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#feedback welcomed
greetings-inferiors · 6 months
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Okay so fnaf movie spoilers but I’m going to do a prediction/how I’d do fnaf 2 & 3
So because of Vanessa being hospitalised (or even dying? Preferably not) Mike has to go round her house to pick something up, but uh oh he either happens to find or gets curious and finds things relating to circus baby’s. Backstory is also revealed that Vanessa is this universe’s equivalent to Michael afton, and that she caused the death of a sibling, the crying child equivalent, and that’s why William had control over her (used the guilt). She could also even have a sister, Elizabeth equivalent, who was killed by and then possessed baby (but this was more explicitly afton’s fault). We also find out about the Charlie equivalent, who possesses the puppet, and Henry, but neither have been seen for years. They go into circus baby’s, and they search for Elizabeth, but after a few nights realise she’s being an evil and hatches the same scooping plot, and Mike gets scooped like in sister location. But to the other characters it seems like baby and the other Funtime animatronics are now destroyed, and that Mike is a okay. But we the audience know that Mike is being puppeted by robots, and maybe Vanessa or even Abby finds out, and that leads to a confrontation. Maybe ennard tries to harm Abby which makes Mike force a moment of control and eject ennard out of the body, and ennard escapes and then, when they’re mourning Mike, cold to the touch, not breathing, and just vomited a human size endoskeleton, his eyes open. End movie. We can have a pre or post credits scene of fazbear frights and them tearing down Freddy’s and finding springtrap.
Fnaf 3: confused as to how he’s still alive, and with the knowledge and exposition from circus baby’s, Mike and the gang learn about remnant, and how it essentially grants immortality, and how the scooper injected Mike with a fuckton, and as the main component is agony, the reason why the animatronics are haunted is because they died in intense agony, maybe they even realise “hold on… what if William is still alive?” Maybe they find out that fire “undoes” remnant. They decide they need to set all the souls free, and so try to find where old animatronics would be, and find fazbear frights, which is where William, the puppet, and ennard (I don’t know if they’ll do the whole scrap baby and molten Freddy thing) and we’re going to do it Vanessa vs William, Mike vs ennard, and Abby vs the puppet (not literally fighting, just confronting) Obviously when Mike and Abby try setting the souls free the puppet won’t like it, as she’ll think they’re up to no good. Ennard, possessed by Elizabeth, would also not like them ruining William’s plans, so will try and stop their old host. I think Abby will try and reason with the puppet (as she’s close in demographic), Mike and Ennard will clash (host vs occupier) and Vanessa and William will too (father vs daughter). In doing so, Abby will fully reason with the puppet, and Vanessa Mike and Abby will try and escape, only to find all entrances are completely sealed. Eventually they’ll find a single exit, the only way out, but (because at some point they learn of Henry’s plan) they know that the animatronics can’t be let out. As Mike is a corpse and knows he can’t carry on, he urges Vanessa and Abby to escape and he’ll fend off William and ennard. He tells Abby that he loves her one last time, and asks Vanessa to look after her. As ennard and William corner Mike and try to escape, Elizabeth says that she’ll kill Mike and let William escape and that she’ll make him proud.
And then the exit seals.
“Connection terminated. I’m sorry Elizabeth, if you even remember that name…” and you know the rest. Fazbear fright was a setup by Henry to get all of the animatronics in one place and set them all free. In the fire, Charlie is already resting, Elizabeth is frantically trying to escape, kicking and screaming, Mike slowly comes to terms with his death, and William… out of the corner of his eye, in the blaze… he sees a child… the one he should not have killed. In his last moments, he begs for life, about how he always comes back, he figured out immortality, it can’t end now… without realising what’s to come, and how much he will wish it could come to an end.
Outside of fazbear frights, Henry meets with Vanessa and Abby, and explains how he was framed for William’s murders, and that all this is finally over.
In the final scene, Vanessa and Abby (and maybe Henry) have ice cream, and sit on the hill, overlooking the graves of William’s victims, mirroring both the end of fnaf 6, but also of security breach (I may hate the game but goddamn it I’ve got to reference that ending, what a shot)
Anyway this is what I’d personally do for the second and third fnaf movies. It’s a shame that I skipped fnaf 4 but honestly I don’t know how I’d include it, I got the minigames in there a bit. But I think having fnaf 2 be 2&5, and fnaf 3 being 3&6 is a great idea. Having fnaf 2 be a mixture of flashbacks to the fnaf 2 era and the modern day with sister location I think is really interesting, and as I was thinking of how to include both fazbear frights and pizzeria simulator in the same movie I just thought… why not combine them into one thing? I think it’d make a really climactic movie.
I also think I didn’t give a few characters that much to do at times but like I’m only thinking of the overarching plot, everyone would have something to do in each movie lol
The first fnaf movie was genuinely amazing and I can’t wait to see what’s next!
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Three
Castille rose from his seat and came around the table slowly. I growled and snarled as I attempted to wriggle free of the guards. He was calm as he approached me; none of my attempts to be intimidating fazed him. His eyes matched his posture, clear and focused. I cowered a little as he came to stand in front of me. His hand grazed my chest, following a scar I didn't know that I had. “Stixpus,” he began. His tone sent shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes tightly as I waited for him to continue. “Did he give you these scars?” My heart raced as Castille followed the scar up to the big gash that marred my face. “ Stixpus,” I cringed at the worry that laced his voice. “Answer me please,” he pleaded as he grew closer to examine my face. A wheeze left my lips as I turned away from him.
“Guards. some space please,” Castille commanded. Their grip loosened just enough for me to slump into the chair. I could feel Dendra attempting to unruffle the few adult feathers that I had. Trying my best to steel myself, I turned my focus to her efforts. The table creaked as Castille took a seat on it just in front of me. His silence as he watched the interaction between us made me even more nervous than I already was. As Dendra swept a stray strand of hair behind my ear, he began again. “How old are you, Stixpus?” The lightness of his tone, caused me to look up at him. It was hard to read his expression; I couldn't tell what his aim was by asking me all these pointless questions. “Seventeen,” I croaked out as I readjusted in my seat. “Your temperament doesn't favor any of the owlkin I’ve ever met. Were you raised in Owl Country?” I watched him as his eyes followed Dendra; she had made herself busy untangling the knots in my hair. “No,” I replied firmly, drawing his attention back to me. “I was raised near Prosperita.”
“Prosperita?” He questioned as he migrated from his seat on the table to the one closest to me. “Were you orphaned or something?” he blurted as he perched himself at the edge of the seat. The shuffling of the guards around us made Castille blush before he cleared his throat. “Umm, what I meant to ask,” he chuckled nervously as he swept stray pieces of his fringe out of his face, “was why you grew up in Prosperita. It's practically on the other end of the Woodlands.” I looked at him incredulously. “I lived there because…that’s where my parents lived?” I said with uncertainty. This was met with a sea of laughter from the guards. Castille’s brown face turned rosy as the guards continued to laugh. As everyone began to settle down, Castille attempted to speak again. His hand rubbed his forehead as he searched for the words to say. “You’re the second person to leave me speechless, Stixy. I’ve never been so discombobulated in my life.” A guard, still obviously tickled by the whole interaction, stepped in. “I think,” he started before clearing his throat to keep from laughing, “what he’s trynna ask ya is why owls ‘ere living in Nymph Country.” A quick nod from Castille affirmed his question. A slight silence swept over us as I tried to determine the best way to answer him. “B-both of my parents aren't owlkin,” I attempted to say nonchalantly, “My mother was a Bryophyte nymph.”
Another silence swept over the group, this one, a lot more familiar than the last. I could feel the hesitation and judgment stifling the air. I casted my eyes toward Castille’s sandaled feet as the guards shuffled uncomfortably around me. If he had anything to say, I definitely didn't have the courage to look him in the face to receive it. With the reputation owlkin have built over the extent of my life, it's baffling that Castille and his people are so at ease around me. Why is he so trusting of me? For all he knows, I could be his worst nightmare.
Soft chirps from Dendra broke the silence among the group. She had made her way over to the table where fresh produce had been laid out. Shuffling from Castille’s direction made me tense. I reverted my gaze back to him; he was standing some ways away from the table, his eyes were locked on Dendra’s every move. “She’s quite the busy one isn't she,” Castille quipped as he continued to approach the table. My heart raced as his fingers dusted the top of her head gently. “Whatever it is you want from me, she ain’t a part of the deal,” I snapped, “If she’s all your after, you can cut me outta your stupid plan!” He withdrew his hand as he turned to face me squarely. “I have you know, Stixpus, I’m not in the business of taking hostages or collateral. Every person and woodfolk here I’ve freely given the resources to sustain and uplift themselves in this dying oligarchy of ours. I have no interest or ill intention in offering you those basic amenities.” He clicked his tongue as he scooped Dendra into his hands. Solemness cloaked his countenance as he watched her injured wings struggle to flutter. “Could you excuse us as well, my lady,” he spoke eloquently. Dendra hesitantly looked between us. “I assure you, I’ll take good care of your boy, “ he said coolly. With a final glance at me, she cautiously stepped into an awaiting guard’s hand. “Take her to the infirmary and ask Ms. Crissa to have a look at her,” he ordered as he crossed his legs and leaned against the table. He brushed his fringe out of his face as he took a deep sigh.
A long pause sat between us before Castille gestured for the remaining guards to leave as well. Though hesitant, they followed his orders without any objection. His back faced me as he watched the dining room clear. He hung his head as the door finally creaked close. A few sniffles rang through the now vacant room. I noticed how white his knuckles turned as he repeatedly clenched his fists. His breath quivered as he attempted to compose himself. His voice was frail as he began to speak again. “I wasn't very sincere when I asked you to work for me initially. I’d like to change my offer to you.” At this point, he had come to stand before me with his hands extended out. “It is imperative that you allow me to house you and your friend. I could never forgive myself if I allowed you to wander in a kingship that is completely against you. Your sheer existence poses more threats to our current society than you could ever comprehend, and I’d be eternally damned if I turned my back to you.” He grabbed my hands as he fell to his knees before me; he trembled as he placed his forehead against our entangled hands. I could feel my eyes begin to sting as I turned my head away from him. Why is he so tormented? He doesn't even know me. If I stayed here, I’d be nothing more than a cranberry stain on his white linen shirts, the downfall to all he’s ever worked for. Why is he kneeling for me? “It is no easy feat to ask a child so wounded to trust in the guidance of a stranger, but I beg of you to free your heart one more time. Your life and the freedom of our country depends on it.”
I closed my burning eyes wearily as I took in the evening sun trickling through the window. Castille’s hands began to tremble as he tried to maintain a steady embrace with my now laxing hands. His pleas were drowned out by my racing mind. With everything I’ve already gone through, I can’t take much more. I don’t want to take it anymore. I just wanna go back to how it was, living in our burrow hidden in unclaimed land. I want to lay on soft, moist soil and watch the sun peek through the trees. I want stillness, peace. I turned to look back at him; the sun had cloaked him in a graceful ambience. I’m so pathetic. I’ve gotta complete stranger cowering at my feet, begging to help me. He’s willing to put all that he has at stake to help a waste of space. Maybe I should convince him to turn me in. At least then I’ll be one less burden for his shoulders to bear.
A few tears trickled down my face as I mustered the strength to pull away from him. Castille rose to his feet and backed away from me slightly. “All I’m asking is that you give yourself one last chance, the chance to prove to this world that everyone has their place. Regardless of your ties to Ekcilius, you deserve the opportunity to know you're worth the kindness and respect this world offers,” he whispered, “so please, even if nothing else changes, let me at least show you some of the goodness life has to offer.” “Y-your offer is too mu-much for me to accept,” I choke out as I push away from my seat. I am doused in a wave of nausea as I try to compose myself. I limped past him, ashamed to meet his pleading gaze. I can’t be your king. I’m not worth your sympathies. “I’m s-sor-” Before I could finish, a wave of pain washed over me; it felt like my whole body had been squeezed in a case of pins. I could feel my knees buckling underneath me. All I could do was scream as I felt my entire body pulsate. Even though my eyes were wired shut, they stung as if I had been forced to stare at the sun all day. I couldn't hear anything outside of the rhythmic thumping in my head. AC-EHP -- AVE -- BEE-OME. CEP -- WAT -- COME. A small voice had made itself known among my internal struggles. It was foreign but unnervingly soothing to my current state; it sought me out with no intention of heeding to my tantrum. With each rasp of my breath it came to me clearer and more forcefully. YOU -- ACCEPT -- HAVE BECOME. A moment of calmness came over me before the message and its sender became clear to me. YOU MUST ACCEPT WHO YOU HAVE BECOME. My tender eyes fluttered open briefly before I slipped into darkness. The room once dusted in sunlight was now fully illuminated by the moon.
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frogizzhc · 22 days
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New Addition to Blog!
I will be adding a new kind of content to this blog:
Incorrect Quotes!
At times I run out of head canon ideas and don't know what to do for a long time. There will be image posts and text posts with incorrect quotes and I will still be doing headcanons.
As always, I accept requests through my ask box, so please give me anything and I will try my best to interpret your idea!
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prideknights · 9 days
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(What we have in mind for now are black dragons, with low density silver glitter, silver enamel, so that the pride flag pops)
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too-much-tma-stuff · 3 months
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This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.
In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.
Masterpost
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Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.
He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?
He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.
And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.
So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.
It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.
"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.
He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.
"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"
'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.
"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.
"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.
"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"
"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.
"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.
The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"
"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.
Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.
Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.
"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.
The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.
Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.
The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.
He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.
"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.
"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.
"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.
"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.
"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"
Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.
"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.
"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.
"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."
"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.
"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"
Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.
"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."
"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.
The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?
That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.
Part 2
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cookieshapedrat · 2 months
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CW// Scopophobia!
Haven’t posted in a while, but I’m back with a little spooky art. Horror isn’t my specialty. Despite that, I went for it anyways. So here is spoopy boi Wally @:)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 months
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Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 1: Dread on Arrival
(Part 2)
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xx-sketchy-xx · 5 months
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*Audible plop of me dropping this in front of you*
so uh, ya, idk what to think of it (by @Henneyyy on tic toc)
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zelliphies-art · 1 month
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School gala, aged up version ✨
I loved chapter 96 so much 🥰
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A map for my story. I've been trying to work on some world-building stuff, but I'm new to all of this. Hopefully I can do a more detailed one later.
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the reference I used:
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muffinlance · 7 months
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Crochet Pattern: Rollable Isopuppy (Giant Isopod Dog)
Crochet an isopuppy! As cuddled in Salvage; story and pattern both by me. Whether you’ve read the story or not, treat yourself to a Very Good Dog. You deserve it. <3
>>> Get the pattern here! <<<
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[id: Photos of a crocheted isopuppy (giant isopod dog) from various angles. It has the head and tail of a dog, with isopod legs, shell, and antennae. It is a very Good Boi. End id.]
Also that is now my site for patterns, both sewn and crocheted (Dragon Zuko is also up there), so. Subscribe if you're interested in that. If you're interested in my writing, that's at this site. Also I'm on Ravelry now.
>>> Isopuppy Pattern! <<<
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dockett · 1 year
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Asking Nicely II Joel Miller x Reader
Joel's jealousy burns within him, brighter than he thought it would. But you're a tough gal, you can hold your own.
Warning: implied age gap, unwelcome advances, brief depiction of violence, explicit content, fingering f!receiving, p in v, unprotected sex. 18+ only, minors DNI!
Word count: 3k
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You were a bright and shining light in the darkness of a broken world, and whether Joel would admit it or not, it made him incredibly nervous. He enjoyed you, more than he wanted to say, especially to himself. He was worried that if he confessed his feelings to himself or to you, that you'd leave, or something terrible would happen. So he kept quiet, and would watch you from a distance, thinking about the way you'd fit against him in all the right ways.
He was at the bar in Jackson well past sundown. He had come to see you. You were playing that night; Tommy had asked you to. So you sat in the corner of the bar, strumming the guitar and singing as everyone quieted to listen.
Joel vaguely recognized the tune, something slow and mellow that had couples swaying together around the tables. You sang beautifully. You played beautifully. He basked in what felt like normalcy and stayed until you were done several songs later. He watched you smile as the people in the bar clapped for you.
You set the guitar in the stand, and walked up to the bar, and Joel finished his whiskey. The bartender announced last call but he stayed seated. He watched as Ben, a man about your age, sidled up next to you and began talking to you. Joel could see you beam at him, and something stirred within him.
He kept his face carefully composed. He watched you shake your head, and then look around desperately. He felt it was a call for help. He stood as people began to leave, walking with intention in every step towards you.
“C’mon,” Ben was saying. “You said it yourself, you're not doing anything tonight. Come on over.”
“Ben, I'm flattered, really! But—oh, hi Joel.” You looked over Ben’s shoulder at Joel, relief washing over you. Joel offered you a nod and Ben turned. Joel was slightly taller than him, and heavier set than him. But Ben didn't back down immediately.
The younger man squared his shoulders, looking Joel in the eyes. Joel didn't find him to be intimidating, but he did see him as a threat. A threat to you.
Ben reached for you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You tried pulling away but he kept you locked against him as the two men stared each other down. You felt uncomfortable, and you tried to pull away again. “Ben, please.”
Joel watched, clenching his fists. Anger began pouring into his chest as you glanced at him, a fleeting look that he couldn't read. He stepped towards Ben. “You had best listen to her.”
“Or what?” Ben sneered. You wormed your way out of his grasp. He turned his head to look down to you, and that's when you closed your hand into a fist and punched him.
Ben stumbled back from the force of the blow, and Joel stepped between you and the man. The bar went silent, the remaining people fixing their eyes on the trio. Joel might as well have been a wolf, hackles raised and growling as Ben touched his jaw. Ben glared at Joel, spitting out, “Son of a bitch.”
“Move along now, son,” Joel replied, preparing himself for the imminent fight.
You breathed hard, your fury written across your face, and when Ben looked to you, you held his gaze and cocked an eyebrow. You wanted to dare him to overstep again, especially now that Joel was here. Your knuckles throbbed from the impact of the blow. It made you feel alive.
Ben scoffed, shaking his head, and turned to leave. Joel stood between you the whole time, waiting for the door to close behind him before turning to you. He looked you up and down, asking silently with his eyes if you were okay. He reached down, grabbing onto your hand, looking at the red skin over your knuckles. One of them had split, and was dripping blood.
“C’mon,” he said, jerking his head to the right. “Let's get you outta here.”
•••
Joel sat across from you and tended to your wounds with gentle hands. He had a clean rag in his hands that was soaked in alcohol; you commented that he was good at this. He wiped the area around the split, and then dabbed at the wound itself. 
You resisted the urge to pull your hand away at the sting, but you held firm, watching him as he furrowed his brow. “I've patched myself up enough to know, I guess.”
Nodding your head, you sighed. “I shouldn't have punched him.”
“If you hadn't, I would've,” he quipped. “No one gets to touch you like that.” 
Amusement beamed at your eyes as you looked at him. You had seen the flash of jealousy in his eyes earlier, and you could see it again more clearly now. “My my, is Joel Miller jealous?” 
Joel froze, clearing his throat, and you knew you had caught him like a rabbit in a trap. “No.”
“Uh huh,” you teased. He frowned, setting down the rag before standing. Your smile disappeared. You didn't realize you had struck such a strong chord. 
“I should get goin’.”  
“Hey,” you said, reaching out and grabbing onto his arm as he tried to step away. “I'd like it if you stayed.”
The man locked up again, his gaze snapping to yours in an instant. You rose from the chair. “Please?”
He sighed. “Suppose ya did ask nicely.”
You grinned up at him, and then your hands moved, one resting on his chest and the other on his neck. He was still, his breath hitching. His voice was deathly quiet when he whispered, “What’re you doin?”
Pressing your body against his, you tilted your head up. “Something I should've done a long time ago,” you whispered back, and then you kissed him. 
He whined. Almost silent, but it was there, swallowed by your mouth as you moved your lips against his. You began to pull away when he didn't respond immediately, fear of overstepping suddenly at the forefront of your mind. 
Then, his hands pressed into your lower and upper back, keeping you from backing away. He kissed you back, and he kissed you hard. It was zealous and feverish, growing more intense as the hand you had on his neck inched up and back into the hair on the back of his head. You were pressed backward into the table. Joel pulled away, you whined in protest, and then you were lifted by your hips up onto the surface.
His lips returned to yours, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped from your mouth as his tongue darted out, licking over your bottom lip. You met him, tongues tangling together, as you spread your legs to accommodate his body between them. You could feel wetness pooling at the apex of your thighs. You could feel the heat of the moment possessing you—Joel possessing you—and you gasped for breath when he pulled his head away. His touch left wakes of fire, tingling sensations burning across your skin. You needed more. 
“Maybe I was jealous,” he growled, and you shuddered. “Maybe I've been thinkin’ of this for weeks.” 
Your cheeks flushed at his admission and your eyebrows furrowed. “Well, maybe I've been thinking about it for months.”
His eyebrows raised, and then a smirk slowly played across his lips. “Darlin’, all you ever had to do was ask.” 
You swallowed, playing with one of the buttons on his flannel. “Joel,” you started, looking up at him through your lashes. “Take me to the bedroom.”
He didn't waste a second, hooking his hands under your knees and lifting you with a soft grunt. You directed him down the hallway towards your room. You expected him to throw you on the bed, to tear off your clothes, to bite you, to claim you, and you wanted these things. But when he laid you down with the softest hands, gentle and easy, you realized that you'd take any piece of him he'd give to you. His tenderness would not go unnoticed. 
He licked his lips as he looked over you, splayed out on the bed beneath him, and you felt shy. You turned your head, trying to hide, and he gave you a ‘tut tut’ with his tongue. “Look at me.” 
You did as he asked, and he followed it with a, “Good girl.” Your body shook in response, your cheeks burning again. He chuckled. 
He leaned down, grabbing your hands and pinning them together over your head. He told you to keep them there as he kissed along the side of your neck. He undressed you methodically, undoing the buttons on your shirt, one by one. You could feel your impatience growing. “Joel.” 
He hummed in response. The last button came undone and his hands found your bare sides, running up and down them before taking your breasts in his hands. He squeezed them gingerly, feeling their weight in his palms. You couldn't help squirming. You struggled with not moving your hands, you wanted to feel over him, too. You resisted the urge to touch his shoulders, to feel the muscles underneath his button up. You wanted him, more in that moment than you'd ever wanted anything else. 
He undid the button and fly on your jeans, and he pulled them down and away, leaving you clad in only your underwear. He breathed heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He looked at you with feral eyes. You could feel it in his gaze: he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
His fingers hooked around your underwear, pulling them off in one motion. Your hands fell then, touching his arms. He looked at you, a domineering flame in his eyes, and in one smooth motion he grabbed onto you and flipped you onto your side. A smack landed on your asscheek, stinging the skin. You yelped, and then shuddered. He chuckled. 
His palm rubbed over where he'd slapped you. “What did I say?” 
“Not to move my hands…” you whispered. 
“Don't disobey me, darlin’.” 
“Yes, Sir.” 
“Good girl,” he repeated. Your eyes closed, mouth watering at his praise. You never thought it would sound so good. He rolled you back onto your back, and came to lay beside you, propping himself up on his elbow as his other hand came to your thigh. He rubbed, and then squeezed, and then inched his way up towards your pussy. 
You shuddered in anticipation. You wanted him to touch you in the spot only you had touched. He stopped moving, and you whined in protest. Your arms stayed above your head this time. You looked to him, and his eyes were watching you. 
“I wanna make sure,” he mumbled. “Is this alright?”
“Yes,” you breathed. “But…”
He tensed. “Yes?” 
“I haven't done this—” you started, and then felt yourself hesitating. You felt embarrassed. “—this kinda shit before.” 
His eyebrows raised and he squeezed your thigh. “You're sure you wanna do it with me?”
You didn't hesitate this time. “I do.”
His middle and ring finger brushed up over your folds, palm resting on the junction of your thigh and pelvis. Your eyes closed, and you could feel him lean and kiss your forehead. “Alright then.”
He brought his fingers to your clit, pressing against it in slow circles—testing the water. You gasped, nails digging into your palms to keep your hands from moving. Your thighs shook ever so slightly. Joel's lips found your neck, your head rolled to the side, and he kissed your skin, leaving little nibbles in his wake as he traveled down and then up again. One finger sunk into your entrance, and your thighs jolted closed. 
He waited until your legs fell again to pump in and out, and you couldn't stop the groan that left you. Joel's breathing was loud in your ear. 
He sunk another finger inside of you, slowly stretching you. His fingers were so much bigger than yours, long and thick, and he played you like an instrument. He found which spots made you cry out, and he pushed and rubbed them until you were a sweaty, babbling mess in his hands. You tossed and turned your head, his lips by your ear, encouraging you. 
“Doin’ so good, darlin’,” he whispered. “So wet, so tight. Oh yes, right there, huh? That's the spot. Yeah.” 
Your hips bucked off the bed as he curled his fingers. Your hands shot down to your sides, gripping the blanket underneath you. He chuckled, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't focus, his fingers driving you to insanity. You knew that this would be bad for you, because you would never stop craving this. Every time you'd see him, you'd want him more than you already did. He knew it too. 
His hand shifted angles, his thumb flicking at your clit as his fingers continued their ruthless assault. “Joel.” 
You whispered it like a prayer. 
“Cum. For me, darlin’, please.” 
He flicked twice more, and everything that had been building in you exploded. Your legs slammed closed around his hand, and he moaned with you as you cried out. The waves crashed into you, carrying you further from reality, small movements of his hands driving you forward into the deep waters you recognized as Joel. You were putty in his hands. Your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth open, and Joel couldn't help but watch as you came on his fingers. He was mesmerized. 
You began to come down, twitching and jerking, and then trying to scramble away from Joel's movements. It was all too much for you. It was overwhelming. Everything was loud, your combined breathing, your heart slamming in your chest and the blood pounding in your ears. You reached to grab his forearm, digging your nails into his skin, and he finally slowed to a stop. You shook like a leaf.
He kissed you then, his lips soft against yours. You realized then that he was still fully clothed, and you reached for his belt. He grabbed your wrist, stopping you from undoing it as he pulled away. You groaned, trying to express your discontent. 
“Patience,” he said, ducking his head to take your nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it, flicking it with his tongue, making your back arch. He pulled away with a ‘pop!’ and you fell back onto the bed. He got up, taking off his shirt and undoing his belt. He kicked his boots off, then his pants and underwear followed, and you saw the sight you had been literally dreaming of for weeks. 
He was a broad and beautiful man, scars and hair covering his body. You followed the trail of hair down from his navel, and your eyes widened at the sight of his cock. It was long, thick, curved up and weeping with precum.  He got back up on the bed.
You felt nervous. Joel could see it. He took your face in his hands. “If you wanna stop, at any point, you just tell me,” he reassured. 
“Okay,” you replied. “I will.” 
He nodded his head, hands going down by your sides to hold himself up as he climbed over the top of you. His cock rubbed against you, your wetness coating him. He trembled. 
His cock pushed into you, and your breath hitched. The stretch of him entering your pussy stung, and your hands shot to his back, gripping him. He didn't say anything, just slowly but surely worked his way inside of you. He sighed when he finally seated himself. You were breathing hard, and sweat had gathered at your temples. 
“I'm gonna move, darlin’.” 
You nodded, opening your eyes to find him staring at you. Something shone in his, something warm and almost loving. You wanted to drink it up, sit in this moment forever. He was looking at you like nothing else in the world mattered to him. He moved then, his thrusts deep and heavy. 
It felt so goddamn good. 
You cried out, and he reached down, encouraging you with his hands to wrap your thighs around his hips. You did so immediately, and it allowed him somehow even deeper access. You moaned, then gasped, then whispered his name. He hummed. 
“Faster,” you whined. He obliged. 
Each increase of pace was followed by squeezing him harder with your legs, or digging your nails into the skin of his back, and you cried out louder each time. 
He wasn't quiet, whispering your name, whispering praises, telling you how good you were for him. He moaned when your hips shifted off the bed, trying to meet his thrusts. 
“Excited, huh? Do you like when I make you feel good, sugar? F-fuck. You're so god damn tight, feels so damn good.” 
“Mhmmm! Yes, Joel! I can't—I can't—” 
“Can't what?” He crooned, brushing a hand across your cheek. “We both know you can cum for me again.” 
That did it for you. You unraveled again. Your hand came up, grabbing onto his hair and pulling him down onto you. His body covered yours, pressing against you, his face tucking against your neck. He moaned loudly, and you shook, unable to even do much as breathe as you tightened around him over and over again. His thrusts became heavier again, more sporadic, and then he was cumming, too. 
He fell against you completely, barely holding himself up. You gulped in the air when you felt like you could breathe again, resting your cheek against the side of his head. Your hands slowly relaxed. 
He moved after a couple minutes of silence, pulling out of you before rolling to lay by your side. You immediately curled up against him.
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
“No no,” he replied. He gave you a smile, a genuine broad grin. “Thank you.” 
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leafsfromthevine · 2 months
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are we about to kiss rn? (based on that one photo... you know the one)
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itsartistickiwi · 5 months
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Realised that I made this over the course of a few days back in September inspired by a post from @binary-bird and the works of classical composers (Dmitri Shostakovich specifically) but never posted it anywhere! Thought it's time to share it, so I touched it up, added a few things and boom! All I ask is that this please not be reposted anywhere else, thank you!
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lu-cider · 7 months
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hit 100 followers recently sooooo
I made a drawing!!
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THEY'RE SO HAPPY FOR ME THEY ARE THEY ARE SO SO SO HAPPY LOOK THEY'RE CELEBRATING ME THEY LOVE ME GUYS THEY DO LOOK THEY LOVE ME!!! (°▽°)
now in ALL seriousness thank you everyone so much for just like... being here in the first place? it's amazing, and honestly surprising to some extent, to see so many people like what I make and it really keeps me motivated, even with all the general school stress now that the academic year has started. You guys are all so so so awesome and I'm so thankful for every single person who even just likes my drawings and I can't even truly express my gratitude for the people who also keep coming back. thank you.
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virescent-v · 5 months
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Can you do a "on your knees" smut prompt?
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Like a Prayer
A/N: I don't know what this is, but I'm happy with it I think? But mostly, I hope this is what you wanted! It's super short, but that feels right? Idk dude, it's all about the vibes today and I'm just rolling with it.
Word Count: 663 Warnings: it's smut lol but it's not as...detailed as some of my other stuff hehehe
Panting breaths, clashing teeth, pushing, pulling. 
Stumbling over each other and the trail of clothes you were leaving, you and Emily bumped into the wall outside of her bedroom. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling your head back to give her room to attach her lips to your neck. 
Each breath you took felt like a fire in your lungs, like your chest was going to collapse in on itself. 
Leaving dark marks on your neck, Emily’s lips traveled back up, catching yours in a heated embrace. Breaking apart for air, Emily took your hand and led you into the bedroom. 
At the edge of her bed, her eyes caught yours, while her hands wrapped around your hips, her thumbs rubbing the skin exposed between your shirt and pants. You could feel the intensity of her gaze burning into you, a precursor for the mood of the night, a culmination of the heat that’s built up all evening. 
“On your knees for me,” she commanded.
You held her gaze as you slowly slunk to the floor, trailing your hands down her torso and legs, rubbing circles on her toned thighs. The soft click of the zipper as each part of the chain came loose echoed in your ears, heightening each ebb of arousal that coursed through you. 
The brush of fabric down Emily’s legs caused her to sigh, the kisses to her thighs caused her to whimper. The skim of your nose against her coarse curls as you breathed in her smell, her arousal for you, made her tilt her head back and shudder. 
“Eyes on me, Em.” 
Tilting her head back down, her eyes a shade darker, her hand tangled in your hair at the top of your head. 
With held eye contact, Emily guided your face toward her pussy. 
Emily’s eyelids fluttered at the first contact of your tongue on her clit, the soft, slow swirls causing her hips to jerk towards you. With each pass of your tongue, her eyes became seemingly darker, more hooded, a challenge to continue watching you. 
As you got into a rhythm, Emily’s hips started rolling into you, matching the pace you were setting. The movement of your mouth against Emily was making her let out the most delicious noises; groans, sighs, and guttural whimpers that had you moaning against her, the vibrations pushing her closer and closer to the edge. 
Switching it up to extend her pleasure, you started licking broad strokes against her, gathering as much of her essence as you could, the heady flavor driving you crazy. Getting your fill of her, you tossed one of her legs over your shoulder, opening her up further to you. Bringing up your fingers, you entered her, causing her to bend forward in bliss. 
Using your two fingers, you thrusted in and out, making sure to hit the spongy spot inside of Emily that always made her cry out. You loved feeling how wet she got for you, how tight her cunt would clamp down on your fingers as she started to reach her peak. Each thrust that brought her closer made Emily’s fingers tighten in your hair, pulling it to an almost uncomfortable pain. 
Her hips continued to grind against your face, as if she was starting to use you for her pleasure. It would’ve felt greedy, but you wanted her to use you, to take from you as much as you wanted to give.
As Emily came, her legs shaking against the side of your head, you held onto her to stop her from falling, but to drag out her orgasm until she started to push you away before becoming too sensitive.  
Miraculous, all consuming, addictive. The only words that encapsulated how you felt each time you made her cum. 
Getting on your knees for Emily felt powerful, almost religious, like a prayer to a god you didn’t believe in. 
It almost made you a believer, devout at the altar of her.
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