#getting back on the posting horse please clap

[boxboxlewis]

Daniel finds out about Max’s divorce from a Google alert.

“FORMER F1 CHAMPION NEWLY SINGLE, SEEN HITTING THE BARS IN MONACO.” Journalistic excellence from the Daily Mail, as always. But when actual newspapers start reporting on it, Daniel decides to reach out. He texts Max a cat meme. Subtext: sorry about your failed relationship, also I know you like cats. Max texts back Are you trying to cheer me up, and then 😂. It’s unclear if he’s 😂 at the cat or the notion of Daniel attempting to comfort. While Daniel is trying to figure this out a third text comes in. Stop reading stupid shit by dumb assholes who don’t know anything.

Nah it’s all good, I can’t read, Daniel replies. He hesitates, and then adds I am like. Sorry about stuff with kelly or whatever though.

Max thumbs-up reacts the message, and doesn’t reply.

Daniel figures Max’ll probably just start dating another exquisitely beautiful, exquisitely groomed woman with a disconcerting resemblance to his own mother. They’re ten a penny in Monaco, where Max still for some reason lives. 

He’s not prepared for the next tranche of articles his Google Alert brings him. “MAX VERSTAPPEN SEEN LEAVING GAY BAR.” “VERSTAPPEN REFUSES TO ADDRESS RUMOURS.” “VETTEL COMES TO VERSTAPPEN’S DEFENCE: ‘HE HAS A RIGHT TO A PRIVATE LIFE.’” Like… people go to gay bars sometimes, even if they’re straight. But do straight people let Seb Vettel defend their honour in the media?

Daniel opens his text thread with Max and types Hey, are you. You know. 

He deletes it, obviously. He’s got a lot going on in his own life. Brand ambassadorships out the ass, his film production company, his vineyard. He sends Max another dumb meme and calls it good. Max is just doing Max stuff. It’s some belated F1 champion rumspringa, probably, because when he was an actual teenager he was psychotically focussed on racing. He’ll settle down soon enough.

Daniel really isn’t expecting him to announce live on Dutch television that he has a boyfriend. The clip is in Dutch, obviously, but someone has added English captions, and Daniel watches over and over again. RIP his YouTube algorithm. It’s some daytime talk show, the kind of thing Max hates, the kind of thing he’d never do unless someone was twisting his arm about it. The host asks all sickly sweet if there’s a special someone in Max’s life. Max says, “Well yes of course there is my boyfriend.” The “of course” in Dutch sounds like naturally. Naturally, naturally. “And my family I am very close to, as well.” The camera dwells with voyeuristic glee on the talkshow host’s face as she tries and fails to pick her expression up from the floor. “Your boyfriend?” she manages. Max nods, impatient. Daniel rewinds the clip. Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend?

Daniel decides to visit Monaco. Not because of Max. It’s summer and the swing of the season is funnelling him that way, that’s all, towards the parties and the glittering people dancing on yachts, getting high, bright and beautiful, living that good life. He doesn’t have an apartment there anymore, but Max does, because Max never left: still has his custom penthouse with its views of the harbour. Unless—it’s a weird thought—unless Kelly kept it in the divorce. But when he texts Max to invite himself to stay, Max doesn’t mention anything about a new address. 

Max also doesn’t sound, like, super enthused, but that’s just how he is. It’s his natural Dutchness, most likely. Fine you can come then. You are lucky I don’t have plans is probably just the Dutch way of saying “Yeah sounds great, looking forward to reconnecting.” You are very annoying is probably how people from the Netherlands express affection. Daniel texts back Love you too my brother 🤘🤘

He gets his hair touched up before he goes, a little bit of tattooing at the roots in the front. He does a spray tan, and gets his face dermaplaned (not in that order). You can’t go to Monaco and not look good, that's all.

It always feels kind of weird, flying into Nice in a non-F1 context, first class instead of private, but Daniel fits, still: gets asked for his autograph at the airport, and then on the concourse, and when he stops to put petrol in his rental car (a sweet little Porsche, nice). He tosses his keys to the valet at Max’s building and the valet goggles. That’s right, baby: twelve-time Grand Prix winner Daniel Ricciardo is in town. Daniel winks and the valet turns gratifyingly mauve.

Max, when Daniel pushes into his apartment, is less enthusiastic. “Daniel. I really do not know why you’ve come.”

Daniel ignores him in favour of crouching down, trying to pet Jimmy or Sassy. “Hey, little guy,” he croons. “Or girl. What’s up? Do you remember Uncle Danny? Am I in town to show your daddy a good time? Yeah I am! That’s right. That’s right.” Jimmy or Sassy scowls at him and swipes with one needle-tipped paw. All right, drama queen. Daniel stands back up and grins at Max. “I mean, mostly I wanted to meet your boyfriend,” he says, for some reason. What the fuck, Ricciardo. He keeps grinning, styles it out. “Gotta give him the old shovel speech, right?”

Max is doing the blank-eyed stare Daniel remembers so well from their racing days. It’s wildly disconcerting coming from this Max, who looks. Different, that’s all. He’s thick, still fit and well-muscled but heavy with it now, t-shirt stretched over the layer of hard fat covering his abdomen, face softer. He’s a bear of a man, he could—he could do lots of things, obviously. It’s fine. It’s just that part of Daniel still expects him to be the gawky teenager Daniel loomed over.

Max says, “What do you want to say to my boyfriend about shovels,” and for a bewildering moment Daniel has no idea what he’s talking about. 

“Oh, no, it’s like—it’s a saying, or whatever, when someone starts dating someone. I mean, usually dads say it, I guess, but like—the idea is if he mistreats you I’ll…” Daniel trails off as he realises he’s not actually sure what “shovel speech” means. “Uh, hit him with a shovel? Or I guess potentially, like, use it to bury his corpse. Whiiiich is a joke! Not actually going to bury anyone.” No, weird comment, Daniel’s not actually going to bury anyone t-shirt is raising a lot of questions et cetera. Hastily, he adds “As long as he behaves!” and then stands there mentally kicking himself while Jimmy/Sassy yowls soulfully near his ankles. He's never like this, he never loses control of a conversation like this. It's agonising.

Max stares at him for a long moment, and then cracks up. “Daniel, you are still so weird,” he says. It sounds kind of affectionate. 

“You know it, baby,” Daniel says. “So, where’s the boyf?

Max’s cheeks go a little red, it looks like. Maybe Daniel’s imagining it. “Ricardo is at the gym,” he says.

Daniel has to have misheard that. “Sorry, what’s this dude’s name?”

“Ricardo,” Max says grumpily. “My boyfriend.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Once again Daniel decides, against his better judgement, to style it out. “Uh, is he Australian, by any chance? And devastatingly charismatic?”

Max sighs, as if Daniel is being really annoying. “He is from Melbourne. And yeah, he is okay I think. Maybe you won’t like him though, because you like always to be the funniest one. Come on, I will show you to your guest room.”

Daniel manages a casual-sounding, “Haha, you got me.” They’re walking through the apartment, now, Max leading the way. For a moment Daniel just watches the sunburned back of his neck.

#my fic #DO straight people allow seb vettel to defend their honour in the media? #maxiel #mv33 #dr3 #getting back on the posting horse please clap #divorce era one of the most interesting of the potential eras imo #future fic

[night-dazai]

Hi !! i got this idea while looking at a picture of dazai, i suggest you a pm dazai x reader x ada dazai smut 👀👀 i'm hungry for dazai 😭 please can you write me one? 🙏🙏🙏

Hey all I am sorry that I have not been posting for a week, college is too rough on me I have nothing done I am sorry😭😭😭 I will update all requests soon and the box is always open for more spice!

Tags: threesome, ass and pussy fucking, female reader, slapping, nipple play, rough sex, creampies .not proofread

SLAP! Your ass throbbed with pain and pleasure as both of them riled into your cunt and mouth “Bella ~~” one moaned out while the other grabbed your breasts harshly while calling you a whore. It has been hours you were sure but not one of them had any intentions of stopping “pls.. I cannot “ you whined when one took his dick out of your mouth only to get another harsh slap across your ass and a mean hard thrust “ shut it “ one said while the other kissed your passionately “ one more love ~”. His smooth voice wanted you to do more for him but the other made sure you did more for him little did you know they were opposites but one thing they had in common was that not one of them was stopping anytime soon “ Dazai ~~” your moan was horse and rough due to your overused vocals “ yes love/slut” both answers moving their hair from their face. 

FEW HOURS BEFORE : 

“This is a fucking time travel machine !!!” you shouted to your boyfriend, you both were supposed to find the criminal who stole the machine, arrest him and destroy the machine. “Not use it to go to the past !” you shouted while your lover was too excited looking at his surroundings “It sure is the past !” he exclaimed clapping his hands together like a happy kid. You wanted to punch the life out of this man but you could not plus just 24 hours after that you guys will automatically go back to the future or your present. 

For one hour both of you walked the streets of Yokohama seeing your past “That shop “ you said pointing at a candy shop. Dazai giggled “Yeah, after each mission, I would go there right ? Why not get some candy now ?” he asked. Both of you entered the tiny box-like shop but stopped dead in your tracks seeing a brown-haired in a black coat biting his nails instead of the food . “thaa…” you stammered while Dazai smiled but it was a sad one, before any one of you could act you already made eye contact with him “Port mafia executive Osamu Dazai “ you mumbled holding your lover's hands tightly. 

You did not know if it was excitement or what “Hi!” your lover said walking towards the confused-looking younger Dazai. He looked at Dazai for one second turned his head towards you and kept staring “That's rude “ you said smiling. “Marry me “ was all the younger Dazai said making your lover laugh “Yeah only after a few years, still I am yet to go there but we can get there, “ he said. 

Everyone in the shop was curious as to the twin-looking people but the executive seemed to be a bit too calm “Explanation? Ability?” he asked calmly. Dazai explained the whole situation but left out important parts like how he no longer was a pm member. You thought he would think you guys were lying but for some reason, the Dazai and Dazai had some weird way of communicating.

After listening to your lover he rubbed his chin processing the information going through his head “So, you are the future me, this girl is our lover and she is an ordinary citizen (which is a lie your lover told him for safety “). And now you are stuck here for 24 hours ?” “More like 22 or 21 hours “ you corrected putting your tea cup down “Wanna spend time together ?” you asked. 

You knew Dazai from his mafia days, you were following him ( you were a detective in ADA ) but little did you expect to fall for him and seeing his younger self made you want to know him as a person and not some living person you read from a file. 

The Executive gave you one more weird look “ wanna go to my house ?” he asked. Dazai went quiet for one moment and then agreed, you had just decided to follow them both for the day and that's how you ended up in his house, stuck between both of them as you guys watched “TV “.

Both of them squeezed you as you sat with tense muscles when you felt a hand on each of your thighs, confused you looked at both trying to remove it but they didn't budge “ Dazai …???” “Why not have some fun with me ?” the executive asked smirk plastered on his face “Well you can never be as good as me, “ Dazai said squeezing you and making you shut and open your eyes “Then Why not find out “ the younger Dazai felt challenged and you could feel the cold air but you seemed to have no say plus both are your lover right ?? (you were confused ).

That's how you ended up on the large queen size bed of the mafia executive while your lover lay on it calling you to lie on his chest “I am removing them “ the executive said pulling your jeans in one pull and dragging your panties halfway done while the other kissed you making you look at him. 

“This is something new for you right ..so wet “ he said licking your juices. That's when reality hit you “What were you doing ?!!! Your lover is okay with this ??” but you could not think or talk as a whimper escaped your mouth feeling the executive move his tongue in your cunt while your lover had your top naked making you completely naked. 

“Bella~~~” he moaned pinching and twisting your nipples leaving hot wet kisses down your neck and back. Shivering you held the hair of the executive “Slow” you said as his to slow his mean pace of tongue. 

Not did you unknowingly encourage him to go faster he had you cumming 4 mins after you said that and it was a strong orgasm. Your lover laid you down on the bed and switched positions with his past self, positing at your wet throbbing cunt “In love “ voice dripping with lust he moved his entire length in. 

Breathing hard and whimpering you moved to his thrust when you felt a hand on your jaw “Put this to use love “ the mafia said shoving it and making you choke. It was hard and rough the way both of them handled you but also felt similar and … good….

Your jaw hurts and you have cum 3 or 4 times your hazy did not know “Come on the move “ your lover hissed slapping your thighs as you stopped shaking your hips to match his rough, up shots “Can… can't” you thought crying tears which mixed with your drool and cum dripping from your jaw as the mafia executive kept abusing your poor mouth. 

“ You can and will “ the executive said one last time holding your jaw tighter and shooting in your mouth for the nth time. As he pulled out your lover pulled out of your cunt, both holes leaked white cum of his and yours mixed cum and drool and juices. 

It was nasty and wet but satisfying “Switch?” the mafia Dazai asked as your lover agreed and then again you were on all fours as they did the same after cleaning their cum from both holes. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head when you suddenly noticed the mirror next to you. You could see yourself getting fucked at both ends, embarrassment flooded your mind and your body reacted “Don't tighten suddenly you slut “The mafia Dazai slapped your ass making you jerk from the reaction. 

The look in his eyes is animal-looking and soo predatorial, unlike your sweet lover. Noticing the path of your eyes was not to the liking of your lover who pulled his dick out of your mouth “Eyes on me Bella “ his voice was firm and stern but still warm unlike the person fucking your cunt. 

He suddenly kissed you, it was rougher than before and more harsh grip on your chin. ADA Dazai stared at PM Dazai “Oh… I see “ the executive said giving more mean thrusts making you jerk up and fall off your hands landing on your lover's lap crying and holding his thighs “ suck me off “ he ordered eyes not on you but the man fucking you. 

It felt hot, your sweet lover who had a rough fucking style was always still warm to you but suddenly became 100 times hotter as you got fucked by his past self. You eagerly sucked his tip massaging his balls while he put his head back “Yeah deeper “ he ordered pushing you a little deeper. 

Time flew like a second and you had cum thrice on both their cocks while they still seemed to have enough energy to ravishingly enjoy you two more times “Please…..no more” you begged but they were having none of that. Both were focused on giving you pleasure more than the other when suddenly one of them would make you look into the mirror and spread your pussy opening it with his fingers as his cock was in “See… see how this slutty hole is sucking me in “.

As you turned your head to stop looking from the view your lover would have your mouth used again and again as he played with your nipples like they were a toy. 

Suddenly your lover pulled you up your back in his chest as he positioned his dick at your asshole while the other Dazai got in front of your cunt “I heard this feels too good” he said and both entered you at the same time forcing you to see your fucked out messy face in the mirror asking you “ who is better ?” 

HOURS LATER : 

Kunikada sat with the most worried expression on his face you sat down panting while your lover just sat next to you smiling “Are you alright ?” he asked rubbing your back you would flinch making the blonde look at you more worried but he removed his hand. 

Yosano smiled and patted your head “ wanna rest in the office “ she offered as you nodded weakly and walked up with her help. “ Get lost “You slapped your lover's hand when he offered but he smiled and just watched you walk limping “What happened “ the blonde asked again “Nothing…..she just met me again for the very first time “ he said smiling a bit weird. 

“Dazai have you gotten a bit shorter ?” Kunida asked suddenly asking him to look at him for the first time after getting back from the past “No..why ?” Dazai asked but the blonde was gone when his phone rang “How is she ?” the caller asked “A little better but I think we should go easy on her “ the smile still plastered on his face “You should have gone easy on her “You lover shouted hanging up “ well maybe …next time “ 

#bungo stray dogs fanart #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai smut #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x chuuya #bsd #bungo gay dogs #soukoku #dazai fanart #dazai bsd #dazai x fem reader #dazai #dazai osamu smut #night dazai #dazai x reader smut #dazai x reader fluff #dazai x reader x chuuya #dazai x reader angst #dazai osamu x reader #bsd fluff #bungou stray dogs x reader

[ze0re]

❝ 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘 ! ❞ - 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒. 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏 𝐡𝐜

⇨⚠︎︎ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 !¡⚠︎︎⇦ riding, thigh riding, choking, ass smacking, dom!gojo, bottom!reader, black!reader

𝐀𝐍. welcome to day one my spooky ghosts! 👻 i will try my hardest to write long stories to keep yall satisfied but again cant make any promises. but if they are short i still hope you guys like the plot! enjoy 🎃.

- 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐭..𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧.

- 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

You were a famous super model that did runways around Japan, as Satoru was a famous face around Shibuya. You were currently ontop of him with his hand caressing his favorite spot ever..your ass as he was scrolling through instagram with a small hum. You were raking your nails through his white hair also scrolling through your phone laughing at a post that popped up on your feed. As Satoru was scrolling down and down he came across your insta post..

He felt his entire state of mind clog up. He bit his bottom lip, side glancing your way to see you lost in your phone swiping through twitter liking memes. He hummed lowly, adjusting his sitting by leaning back against the couch more, opening his legs more into his man spread squeezing your ass. You didn’t think much of it till you felt his hand start rubbing up and down. You shuttered from his touch, clenching your phone in hand still trying to ignore it, Satoru leaned towards your ear with a grin, “You still got that cow boy hat?” He questioned, at first you were confused till it clicked.

Your insta post.

You bit your bottom lip, turning off your phone, sitting up straight making eyes contact with his blue orbs. They looked hungry. You hummed continuing to rake your nails through his hair, slighting lifting up his bangs out of his face, “It’s in the room on my top shelf. Why?.” You asked watching him click his tongue, “Go grab it for me.” You raised a brow, sighing in response before getting up off his lap towards your guys shared room to grab the hat. When you got to your shelf, you grabbed the black cow boy hat making your way back to the living room. You smirked, walking your way towards him getting back on his lap, placing the black hat on his head staring at him, “Why you need?” You questioned, he grinned gripping your hips leaning up to whisper.

“Ride me.”

-

-

-

Oh fuck..

Moans and grunts were being heard throughout the room as long as with skin clapping together as you rode ontop of him. You whimper feeling him push deep inside of you, slapping your ass every now and then at the feeling of you tightening around him. He still had the cow boy hat on as he fucked you slow and right, he growled feeling you scratch his shoulder with your nails. “You like that?.” You nodded your head still bouncing on top of him, with small pants trying to get off but he wasn’t letting you. Satoru grinned at the lack of speech lifting his hips to meet with your ass watching as your eyes rolled back from pleasure. You whined gripping his shoulder, grinding against him to get him to move faster, “Toru..move faster please.” You begged with a small pant leaving after watching as a raised brow made it to his face, “You want me to go faster?.” He questioned, you nodded your head. He hummed before stopping his motion hearing you whine again from lack of movement, he smirked sitting more against the couch taking his hands off you before saying..

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

He was mocking youuuu.

You clenched around his length, feeling your heart beat race. You scoffed at the teasing, but gained enough courage to grab the cowboy hat placing it on your headgrin. “Ride a cowboy, fuck a cowgirl.” You moaned, starting to bounce on top of him like you’re riding a horse. Satoru moaned lowly throwing his head back feeling you on top of him, and your nails raking down his chest. His hands were still by his side itching the urge to grab your hips and fuck you himself but you’re riding him so fucking good he couldn’t. You smirked seeing his eyes close from pleasure, you trailed your hand towards his neck, placing it on top wrapping your hand around it. His eyes snapped open at the feeling but groaned feeling you grip it, you loved choking him when you were on top. Satoru snickered at the pressure on his neck feeling his cock twitch.

He was about to cum.

“Fuck baby..you f’make me cum if you keep chokin me like that.” He chuckled, moaning a little feeling you squeeze again. You smiled leaning towards his ear, “Then cum for me pretty boy.” You whispered trailing your lips to take his into your mouth rough kissing him. Satoru’s eyes furrowed and rolled back feeling you move ontop of him faster than before, he shot his hands up to your hips, groaning and grunting into your mouth as he moved your hips down more deeper onto his cock. You squealed into his mouth pulling back to release your pants and moans but Satoru only chased your lips placing them back onto yours. One thing about him he loved drowning out your sounds when you tried to release them, he moved and moved your hips along with his thrusting, soon gripping them feeling his orgasm hitting. He kept your lips with his as he kept moving your hips, you felt that familiar knot in your stomach gripping his shoulders, digging your nails into them. When he his orgasm was about to hit he lifted you off him feeling his sperm hit his stomach and your thigh. Your eyebrows furrowed feeling yourself loose your orgasm, as he pulled back from your slight swollen lips with a smirk spotting your upset face. “Satoru.” You whined irritatingly at the thought of you loosing your orgasm. Satoru didn’t say anything but placed you on his thigh, you looked at him confused but soon enough it clicked. There’s no way he wants me to..”Wanna cum? Ride my thigh.” You looked at him with widened eyes, clenching your fists. You bit your lip in embarrassment but sighed in defeat, whatever Satoru says he means it.

No going back.

You slowly started to move your hips along his leg feeling his soft skin get drenched in your juices with soft moans escaping your mouth. Your eyes fluttered close concentrating on your movements to hit your orgasm, luckily it was quickly building back up from the lost moments ago. You moved along his leg more faster and needier feeling that knot come back, “Toru..” You moaned as he raised a brow with that same grin watching as you tried to cum from his leg, “Hm?” He hummed, you panted softly clenching his leg into your hand moving harder against it. “M’finna cum..” You moaned feeling yourself about to spill, he chuckled. “Then cum for me.” Right as he said that you moaned loudly with a squeal feeling you cum down his leg all to the floor. Satoru felt his cock twitch again at the sight of your shaking frame as you came on his leg, when he seen you’ve gotten done he lifted you back onto his lap standing up to drag both of you to your shared room. You know what was gonna happen next as you tried to get out of his hold with a scream, “Satoru no! I’m tired!.” You pleaded hearing him laugh in response keeping a tight grip on you, “This is your fault pretty. “Save a horse, Ride a cowboy” right?.”

“Satoru!.”

#jujutsu kaisen #{ 🖋️} writings #black reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #smut #gojo x black y/n #satoru gojo #gojo smut #gojo x black reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #kinktober #day 1

[clavissionary-position]

ɪ ᴋ ᴇ ᴍ ᴇ ɴ ᴘ ʀ ɪ ɴ ᴄ ᴇ CLAVIS × READER 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬: 𝐀 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

✦. 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘 fluff, slice of life 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗦 1200+ 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 These are the three ficlets I posted earlier collected in one place ^^ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 slight suggestive content (MDNI)

01. "Amoureux"

"I'd like the records to reflect how very much against this I am."

"There is no record. No one will ever know the horrible acts of villainy I'm subjecting you to here today. Feel free to scream if you'd like." Tying his cravat seemed a lot simpler in theory. Clothing shouldn't require this much finesse. But it only heightens your respect for this marvelous man. "How come it's fine for me to take it off but not put it on?"

A lifetime of frowning couldn't account for the devastating pitch of his brows. "It's a matter of principle. This right here goes against everything a gentleman stands for."

"Would you rather stand up while I do this then?" Cue a perfectly-timed squeeze of the legs around his waist.

"Normally I'd delight at the idea of you clinging to me like a marsupial. My beloved, my twinkle-thighed accomplice. But these are far from normal circumstances. My love. O' cruel warden of my heart. I dress myself specifically so you can do the undressing without issue."

"You must be mortified if you're resorting to insulting your beloved."

"Words in my mouth. Wouldn't you rather just kiss me instead? Make a cravat of my tongue? Please, darling. Sweetheart. Feel free to touch me to your heart's content. Just not inappropriately like this."

Okay, the knot seems to be cooperating. "This is what lovers do."

"Correction: this is what boring, run-of-the-mill, unimaginative, Chev-esque—mmmmmnnfphhh...mmmm?"

"You'll get the second half of that kiss if you behave."

Breathless. Sunset colors on the apples of his cheeks. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because sometimes I get jealous of all the parts of you that your hands get to touch and I don't."

"..."

"Did I break you?"

"..."

"Blink once if you're still alive."

Blink.

"Okay, good. I'm done by the way. What do you think?"

"It's..." He clears his throat. He pointedly refuses your gaze. The line of his lips fights against a series of twitches. "Is this how you felt when you first saw my cooking?"

02. "Jeter l'éponge" feat. Cyran

"I think she wants you to stop."

"Hahaha! Oh, she's far too smitten for that. Besides, she hasn't kicked me in the face yet."

Cyran's exasperation alone crowds the stables. Only once he nears the first stall (holding Chevalier's stallion) does his tread slow. Each subsequent step, while pointed toward Clavis, seems more inclined toward the horses to his side. By stall three his expression has more in common with the bubbly spring air outside than the retreating sun at its back.

Clavis assumes he's safe in the meantime. Until a hand claps his shoulder. Cyran's other hand pries the brush from him mid-stroke. "I groomed her when we returned from town earlier."

Irritation mars Clavis' features for a cloudy half-second. His face recomposes just as quickly, elastic from a lifetime of faking. He rips the brush back in a flourish causing the bay mare between them to sigh almost human-like. "Nothing warms my heart more than when my favorite knight and favorite horse get along, but this is my special bonding time."

Cyran stares as if he's unsure why he lets Clavis finish his sentences. He seizes the brush back. "You never come by at this hour."

Clavis slips the brush back before Cyran realizes what's happened. "Think of it as a surprise inspection."

Cyran yanks the brush and Clavis narrowly avoids smooching a horse. "Leave her out of your procrastinating, please."

The brush reappears in Clavis' hand. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Snatch. "I rather think you—"

The horse whinnies, her tail swishing against her manger and dislodging a tiny avalanche of grain.

"You're stressing her out!" comes the voice of two idiots in harmony.

The horse throws a look so tormented it may as well have found itself in an enemy camp.

Cyran is the first to stand down. He tucks his hair behind his ear and fixes Clavis with a softer, pitying expression. "The bumps are gone. I triple-checked. She's perfectly fine."

"I think she could stand to be a bit more shiny. It won't do for her beautiful master to outshine her."

"Clavis."

"I'm not procrastinating. I sent the formal request before coming here."

"That's not what Lucian tells me."

"Then I'm pleased to know that even Lucian misses things sometimes." A hint of surprise glitters in Clavis' eyes.

Cyran puffs his cheeks before sighing. He idly toys with the hilt of the sword at his belt. A long moment passes. "Okay. Fine. I'll leave you to it, then."

Clavis claps Cyran's shoulder this time, stopping him. "So you'll help me?"

"With what?"

"Picking out the best fabric. For the outfit."

"The outfit for your lover or..." Cyran glances to the side. "...for the horse?"

"For the horse of course." Clavis produces a sketchbook from who-knows-where. "There's no better way to celebrate a full-recovery than with a brand new outfit."

Cyran stares as if he's really, really unsure why he lets Clavis finish his sentences. Ever.

03. "Être Fleur Bleue"

"Trust me, I know what I'm..."

Ah. He's crying isn't he.

If he doesn't raise his head soon the kitchen counter is going to leave a very unfriendly dent on his forehead.

The big, beautiful baby.

"Can you cry onto the cake?"

"Hahaha! I'm not crying." A moment later: "...What?"

Some vindictive part of you enjoys his unusual de-spirited reticence.

That part is small. In truth, your heart weighs in your chest like a cradle withstanding lonely cries.

"You've flavored your cakes with everything under the sun except your tears, right?" With your back to him, you un-cloche the exotic, three-tiered monstrosity on the opposite counter.

His voice comes out nasally. "...And blood... technically..."

Over your shoulder: "Hard pass on that one, my dear."

"Mm, say that again?" His voice is clearer this time. He may have glanced up.

"Later." Ah. You're blushing aren't you.

"Okay. Later." You know he says it more for his sake. "I haven't explored any bodily-fluid-flavored—"

"Less brainstorming and more crying onto this cake!"

His forehead is back on the counter. You hover the cake in the space below his face. You can't see his tears, but the cake can, and that's enough.

"...You'd still eat it if I cried onto it?" That tiny, frail voice you so rarely heard.

"I'm not exactly keen on it, but I also don't know anything else I'd rather eat right now."

His back flinches with the sudden choking phenomenon that seizes him.

"Are you okay?"

He nods. "Tip-top." He takes a scoop of the cake onto the tip of his forefinger. Then he brings it to his face, and still keeping his head glued to the counter he awkwardly fishes his finger through the air up toward you.

You didn't think he'd actually do it.

You didn't think you'd actually close your mouth around his finger.

He moans. You moan. Well, this is embarrassing.

And then you're both laughing. The cake goes back on the counter. Your arms wrap around his bent-over figure. Your cheek rests over his rib-cage. Your ears listen for his beautiful laughter.

His back rises slightly with his heavy, shaky inhale. "It's not every day a beauty as such as you gets to enjoy a treat as scrumptious as me."

You scoff, gently stroking his back and playing with the hair at the base of his neck. "What are you talking about? That's literally every day with you."

"Stop. I'm going to cry."

You peck one of his vertebrae through his coat. "Good thing there's so much cake."

✦✦✦✦ Thank you for reading <3

#ikepri clavis #clavis lelouch #ikepri #ikemen prince #ikepri clavis x reader #clavis lelouch x reader #cyran rose #ikepri cyran

[wastefulreverie]

Damon wasn't used to working at Town Hall It was a different environment from the quiet halls of Axion Labs, bustling with local board members and other administration. But Mayor Masters had offered a great sum of money for him to leave his position at Axion and come to work in his private security detail at Town Hall. He thought Valerie might have had something to do with it, but when he told her about the promotion she'd clammed up—just surprised as he'd been.

He wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. It seemed that he was beginning to bounce back from his demotion.

Damon was posted outside of Mayor Masters' office. He had a straight shot view of foot-traffic through the building and had the mayor's schedule memorized to the minute. That's when he heard a second voice in the office behind him, it was strange. Mayor Masters was supposed to be alone and no one had made it past Damon. No one was scheduled to be meeting with the mayor now and that was far too loud to be from a phone or computer.

"—pleasure to see you, little badger. Now, what is it this time?"

"You could have warned me." The other voice, a familiar young man Damon couldn't place, said. "How do I stop this? I can't show my face to anyone! Not my parents, not anyone at school. I'm done for."

Despite the young man's urgent tone, the mayor laughed. "Please, Daniel. You're being melodramatic. After all, what's a few extra teeth?"

"Don't you fucking dare."

"I thought you wanted my help? Or did you come here to gripe?"

"You don't get to tell me I'm being dramatic. You know a way to hide this. Just tell me."

"What's in it for me?"

"Me not using these stupid new teeth on your neck."

"Oh, I'm just shaking in my boots!" His voice was nothing short of facetious. "That'll get me, for sure."

"I'm not kidding around, Plasmius. Tell me how to hide this. I don't have time to waste here."

"Mm, yes. But as you can see, I also don't have the time to waste. You've caught me at a bad time at my job." The mayor rustled some papers. "I have to earn a living like everyone else, you know."

"All your money is stolen!"

Damon almost choked.

"You see, it's those sort of accusations that get you in trouble, Daniel." He paused. "Maybe if you were a little wiser with your words, I'd be able to help you with that little problem of yours. A shame."

Something fell and there was a sudden THUMP.

"I haven't gotten my wisdom teeth yet. But then again, I wasn't aware I had to worry about this set first. So I'll ask one more time before I blast it out of you." His voice was slow and articulated. "How do I hide this?"

Damon didn't like the sound of that.

He turned around and threw open the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Danny Fenton—son of the town's ghost hunters and Valerie's friend from school—had the mayor pressed against the wall in a choke-hold. Mayor Masters didn't seem any bit worried about it, and seemed rather amused until he spotted Damon. Danny was wearing a blue sweater and was noticeably a good two feet shorter than the mayor. Physically, it should be impossible for someone of his size to get the upper-hand on a man like Mayor Masters, yet he maintained his hold on him even as he turned to see who was at the door.

When Danny's striking blue eyes met Damon's own, he dropped Mayor Masters. The Mayor steadied himself well, feet landing even on the floor.

"Mr. Gray." Danny was a shade paler than he had a moment ago and when he spoke two prominent canines jutted out from his upper lip. "I swear it isn't what it looks like."

Mayor Masters clapped a hand on Danny's shoulder with a smile.

"Ah, Damon! I was just teaching Daniel here some self-defense." Here, Danny recoiled from the mayor's touch like he'd been burned. "With that bumbling father of his, heaven knows he needs it."

"What did you just say," Danny growled.

The mayor's smile widened. "Your services won't be needed for the rest of the day, I'm afraid. You can go ahead on home."

"But," he did the math in his head, "there's still three more hours left on my shift."

"You'll still be compensated for the full time," Mayor Masters assured. "Enjoy the afternoon. And please do shut the door on your way out. Daniel and I need some time alone."

Damon didn't like the way he said that at all.

But, this was his boss.

And if Danny Fenton had shown anything, it was that he could handle his own.

(That didn't make it not weird.)

If Damon turned his two weeks notice in at the end of the week, it had nothing to do with the conversation he'd interrupted at all. After all, he did prefer the quiet halls of Axion Labs.

#thinking that after val learns vlad's secret vlad tries to move damon closer to him as leverage #but obv damon realizes something is fucking weird about vlad and nopes tf out of there #Danny Phantom #Vlad Masters #Danny Fenton #Vlad Plasmius #Damon Gray #Danny Phantom Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Phic #Phicc #wrwritings

[retroactivebakeries]

miraculous arcs as dril tweets (revised)

Gatekeeper: im sensing some major bullshit coming from the graveyard

Gatecrasher: my friend the only crypto currency you wanna get your hands on is this: bird seed. There is a lot of birds and they all gotta eat.

Wounded Angel: i'm truly thankful towards Irritable Bowel Syndrome for becoming an integral component of my identity and shaping me into the man i am today

Allegory: not many people know this, b ut i actually coined the term "Lunchtime". before then, time and lunch were two entirely immeasurable concepts,

Become Somebody: i am a Teen and that's somethjing i have to live with for the rest of my life.

Star Quality: night time falls. im "corie latin" now. a man of intrigue. i place a bird feather into my glass of scotch and i never do posts about my dick

Child of the Ash: i am skeptical of the concept "Too Big To Fail" mainly because i am extremely big and i fail constantly

Spiritual: all rise for the national anthem, of Jeans

Called Away: Imagine. A world where guns come out of the ground like plants. And all the water is replaced by Bullet's. This is Gun World. It's real

Creature of the Light: every now and then i like to treat myself to a bit of "Lying under oath"

Creature of Fable: THE COP GROWLS "TAKE OFF TH OSE JEANS, CITIZEN." I COMPLY, REVEALING THE FULL LENGTH DENIM TATTOOS ON BOTH LEGS. THE COP SCREAMS; DEFEATED

Creature of Delirium: if you "clap back" someone with a PhD on here, you should be allowed to have their PhD. Its just common sense people. Oh that's tea

Chosen One: im 14 year s old and im already more psychic than my dad

The Ace: i feel like getting shot would;nt be that bad if you knew how to properly "body spin " away from the bullet or slap it away with your hand

Reality Syndrome: BARBARO IS BACK, THE ONCE DEAD REACEHORSE IS BACK TO LIFE AND TEARING UP THE HORSE TRACK LIKE NEVER BEFORE, "THE SECRET" WORKS,THANK U OPRAH A Keeper of Gardens: ask me anything u please, as long as its about my ambitious plan to build a castle in the Jungle for the apes to live in, called "Ape House" Sentimental: every pitbull dog contains a hidden set of skills known as the "Master Skills". the only two men who can unlock them are me and Elon Impresario: (in highly rational and cool voice) i have the higher follower count than them. i wiont let them undermine me Indomitable: IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL Troubled: *enrolls in psychology major* finnally. this will give me the upper hand in dealing with trolls *fails all courses* college is fake actually Accursed: (dismissing waitress handing me the check with a hand wave) no thank you. i dont believe in any of that Primordial: i;m now getting surgery to completely become a Brand. all bothersome human elements (ability to get mad, go to toilet, etc) will be, removed Prophet: guy who invented Prayer: This is so sick. Im going to get so much free shit from god. This is the cleanest scam yet. So glad I invented this Awakening: i nneed constant 24/7 stream of memes and jokes about coffee being good to prove to myself im not living in rthe Fucking matrix

#cmwge #nobilis #glitch #glitchrpg

[look-at-the-soul]

Tell me again please

Holacia note: Mar!!! Congratulations on your follower celebration 🎉 I really wanted to write something sweet for you and I swear this was a cute idea when I first thought of the starting point, but then the characters started arguing with me and it ended this way 😬😭🤦‍♀️

Note from Mar: So my dear Cia (tumblr user holacia) was kind to participate in my followers celebration (including Cyril in this amazing story), and she also allowed me to post and share with you guys!!!! So this is NOT my story, I’m just posting it on her behalf and with her permission, all credits go to the incredible author and I will share your comments with her 💕

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Wordcount: ~1500

Warnings: fluffy at parts, sad and disappointing at other parts LOL // minimal editing because I wanted to get this out

*********

“Tell me again please! Tell me about my father,” the giggles from your little one making you smile as you walked towards the shops from your quiet home in Small Heath. You look down at the sweet girl holding your hand and roll your eyes dramatically at her as if her request was a burden…but sharing the soft memories of her absent father are the only way she gets to experience him so you start the fairytale once again.

“Well once upon a time, there was a young girl who loved the animals around her,” you give a gentle squeeze on her tiny hand as you nod your face towards a carriage horse with a smile. Your daughter makes a loud gasp, her eyes lighting up as pieces of the story began to come true around her.

“The girl did whatever she could to make the dogs and the cats and the horses in her town happy,” you continue.

“I do that too!” your little one exclaims with pride.

“Yes, I know you do baby,” you reply, your eyes scanning the scene of other families, workers, street cars and carriages. You lead your girl along the side of the road towards a small grassy area with a bench to watch the town’s traffic pass by.

“Anyway, this girl was walking back from school one day when she saw some boys doing something very wrong,'' you pause dramatically as you brush down the skirt of her dress after helping her onto the bench, “these boys were throwing rocks at a little street dog, yelling after this puppy and really scaring the poor creature.”

Your daughter’s eyes go wide with disbelief as if hearing this tale for the first time, the tiniest pout forming on her lips.

“But why would they do that mama?” the worry evident in her shaking voice.

“I don’t think those boys had learned to be kind yet, and so the girl marched right up to them and told them to stop hurting the dog.” You watch her eyebrows pinch together in agreement and nod her chin decisively up and down as you move along the story. “And just when those boys thought about being rude to the little girl, a taller boy from across the street joined her. This new boy told them to listen to her, that they’d be sorry if they kept bothering the street dog.”

You gaze from your place on the wooden bench to watch neighbors and strangers alike hurry along their way, carrying groceries, babies, and lunchpails to their next destination.

“As they checked to see that the pup was going to be alright, the girl and new boy quickly decided to be friends.”

“Mama, you are the little girl? And that boy is my father?” she asks you with a knowing smile.

You playfully scrunch your nose at her before kissing her cheek, “That’s right smart girl, that’s your daddy!” She giggles and claps her hands, delighted at the simple fairytale.

“What is daddy’s name?” she asks you, the way she always asks you after hearing how you and her father met.

You slowly brush a lock of hair behind her ear, your thumb tracing the side of her cheek as you give her the same answer, “I have a name but you call me Mama, right? So your Daddy has a name, but you don’t have to worry about it since you would just call him Daddy. Does that make sense baby?”

She nods her round face, eyes pointed down at her shoes.

Her quiet demeanor breaks your heart, wishing she would throw a tantrum at your vague answer for wanting to know more about her father. Instead, she begins to sing a song softly as memories of your past flood behind your eyes.

Flashes of enjoying meals at each other’s homes, walks around town when school was on break, and sneaking away to ride his family’s horses make you chuckle. Memories of turning to him after a big fight with your family, the day he and his brothers left for the war, the kiss you shared once he came back home make your eyes water.

You pull your daughter against your side and relish in the feeling of her leaning against you, the warmth passing between you both a stark contrast against a final memory you can’t help but torture yourself with once more.

The roaring black rain clouds almost hide the sob that escapes your lips, but you know that he heard you as he looks down on you in silence, your tears joining the raindrops down your face.

“Tell me again please! Tell me why you can’t be with me,” you shout, hands grasping at the front of his coat like a beggar. He whispers your name, the blue of his eyes icy and serious, as he wraps his hands over your wrists to pull you off of him. You stand there mouth agape as he holds your arms between you two, the force of his grasp the only warmth you register in your body as the storm rages on, drowning your clothing and skin in coldness.

You notice him swallow thickly, the walls he placed between you shaking at their false foundation for a brief moment, and you know he is lying to you. “Tommy,” you cry, “Tommy, why are you doing this to us?”

His eyes close as he offers you the closest thing to an apology he has, “Do I look like a man who wants a simple life?” You see the coldness return when he opens his eyes, and you know you’ve lost him.

The pull on your sleeve brings you back to the present, and you find your girl pointing along the path in the park towards a couple of figures - a man wearing a peaky cap walking with a great big dog.

“Mama! Please let me say hello to that dog,” your little one implores, her patience paper-thin as she pulls on your hand. You check your surroundings once more and squint back towards the stranger walking in the direction of you and your daughter.

“We can ask the dog’s owner if it’s alright for you to say hello,” your voice steady as she bounces in place. You take her hand and follow the park’s walkway, waving politely at the man before quickly reminding your girl about her manners.

The stranger’s pace slows for a moment before he marches along as before, his Mastiff matching his steps with a wagging tail at the sight of the small child ahead. You look forward again and see his face clearly for the first time and stop in your tracks, pulling your girl back towards you instinctively.

Tommy and his dog reach you, his eyes memorizing the two of you as you find your voice, “Hello there.”

“Hello to you both,” his voice soaking your ears like warm honey. He catches the smallest of the group staring at the hound intently, so he crouches down to her level and asks her if she would like to give Cyril a pet.

“Yes please!” she whoops, dropping your hand immediately to rush closer to the big dog.

“Tommy!” you cry right away, reaching for your little one.

“It’s alright love, she’s safe. Cyril’s nothing more than a teddy bear,” he says looking up to you, standing to his full height after watching the child and animal make it past their introductions.

You and Tommy stand to the side as the scene unfolds before you - another animal lover creating a new childhood memory with a gentle dog. You both watch for a few moments before you break the silence, your voice calmer than your traitorous heartbeat.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while.” You cross your arms across your chest, keeping your eyes on your daughter.

“Business took me to London for the last few weeks,” he mentions casually, yet you still detect a rare sense of weariness in him.

“We saw Ada the other week at the market,” you share, not knowing why you continued to parade like distant acquaintances with the man who broke your heart. “Little girl almost lost her mind when your sister gave her a flower to bring back home.”

Tommy turns sharply to face you, his feet moving him closer to you than what’s politely acceptable between strangers. Your head swivels towards him in return with a frown, your hands rubbing against your elbows at his proximity.

“Tell me again please,” he starts, “why can’t I be with you and our daughter?”

“Lower your voice Tommy,” you warn, checking back to see your girl still enthralled with her new playmate. Tommy reaches for your arm, the warmth of his hand heating your skin through the fabric of your clothes.

You take a step back and watch his arm hover at the loss of you before letting his arm fall back down to his side. He shakes his head, glancing at his child laugh at Cyril’s tricks before drawing his cigarette case from his pocket.

“I had nearly fucking everything,” he mutters with the cigarette between his lips.

“You did have everything Tommy,” you correct him, “and you threw it all away.”

*******

Cia’s notes: Soooo I apologize 😂 I am trying to think of AUs of this little family where they live happily ever after but part of my evil writer brain has also thought of all the stupid things Tommy has done to throw away his life with reader 😆😈

Mar notes: Cia firstly I want to thank you for participating once more! This was a beautiful road to memory lane and you linked the theme so perfectly with Cyril! It must be so hard for everyone not to be together, but the way you made the story unfold was beautiful!

The memories of how Y/N met Tommy, so gentle so kind… and now seeing their daughter do the same with Cyril oh stop! 🥺😭 I’m a sobbing mess!

I can’t stop but wonder, did Tommy know they would be walking over there? How many times before have they met like that?

“It’s alright love, she’s safe. Cyril’s nothing more than a teddy bear,”- and he is as well!!!! ♥️🥺

He messed up definitely… but he can try to make it better?

Thank you Cia for writing and sharing this beautiful story! And I want to thank you publicly for letting me share this beautiful piece of art with the peaky fam, you are dearly missed around! 🥰✨

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @dandelionprints @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @zablife @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @sydneyyyya

#That’s what Cill said #Holacia notes #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fan fiction

[qdbs-writes]

can I request a part two of Captain America s/o with the same characters, but NSFW this time? They're getting to it but s/o is afraid to hurt them because of his strength and size (interpret that however you like 😅) ty so much <3

omg that super soldier post was so far back ahhh, but here is the og! and nonny i will be interpreting 'size and strength' in the horniest way possible >;)

MK Lads x Male!Super-Soldier!Reader NSFW Scenario

Kung Jin

He'd let you hit with NO PREP NO LUBE with the ride going at FULL SPEED. He knows he'll die, but he'll die happy goddamnit! You could hit him with your car and he would thank you!

Jokes aside, Jin strikes me as having grown up quite sheltered, so I won't bank on him understanding the intricacies of gay sex, even after he comes out and is in a relationship with you.

So hopefully you can teach him a thing or two! Like prep, prep is so fucking vital.

As an ex-Marvel fan, we all know that the super soldier serum works on the whole body, penis included. So please feel free to just drop your jeans if Jin is ever like "Just put it in me", it will silence all opposition.

So your fears of hurting Jin are probably more realistic. One way to get around this would be to let Jin top you for a bit, he'd love to clap your super soldier cheeks!

Granted, Jin isn't nearly as big as you are, about 5 inches erect and 1.8 inches in diameter, but hey, it's not the size of the boat, it's the motion of the ocean.

Takeda Takahashi

If you express your fear of hurting him during sex Takeda will go full heart eyes mode because no one else has been this concerned about his safety in the past.

At the same time, he wants to be fucking annihilated by your cock, your hands, your mouth. You name it, Takeda wants it.

Having the biggest dick he's ever seen, Takeda is gonna want it in his mouth first, starting with coy little licks and nibbles before it all devolves into shamelessly aggressive throat fucking.

Let's imagine for a blissful moment that being a super soldier means you've got buckets of cum in your nutsack. Takeda wants all that cum covering almost every inch of his body: his face, his stomach, his back, his hands, if you've got some leftover, he'd love to feel it trickle down from his hole.

Be warned that Takeda may be so distracted by your super soldier dick that he accidentally gets way too much lube out and unintentionally turns the bed into a fucking slip N slide.

Erron Black

If you stop him in the middle of getting down and dirty to say some shit like "I'm scared I'm too strong and I might hurt you..." Erron's like "This ain't my first rodeo, big boy".

Do you think in his adventures in Outworld that Erron hasn't been fucking huge-cocked, monster people? Because he's been fucking monster people with huge cocks.

His hole? Douched. His cheeks? Waxed. His body? Ready. His soul? Sold. His panties? Fucking gone.

You could hold Erron up by one hand, pushing and pulling him onto your dick like a fleshlight and Erron would have the best time.

Erron's favourite bit is when your cock is so deep in his guts that you can see his stomach bulge at the size of it, he also loves it when you cum super deep and it floods his insides.

If you put 'Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)' on while you are balls deep inside him, Erron will let it slide, unless you can't stop laughing, then he'll be pissy.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat headcanons #mk x reader #kung jin #kung jin x reader #takeda takahashi #takeda takahashi x reader #erron black #erron black x reader #male reader #qdbs writing

[gothicprep]

so, wife and i finally got around to seeing barbie. and neither of us were particularly big fans of it.

stuff i liked. i'll get that out of the way first. i like that it's a huge box office success when theaters have really needed that post-covid. the set design and costumes were just my kind of garish. the opening scene was funny, and you can always count on ryan gosling to give it his all whenever he's cast in anything. and the "patriarchy is when men and horses rule the world" joke made me giggle a bit. the horses in general were an amusing running gag.

and. uh. that's about it really.

i've complained about this before, not with barbie, but i'm not a fan of the "movies that are for children, but not really" thing. usually they're aimed at critics instead, and this is *sort of* that. but also not really. i'm actually not sure who this is for, other than mattel, i guess.

this reminded me a lot of another movie, actually – disney's enchanted. and you could make the argument that the similar premise is responding to the same thing enchanted was. 00s pop feminism that criticized disney princesses usually included barbie in the mix too. and since people liked the meta aspect of enchanted back in '07, we've ended up with the live action movies that exist to reassure parents in my age group that the rodent empire has heard your cries, and they're aware, so it's fine to bring your kids to this. they've changed and grown as a person if you're going off the mitt romney definition of that word at least. they've changed their stories to reflect that. kinda. the princesses are girlbosses and they don't need a man. please clap.

the problem with applying this formula to barbie is that, unlike characters from an existing story canon – many of which, to be honest, were read very uncharitably during that blip in the culture – barbie is more of a concept. the movie winks at how barbie the idea is basically just whatever people want to project onto it, but it kind of falls into the trap of pointing things out in lieu of making a point. and while i do think that gerwig did the best with this that she realistically could, movies like this aren't in a position where they can thread the needle. after all, they're giving you this IP for a reason.

my wife also pointed out that it muddied the waters a bit to try and grapple with this all in a comedy where all the funniest lines end up going to ryan gosling, simu liu, michael cera, and will ferrell. my counterpoint is that kate mackinnon and hari nef had some great moments, but she's onto something here.

it's really difficult for me to watch something like barbie and really look at it in a vacuum. even though it has a different look than the other IP projects we've begrudgingly come to expect, i feel like i can't separate it from this broader picture of, like, integrity laundering. i went into it with an open mind, but left frustrated with it. you can make an argument for a remake. i guess. but this really shamelessly felt like a commercial.

on the bright side, this mostly negative review won't take away from the fact that this has been a much needed boost for theater attendance. in the end, that's what matters the most to me right now, i think.

[coffeedrgn87]

Rodeo, Oh Rodeo

Pheebs, dearest @phoebe-delia. Please accept something cheerful from me to keep you smiling. 1200 words of cowboy Drarry for my one and only Tom. It will naturally find its way onto AO3 but for now, I am tired and require beauty sleep. Dragons need quite a lot of that.

Yours, Jerry

DG☕️🐉

Bale bleachers surround the dirt arena with metal fencing separating the audience from what has essentially become a battlefield of wills between cowboys, bulls, and wild horses. A water truck only just sprayed the ground to lessen the dust, and flags are flying high. The barrel racers have taken a break, and the riders have chased down the last calves, bringing them back to their pasture to grace. Their unexpected escape caused quite the furore but most definitely added layers of excitement to the festival. It effectively resulted in the cancellation of the steer wrestling, which Harry is kind of glad about because, while this isn’t Draco’s first rodeo, it’s most definitely one of the more lively ones they’ve attended in recent weeks.

It’s late autumn and post-harvest celebrations are in full swing, and everyone’s dressed in traditional garb, which means the cowboys are wearing their best ten-gallon hats, boots, button-down shirts, belt buckles, bandannas, and jeans and chaps. Those competing have numbers pinned to their shirts, colour-coded to let everyone know which event they’ve signed up for.

Three years prior, Harry was one of the attendees, competed in the rodeo, and even won the competition, but he’s not fighting for another title this year. Not for lack of wanting, but rather because he can hardly bring himself to part company with Draco. Heading out for work every day is challenging enough. There’s always that worry that Draco might disappear again just like he did years ago. It’s a stupid thought, and Harry knows as much—he even confided in Draco about that one evening not so long ago—but even though he knows Draco has no plans to leave him ever again, sometimes he can’t quite shake the fear. Those roots run deep and it will take some time to drag them all out.

The feeling is too gloomy for today. It takes a bit of effort to shake it off, but somehow Harry manages. He focuses on the dancefloor and lets the uptempo country music lift him up. Draco somehow senses his melancholy—how, Harry does not know—and before Harry can object, Draco has him by the hand and drags him over to the mechanical bulls. An announcer calls out for willing participants, and Harry finds himself pushed forward. He wants to object, but the announcer is already clapping him on the back, calling him brave and guiding him towards the small arena, rambling something about today’s record currently lying at two minutes and fifty-three seconds and asking whether Harry can beat it. Harry doesn’t really listen. Instead, he glowers at Draco, who smiles at him with a devilish glint in his sparkling silvery-grey eyes.

He’s dressed in a pair of black jeans, grey dragonhide cowboy boots and a blue-and-grey checkered shirt — it’s an outfit that makes Harry’s mouth water, and he can think of a long list of things he’d rather do than riding some fake bull to assert his dominance. Harry swallows, gingerly climbs onto the metallic bull’s back and holds onto his cowboy hat as he does so. He gets a moment to seat himself, and moving one hand behind his back, Harry holds on to the handle and relaxes into the saddle. He inhales deeply and savours the scent of dust, horses, hay, leather, sweat, and animal dung. Somewhere, food is being fried in oil, and the smell of fresh popcorn wafts over to him.

The mechanic bull starts moving, and at first, it’s a gentle ride, but barely thirty seconds into the madness, the bloody thing starts bucking underneath Harry, and he’s entirely torn between holding on to his hat or letting himself fall off the blasted bull. After a split-second of thinking, Harry does neither.

At around minute one, he does lose his hat, curses under his breath, and starts sliding in the saddle. With no stirrups to aid his balance, Harry uses his body to somehow remain upright — there’s no time for thinking, only reacting. He shifts his gaze and feels his jaw drop when he notices that Draco has undone two buttons on his shirt. The top two buttons were already undone, but now the shirt is so wide open that Harry isn’t sure whether he is dreaming about being able to see Draco’s pert and pink nipples or whether they are actually on full display. Distracted, Harry begins to slide but manages to stay on top. Unfortunately for Harry, Draco licks his lips rather salaciously, and Harry’s throat dries out again. He’d die for an Augamenti right this very second and is almost tempted to cast it wandlessly, but since the mechanical bull is operated by Muggle electricity, Harry ignores his desires.

Draco continues to bait him with slow line dancing, and as Harry desperately tries to cling to his rapidly wounding pride, he can’t help but wonder where the actual fuck Draco learnt to fucking line dance. The moves make Harry’s brain explode, and the mechanical bull works even harder to try and throw him off. It’s as if the daft thing can sense Harry’s distraction. Harry feels sweat trickling down his back and continues his one-armed fight against the bucking bull’s jolt and jar. The device is determined to throw him off, while Draco is determined to stop his heart or something similar.

Harry sucks in a sharp breath and swats at a fly that buzzes around his head.

At precisely two minutes and forty-nine seconds, Draco spins on the heel of his cowboy boot, and Harry takes a tumble. He lands on some old mattresses, coughs at the thick dust, and scrambling to his feet, he grabs his cowboy hat and shoves it back onto his head. As he approaches Draco, he wants to growl a snarky insult at him, but before he can do so, Draco slides one arm around his shoulder and behind his head and the other around his waist. Draco draws him close, so very close and Harry isn’t sure whether the tumble from the rodeo bull made him dizzy or whether it’s Draco’s citrusy aftershave that’s doing the job.

Harry expects to hear some biting taunt, but instead, Draco tips his cowboy hat back just enough to snog him senseless. The unexpected and extremely ardent display of affection scrambles Harry’s mind, and turns it into static. Simply falling forward and against Draco; he decides that he couldn’t care less about who’s watching them and what just happened. He doesn’t want to think about his epic failure—he usually has no trouble making it up to four minutes on those mechanic bulls—and thankfully, Draco is proving to be the perfect distraction. Something tells Harry that Draco has a sly Slytherin plan in the works, but he ignores that warning bell because it’s at that exact moment that Draco swipes his tongue into his mouth, deepening their kiss.

Harry’s mind pretty much goes blank here, except for one thought—well, two, actually—one being that Draco’s kisses are the perfect weapon, and two being that he’s most definitely going to dare Draco to show him his skills on the back of a bull. Although the bull Harry has in mind is entirely different to the one he’s just ridden.

#dg writes #gifts for friends #drarry #cowboy drarry #fluff #yes #for a change it's fluff #all my love #goodnight

[flawedamythyst]

A Bit Of A Clothes Horse

Couldn’t stop thinking about Stede having to build up his wardrobe again, post-Reconciliation.

The fight was all over. The crew of the ship were all subdued by the main mast with Fang and Wee John looking over them, and Jim and Roach had brought up the passengers who had been cowering below decks.

Ed had got in the habit of letting Stede lead this part of proceedings, both to even things up because Ed still insisted on Stede staying back while he took charge during the actual raiding parts, and because it always tickled him pink to see how confused their victims were by Stede’s attitude.

“Good afternoon! I’m Stede Bonnet, the Gentleman Pirate, and I’ll be the one pillaging you today, along with my Co-Captain, the incomparable Blackbeard.”

He made gesture at Ed, which was his prompt to give a little bow and fix anyone who didn’t look sufficiently terrified with the old crazy eyes. There were a couple of gasps, and at least one whimper.

“My crew will be going through the ship for anything of value, but I thought you might like the personal touch for this part of the robbery,” continued Stede. “I wouldn’t want you to think I don’t appreciate your important role in proceedings!”

He beamed around at them. They all just stared back.

“And so, if you’d all just like to remove any jewellery or watches, I’ll come round myself to relieve you of them.” Stede pulled a midnight blue velvet bag out of his pocket, which he’d had Frenchie sew for specifically this purpose, and gave it a little flourish. Ed couldn’t have loved him more.

He did have his own role to play in this part of their pageantry, though, and couldn’t get too distracted by just gazing at Stede with his heart in his eyes. He stepped forward, and glowered at them all. “Don’t even think about holding anything back,” he said. “I’da sooner stab you as look at you, I’d love any fucking excuse.”

There was another whimper and one mildly shocked noise at his language, from a particularly foppish-looking middle-aged man in the front row. Ed made sure to fix his next mad-man-on-the-brink-of-a-rampage glare at him.

“Lovely!” said Stede, clapping his hands as they all slowly started taking off rings and necklaces. “Let’s keep this all nice and easy shall we? The sooner we’ve robbed you blind, the sooner we’ll be on our way and you can start processing through the trauma.”

He started going around the group, bag held out, while Ed stood back and looked threatening, while mostly just admiring Stede’s legs in his special raiding breeches.

“Ah, yes, there we go, just in the bag please, lovely. Oh, I think you’ve just forgotten those earrings, they’re a bit hidden behind your hair, if you could...yes, there we go. Hello, what do you have? That’s lovely, thank you, just- Oh! Oh, Ed, come and look at this.”

Ed tore his eyes away from Stede’s arse and wandered over to see what had caught his eye. He was standing in front of a man who had been standing near the back of the group - cowering, even, if Ed was to give it a name. Stede had his hand on his coat sleeve and was gently stroking in a way that made jealousy instantly flush through the whole of Ed’s body. He fixed a glare at the man that made him blanch white with fear.

“Ed! Touch this!” said Stede, happily oblivious. “Feel how soft it is!”

Ed reached out and gently touched the jacket. “S’that silk?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Stede, “The very highest quality, look at the expert weaving here. And the embroidery! These details are just beautiful.”

Ed looked. The coat was a light blue-green that he’d seen Stede wear before, back before almost all his clothes had ended up in the sea. The embroidery around the lapels and cuffs was in silver, delicately picking out swirls and flourishes.

“This has to have come from Europe,” said Stede. “France, even?”

He looked at the man, who seemed to be frozen stiff as two notorious pirates gently fondled his jacket. “Uh, yes,” he stuttered. “France, exactly. There’s a boutique in Paris I went to, they made it up for me.”

“Paris!” exclaimed Stede and leaned in closer. “Oh gosh! You’ve just come from there?”

The man nodded a few too many times.

“Oh yes, I can see, your cravat, is that Flemish lace? Look, Ed, you can see their distinctive style, here, and here.”

Ed looked, and it just looked like any other bit of lace to him, although maybe a tad daintier. “Looks nice.”

“Yes,” agreed Stede. “It really does.”

He took a step back and eyed the man over. “Would you mind unbuttoning so I can see your waistcoat properly?”

The man clearly did mind but his fingers moved to his jacket buttons anyway, fumbling a couple of times as he opened them. Stede took in the waistcoat underneath and let out a quiet sigh of contentedness that Ed usually only heard in bed. “Oh, look, Ed, periwinkles. So beautifully done!”

Periwinkles turned out to be a kind of flower, tiny and blue. The waistcoat was very fine, and must have taken some poor seamstress hours and hours.

“I suppose if you were in Paris, you took the chance to get a full wardrobe?” Stede said to the man. “I’ve always dreamed of going, visiting all the fashion houses, but I’m sure I’d have to buy a second boat just to bring it all back if I ever did!”

Ed immediately began trying to work out the logistics on getting Stede to Paris with a heap of gold to spend on fancy clothes.

“It was wonderful,” said the man, apparently relaxing slightly as it didn’t seem like he was immediately about to be stabbed. “I spent rather too much, I’m sure my father will be horrified once I’m back in Virginia.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure he will be,” said Stede, still staring at the clothes. He looked the man up and down in an assessing way that made Ed bristle, then said, “What do you think Ed? He’s about my size, isn’t he?”

Ed looked back at the man, who had tensed up again. The coat and waistcoat would fit Stede fine, but the breeches might be a bit tight.

Which was just how Ed liked breeches on Stede, if he were being honest. “Yeah, looks good, mate.”

Stede beamed. “Wonderful! If you could just take everything off, then.”

“What?!”

Stede twirled his hand impatiently. “Come on, come on, all of it off.”

“But...there are ladies present!”

Stede looked over at the handful of women in the party, who were watching proceedings with the same blank stare that everyone else was while the Revenge’s crew moved around them, pulling out all the supplies and other valuables from the hold.

“So there are,” said Stede. “They all looked fairly sensible though, I’m sure they can cope.” He looked back at the man. “Come on, now, I don’t want to have to get bloodstains on any of it.”

That was enough of a threat for the man to start moving, taking off the jacket and handing it to Stede, and then moving to unbutton his waistcoat.

Stede stroked a hand over the coat with obvious delight, then held it up to himself to check the fit. “Oh yes, perfect,” he said happily. “Which cabin is yours?”

“Oh, the second portside one,” said the man, and then hesitated. “Why?”

Stede gave him a blooming grin that Ed could see the edge of devilish amusement to, and wanted to just ravish him there and then. He refrained, mostly to avoid damaging Stede’s new coat and getting into trouble.

“Frenchie!” called Stede. “Can you make sure we get all the clothes in the second portside cabin? You know how to take care of nice fabrics, don’t you?”

“Of course, Captain!” said Frenchie. “I’m on it like a...Stede Bonnet!” He gave a little flourish and hurried off below decks.

The man made a sad little noise and his shoulders dropped. “All of them?” he said mournfully.

Stede patted his shoulder comfortingly. “At least you won’t have to tell your father you spent all his money on clothes. Just tell him you were very frugal and brining most of it back, but it was stolen by a pair of dastardly pirates.” He frowned and rubbed his hand back over the man’s shoulder. “Oh dear,” he said. “This shirt just doesn’t match the quality of the rest of the outfit. You know, it’s false economy to think that just because it’s mostly hidden by the rest, you can buy a cheap shirt for a nice suit. People can always tell.“

Ed had to turn away from the hopeless and bewildered look the man gave Stede or risk starting to laugh and breaking his Blackbeard façade. Instead, he took the velvet bag from Stede and carried on to the rest of the passengers, grabbing anything that looked expensive.

Stede stayed with the man, getting his stockings off him, and then trying on his shoes before reluctantly deciding they were too small for him.

He took them anyway because, “I’m sure someone on the crew can get some use out of them, and the buckles are very elegant.”

Two weeks ago, Stede had let a woman keep a golden locket just because she said it contained the only image she had of her dead child (although he had taken the chain, which was now around Ed’s neck.) Three days ago, he let a crew keep half their gunpowder because, ‘There are some scoundrels in the area, you might need it.’ And yet, today he was stripping a guy to his underwear and literally stealing the coat off his back.

He really was Ed’s favourite lunatic.

#our flag means death #ofmd #Stede Loves Clothes #Ed Loves Stede #They both love stealing shit #My fic #ficlets

[scuffle-with-spirals]

Helter Skelter Sleeper

Trigger Warning: Brief description of a cat-caller

Word Count: 1,000

Notes:

Oh boy!! Finally got something posted for a @flashfictionfridayofficial piece! I hope you guys like this. Laika is an OC that’s lowkey been kinda brainrotting in my head?? But either way, I’m glad she’s in here, although she’s clearly not the focal point at all here, lol.

I’ve reaaaally wanted to try writing absurdist fiction, lmao. Big inspiration for this was Alice in Wonderland and Matoryoshka.

I hope you guys enjoy this! \3v3/

 __________

Laika hated public transport.

The bustling conversation, frequent drunks, the pervasive eyes glued to her like a child's messy handwork, she couldn’t stand it. The last thing she needed was to be irritated unpaid.

Her mind stuck on the catastrophes, she grew lost in thought.

She arrived at an empty train station. The fluorescent lights shone a sorry, orange flicker on a lifeline.

In time, the train made its stop. Like clockwork, she reached into her purse to pay the fare.

“What's this?” The conductor asked.

“I'm paying.” Laika mumbled.

“Nonsense!” He shouted. “Deary me, are you rich? Save the buck and comedy, doe — sit, sit!”

Laika could only manage a mental blessing. She hadn’t realized the lanky, well-spoken deer in his clean-cut black uniform wasn’t a friendly man of exception.

The trains gears began to work in tandem. Outside, a loud cough hacked and cursed the conductor four rings down. Then, with a resounding squeal, the ride began.

She planted herself in the nearest seat; one forfeited as a termite queen skittered away.

“Here you go,” Her frail voice offered, her free leg outstretched as the other gripped a small purse.

Laika recognized her elderly tone. “No, please, you have it.”

“Oh, honey and chambers of wood, no," she replied. "You’re a young one. You’ll need all the vigor you can get.”

Laika didn't protest. Her back reclined into the seat so cushioned it ate at her like quicksand.

The smell of lavender and cigarettes wafted across the commute. Laika didn’t see or question the clique of horses conversing amongst themselves, the clickity-clock of their clog box gossip a language only they could understand.

Toward the back, his sullen face pale as a corpse, a desperate businessman with only bone at his hands and feet spoke to a zombie about the perks of joining his pyramid scheme. Once denied, he gave one more strained grin and disintegrated into dust.

“Deary me!” The conductor exclaimed through the low-quality microphone overhead.

“Clean-up, Pamela!”

The front door flew open. Quiet as a guest at a stranger’s wake, Pamela-Poet glided across lukewarm glossy floor. Her bleak patchwork maid dress allergic to jewel tones swiveled around her waist to conceal nonexistent feet. A trail of smoke from a nonexistent eye trailed behind her.

“Heeey,” A flytrap who reeked of cheap booze and musk from a lack of rainfalls growled.

“Heeeey Poetry-baby—“

His catcall was grabbed by the tongue as he was decapitated at the stem. The horse ladies neighed and clapped their hooves together.

Pamela-Poet stared down the pair of shears she’d retrieved from her missing eye.

“Say, I think there’s a million messes!” A ghost that danced with indecision corporeal forms screeched, her figure akin to the static flickering across an old television.

Silent, she took her broom and flung the trash to the ceiling.

“You should clean it all! Why don’t we all go into the ceiling!” The ghost screamed like anxiety-inducing broadcast alert. As the ceiling opened up to free the garbage, she too flew out like a paper bag.

Pamela-Poet scowled, her face a vivid apple anger as she glided away. Laika’s face wrinkled as she passed. She cracked her eyes ajar too late to notice where the smell of animal meat had come from, much less see it sewn a tell-tale taxidermy partially onto her dress.

More passengers came onboard. Laika didn't budge, not even as as orphan stars flew down. Despondent and bratty, their warm, stardust-coated tears flooded the train as they were ignored.

“Goodness game!” The conductors voice returned.

"Oh boy!" A rebellious penguin shouted. From their sleek leather jackets, they all fished out barber-pole straws to share a drink.

“How's the taste?” A tortoise asked. He sat atop his two brothers, all hidden in a small raincoat athirst for the fare privilege.

“Delicious!” One said.

“We got extra straws!” Another informed.

In a moments notice, everyone helped themselves to a meal of tears. The stars incessant raged ended once their meteorite caretakers found them. Rejected by them too, they'd ran away and conducted a homeless fiction to get what they wanted. The meteorites threw the stars into the atmosphere to dissipate as punishment. They exploded like fireworks to loud, celebratory fanfare.

Laika was fast asleep.

The horse ladies were first to go. Their gossip ended in favor of friendly goodbyes and wishes for good health.

The zombie next, he gave the conductor a light pat on the back. The deer knew he'd throw his suit into the chimney fire later.

Quiet the entire ride, a k��kāpō stopped to give prayer to the businessman and hoped he finally found rest. He wished the fly trap could at least learn manners in a much-needed tsunami limbo until the Gods could decide his fate.

The penguin gang left, unable to convince the termite queen. She saw through the liars trick however and left before the tortoise trio.

"Rise and shine, deer!” The conductor announced. A gloved hoof rustled Laika awake. She looked up to him.

"What?! Who are y—"

“Ha-ha!" He could only laugh. "My dearest, doe deer dumb child." The conductor sneered.

He cleared his throat.

"Clean-up!"

Again, Pamela-Poet barged out.

"Who are you?! Get away!"

“'Sorry about this" She apologized. "I’ll try to aim so you hit a sweet spot.”

Laika couldn't ask. Pamela-Poet grabbed her and chucked her through the open ceiling.

Defenseless amidst the night sky, Laika feared the inevitable pain. She gazed at the soft satin glow of the moon, and a few distant meteorites huddled around a group of bright stars.

She noticed her house. A structure she would soon crash into.

In a last, ditch-effort, Laika extended her hands. Instead of pain, she fell straight through onto her bed.

Her adrenaline fresh, she wanted to make sense of it all. But like a predictable show that never deviated from formula, she slept. She had work tomorrow, anyway.

And besides, she kind of liked the ride.

Maybe she’d find that station again.

#writing #flashfiction #writingblr #also i know its not mentioned at all in the story but- #helter skelter sleeper is supposed to have a double meaning #because not only is laika well. sleeping but thats also the name of the train LMAO #there are other fun story facts I'd like to share so i may do a separate drawing of some of the characters w ith that? idk

[floralovebot]

oh god not the stella is too popular disk horse again

#bro 😭 #we do this every year this is what im talking about can we Please get new things to fight about #yesyesyes there are a lot of stella stans yes they like talking about her yes they focus on her Good Lord #thats how having a fave works? #and now the stella fans are unironically clapping back again 😔 #and then someones gonna make a vague post condemning that 😔 #and i and others are gonna make posts about how tired we are of the Disk Horse #fandom is a circle #anyway i propose we make new discourse #mmmmm #i think sky had potential to be the most interesting specialist! more so than riven #there how about that. does that butter anyones biscuits #delete later

[theheraldsrest]

Hi! I've been reading your posts and I'm loving it!

If it's not too much to ask, how about this: Inquisitor has trained the mounts like common mabari, able to do tricks and all that. What would their inner circle say if they came across this? I can't get the thought of a warnug rolling over like a dog and getting a treat afterwards.

“Inner Circle reacting to Inquisitor’s trained mounts”

Bless you, @wozzmeyer . I’m loving this idea! Same energy as “All dogs are puppies.” Also, sorry for the disappearance, life hit hard. But back on track with several posts prepared for each week.

-Lord Lex

Cullen

HEAVY SIGH

-Inquisitor, they’re riding mounts, not pet mabari. Please don’t treat them like the dogs. How did you even get them trained like that? That’s a feat all on its own. Are…are you playing fetch with the warnug? That’s actually pretty adora-NO DON’T THROW THE STICK AT HIM

Josephine

“So they know the same tricks as mabari? Would you be willing to show me how to train my mount?”

-She is tickled pink at this. It’s absolutely precious that they behave like dogs, including the dracolisks. Gets to a point where she treats them like dogs. It’s been witnessed that she gives them belly rubs when they roll over. 

Leliana

“Oh, this is better than that joke Varric told about the Venatari.”

-Your spymaster is beaming, which is pretty scary considering. She loves watching you train the mounts, making them sit, roll over and beg for treats. Helps with training them since she also trained her own nugs in the same manner. Shouldn’t be any different, right?

Vivienne

Vivienne disapproves

-Why, why, why would you train them in that sense? If any training is to be done, it should be to teach them how to hold their ground and to be graceful yet imposing. This. This is just ridiculous. It’s even worse when she realizes you trained her mount the same way. It won’t stop sitting randomly.

Varric

“I’ve never been more terrified yet entertained at the same time in my life. This is amazing!”

-To think he’d ever see a horse go from begging to playing dead. Now you definitely have to teach him how to train them. Not for any reason in particular, definitely not to make Cassandra’s mount roll over at random intervals. Definitely not.

Cole

“Some of them enjoy it. Some think it’s silly. That one believes itself to be dead because you gave it a command. Its hoping if it stays dead long enough, it gets a treat.”

-It’s interesting for him to watch. He doesn’t say much about them unless you ask him, save for the occasional soft gasps and little claps. He loves playing fetch with them because they’ll bring it back to him every time and it makes him feel seen. One of the only times you get to see him laugh.

Solas

“I’m quite sure that’s not what they’re supposed to be doing, Inquisitor.”

-You can hear him trying to suppress a chuckle when he sees you training the mounts. He actually finds this funny and can’t help but enjoy this. He’s taught his hart certain commands such as stay and come, but now it knows a new trick and he rewards it every time it sits pretty.

Cassandra

“Inquisitor, those are riding mounts, not show ponies.”

-She wants to be disappointed in you, really she does, but she sees how much fun you’re having and just leaves it be. Forgot all about it until her horse rolled over and knocked her off during one of your travels. You thought she was gonna kill you till you both saw Varric laughing. She still wants to throttle you but she’ll just leave it that you have to get Varric out of the tree. 

The Iron Bull

“It’s a neat trick and all, Boss, but how effective is it really?”

-It is a neat trick and he does find it funny, but is it gonna help in the midst of battle? He’s all for crazy stuff like this but he just doesn’t see it’s usefulness. That is, until you give the command charge and he gets knocked down onto his ass by a warnug. He takes back everything.

Dorian

“You trained the mounts to do what now?”

-Oh this is brilliant. He loves how people are losing their minds over the horses playing fetch and laying down like dogs just for treats. He’s going to treat every single one of them like mabari as well. He’s very fond of the harts that roll over and get their antlers stuck.

Sera

“What other tricks do they know?!”

-She knows there's only a few tricks that are able to be taught, buuuuuut what if you were able to teach them other, more funnier tricks? With your help, three of the mounts now spin when they see someone nod their head. Do you realize how many people nod around you? You’re gonna. 

Blackwall

“That’s…quite interesting, Inquisitor.” Muffled slightly due to his hand covering his mouth.

-He thought he'd seen it all but NOPE. Maker, give him strength. He’s going to choke on his laughter and possibly a heart attack after one of the dracolisks ran at him but feigned away. Even worse, someone has taught his mount to respond to conversations, nodding its head in agreement or disagreement. Sera, it was Sera. She likes seeing Blackwall questioning it.

#dragon age inquisition #dai #inquisitor #cullen rutherford #dai cullen #dragon age josephine #josephine montilyet #lelianna #leliana #madame vivienne #vivienne #madame de fer #varric dai #dai cole #dai solas #fenharel #solas #cassandra #cassandra pentaghast #the iron bull #iron bull #dorian pavus #dorian #dai sera #blackwall #thom rainier #mabari

[monstersandmaw]

Male werewolf (Rollo) x female character - Part Two (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. 

Here’s the third out of my batch of five commissions for you! I hope you enjoy it. It features my commissioner’s feisty girl Frost, and our gruff but sweet werewolf boy Rollo.

Contents: There’s a healthy dose of pining and idiots in love, with a bit of minor aggression from another party towards Frost, who handles it pretty easily, and some nsfw to finish, featuring knotting and claiming. Wordcount: 7048

Part One, in which they rescue a Lord Blackthorn’s prize stallion, and Frost makes a reluctant friend in doing so, can be found here (3rd person, sfw)

I had so much fun with this one, so thank you for letting me borrow your OC again, dear commissioner, who wished to remain anonymous again.

“How long will you be away this time?” Livia asked with surprising clarity of diction, given the choke-hold in which Frost currently had her. “Gods dammit!” she laughed, tapping out. “How do you always get me in a head-lock so quickly?”

Frost snorted, glanced up, smirked, and with a calculated shove, released the nobleman’s daughter, sending her reeling across the dusty yard. Livia screeched and windmilled her arms in a vain attempt to avoid planting face-first in the dirt, but her staggering fall was broken by the quick reactions and strong arms of the russet werewolf whom Frost had seen coming over, and Livia had not.  

The blush on her friend and pupil’s cheeks was almost better than the way Levi’s ears swivelled back shyly and he set his employer’s daughter back on her feet with a mumbled apology and a dirty look at Frost.  

Frost cackled unapologetically, and cracked the tension from her neck. Across the other side of the yard, a grey-pelted werewolf was watching her with steady, golden eyes, and as their gazes met, he smiled a fraction and shook his head slowly. Even from that distance, she could tell that Rollo was amused by her antics, and was also trying not to show it.  

“Please try not to dump the lady in the dirt,” Levi said flatly.  

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Livia chuckled, patting her father’s guard on his huge bicep and making his tail wag inadvertently.

He stopped when he caught Frost’s eyes on it, and growled a fleeting warning to her as he stalked off to talk to his brother on the far side of the yard.

Oblivious, Livia turned to Frost and asked, “So? How long will this trip be? Your last job took you away for a month. Levi refused to help me with my training, and you said when you got back that I was worse than when we started!”  

This time Frost’s playful mood softened and she folded her arms, cocking a hip. “You know I only said that to tease you, right? You’re doing fine, Livia. Better than fine. I mean, you won’t be joining me to protect Miriam’s shipment this time, but you’re stronger and fitter than you were when all you were doing was needlework and wistfully staring at Levi’s broad shoulders and chest…”

Livia yipped and lunged at Frost, clapping her hand over the other young woman’s mouth and glaring at her. “Shut up!” she laughed. “By the Gods, don’t embarrass me any more today, alright? You’ve already made him have to catch me, for goodness’ sake.”

“Well, you are quite the catch, darling,” Frost purred, and Livia rolled her eyes. “And he loved it. Why do you think he had to leave so suddenly.”

“To talk to Rollo?”

Frost raised an eyebrow. 

“Stop deflecting,” Livia grumbled. “How long will you be gone?”

Frost shrugged. “It’s, what, a four day ride by horse and cart to Harrow Ridge?”

The young noblewoman gave a nod and started to brush down the smart riding trousers she wore whenever Frost was giving her a self-defence lesson.  

“So just over a week then, at a guess. Miriam’s paying me enough to stay the night in town after we’ve delivered her lace shipment, so once the horses have rested, I’ll come straight home. It’ll be a piece of cake, and you’ll barely miss me.”

Livia grinned, and they headed inside the main house for some refreshments.  

Of course, the best laid plans, and all that…  

Rollo, in his usual werewolf form, had seen her off after walking with her in companionable silence to the drider’s lace workshop. Their friendship had been slowly developing since the successful return of Lord Blackthorn’s prize stallion, Silver Shadow, but Rollo was still gruff and silent most of the time. Of course, after their adventures together, Frost knew that he wasn’t being actively hostile — that was just how he was. There was a steadying pull to his silent presence, and she found almost any excuse just to be near him these days, even if he was as hard to read as he ever had been. Still, he hadn’t sent her away, so she supposed that was a good sign.

With the two valuable crates of lace securely fastened to the small cart, and the two mules harnessed and ready, Frost swung up onto the back to sit with the cargo, and grinned at the driver to set off. Dangling her legs over the edge like a child, she waved at Rollo before he nodded once and turned away, his storm-grey tail dragging through the dust as he headed back to Lord Blackthorn’s fancy townhouse, and she left Linden Corner for the wide open countryside and the market town beyond.  

The driver didn’t say a word to her as they rumbled along the well-kept Queen’s Road to Harrow Ridge. Frost thought the small, wiry, taciturn faun was named ‘Sage’, but she had only met them once in all the weeks she’d been at the town, despite the fact that she’d been employed as an extra pair of hands by almost everyone at one point or another.  

They had dyed their long, curly hair a pale, lichen-green, and the entire length of both cervine ears were pierced with a series of gold rings, with another through their septum, and they had the most startlingly dark green eyes Frost had ever seen, but what their voice sounded like, she hardly knew. After the four days it took to reach the bustling town though, she finally worked out that they were simply extremely shy, which manifested in an awkward exterior, and a solitary career as a wagon driver for the village.

None of that bothered Frost, and she left them to their own devices while they travelled, though she quietly hoped the space would let them adjust to her presence. The weather held, the bandits stayed away, and she spent most of the ride staring up at the open autumn sky above, with the rattle of harness, the rumble of wheels, and the soft snorts of the mules for company.  

It was only once she reached the town that things went a little downhill.  

Frost should have heard the footsteps coming up behind her, and she should have reacted sooner, but she and Sage had finally managed to have an actual conversation as they made their way from the adjoined stables round to the inn, and she was tired and distracted.  

A gang of three surprised her and Sage, emerging from the shadows of a nearby alleyway. Two of them took Sage by the arms and dragged them back into the dark like a spider down a tunnel.  

“Where’s that fat sack of coin we saw you pocket earlier then?” a third man growled as he grabbed her and looped his thick forearm around her neck.  

A moment of blind panic shot through her before she made her body go limp and awkward and heavy until her boots hit the stone again, at which point she jabbed her elbow into his ribs and used her shoulder to flip the surprised and winded assailant over her shoulder onto the ground. He knocked himself out on the cobbles as he landed, and she sprang away, drawing her knives from her belt instead of her sword since the alley was narrow.  

The scrap didn’t last long, and it ended with one of the thugs bleeding from a cut on the thigh, crying for his mother with Frost’s blade at his quivering throat, and the other trussed up in their own scarf. Sage darted away to fetch the City Watch, and before too long they were explaining what had happened to a Watch Captain in plate armour.  

The centaur staring down at her with a stern expression nodded. She told her and Sage to be more careful, and then dragged the big man on the floor away by the scruff of his shirt, his back scraping on the flagstones of the street as she hauled him off to the clink with an orc and a minotaur handling the others.  

“You alright?” she asked Sage as the pair stepped shakily into the inn, and the faun nodded shyly.  

Word had apparently spread of the assault and of its outcome, because they were heralded as something akin to conquering heroes by the entire common room of the inn, much to Sage’s embarrassment and Frost’s amusement.  

“You should hear about the time I had to rescue a harpy from three rampaging boars, with nothing but a pot of honey and a small zither…” she muttered to Sage as they collected their free drinks and headed for a table in the corner. Sage’s eyebrows sailed high, but they grinned, and Frost realised she had made another friend from Linden Corner.  

It wasn’t until much later that the previously unseen bruise blossomed fully around Frost’s eye, and when she came down to breakfast the next morning, Sage gasped. She hadn’t known the wiry faun had it in them to fuss so spectacularly, but somehow they managed it. They didn’t let up until Frost informed them that she’d received far worse by accident from her rough-and-tumble, adoptive gnoll family.  

Still, Sage did let her ride up beside them on the way home, and when Miriam insisted she keep a little more coin than they’d agreed on for the inconvenience of the black eye and split lip, Frost didn’t argue. “My money was well spent on you, clearly,” the older drider said in a motherly tone that reminded Frost of her own adoptive mother’s.  

“Thank you,” she said, and pocketed the extra gold without further protestation.  

With the extra coin to spend, she could have gone to the inn, but Lord Blackthorn had let her keep a cot above the stables, in the section of the hayloft next to Rollo’s room, and she fancied a quiet, private evening to herself. She went to wash up in the kitchens of the townhouse first though, praying she wouldn’t see Livia just yet and have to explain to her pupil how her self-defence teacher got surprised in an alleyway by three common footpads.  

Combined with the contents of the small lock box under her bed, she also now had more money in her possession than she’d ever had in one go in her life, and thoughts of her family nagged at her.  

“I’ve got to go back and see them,” she muttered to herself as she left the kitchen by the side door after her bath, wet hair plaited and dangling down her front, while dusk pooled in the corners of the courtyard beyond and torches were just beginning to be lit in the town beyond.  

Her plans to be stealthy, naturally, were foiled when Rollo emerged from the stable block and stopped dead at the sight of her. As usual, he was in full shift, with his smoky grey fur rippling softly in the evening breezes. The little white highlights at the tips of his ears and the flashes of scarring over his muzzle and cheek were picked out like lines of lightning in the twilight. He stalked over like another of the shadows in the courtyard, looking relaxed and happy to see her again, but when he joined her, his lip curled and he growled, reaching for her face with his paw-like hand. His black claws pricked her skin and made it tingle.  

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Rollo,” she snorted, pulling her face back however reluctantly. “Don’t get your tail in a twist.”

“Who did this to you?” he growled. “Who hurt you?”

The protective rumble in his voice went right through her, but Frost had to laugh. She waved her hand dismissively at him and rolled her eyes. “Some losers in Harrow Ridge who thought they could help themselves to Miriam’s coin,” she said. “Don’t worry, they’re all in irons now, and I doubt they’ll get off lightly. Gods, you should have seen the muscles on the centaur who dragged them away after I wrapped them up for her like Yule gifts.” A slight exaggeration of events, but still; she’d won.  

His soft growling filled the air again and looked up at him. The gruff wolf’s shoulders dropped and his growl turned into a pathetic little whine. “You're really alright?” he asked in a low rasp.  

Taking pity on him, she stepped close and boldly put her hand on his cheek. “Yes,” she breathed, letting him nuzzle her palm. He closed his bright gold eyes and his tail swept once across the dirt behind him in a quiet, relieved movement.  

“Good,” he rumbled. “That’s good.”

“You’re sweet to worry about me, Rollo.”

He stared at her for a long moment and went sad once more. “You’re not sticking around are you? You’re heading out again.”

She nodded. “Yeah. My family gave me everything when they took me in as a child, and I owe it to them to share my good luck with them,” she said, patting the coin purse on her belt.

Thoughtfully, he nodded. “I’ll go with you. I’ll have to clear it with his Lordship, but —”

“— no, Rollo. It’s fine. You could keep training Livia for me though.”

He raised his lip at that. “I’m not a nursemaid.”

“Good thing she’s not a child,” she fired back, laughing. “She doesn’t need to become the next leader of the Queensguard, Rollo. She just wants to feel like she’s not completely helpless. Plus, she wants to impress your brother a bit, and we all know he’s got a crush a mile wide on her. Help a pair of hopeless lovers out for me while I’m gone, would you?”

Something flashed in his eyes but he looked away before she could tell what it was. She thought he was going to argue more with her, but instead, he fell silent and subdued, nodded, and stalked off without a word, the tip of his tail dragging in the dirt of the stable yard.  

She didn’t see him again before she left.

Lord Blackthorn lent her one of his rangy old mares from the stables for the journey, but Rollo was nowhere to be seen when she went to collect the horse. She rubbed Silver Shadow’s nose as she passed, leading the bay mare out towards the sunny courtyard, and the stallion whickered at her, hoping for an apple. “Sorry, you spoilt little brat,” she laughed at him. “Any treats I’ve got are for Moss here.”

Moss, the scrawny bay mare, swished her tail and pretended like she wasn’t the least bit interested in any apples Frost may have had, but by lunchtime, the mare was reluctantly eating out of her hand, and Frost had made another friend.  

She spent a fortnight with her family, and definitely picked up a few more black eyes and bruises as she sparred and scrapped with her five brothers, though each blow dealt was accidental and was hardly serious.  

“Tell me about him, this werewolf ‘friend’ of yours,” her adoptive mother smiled one evening as she raked her clawed fingers through Frost’s hair while her daughter rested her head on her scarred thigh and stared into the flickering campfire flames in front of them. Her mother’s ears were ragged from her years of fighting to maintain her territory, and her muzzle bore more bite marks than almost the rest of the clan put together, but it had never hardened her heart. She listened while Frost reluctantly spilled her growing feelings for Rollo, speaking of their adventure through the woods to rescue the stallion, and when her younger brother — sitting cross-legged nearby and whittling a new amulet — heard her tale, he flicked an ear and listened too.  

She’d expected playful teasing from the gnolls about falling for a werewolf, but in the end, her family told her that if he was a good soul, then she should muster the courage to tell him how she felt. “If only it were that easy,” she muttered.  

Two weeks later, she hopped back onto the rangy mare and prepared to head back to Linden Corner.  

“Frosty, wait!” At the sound of her younger brother’s friendly yip, she rolled her eyes and turned in the saddle to look at him.  

“I hate that name and you know it,” she groused but he just giggled and bared his teeth at her in a shy smile.  

“I’ve got something for you,” he said, holding out a necklace in his paw. A delicately-carved, birchwood pendant dangled on a long leather cord, and as she leaned down to take it and turned it over in her fingers, she saw that it showed a pine tree with a stylised moon behind it. He’d carefully singed the wood black to make it stand out against the unmarred moon, and he’d found some green ink to dye the tree before sealing it and stringing it.  

She turned it over and over, and then looked down at him from the horse’s back with blurred vision. “You’re really good you know?” she croaked, and his big, round ears swivelled back against his head and he wagged his stumpy tail.  

“I wanted you to have it. To… To give to your werewolf,” he said shyly. “As a courting gift. Blessing from the family and all that…” he added in a mumble.  

Frost choked softly and hopped down from the saddle, flinging her arms around his neck. “Love you, you big softie,” she said into his fluffy mane.  

His arms closed around her and he held her tightly. “Love you too, sis,” he grinned. “Take care out there, alright?”

She nodded, mounted the horse for a second time, earning a soft snort and a flick of her tail in admonition, and with a final glance back over her shoulder to wave at her gathered family, she set out for Linden Corner again.  

This time when she rode into the stable yard after a long journey, it was bustling with people.  

Savi, the gnollish guard she’d first encountered on duty out the front of the house with Aster the enormous minotaur, let out a long, low whoop when she saw her, and it made something tug inside her at the family she’d just left behind. Rollo was nowhere to be seen, but his brother was training what looked like a new recruit in how to use a sword, and to her surprise, Livia stood beside him, following along with her own wooden practice sword.  

“Those two finally figure things out?” she asked in a whisper as Savi joined her and took the mare’s reins from her.  

Savi rolled her eyes and then giggled so loudly she had to clap her hand over her muzzle to shut herself up.  

“Took them long enough,” Frost smiled.  

Livia looked up halfway through one of the patterns and screeched with delight. Letting her practice sword fall to the earth with a clatter, she left the small class and raced over. She slammed into Frost, nearly knocking her over and ignoring Levi’s yelled ‘oi!’ to get her to come back. “We missed you!” she said, pulling back. “Welcome home.”

“I hear you had something to take your mind off my absence though,” she snorted pointedly, and Livia blushed a deep crimson as she shot Levi a look over her shoulder. His gaze was very deliberately not directed at her.  

“How can you have heard already?”

Frost nodded at Savi’s retreating back as the gnoll led Moss away to the stables for her.  

“She’s probably still annoyed that she didn’t win the betting pool on which one of us would make a move first. Well, I suppose she’s still in with a chance to win the one on you and Rollo, but —” her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my goodness, I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that!”

Frost halted. “Does Rollo know about it?” she asked first. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d take something like that too well.”

“Don’t think so,” Livia said.  

Levi came up behind her a moment later and casually put his hands on Livia’s shoulders. She leaned into him and Frost grinned. “Welcome back, Frost,” he said, and the conversation slid away from bets and wagers. “How was your family?”

“Well, thank you,” she smiled, looking around the yard and finding the absence of a certain dark grey werewolf disconcerting. “Your brother around?”  

“He’s moping in the hayloft,” Levi grinned. “If you head up now, you might catch him before he goes for his usual evening run. He’s been going further and further each time.”

There was a note to the older werewolf’s voice that sent a quiet chill through her. “Levi, is he alright?��

Levi huffed a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. He’s been moping around since you left; trying to tell himself he’s not worried about you out there in the world, all on your own…”

Frost rolled her eyes. “I arrived at this town on my own. How does he think I got here?”

“Not through your nice manners and pretty needlework,” Livia grinned and Frost lunged for her.  

To her pleasant surprise, Livia fought back well, though she was quickly overwhelmed. Right before she yielded though, Levi grabbed frost by the belt and yanked her back like a pup by the scruff of her neck. “Go find my brother and pull him out of his funk, and leave Livia alone.”

With a playful scowl, Frost nodded, but ducked into the stables first to check that Moss had been made comfortable. Savi was rubbing her nose and the mare was tolerating it politely. “Ah, you love it really, girl,” Frost grinned at the mare, who tossed her head but certainly didn’t object to the continuing attention.  

By contrast, Silver Shadow whickered warmly at her as Frost passed his stall, and she paused to scratch him between the eyes the way he liked. “Good boy,” she smiled, kissing his velvety muzzle. “I’ll see you later. Got other hellos to make first.”

The smooth rungs of the wooden ladder up to the hayloft felt familiar under her hands as she climbed, but instead of turning left to her own, small, partitioned-off section, she went right and knocked on the rustic door. The wall was hardly more than a series of vertical planks nailed to the beams above and the floor below, but it afforded a hint of privacy, and it was warm enough for a werewolf up here. Come full winter, she’d need more insulation, but for now, it was fine.  

“Rollo?” she called and pushed the door open.  

Curled on his bed, fast asleep with his nose under his tail, was Rollo. She drew up short, not ready at all for how sweet he looked, but she couldn’t help noticing the slant of his ears and the slight pinch to his brows. He didn’t look relaxed, even in sleep.  

His right ear twitched and he jerked his head up with a snarl, lifting his lip until he saw who was standing there and, rather comedically, froze. “Frost?” he breathed, getting up and swinging his legs off the bed before pausing with his hands on either side of his thighs. “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I… uh… I just arrived. Listen,” no point beating about the bush, “I’ve got something for you… From my family. Well, from me, but my little brother carved it. I…” and with that, she marched over to the bed and tugged the leather cord off over her head, thrusting it out to him. The pendant dangled at the end of it, swinging back and forth, and for a long moment, Rollo just stared at it.  

Carefully, he took the warm pendant in clawed fingers that trembled slightly, and he turned it over to see the moon and pine tree.  

“I told them all about rescuing Silver Shadow from those bandits,” she mumbled, cheeks heating with awkward embarrassment. “I think it inspired him.”

It became apparent that he couldn’t wear it when he was a werewolf — the continuous length of cord wouldn’t fit over his head, let alone around his neck — so he nosed it once and then hung it reverently over the wooden post of his bed frame. “I’ll wear it when I’m human,” he said, though that was as rare as a blue moon, “And it can live there while I’m a wolf.”

She smiled. “Glad you like it. Listen, I should… I should go. I… I need to grab my things from Moss’ stall. I left my saddlebags with her stuff, and I should clean the tack, and I need a bath because I’ve been on the road for days and I literally slept in a bush last night, so… yeah. Anyway.”

“I’m glad you’re back safely,” he said once she’d stopped herself rambling, with his steady gaze locked on her face. “I’m glad you came back.”

From the doorway, she paused and looked at him. He’d actually doubted that she would return at all, she realised with a sudden crushing sensation in her chest. “Yeah,” she said, voice unexpectedly rough. “Me too.”

Three days later, her frustration with herself for not coming out with her true feelings for Rollo started to get the better of her.  

She snapped at Levi when he quipped in passing that she had been going easy on Livia’s training. “Alright then, tough-nuts,” she snarled, balling her fists and bristling. “Come on.”

He’d agreed to spar with her readily enough, but when she started to get too serious, his ears flattened and his eyes sharpened. His claws dug into the dirt of the stable yard and he had her on her back, winded, in under a minute.  

“Again!” she called, shoving herself upright and raising her fists. “Come on, Levi. Stop holding back.”

He shook his head. “No. You’re done, Frost. Go clean up.”

“What? Afraid I’ll make you eat a muzzle full of dirt this time?”

He rolled his eyes and darted at her, grabbing her around the middle and depositing her inelegantly onto her backside again. She sprang back to her feet immediately and swung wildly at him with a fist and a yell. This only gave him ample opportunity to grab her by her punching arm and simply tug her off her feet, using her own momentum against her. She fell face-first into the dirt with a disgruntled, bitten-off screech, but she knew she was bested.  

With another inarticulate snarl, she got up and slouched off across the yard, pausing by the water pump to clean herself up. She took a deep breath and then meandered more calmly into the stables to find Silver Shadow looking at her quizzically from his stall. He whickered gently, and she softened, heading over. He exhaled his warm, hay-sweet breath over her palms and then nodded his head when she moved up to stroke the whorl between his eyes, lifting his silvery forelock to one side.  

“I’m an idiot, Shadow,” she sighed.  

They stayed there a long time before he twitched back, ears flat, and eyes rolling. He gnashed his teeth and nickered a warning, and Frost laughed quietly. “There’s only one person he hates that much,” she said, turning to find Rollo standing well out of range of the stallion’s pincer-sharp teeth.  

“Mmhmm,” he agreed. He wasn’t looking at the horse though. “You alright?”

Exasperated, she rolled her eyes, folded her arms, and turned to lean her backside against the stable door, using Shadow for cover to keep Rollo out of range. Coward, she scolded herself. “Yeah.”

Rollo’s wolfy brows rose and she made another grunt of disgust. “Fine. Levi wouldn’t spar with me properly. I needed to blow off some steam, he was holding back, I goaded him into going more full-on, and he just tipped me into the dust. I got exactly what I deserved, but I just… I was annoyed with him for going easy on me to start with.”

“You do realise how strong a shifted werewolf is, don’t you?”

“I grew up with a whole clan of gnolls, Rollo. I’m not an idiot.”

“And yet you goaded a werewolf in full shift to fight you?”

“Shut up,” she snorted, unable to stop the good-natured laughter creeping into her voice.  

Rollo moved a pace closer, but Shadow wasn’t having any of it. The stallion lunged over the stable door at him, teeth bared and snapping, and Rollo snarled right back at him.  

“Stop it, both of you,” she said, stepping forwards and grabbing Rollo by the arm to pull him out of the stables. Over her shoulder, she pointed her finger at Shadow and said, “That was rude. No more treats for you.”

The horse looked unrepentant and glared at Rollo.  

“C’mon,” Rollo chuckled. “Walk with me?”

However much of a mess she was feeling, emotionally, she was unwilling to pass up the chance to spend time alone with Rollo, so she nodded and they headed through the back of the stable yard and out into a small copse that bordered the fields where the horses would be turned out during the day. Almost all the fiery autumn leaves had been whisked away by the strengthening winter winds, and the branches stood starkly against the deep blue of the evening sky like delicate, black lacework.

“I know…” Rollo began uncertainly as they wound leisurely down a path between the trees, “…I know you don’t seem to set much stock in your own wellbeing…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she laughed.  

He shrugged. “You’re not afraid of anything, it seems,” he said. His tone was somewhere between awestruck and anguished. “But you…” he sighed heavily and stopped walking. “Frost, it scared the shit out of me when you came back with that black eye.”

“Rollo, it was just a bruise. You should have seen the other guy!”

“What if he’d had a knife? What if —”

“Then I would have changed my fighting style. I’m not an idiot. I know how to handle myself.”

Rollo let out another rough exhale. “I know you do. I just…” He turned his smoky grey muzzle away. With his ears and tail down, and his hands clasped behind his back, he looked the picture of misery.  

“Rollo?” she murmured, stepping close to him and touching the soft pelt on his chest. It drifted through her fingers like campfire smoke and she splayed them wide, enjoying the warmth radiating off him in the chilly evening. Rollo gave a low rumble and she looked up to find his eyes closed. “Rollo?”

“Frost, I’ve… I’ve grown… fond of you. I’m not good at expressing myself, but… I don’t think I could bear it if something happened to you, and seeing you hurt — even a little bit — it spooked me. Left me… shaken.” And with that, he did look at her again. Somehow, despite being much taller than her, he managed to look at her through his lashes, and her heart swooped.  

“Rollo, what exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying I care about you. A lot. More than I ever thought I would care for a human — for anyone. And the idea of something more serious happening to you… scares me. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

She slid her hand up through his fur to his face and cupped his jaw in her rough hand. Wolves obviously didn’t purr, but he rumbled something quiet and gentle and closed his eyes again, leaning into her touch like a cat all the same. He let out another shaky breath and didn’t open his eyes.  

“I didn’t know you felt that way about me, Rollo,” she said. “Savi’s going to have a field day. She’s got a betting pool on how long we’re going to keep dancing around each other or something.”

“You’re kidding?” he laughed, letting his eyes fall open and finding her face. “I’m going to have her running drills for a month for that.”

“I knew you’d hate it.”

“How come you knew about it and I didn't?” he chuckled, his shoulders dropping and the tension dissolving from his muscles.  

Frost grinned gnollishly and Rollo just stared at her.  

“You’re so fierce,” he whispered at last. “Gods, you’re so beautiful, and so fierce. Frost, I’d… I’d like to court you, but —”

She shook her head and his ears swivelled back so quickly she was surprised they didn’t fall off. “No, Rollo. I know what I want.” She paused, and stepped right up to him, gazing into his face while he stared down at her with his jaw slack with disbelief and his hands soft at his sides. “I want you.”

With that, he leaned down in a rush and scented her, rubbing his cheek against her neck and face with his soft fur, his hands going to her hips while he whimpered quietly and keened her name. “I’m yours,” he whispered, drawing back a little. “Come on,” he added, with an eye to the fading light and the way their breath fogged between them in the deepening dusk. “Let’s get back.”

He led her by the hand back to the grounds of the townhouse, and he followed her up the ladder and into his secluded part of the hayloft without a word. He closed the door behind them with a soft click and stared down at her, waiting like a hunter for a signal to move.  

She smiled up at him and crossed to his bed, undoing her belt as she went and slowly turning back to look at him. “Gods, look at you. You’re gorgeous, Rollo,” she laughed as she stared at him. “You could be quite intimidating you know? Standing in the doorway all menacing like that…”

A long, low, rumbling growl rippled across the room from him and she grinned at him.  

“Oh, I love that sound,” she smiled, eyes flashing. She lifted her top over her head, her long plait swinging down her back, and undid the simple bindings that held her chest during the day. Only after she began to unlace her green buckskin leggings and lever off her boots did Rollo move.  

He dropped to all fours and paced across the bare floorboards to her, and as she let the very last of her smallclothes hit the ground, he took her hips in his hands and nosed between her legs. His tongue laved over her sex and she bucked, shivering. “Rollo,” she breathed, hardly daring to believe it was finally happening after all those months of looking and wondering and fantasising…  

After tasting her again with the tip of his tongue just once more, Rollo reared up to his full height again, hands still on her hips.  

For a long moment, he just stared at her, pupils blown huge, tongue just beginning to loll, shiny with drool as he started to pant, and she glanced down his body to see the red tip of his cock starting to show through the soft fur. “I want you,” he growled, still waiting for her cue.

“I’m yours,” she echoed back at him and he finally acted on it.  

He began to scent mark her neck and collarbones and cheek again, first slowly and then with growing urgency until he was rocking his cock against her hips as well. Then he began to snarl and mouth at her neck, raking his teeth across her pulse and laving his tongue along her throat. She shuddered and went slack in his grip, letting him hold her up in his arms, her spine bending backwards like a willow towards the river.  

Rollo couldn’t stop growling, the vibrations of it rumbling through her as he moved his cold nose and hot mouth to her breasts and began to curl his tongue around her budding nipples, finally taking them between his front teeth and tweaking her hard enough to make her jerk and gasp against him.  

“Rollo, please…” she grunted. He still had hold of her hips, so she simply lifted her legs and latched them around his waist, just above his tail. At that, he snapped his teeth with a groan and laid her down on the bed behind her. She did not unclasp her legs from around him.  

He locked his jaws right around her throat, pinning her in place for a moment. Her hands scrabbled at his chest as she gasped in pleasure, and Rollo loomed over her with his tail high behind, his hips still rocking against her. His slick, hot tip nudged against her entrance and she moaned, spreading her legs further for him. “Yes…”

“You’re so wet,” he grunted, pushing back and putting his palms on her thighs to stare openly at her. “So beautiful. Can I use my mouth on you?”

Mutely, she nodded, and nearly passed out at the sight of him disappearing between her legs and licking his tongue in a searing hot strip across her sensitive, wet folds, upper teeth resting on her mound. She felt almost devoured by him. Now, he took his time with her clit, working her into a shaking, shivering, begging mess until she arched her back and almost screamed his name in frustration. “Rollo please, I need… I need you… All of you.”

His lips lifted into a beautiful snarl, and then he finally — blissfully, tantalisingly — lined himself up with her. And then the bastard halted again. “Are you sure?”

“Gods yes,” she yowled. “Rollo, if I don’t have you inside me right now, I swear I’ll —”

He didn't give her the chance to finish that, sheathing himself inside her with a slow but unyielding thrust.  

Frost had never felt so full, and she grabbed onto his shoulders, breathing hard while he let her adjust to the sheer size of him all the way inside her. “Alright?” he asked, his voice making him sound wrecked already. He was shaking all over from the effort of holding himself back.  

“Yes,” she said, relaxing and looking up at him. “Gods yes…” she said with a smile when she met his eyes. “Look at you… I’m good. You can move. Please move?”

He laughed softly and then rocked his hips and she let out a long, broken mewl.  

“Gods you’re so tight, Frost,” he said, leaning forward after a few long, deep strokes to brace his weight on his left hand and letting the other close around her exposed breast. His claws pricked her skin and she bucked, clenching around him until he growled again and didn’t stop. His teeth closed on her collarbone as he picked up his pace, drool sliding down his tongue and over her skin as he marked her, snarling his pleasure as he fucked into her over and over without releasing his jaws from her shoulder.  

“Gods, Rollo,” she panted as he sped up, thrusting deep inside her with calculated force. “I’m close. I’m going to come.”

The werewolf didn’t have words any more, and she felt what was unmistakably his knot swelling inside her. He wasn’t able to pull all the way out any longer with each stroke, and he began to whine behind the continuous growling.  

“Shh, I want it,” she crooned, stroking his fur and making him whimper and shake. “I want you to knot me. Gods that’s big,” she grunted. “You’re so big. You feel so good…. that feels so good. Your knot feels so good…” she babbled senselessly.  

Heat crescendoed in her muscles as he swelled, her core tightening to a white hot furnace, and she began to lose track of herself as she bucked upwards into him, taking his knot as deep as she could. The bed rocked beneath them as he still tried to thrust, but he was tied to her now.  

Without warning, his relentless rhythm faltered and he flung his head back, arching his spine and emptying himself into her with a howl that no one would ever let them live down. In that moment though, tied to him as he filled her, he then claimed her as his own with his cock buried inside her and his teeth around her neck, gripping her tightly without breaking the skin.

Her vision whited out as she came around his huge knot while he was still coming inside her, and he shook with the intense pleasure of it all until finally he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard. When she grunted, a little sore and almost mindlessly full, he rolled sideways and dragged her with him, holding her carefully.  

He opened his eyes at last and his gaze drifted down to the marks he’d left all over her neck and shoulders. He looked horrified for a long moment until she laughed and brought her fingers weakly up to run them over the tender bruises.  

“Yours,” she smiled dazedly up at him.  

“Yours,” he mirrored, licking the tip of his tongue sweetly over them. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t plan to knot you… I haven’t… had one in a—”

She shook her head and kissed the tip of his scarred nose to silence him before she burrowed into the paler fur of his chest. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It was perfect. I won’t be able to walk properly for a week, but I don’t mind right now.”

With a soft, doting chuckle, he tugged her somehow even closer and cradled the back of her head with one paw-like hand. “I probably should have been in my human form for our first time,” he mused.  

“When have I ever gone about things the easy way, Rollo?”

“True,” he said and nuzzled his nose into her hair. “Gods I love you.”

She squeezed his ribs until he wheezed, and then, just because she could and she was curious, she clenched her inner muscles around his over-sensitive knot and he whined, snapping his jaws in a gentle rebuke.  

“You're courting trouble with that, Frost,” he growled without bite.

Naturally, she did it again.

___

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#werewolf #male werewolf #male werewolf x female character #werewolf boyfriend #monster lover #monster boyfriend #fantasy #3rd person #exophilia #rollo

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Episode Review: ‘Together Again’ (Distant Lands, Ep. 3)

Airdate: May 20, 2021

Story by: Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang, Hanna K. Nyström, Christina Catucci, Jesse Moynihan, Adam Muto

Storyboarded by: Hanna K. Nyström, Anna Syvertsson, Iggy Craig, Maya Petersen, Serena Wu

Directed by: Miki Brewster (supervising), Sandra Lee (art)

Across Adventure Time’s ten season run, the show explored a bevy of “mature” themes and story ideas—topics, like love, sexuality, depression, and grieving. The show also touched upon death, but the emphasis was usually placed on the emotional toll of a loved one dying, not really what happens when you die. We knew there were Dead Worlds and Death. We knew that there was reincarnation. But how does it all fit together? What does it mean? How does it work?

With “Together Again,” we finally have many of the answers.

This special opens with a marvelous fake-out episode simply called “Finn & Jake,” that sees the two steal a magical cartoon of 50-flavor ice cream before rescuing Turtle Princess and LSP from the clutches of the villainous Ice King. This is all deliberately anachronistic and over the top. Ice King is back to his season one ways, Finn has both arms, and he is still wielding his golden sword that he lost in season two’s “The Real You.” There’s lolrandom dialogue and silly monsters; it’s like a parody of seasons 1-2. But then, this adventure starts to get all wonky, and in time Finn realizes that he is in a some sort of trance or illusion: one that ends with Jake being buried in the ground. Suddenly, Finn awakens from his reverie. He’s an old man. And he’s dead. We’re then presented with a new title card that lets us know the episode is actually called “Finn & Jake Are Dead.”

Holy Glob! They actually went there.

Turns out Jake died years before Finn, so naturally Finn is super excited to see his best bud. But something’s wrong—he cannot find Jake!! They planned to spend eternity together. But all that Finn can find is his very own psychopomp, Mr. Fox (voiced by Tom Herpich, whose purposefully stilted line readings are the epitome of delightful). Finn rightfully assumes that Jake is in a different Dead World, and so, being the ball of spunk and energy that he is, he demands to meet with Death, only to discover that there’s a New Death in town (voiced by Chris Fleming). The episode eventually explains that New Death was the son of Death and Life, and after New Death killed his father, he became the sovereign of the afterlife. New Death hates his job and decides to just blow up all the Dead Worlds so he doesn’t have to deal with it all. (I won’t get too much into the details here, because there would be a lot of story to parse out.)

Finn soon learns that Jake has reached nirvana in the 50th Dead World, where there is nothing but peace and serenity. Finn nevertheless tracks down Jake, pulls him from paradise, but in doing so, accidentally lets New Death in, who promptly obliterates Elysium, sending all the enlightened souls—including those from different levels of the afterlife—to the 1st Dead World. This gronks up the afterlife, temporarily halting the reincarnation process.

Well, Finn and Jake are rightfully ticked, and so they haunt the material plane looking for Princess Bubblegum. She’s not home (more on that later), but Peppermint Butler is! After Ghost Finn and Ghost Jake explain the situation, Peppermint Butler tells them what to do: They need to find Life and explain the situation. The duo manage just that, and Life is rightfully angry that her kid has stopped the transmigration of souls. After Life gives Finn a McGuffin sword that can hurt Death, Finn and Jake return to his abode. A brawl ensues wherein we learn that New Death has been possessed… by none other than that spirit of the Lich.

That’s right, it’s the Lich! He’s back, and boy is he evil.

The Lich explains that by possessing Death, he can destroy the afterlife, thereby destroying a key aspect of reality. Naturally, Finn and Jake are not cool with this, and they engage in combat. After Mr. Fox grabs the McGuffin sword and uses it to annihilate the Lich and New Death, he is proclaimed the New New Death and sets everything right. Finn is slated to be reincarnated, and Jake is slated to return to the 50th Dead World where he and Finn will one day be reunited. As Finn is pulled into the wheel of souls, Jake suddenly decides to go back with Finn, too, “Just for fun.” The episode ends with a card letting us know that the episode is neither called “Finn & Jake” nor “Finn & Jake Are Dead.” Instead, it is “Finn and Jake Are Together Again.”

As they say, “And there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

If you were to tell me several years ago that the last episode to star Finn and Jake would revolve around them dying, I think I would’ve been upset. Not simply sad, but rather frustrated because “they all died” can feel like a cheap ending. But with “Together Again,” it all works. And a large reason that it works is because the show goes all in with their ideas. Finn and Jake don’t magically leap back into their old life (no, no, they very much do bite the dust). Instead, the special emphasizes the cyclical nature of life through the transmigration of souls. The episode ends with a beautiful scene of Finn and Jake, bound together as soul-brothers, being reborn into a new, mysterious (possibly Ooo 1000+?) world. It’s both aesthetically and emotionally pleasing; it doesn’t feel off the way over finales might. This is right. This is the way life works. “Round and round as nature goes,” and all that jazz.

I loved the series explanation of how death works. It seems that souls land in a specific Dead World, where they ‘marinate’ for a bit, presumably being rewarded or punished based on their life in our meat reality. After a time, they are then reborn. This process repeats, with each soul reaching higher and higher levels of enlightenment until they hit nirvana, which is the 50th Dead World. So in a sense, Adventure Time has a roughly Buddhist cosmology with a dash of Greco-Roman mythos thrown in for flavor. (As to what happens after a soul stays in the 50th Dead World for a long period is anyone’s guess, but I’d speculate that when all the souls in the multiverse have been purified and land in the 50th Dead World, they will all collapse into one another and form one perfect Monad. Perhaps this is the sphere of perfection that the beings who merged into Matthew thought they were connecting to? Who knows! It’s anyone’s guess!) I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get to see who Death, Prismo, Life, etc.’s boss was, but perhaps that’s a mystery better left up to the imagination!

One minor thing that I loved about this special was the number of characters who made cameos as well as all the callbacks that were made to previous episodes. Regarding the former: Finn and Jake’s canine family show up (including the oft-forgotten Jermaine!), as do Tree Trunks and her myriad husbands. Tiffany plays a major role in all these shenanigans as a “death cop” of all things. There is a delightful rogues gallery stuck in the 1st Dead World (including, among others, Maja, Sharon from “The Gut Grinder,” and Wyatt). In the 50th we find Ghost Princess and Clarence happily at peace next to Booshy, the weird spirit mentioned in the Pen Ward classic “High Strangeness.” As far as callbacks go, perhaps my favorite is the clap (from “James Baxter the Horse”) that Jake taught to Finn in case they ever do get separated in the afterlife. And of course, there are myriad references made to “Death in Bloom,” the episode that planted the seed for what this would grow into.

Going into the special suspecting that it would involve Death, I was curious how they were going to handle Miguel Ferrer’s character. (In case a reader is not aware, Ferrer played Death in episodes like “Death in Bloom” and “Betty,” but he sadly passed away a few years ago). The producers’ choice to feature him in a non-speaking cameo—despite playing a relatively significant role in the story—was wise; I’m not sure if I can articulate the exact reasons, but something about his role felt appropriate and not gross, as some post-mortem memorials can be. Speaking of which, the wonderful, lovely Polly Lou Livingston was featured for the last time in this episode as Tree Trunks, happily in heaven with her literal harem of husbands. It was funny, it really was, and I’m sure that Polly Lou would’ve gotten a kick out of seeing it on screen. (Also, this is a pro-Tree Trunks safe space. Any Tree Trunks haters will be chucked into the 1st Dead World with Wyatt.)

The biggest mystery in this whole thing, for me at least, is the question of Princess Bubblegum and Marceline. Several years ago, I wrote an essay about what could’ve happened to them in the Ooo 1000+ universe. I speculated that they peaced out and left Ooo behind. In this special, neither Bubblegum nor Marceline are to be found in the Candy Kingdom—Peppermint Butler seems to be the one in charge, given that he is now wearing Bubblegum’s crown. Likewise, the duo aren’t anywhere in the Dead Worlds either. Maybe the two of them skipped town and got a duplex in the Nightosphere? Who knows… I just want my favorite gals to be OK!

All things considered, “Together Again” was a marvel: An episode that managed to feel like a series finale even more than “Come Along with Me” already did without taking away from the series itself. An episode that managed to make the idea of dying funny. An episode that brought back the Lich in a way that wasn’t forced. An episode that made Mr. Fox the New New Death. An episode that gave us a beautiful ending to Finn and Jake’s story… as well as the beautiful beginning to a new one. I said it on Twitter, and I’ll say it again here: “Together Again” was the end of a sentence in a book with infinite pages. Truly, the fun will never end.

Mushroom War evidence: Everything takes place in the Dead Worlds, so not really. Perhaps a more eagle-eyed viewer can inform us...

Final Grade: That’s right, I’m gonna do it...

Post-script, I actually messaged Jesse Moynihan to ask about his writing credit. He told me that it was for an unused story idea that he had developed. I’m not certain, but I’ll bet it was a part of the cancelled TV movie they were trying to make during season 5, since that would’ve seen Finn and Orgalorg journey to the various Dead Worlds.

#adventure time #adventuretime #atimers #at #atdl #distant lands #adventure time distant lands #finn the human #jake the dog #together again #togetheragain #dead worlds #hanna k. nyström #Hanna K #adam muto #jack pendarvis