that will always tie you to them? That doesn't make much sense to me.

You could argue that the items are trophies of his 'kill', but wouldn't you keep trophies or things of the like somewhere no one could see them? Why flaunt them and again, bring attention to this person that you hate so very much?

I think it's the exact opposite. Monty admired Bonnie, the depths of which we probably won't ever know the extent of, and when Bonnie disappeared, Monty took his place but never forgot the person who got him there. He wears Bonnie's glasses (which we never see Bonnie wear aside from in his neon portrait, which may imply that he might have given the shades to Monty directly at some time before he was shattered) and he uses Bonnie's bass, which was ALSO given to him according to the Gator Golf ride

I've seen people say that this scene is actually showing that Bonnie was just setting his bass aside after a show and Monty stole it, thereby using it for his own gain and I. . .don't see how people can infer that from the image? It looks like Bonnie is literally holding it out to Monty, who is on one knee and accepting it with respect and a cheerful expression on his face. Besides, you need some MASSIVE balls to just. . .steal a band's instrument after the show and just get away with it? Especially from what we see in game, there'd be no feasible way Monty could do that without the audience or technicians being like "What the fuck are you doing"

So yeah no, this looks like a mutual passing of the torch.

Anyways, Monty uses the shades and bass as a nod to Bonnie, he was a sweetheart with a baby face who got thrown into fame to replace his idol. I think, in some regards, Monty might've felt conflicted. Like, here he is in his dream job, but at the cost of someone he cared about.

You know who Monty DID hate though? Freddy. We can infer from plenty of sources and in game material that Monty HATED Freddy, and the reasoning for that could be literally anything, but it's not odd for a bandmate to dislike their leader/member because they're more popular (you see it a lot in IRL bands too, the favoritism and jealousy)

It's also easy to see that fame changed Monty, as it does for plenty of people. Having so many eyes on you, feeling the euphoria of all the love and attention day in and day out, it gets to your head. It changes who you are, muddles your humility. And we can see that Monty acts in the stereotypical Rocker way, conceited, destroys his greenroom and other things after shows, etc. It's an all too common trope and its sad to see it happen to Monty, though a lot of his rage could also be compounded by Glitchtrap/Vanny/Mimic being annoying (Notably, you never hear of Monty destroying his shades or his bass. Perhaps there are some things that he's oddly protective of)

And then in the main Security Breach, you only meet Monty at his worst. Angry, Corrupted, feral. You spend your time running from him (since Bonnie's shades protect him from most of Gregory's gimmicks), you hear from second-hand conjecture that he was probably the one who shattered Bonnie (which probably weighs on him too, the children asking where Bonnie is, and the technicians maybe side-eyeing him thinking that he's just a meathead who destroyed Bonnie to take his place) and each time you see him, he just gets more and more split from that sweetheart who was happily playing in his swamp.

Not to mention how he "dies"

Monty comes for Cassie, ruined beyond salvation, his mind still gone from all of the torment he endured being controlled and shattered over and over. To save herself, Cassie uses the Faz-wrench to activate the power and escape, only for the electric currents to turn the water into a death trap.

The thing that decommissions Monty, that finally puts him out of his misery, is Bonnie. That's Bonnie's neon portrait (a bit damaged from the dilapidated building) and it is the very thing that electrifies the water, destroying Monty's hardware. Whether or not its karma for Monty shattering Bonnie, or some sort of heartfelt prose that the thing that finally allows Monty to rest is the one person he cared about most, who's to say? You could argue it both ways, but isn't it just a tad more comforting to think that even in death, Bonnie was always looking out for his understudy?

Monty's story and character progression is a trope of Falling from Grace, of Icarus flying too close to the Sun and plummeting to the unforgiving earth. The more I learn about him, the more I feel bad for him. I think he deserved better. Roxanne for her redemption in Ruin, but Monty is left open-ended. A monster and murderer to some, a washed-up rocker to others.

But I think Montgomery was more than that. I think he had the capacity for gentleness and love, but he was in a position where the world was against him. His older and more experienced bandmates always destined to be loved more than him. He was basically an entry level teenager around mastery level adults. He might've lost his mind back then to the pressure and the negativity, resorting to violence for attention. No one was there for him, and Bonnie, the only person who probably would've been there for him and understood him better than most, disappeared without a trace, leaving him all alone in a world that would never fully accept him.

Yeah, I like Monty a lot.

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