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joeloverture · 3 months

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sea-cret obsession | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dad's enemy!yachter!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your dad's always had a superiority complex when it comes to his place at austin's finest yacht club. when joel miller joins the club, not only does he dethrone your dad — he also becomes your newest obsession. warnings: (18+ mdni) yachter!joel, dad's enemy!joel, age gap (mid 20s/mid 50s), alcohol, joel is implied to be older than reader's dad - don't read too far into it, reader wears a bikini (anyone can, i promise!), fantasizing, creepyish joel but reader's into it, soft!dom joel, porn with a paper-thin plot, m!receiving oral, throatfucking, facial, cum-eating, f!masturbation, blowjob in the captain's chair, daddy kink (oops), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, degradation, pet names, aftercare [no use of y/n] word count: 2.9k a/n: this was supposed to be a ficlet for @iamasaddie's ✏️game. this is not a ficlet. please suspend your disbelief, this concept simply fell into my lap the moment i saw the wonderful moodboard aly put together for me. go check out the other fics, most of which are much shorter than mine and are absolute brain candy, that stemmed from aly's game!

Austin is hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell, and you haven’t stopped sweating bullets since climbing out of Lake Travis. After an afternoon of floating belly-up in your bikini off of the dock of the yacht club your dad frequents, your need for a drink finally outweighed your need for aimless swimming.

Your bare feet are still burning from the hotfooted walk across the wooden deck into the bar. Water droplets cling to your skin and leave a pattern of stippled concrete in your wake. It’s been a few hours you’ve seen your dad around the club, having already gotten into a pissing contest with new club members over horsepower and amenities. Your dad’s the type to always want the biggest and the best: the most decks, the biggest wine fridge, the nicest galley — because God forbid he lose his running ten-year superiority to a newbie.

So yeah, you need a drink. You don’t even have to order; the bartender, Callie, simply slides your usual order over, which you nurse while watching a preseason football game. You haven’t bothered to sit down, your hip popped out with your elbows propped up on the granite countertop.

You don’t even notice the wolf whistle from behind is directed at you until a man sidles up next to you, flashing a smile at Callie. He looks like he belongs in a yacht club, curls styled and sculpted neatly around his face down to where the collar of his blue blazer begins. Some of the buttons on his striped shirt are undone, and your eyes, much to your chagrin, linger at the slice of tanned chest peeking through the fabric.

He looks you up and down, unabashedly licking his lips when he sees the crease of your thighs. “Sweetheart, you’re much too pretty to be entertainin’ the ragtag kinda men around here.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been hit on by the yachters at this particular club, but it is the first time one of them has caught your eye. “I’m not–” you start before you hear the telltale sign of your dad’s laughter coming from close by. You turn around, drink in hand as he rounds the corner, sunglasses on and a towel around the back of his neck.

Your dad’s expression immediately sours with a speed you’ve never seen in him before. His lips draw tight at the sight of you – or maybe the sight of the man next to you.

“Joel,” your dad says, separating from his entourage. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“Seems it,” the man, presumably Joel, nods, flagging down Callie for an old fashioned. The glass sweats condensation along his sturdy hand. He holds eye contact with you while he sips, only looking away when he runs his tongue along the rim of the glass. “Oughta let me take ‘er for a ride one day. Bet she’d appreciate the fine machinery of a real boat.”

You don’t miss the innuendo to his words even if your dad doesn’t. You scrub your hands along your sides, your sunscreen-sticky skin dewy beneath your palms. You shush the part of yourself that bets you’d appreciate it, too.

“Your boat is maybe good for getting to the retirement home across the lake,” your dad snaps, squeezing your shoulder. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s head home.”

You find your flip flops at the bottom of your beach bag, barely having the time to kick them on before your dad is practically pulling you out of the yacht club. He gives half-hearted waves to his usual boating buddies until you’re in the parking lot, surrounded by heat shimmering over the blacktop. The scalding hot leather seats burn the backs of your thighs and the small of your back as you settle in. With a purr, the air conditioner blows a fresh burst of wind in your face.

“What was that all about?” you ask when he starts the engine.

Your dad clips his sunglasses on his polo shirt, gripping the steering wheel ten and two with a winded sigh through his nose. “Fuckin’... rookie with his triple-decker Ferretti.”

Joel looked rich. But not Ferretti rich. “Who the hell in Austin owns a Ferretti?”

“That son of a bitch, that’s who. I don’t want you runnin’ amok on Joel’s boat, you hear me?”

“Ain’t planning on it,” you respond as if you don’t already know what’ll happen if Joel propositions you again.

You see Joel again soon, but only in passing. A wink behind your father’s back, a drink from the gentleman across the bar that was only coincidentally Joel. The locations of these run-ins are always different. Sometimes you walked by each other on the dock. Sometimes he’d give you both a quick wave from across the water before he sped off, leaving the boat rocking on the stirred up tide and your dad cussing up a storm.

Today’s almost-tryst happens on the dock. You’re walking past Joel’s designated dock in a bikini that you’d nearly thrown out because of its snug fit. You have to smother your disappointment when you don’t see him on the top deck sipping a beer. You know better than to be disappointed over the man who your dad has not only claimed as a mortal enemy, but also claimed as the antichrist. With the thoughts Joel gives you when your hand is between your thighs, it might not be too far from the truth.

You think you have most of it figured out – he’s rough, he has to be. With how relentless as he is on the waters, it makes no sense for him to be anything else. His fancy, custom belt buckles snicking as it comes undone so he can yank his jeans down and get inside of you. Those chains he always wears would hang in your face, swaying with every roll of his hips into yours as he chases his pleasure deep inside of your–

“Woah there, darlin’,” a honeyed voice coaxes you, a muscled arm darting out to stop you in your path. “Almost walked right into the lake.” Your head snaps up to look at Joel, the very inconvenient object of your fantasies. You swallow the quickly-forming lump in the back of your throat. “You sure you ain’t had too many?”

“Positive,” you say. You haven’t even done a shot s0 far today.

“Mmm, alright.” The playful glint in his eyes doesn’t seem too convinced. It makes your heart stutter before you remind it to keep beating. “Tell ya what, you’re welcome to ‘sober up’ on my boat.”

You look between where your dad’s dock sits empty. He’s out with his co-workers today, shooting the shit too much for their own good. Then you look between Joel and his boat, the beauty of a Ferretti that’s just two steps away.

Mouth already watering at the possibilities, you say, “I do remember you promising me a ride, old man.”

Joel’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, and he makes the long step from the dock to the boat, hand held out for you. You don’t hesitate to let him help you aboard.

You’re on your knees in front of the captain’s chair before he gets to the middle of Lake Travis. “Old man,” he mocks above you with his legs spread as far as they can go. You kitten-lick his hardened cock, making sure to lap up the obscene amount of his precum. There’s certainly one part of Joel that doesn’t need to go to a retirement home, and it’s in your mouth. You suckle at the leaking head of his cock while his strokes your cheek, only pulling away to spoon a drop of his precum from your lip onto your tongue. “You like suckin’ an older man’s cock, pretty girl?”

You nod eagerly, taking him deeper so you can tongue the vein along the underside of his cock. From that, he groans, head slumping on the headrest so he can gather himself. You spit a generous amount into your hand, wrapping around the base to properly suck him.

“Bet there’s a whole ‘nother lake in that skimpy lil’ bikini of yours, ain’t that right?” You nod around his length and go a little deeper. He’s heavy on your tongue, long and girthy all at once. He presses lightly against the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him, but you wouldn’t pull away from him even if the yacht itself set on fire. He moans as you start to bob your head up and down. You rub your thighs together just thinking about what his cock could be capable of between your legs. “Mhm, I know, baby. You wanna push that outta the way and give it a rub for me? A rub for your real daddy?”

A choked whimper punches its way out of you. His hips jerk from the vibrations, unintentionally pushing himself further down your throat. You expect it to be too much, but it isn’t. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath as you wrap your hand around the wide palm seated on his thigh and raise it to the back of your head. “Please fuck my throat, daddy,” you pout up at him, a mixture of your spit and his precum dripping down your chin and into your cleavage.

Another groan tugs its way out of him when he looks down at you. He cups the back of your head and brings his cock back to your mouth. “Can’t say no to such a gorgeous fuckin’ face. Gonna look so damn good covered in my cum.” You keep licking his tip, not wanting to miss a single drop of him. “Go ‘head and put a hand on your pussy, baby. Rub that clit that daddy’s got all throbbin’.”

And how could you ever say no to him? Your hand is down your bikini within seconds, peeling your tacky panties away from your cunt so your fingertips can rub circles along your clit. A circle against your swollen core pulls a moan from you right as he thrusts into your throat. He starts out slow, tentative as he pushes all the way into your throat and then pulls all the way out. His second thrust is much harder, stifling your breathing for a moment as a strangled noise of pleasure leave his parted lips.

He nudges you further down onto his cock, burying your nose into the triangle of skin exposed by his rumpled button-down. You force down the gag that builds in the back of your throat. Joel keeps your mouth speared on his cock with shallow rolls of his hips into the warm wetness of your mouth. You whine, prompting a hearty chuckle from him. “Good girl, daddy’s good little girl. Keep playin’ with yourself for me.” He smirks down at you. “Ain’t much different than what you do in your own bed, huh? Pussy just cryin’ for some cock, I bet.”

You moan in agreement as your eyes flutter shut when you rub your clit harder, harder, harder until arousal is smeared all over your knuckles and across your mound. “Nuh-uh,” he says with a punctuating adjustment of his hips. You gag, spit webbing through Joel’s happy trail. “Eyes on me.”

You’re satisfied to find him just as debauched as you feel. Strands of his usually put-together hair are out of place along his forehead, and his golden chain glistens with sweat. His hands grip the arms of the captain’s chair, spread on the tanned leather and exerting dominance over your kneeling silhouette. But you aren’t fooled. There’s a certain rosiness to his cheeks, a flare to his nose, that lets you in on the secret: he’s just as wrecked, just as in deep as you are.

You pull up and immediately sink down on his cock again, pleading eyes looking up at him, asking him. I want it daddy. I want you. And then he’s fucking your throat in earnest. His hips buck up to meet the back of your throat. You struggle to keep up with his size, his pace, but you suck his cock even with the knowledge that you won’t know how to explain your sore throat or raspy voice to your dad.

Joel squints down at you, absorbing the seeping spit from the corners of your raw lips, your droopy, ecstasy-laden eyes. He sighs, sinking down into the chair as he grinds his cock into your mouth and moves your head up and down his length. You take the hand that isn’t playing with your clit and reach to grab at his balls, kneading them. A narrow breath trips out of his lips. “Nasty bitch. Fuck, baby. Daddy’s close. Keep – keep doin’ that.” You drag your tongue along that bottom vein again, kneading one of his balls and making sure that when he pulls you off of his cock, you treat the head to one final taste.

“Open up, slut,” he coaxes. His cock twitches. He jerks himself once, twice, and then cums, rope after rope hitting your damp skin. His cum is hot, sticky, and you’re too preoccupied with trying to catch some of his release that your hand stalls over your cunt. You whimper when his cum lands on your tongue and follow it up by swallowing. Joel’s breath is unsteady as he looks down at you, cock softening in his lap. “Good girl,” he praises, reaching out to run his thumb along your stained skin. Drop by drop, he feeds you his cum, and you lap it up just as eagerly as you’d lapped him up.

You pull your hand out of your bikini when he’s done, tacky arousal stretching between your fingers. Going back on your haunches, you suck in a deep breath through your abused throat.

Joel pats his wide, thick thighs above you, the same ones you’ve been fantasizing about since that first day in the bar. “I promised you a ride, didn’t I?” A familiar, hooked smirk pulls at his mouth. Your face lights up in recognition and you practically scamper onto his thigh, stumbling as you tug your bikini out of the way to settle yourself on the linen coral shorts he has on. Joel laughs, a noise that has your cunt leaking onto the fabric, clit fluttering from the friction. Heat pulls tight in your stomach.

His hands land on your hips, guiding you back and forth when you hesitate at first. “Grind on daddy’s thigh, baby. Wanna see you cum on me.” Your head tips forward, forehead slotting against his shoulder when you start to push your hips into his. Need springs awake in your stomach when he drags you forward. A frayed moan tumbles out of you from his near-manhandling. You rut into Joel, bouncing, grinding yourself on him in the same way that you’d imagined yourself doing at least a dozen times before this.

“Daddy,” you whimper when the muscle goes taut underneath you, plucking something in your cunt. At the same time, a speedboat passes Joel’s yacht outside, leaving the ship rocking on the water in time with your movements as you ride his thigh. You yelp, a strained noise as the pressure intensifies on your clit. “Close!”

He grips your hips even tighter, bounces his thigh up against you. “That’s it, that’s it. Let it happen baby, give it to daddy.”

You come undone with the taste of his cum still rich on your tongue and his words ringing in your buzzing ears. Your orgasm whips through your body and leaves you shuddering against his center, halfheartedly continuing to roll your hips up against him. His thumbs rub circles into your skin while you come down. You suck in a shaky breath, Joel’s palm stroking the small of your back. “Did good for me, baby. Look real pretty when you come. Real pretty.”

You give him a shy smile, and he leans forward to kiss you, a brief moment of gentleness amidst his usually ubiquitous harshness. He pulls away with a tiny pat to your ass. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You stumble off of him on shaky legs, leaning against the captain’s console. Joel pulls his shorts down his thighs and tucks his cock away, the wet spot your cunt had made on him beyond visible as he stretches himself out. He fishes around in a drawer in the galley for his baby wipes and joins you back at the console. He takes them to your face, wiping down where his cum had hit your skin. He even dabs gently at your thighs. Orgasm bliss clings to the edges of your vision still, and you can’t help but lean into him as he takes care of you.

“Could take you for a real ride, now,” Joel says with a moderate shrug. “Nice cove on the west side of the lake, good for a quick swim. I’m sure your dad would throw a fit if he knew, but I’m sure you’re good at keepin’ secrets, too. Got a real good mouth on ya.”

You playfully punch his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, and in that moment, it feels like you’ve known Joel much longer than you have at all. Like this isn’t your first time on his boat, and this wasn’t his first time being in your mouth. “Alright,” you begrudgingly smile at him. “Whatever you say, old man.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he starts the engine.

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #✏️ game club

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year

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Birthday Boy

Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: It’s Jake’s birthday and you have a very special gift for him.

Warnings: this is just a mega fluff monster (i think, anyway). Jake’s all happy being a dad and being in love with his lady and everything. Maybe cursing. Didn’t double check. Allusion to eventual smut that is not in this fic. Just to be safe:18+

Notes: can be read alone, but contributes to the Oh, Baby world as well.

Words: 2422

Oh, Baby Masterlist

Masterlist

*turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing*

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Thirty-four. The number was speckled throughout his house. It was strung together as part of a lengthy banner that was taped to his wall; scribbled in green icing across the center of the vanilla cake you’d baked him with an equal number of rainbow-colored candles sticking out the top; and in the form of two massive shiny, floating balloons in the corner of the living room—Rooster’s addition to the decor, supposedly meant to tease Jake but were obviously brought for your daughter, Eve’s, amusement. And the little girl loved them, immediately crawling across the carpet to stare up at the mirror-like mylar that reflected her fascinated face.

Jake had joked two weeks prior that he was getting old, so you’d taken it upon yourself to plan a party that reminded him of his younger days…his very young days. You’d gone all out, including everything for a kiddie party but the clowns and ponies.

Initially, you weren’t sure how he’d take the surprise—he could see the worry in your twisted features when you observed his wide eyes and gaping mouth—but Jake only grabbed you around the waist and kissed you until everyone grew bored of watching a couple so lost in themselves. No one had ever quite done anything like this for him before. He’d had birthday parties, sure, plenty as a child, but not a single one after his mid-twenties, and never thrown by a woman he loved.

You’d still kept it small. Inviting your shared friends, a few other pilot buddies, Penny and Mav and a couple of the Hard Deck bartenders—one of whom was the pretty blonde Rooster had yet to completely get over despite the year that had passed since first meeting her. Clearly you knew something the rest of them didn’t when it came to the woman because you spent a good bit of time trying to push her and Rooster together. And if Jake could tell by the occasional glances he shot the two, it looked like some progress had been made. Good, Jake thought. He wanted his friends to have what he had.

By far, it was the best party he’d been to, fully surpassing the unknown number of wild nights he'd dedicated to getting hammered in college. Jake liked the intimacy of it all, even more so after it had died down and most guests returned to their own homes, leaving just you and his team remaining.

“Well,” Rooster began after taking a sip of the beer that you’d made sure to pour into a polka-dotted plastic cup, “I hope you enjoy being old, Hangman.”

Phoenix tucked her finger under the elastic band holding the cone-shaped hat to Rooster’s head and pulled it a good few inches away from his face before releasing it. It slapped harshly against his skin and with a frown, he rubbed his palm over the fresh sting.

“If he’s old, we’re all old,” she scolded. “And you should be nice to the birthday boy.”

“The birthday boy’s got enough nice things. He’s got his lovely lady.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes with a chuckle. Then he extended his finger to lightly tickle Eve’s cheek. “And he’s got this little nugget.”

When his daughter giggled in his arms, Jake pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her hair. He smiled contently before turning his head to connect his lips with yours. You both grinned into the kiss, that usual fluttering blooming in his stomach as you placed your hand on his cheek to draw him in closer.

“Ok,” Payback just short of shouted, trying to pull your and Jake's attention back to the surface. “You know other people are here, right? And you’ve got a child in your arms.”

Separating from Jake, you looked back to your group of friends. “That was an innocent kiss.”

Fanboy snorted and took a bite of his cake. “It was no peck,” he mumbled around a mouthful of sponge and frosting.

Jake reached behind you to rest his hand against your lower back, but it lasted there all of five seconds before traveling lower to settle on your ass. "Well, that’s as innocent as we get," he said.

“Pathetic,” Rooster playfully scoffed. “Be less in love with each other.”

“Not a chance, man.”

Everyone released a mocking groan at the sappiness, but Jake only snickered and leaned over to kiss your temple. It wasn’t the first time his teammates had joked about your supposed ‘nauseating’ obsession with one another, but underneath, their love for the two of you together was more than supported.

“We should probably go,” Phoenix said. They all nodded in agreement, hugging you and Jake before giving extra special goodbyes to your daughter. Then they were gone—so much like a herd of wild animals or a school of fish migrating in one giant mass.

Jake blew out a breath. He wasn’t old, but it didn’t mean the man didn’t feel the exhaustion of the long evening.

“Tired?” you asked, extending your arms for Eve.

He handed the girl over to her mother and shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Good, because your night is not over yet.”

Jake’s eyes followed the movement of your finger drawing a line down the row of his shirt buttons. He looked up at you. “Is that right?”

You winked, and as you turned on your heel to go put Eve to bed, Jake began to throw forgotten used cups and plates into the trash. They littered the area but he expected no less. His friends had a habit of bringing a tornado with them just to vanish when time to deal with the aftermath.

“You don’t have to do that, baby,” you said, stepping back down the stairs. He felt your arms snake around his waist a moment later and squeeze. “Come with me instead.”

Taking his hand, you led him to sit in a dining chair and settled yourself onto his lap.

He knew his gaze was burning as it roamed over the features of your face. The only time it wasn’t was when he made sure to tamp down his desire in front of his daughter. But his baby girl was asleep now, and nothing stopped him from unveiling the entirety of what he felt for you.

He was fully prepared to capture your lips in a kiss, but you stopped him when you said, “I got you a birthday present.”

Jake cared; he did. But you’d already given him so much and his neediness for you blocked out any ability to think of what could possibly be more important than you on top of him; he inside of you.

He hummed lowly. “Does it happen to be lacy?” he asked. His fingers slid along the smooth skin of your thigh, pushing up the hem of your dress. “And under here?”

“Yes,” you grinned as you tilted your head down to brush your nose over his. “But I got you something else, too. Something better.”

You hopped up, slipping from his grasp before he could blink and disappearing around the corner into the hall. He instantly felt the gaping hole of your absence; the chill now coating his skin from the sudden loss of your warm body. He wasn’t a fan.

“Honey, I’m not sure there’s much better than you all dolled up in lace,” he called after you.

You returned with your hands tucked behind your back, a sweet smile on your face as you once again took your seat atop his thighs. Jake rose a brow at your barely contained excitement when you whipped an envelope out and held it in front of his face. He leaned back a bit to get a good look, but the crisp, white folded paper was blank.

“What is this?”

“You have to open it and read.”

He did as told and took it from your hands, lifting the unsealed flap and pulling out another folded sheet of paper. One of his arms snuck around your waist, holding your body flush against his again—tighter this time so you had no chance of escape—as he began to read aloud.

“Petition for a change of name of a mi—” Jake’s voice caught on the syllable. His whole body, organs and all, briefly froze within him. A swallow strained his throat. “Minor,” he finally finished. He let the word settle on his tongue and when his brain regained functioning and fully processed the weight of its meaning, his eyes flicked over to yours. “Are you serious?”

Nodding with surety and cupping his cheek, you said, “I want to change her name. You just have to agree and we’ll sign some papers.”

The tears began to cloud his vision, fuzzing the words on the page as he read them again and again. “So, she’d…”

“She’d be Eve Seresin.”

Jake had imagined it before, dreamed about it. His sweet family—a small unit of Seresins that might one day grow into a decent sized bunch. You and he outnumbered by a group of little ones. But since your baby girl was such a surprise and you’d had Eve without him there—without him even in the picture at the time—her name was yours. Jake was fine with that. Of course, he was. It only made sense, and he wasn’t going to demand his daughter take his name just because you and he were officially together. But he couldn’t deny how the thought of his baby girl being a Seresin in name delightfully tightened his chest. He wouldn’t be too terribly upset by his woman sharing his name, either.

With your free hand, you brushed away the escaped salty droplet that slipped down his cheek. He met your eyes again.

“Honey, are you sure? Just because she doesn’t have my name, doesn’t mean—”

You shook your head. “I know, but your family name means something to you,” you said. “Besides, I imagine we’d be doing this sooner or later, and with Eve starting daycare in a couple of months it’s really the perfect time.”

You’re amazing, you know that? He thought about saying it every time he looked at you. Every time he saw you walk through the door, or take care of your daughter, or when you crawled into bed and cuddled up to him. And moments like this, when you expressed your devotion in such wonderful, unexpected ways.

Jake put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you down for the kiss he’d been desperate to give you. It was a pattern of long kisses between short kisses, with some kisses making their way to cheeks and jawlines, and eventually, his lips found the sweet, delicate skin of your neck, sucking red marks into the flesh. He liked those marks—made sure to give them to you often—a new one for every old one that disappeared. He was especially adamant about it once you’d started back to work at the bar, remembering all too clearly the wide range of drunk men that went far out of their way to hit on you. But you were his now. You shared a daughter, you had a future, and he didn’t need other guys thinking they were going to get lucky with his lady. And though you didn’t give him the satisfaction, he knew you secretly loved it, too.

You moaned, your head naturally falling to the side to open access to more of your skin, and Jake gripped your neck a bit harder, holding you still as he took a gentle bite.

“I love you,” he whispered against your neck, licking over the fresh mark to soothe the tenderness before lifting his head. “And you gave me a wonderful gift.”

The glimmer in your eye—he lived for that glimmer. That little shine of pride. “Yea?”

“Yea.” He smiled softly. “Any chance you want to get your name changed, too?”

That smile morphed into a pout, his bottom lip slightly puckering.

“Don’t puppy-dog-eyes me, Seresin.”

“But Honey, I can get a wedding together so fast.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, but your lips were struggling to stay in a straight line. They begged to curve upwards; to part and bare your white teeth in the perfect smile that had taken him to his damn knees the first time he saw you.

Jake loved when he could get your smile to break through any emotion you were feeling or trying to portray. He was convinced that was one of the reasons you worked so well together. Crying, irritated, exhausted—didn’t matter what it was, he could find some way to get you to crack a smile. Now was no different.

He knew you weren’t going to say yes; your relationship was officially only six months old and you’d always lived by a hard line of being with a man for a year before getting married. He knew this before you even slept together, back when you were friends exchanging innocent thoughts about potential futures. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy hinting at the subject every once in a while.

“We’ll talk about it,” you said, moving one of his stray blond locks back into place. “But let's start with our daughter’s.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

He accepted your kiss—your promise that when he asked you that question for real, you would say yes. That was enough for him. When you were ready, he would get down on his knee and present the ring he’d had made a month ago, and you would start another chapter. But for now, everything he had was enough. More than enough. More than he could’ve dreamed of.

“Would you like to have your other present now?” you asked.

Your finger slowly traced the neckline of your dress, pulling down just a bit to reveal the lacy trim of your bra.

Jake took in a deep inhale through his nose and let the exhale fill his cheeks as it left his body. Just under that dress was a layer of thin, intricate material in a deep shade of red just barely covering some of his favorite parts of you. Swallowing hard, he replaced your finger with his and pulled the front of your dress lower to expose more of the garment. The lace barely contained the swell of your breasts, and he instantly hardened beneath you, cock straining against the zipper of his jeans.

With his eyes still glued to your cleavage, he nodded. “I would absolutely love to have my other present now.”

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twisted-nina · 4 months

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Idia Shroud with Robecca Steam!reader

➥ 🇷 🇪 🇶 🇺 🇪 🇸 🇹 🇪 🇩 : 🇳 🇴 a/n : Headcanons about what it would be like if Idia had a s/o like Robecca Steam from Monster High, I plan to do it for the other leaders and maybe do another one for Ever After High. If you read it on another blog, I'm still the original writer, I just decided to move to another blog. w a r n i n g : Mention of panic attacks and anxiety, "Death" suggested but not actually. English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes ( ╥ω╥ ).

You were raised by the same context as Ortho. Your father was a great mad scientist who lost his daughter, the "original" you.

You probably met because Idia went after your father to ask for help with Ortho and you were in the laboratory with him.

To say that Idia is beyond amazed by you is an understatement.

During the years he spent recreating Ortho, you were the only person he allowed to be by his side. Helping him and making sure he was well taken care of.

Idia is completely obsessed with you.

Everything about you fascinates him. How you function, whether you can feel emotions, your routine, your aesthetics. Everything.

100% made a steampunk costume for Ortho so you two match.

One of his favorite pastimes is watching you and Ortho interact. Just seeing you and his brother floating around and playing tag brings him peace and eases his anxiety.

He also loves checking up on you. After your father gave him permission, Idia likes to see what he can do better in his function. Although you look old on the outside, you have the best and most modern system on the inside.

Even when Idia went to NRC, you still stay in constant contact and you also visit him when you can.

Ignihyde students really appreciate it when you visit their dorm and always ask you questions. Which could make Idia jealous and lead to a long session of him cuddling with you in bed.

❝ Hey. I am truly grateful to have you by my side all these years. I-I don't know what it's like for you b-but I l-love you. ❞

Many people don't understand their relationship and sometimes Idia doesn't either.

Idia knows that he loves you with all his heart and knows that you also love him in your own way, but sometimes he has doubts.

You are not really human, although you have your own consciousness and can feel to some extent… you are not human.

and that's what Idia is afraid of.

Since he met you, sometimes you have "flaws".

Although it doesn't happen anymore and has become a rare occurrence, Idia vividly remembers the day you hung up.

Sometimes you need to "sleep" to recharge your energy but on this specific day you just switched off out of nowhere.

Your father thinks that some part inside you malfunctioned and then fixed it, making you fully functional again.

But Idia remembers the trauma it caused. For weeks he wouldn't leave your side for anything and stayed sleepless nights just to watch you recharge.

Even though you receive updates whenever there is something more advanced, Idia lived in constant fear and it is at these times when you need to stay by his side to prevent him from collapsing and avoid a panic attack.

Another fear he has is that you will lose the feeling of love and that along with that you will lose interest in him.

Once, during an anxiety attack, Idia told you about this fear and the answer you gave brought him to his knees.

You said that even if you impossibly lost the ability to have feelings, you would never EVER leave his side. Years ago, when he was mourning his lost brother and doing everything possible and impossible to bring him back from you, you drilled deep into yourself that you would never leave him.

Regardless of what would happen, you would be by his side until his "heart" stops beating.

Idia may or may not have proposed to you after that.

Overall, Idia considers herself very lucky to have you by her side. He loves you very much and he loves the family (you and Ortho) he has.

Idia knows that their relationship is not "conventional", but honestly, he wouldn't change anything and would do it all over again.

#twisted wonderland #idia shroud #twst idia #idia x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #idia headcanons #idia shround headcanons #Robecca Steam!reader

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samobservessonic · 6 months

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Why do you want to read Sonic the Comic?

The short answer is because it was my intro to the Sonic series as a whole, but I haven’t reread most of it since I was a kid. But I’ll go into a little more detail about that below the readmore, as well as outlining what I will and won’t be reading for this blog

Sonic the Comic issue #80 rewired my brain and changed my life

Now, the first issue of StC that I bought as a kid was #80. I should add a disclaimer here that there was a kid I knew back then who recommended me the comics - she had issues #78 and #79, so I probably at least glimpsed those as well. But #80 was the first issue that I had for myself (and I still have my copy!), so that’s the one that gave me my first impression of Sonic

I’m sure StC fans will know why this issue was a big one and even Sonic fans who have a casual familiarity with StC will probably see Super Sonic on the cover and guess that a lot of stuff happens in this issue… and you’d be right! I’ll save the review for when I actually get to this issue in my reread, but the basic premise is that Sonic goes to visit his friend Porker Lewis on the Floating Island (later known as Angel Island in the games), where the chaos emeralds and master emerald are kept suspended above a giant… hole thing that holds their power (kid me didn’t ask questions, adult me still doesn’t). Sonic fell in this hole and got a full whack of their power, turning him into the evil Super Sonic who’s hellbent on destroying the last person who’d been on Sonic’s mind, who happened to be Amy Rose

The story ends on this cliffhanger and I can pin-point this single image as the reason I got into Sonic in the first place

…Like, look at this!! The art is so cool! What’s going to happen to Amy Rose? Why has Sonic turned into a crazy powerful being who wants to kill her? I have to know more! I have to get the next issue and maybe devote my entire life to this series! Like, Super Sonic looks so powerful and Tails looks terrified of him! But Amy still looks quite calm and collected. Maybe she’s only just noticed Super Sonic zooming into the scene or maybe she’s just composed enough to not be as fearful of him as Tails is. Obviously, even without knowing anything about the series, I could tell that Amy is Sonic’s friend and I want her to be okay. But something about seeing her reaction in this panel made it seem like the “Next Issue: Amy vs Super Sonic!” advertised at the bottom of this page wouldn’t be as one-sided as some might expect it would be And that’s how, on (roughly) 21st June 1996, an 8-year-old who’d just spent their £1.20 pocket-money had their socks blown off by a Sonic comic (Out of curiosity, I looked up where Archie Sonic was at around this time and it was… issue #37! The Knuckles spin-off comics would also be released the month after this. But I wouldn’t know about the existence of either of these until later)

Now, 80 issues into an on-going series is obviously a late point to hop on, but I can honestly say that it never hindered me reading the comics as a kid. Every two weeks I’d get to see Sonic and his friends have adventures and sometimes they’d mention established lore that I might not have known, but it was easy just to write that off as something from an earlier issue and carry on Also, after a certain point, StC started to reprint older stories. Which was both a blessing and a curse, because on one hand it meant that I could catch up with older stories I hadn’t read before, but on the other hand it deprived the issues of newer stories, until the comic would eventually become entirely reprints from issue #185. Even so, I can confidently say that there are probably stories in the first 79 issues of the series that I’ve never read, so I’m looking forward to getting to those on my read-through So, will you stop reading at issue #184? While I intend to read from #1-184, the reprints issues do feature new covers from Richard Elson

Many of which show newer takes on earlier stories, featuring the green-eyed Sonic of the modern era. So while it’s far away now, I’ll most-likely do a post about these covers to conclude my read-through. Although man, looking at #185’s cover in particular puts me right back into being there as a kid, expecting to see new stories, only to open the comic and get entirely reprints…

Will you be reading the non-Sonic stories?

Early on in its run, StC featured stories from other SEGA titles of the time, before committing to being entirely about Sonic. While not to diminish the merits of these stories, I just don’t have the same familiarity with most of their source material that I do for Sonic, so I won’t be reading them. The exceptions being probably the Ecco stories (because I did play Ecco as a kid) and Decap Attack, because Decap Attack was still running after I started reading the comic and I remember enjoying it. But I won’t be blogging about either of these in the same way that I will be the Sonic comics themselves, so you won’t have to skim past posts about loads of other series to get to the Sonic stuff

What about the Sonic spin-offs?

I will absolutely be reading these once I find or make a good reading-order that slots them into their proper place. The above summer ‘96 special was also one of my first StC issues and I remember it fondly

What about the Captain Plunder stories?

Yep! Captain Plunder exists in Sonic’s universe and I enjoyed his standalone stories as a kid, so I’ll be including him in my reread Anything else?

For a time, StC included game reviews and ofc they also had a fanmail and fan art section, like Archie and IDW. For the most part, I’ll only be including small bits of these that I find interesting or relevant, but I won’t be talking about them wholesale. Though I’m sure that a Sonic comic’s reviews of Sonic games will be worth a look at

#sonic the comic #sam observes sonic #stc blogging #sonic the hedgehog #super sonic #amy rose #captain plunder #decap attack

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sewmice · 2 months

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Hai as a decently new utapri fan I wanted to ask your opinion on how new fans should get into utapri after finishing the anime. Should they play through the otomes games or maybe try listening to the Masterpiece shows instead?

Welcome to Utapri! I hope you're enjoying the ride so far! And as someone who has been here for 12 years, welcome to Utapri hell, this is your life now! (with love of course)

Since the Masterpiece shows are all alternate universes/acting, it doesn't technically matter? So the real question is, do you like the idol side or the romance side more? Idol side, go for the masterpiece shows. Romance go for the games. And honestly switch around as you please. Just get to SOME game knowledge at some point because that's where you really learn about the boys after all. Personally it's best to know at least a little from everything.

Also the next most important thing will be whether you know Japanese or not. Because currently the anime, movies, and Starish special are the only things available in English. So what you can enjoy is more limited. Shining Live was in English for it's lifespan, and has some archives out there. Live Emotion we can only hope will have an English version but we do not know currently.

Now my answer to assist gets real long so gonna put it under a cut for everyone's sanity.

If you know Japanese, absolutely go enjoy the otome games, all of which have updated ports on the Switch! The release order and thus suggested order would be Repeat, Amazing Aria and Sweet Serenade, Debut, All Star, and finally All Star After Secret. And one day we'll have Dolce Vita.

If you want Quartet Night, while you meet them in Debut, their routes start with All Star. Ringo and Ryuuya have routes in Sweet Serenade and All Star if you're looking for them. Mitsuo in Amazing Aria is well....you'll see.

If you don't know Japanese, I still suggest looking into the games, but your options are more limited. ShiningWonderland has a fantastic crew pushing out translations. They're working on Repeat for Starish and All Star for QN currently. Couple of the routes are finished for at least one ending and others seem to be nearing completion. But I can't speak for that team past that. They are all wonderful people though!

If you don't mind getting a shortened, not amazing experience. There are some old summaries floating around from Breadmasterlee. Those, plus some friends who could understand enough, were how I learned parts of the games back in the day. Not the preferred experience though.

You could also technically struggle your way through with like Google Lens translation? Definitely not recommended though.

As for the masterpiece shows, again if you know Japanese, just enjoy them. If you wanna know what order they released in, the sets were as follows: Masquerade Mirage, Tenka Muteki no Shinobimichi, and Joker Trap Bloody Shadows, Pirates of the Frontier, Every Buddy!, and Polaris Lost Alice, Trios, and The Forest of Lycoris Dreaming of OZ, Never Again Neverland, and Faust Last Cantata

I know that next to last set, the Shining Masterpiece Shows, have translations by Kanasmusings. You can also find translations for some other dramas there, and subtitles for a majority of the stage plays (you will need your own file or DVD/BD).

The most recent Dramatic Masterpiece Shows seem to be works in progress at the moment. I know utapri-translations-uuuu is working on Heavens! And the CDs can be found in my masterlist.

The older ones I don't know off the top of my head if translations exist at all.

There are also Discord servers amongst the community, some public and some private, with resources and amazing people. But I'm not sure on how appropriate it would be to post the public ones. They don't allow piracy so as much as I push buying legally, uh, understandably linking from my blog publicly feels wrong. You can very likely find said discords via the Twitter fandom. Or talk to me in DMs.

This is a lot of info I know. Trying to cover as many bases as I can off the top of my head! Enjoy Utapri!

#uta no prince sama #utapri

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almamadrigalfanclub · 10 months

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Alma Saves Pedro

Cause she too og to let him just like that

-----

Alma watched as her husband's blood flooded the river, the golden light of the candle in front of her momentarily forgotten as she watched everything happen. She felt the ground shake and she saw mountains closing in on her, her triplets, and the townsfolk behind them. She looked at Pedro, who lay in the river. But...he wasn't floating. No, no he was sinking. His chest was, albeit barely, moving and his eyes weren't glazed over.

That means he is still alive.

She can still save him.

Alma clutched her triplets close. Using the last of what little strength she had, she hobbled forward, her determination pushing her. She wadded into the river, her hand reaching out. She could hear the other townspeople behind her protesting, but she wasn't listening. She needed to save Pedro. She had to.

Her free arm shot into the water, frantically moving around, searching. "Come on, come on...!" Her hand brushed against something, clothing. A shirt. She grabbed and yanked as hard as she could--Pedro emerged, sputtering blood and water. His drooping eyes looked into Alma's and he say nothing but pure love and dedication.

"Till death do us part..." Alma heaved and looked down at Pedro. "I'm not ready to part yet, mi amor," she said. She looked up, calling out for help. Two men quickly dropped their bags and things, rushing to help Alma pull Pedro out, while a few women helped her out of the river, ensuring she and her triplets were ok. Pedro was quickly pulled aside, and Alma sat next to him, holding his hand.

Pedro looked up at Alma, smiling gently. The candle (which had still been lit and was glowing very brightly), lit up his face, and Alma had tears in her eyes as she watch one of the town doctors tend to Pedro's chest wound. He tried to speak but the doctor instructed him not to, so he didn't lose any more blood as he wrapped up his chest, holding it closed. Something about neesing to sew him up as soon as possible. But Alma wasn't listening. She knew didn't need to hear Pedro. She was just glad he was alive.

Alma watched as he was carried off on a horse, towards the giant house that had just appeared on the hill, among the other houses that had formed a small village of some kind. A kind woman, an old nurse, wrapped Alma and her triplets in a blanket, guiding them to follow behind her husband and the other medical team. "You must really love your husband don't you?" She asked, wrapping a warm hand around Alma's shoulder as the last of the mountains closed up.

"More than anything. I couldn't let him die. I couldn't let him go," Alma confessed, looking down at her babies who were now staring wide-eyed at their mother.

"I believe you. I really do. You were brave, and, well, maybe a little dumb to do that," The nurse smiled, her wrinkles creasing as she looked at Alma, and the mother laughed softly under her breath as she entered the house (which waved at her. Now she had seen it all.) "But...I believe it's a miracle you managed to save him."

Alma looked into her free hand where her and Pedro's wedding candle was. It pulsed with some kind of energy, glowing impossibly bright. Her face softened as she was guided to sit down. "Yeah. It was a miracle huh?"

-----

Y'all like it? First time posting writing over on this blog but I hope y'all enjoy it anyway (≧∇≦)/

Probably gonna post another one later, its from a different au tho <333

Also gonna put my oneshot book on AO3 (not just Alma but there are Alma stories and y'all would be able to request lol)

#alma madrigal #encanto #encanto abuela #encanto alma #alma madrigal fan club #encanto au #art #encanto pedro #pedro madrigal #pedro lives au

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666frames · 5 months

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The Night of the Seagulls (1975)

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flowerywhispers · 2 years

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Heyy 💕 Can I request a headcannon of Yandere Claude De Alger Obelia with Athanasia's teacher? Like she's 26 years old ,kind, really beatiful and is courted by many men. She is a mother for Athanasia so he becomes obsessed with her but she doesn't fancy him because he's Athy's dad and older than her. What would he do to have her?

Dont answer If u dont want to ❤️ PS: I discovered ur blog yesterday and I really like it! XXX

| | Yandere Claude with an MC who is Athanasia's teacher | |

Character(s): Claude de Alger obelia

TW: Yandere and everything that comes with it, forced relationship, age gap (not extreme since reader is a grown adult; but still a large gap), threats, murder/almost murder, misogyny (? He assumes you're being nice because you want attention)

Notes: Female MC || Y'all are fuelling my yandere obsession wgduabd || ALSO THANK YOU 💗💗

The ideal situation would be not to be noticed by him at all but that's difficult considering Athanasia's attachment to you and Claude's need to constantly know who is interacting with the princess

Her immediate attachment to you is what interests him to begin with especially considering that the only person that he would consider to be closer to her is Lily. Even Felix isn't treated by her like how she treats you

There's an initial kind of annoyance that he feels towards you in the same way that he gets annoyed whenever Felix is around Athy, immediately requesting information about you which confuses all that are involved

Even he isn't entirely aware what he intends to do with the information and why he wants it but he only demands for more information when he realises how widely desired you are. And yet you were still unmarried? Did you really like the attention of other people so much? Then no wonder you were so kind to others

Perhaps to find a reason to get you away from his daughter, a rumour that starts to flutter around and leads to Athy begging him not to fire you or kill you

From there, he makes a point to keep a close eye on you, occasionally inviting you to tea, either alone or with Athy

He thinks that maybe it was his annoyance that blinded him but he comes to realise just how perfect you seem to be. Beautiful, kind, no wonder there were so many men vying for your attention. Even when the rumours were spreading that Claude wanted to get rid of you were floating around, he you didn't treat him with anything other than respect and, above all, kindness

You never failed to greet him with that smile of yours that had once made him narrow his eyes and glare and now made his pupils diallate and his gaze linger for a few seconds longer than one would expect from him

Everyone notices the change in his demeanour towards you

From cold and keeping you close only to keep an eye on you and find a reason to keep you away from Athy to softer and more fixated, telling the chef's to not only bring out sweets when you and Athy were with him but also to bring out a few foods specifically to your tastes

You are anything but incompetent, you weren't hired to be Athanasia's teacher for no reason, so even you can see his intentions to court you. It wasn't a reaction that you were unused to and you knew that it wasn't appropriate

His obsession really sets in when you start to avoid him as a result. Excuses that Claude thought to be ridiculous like the fact that it was below your standing and that it would be inappropriate for you as an unmarried woman to be seen with the emperor and your employer as well as the father of your charge so often. Did you really think that the opinions of outsiders held any weight to him?

Do you really think that you'll be able to evade the emperor? And with your placement as his daughter's teacher?

A kind of presumptuous paranoia sets into Claude as he begins to wonder if you're spending time with the other men who are interested in you

It's almost obvious what had happened when said men start to disappear, some of them being killed publicly for inflated charges

Your housing is moved into the emerald palace and you have no right to refuse to emperor's orders

His presence which had initially only appeared at tea parties that you thought you were only formally being invited to starts to become oppressive

He starts to observe your lessons with Athy, calling on you on the odd occasion to look over his paperwork and help him with it and it starts to feel like he's everywhere

You haven't talked to anyone other than Claude, Athy or Felix in months by a certain point. Even Lily isn't permitted to enter the emperor's palace

You reach a kind of breaking point when he finally stops permitting you to leave the palace grounds at all. It's not unexpected but your reaction is

He almost kills you when you snap at him, tears blurring your vision as you yell that you want to leave. Where did your kindness go? You never even so much as looked at him with distaste despite everything that he did

What, was it all a lie? Your kindness towards him? You should know better than to deceive the emperor

He's aware in his subconscious that you aren't truly selfish but he can't help but ask you what more you could possibly want. He gives you everything and you continue to be kind to him. Are you so selfish that you would take away that kindness after he's done everything for you? Perhaps he should take more from you rather than just your kindness if you're so insistent to be so selfish. Perhaps it was time to formally announce your engagement to the emperor

You keep your mouth shut after that. Regardless of how much he favours you, even you know that he could and would kill you

He doesn't stop you from teaching Athy. Not when he knows that she's the only thing that kept you smiling

You'll have to be sure to keep treating him with that same kindness. He wouldn't be happy to have to hold Athanasia's indefinite removal from your life over your head and snuff out that happiness of yours that he had given so much for

Do not repost or claim. Only reblog 💗

#wmmap claude #wmmap #claude de lger obelia x reader #claude de alger obelia #who made me a princess headcanon #who made me a princess x reader #who made me a princess #tw yandere #wmmap headcanon #wmmap hc #who made me a princess hc #spoowrites

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smokeys-house · 1 year

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So you've seen her around, and maybe you're wondering... What's the deal with Puukko? Who is this mysterious moomin flooding the tags? Or maybe you're just a curious sort. Either way, this post will serve as an updated introduction!

Art by @pink-nubes ❤️

The long story short

She's my moomin oc. I've been writing about her a long while now and if you're reading this you've probably seen some art of her floating around, too!

The longer version

Along the French Riviera, a young moomin girl is raised by two parents of meager status. Her fur is brown and bristly, and she doesn't say much. They call her Pinecone on account of her shape and fur, just until she's old enough to choose a name.

As she got older, she took to working at the docks to help support her mother, who has fallen ill. Sometime after, her father makes his leave, claiming that he'd be back after he struck it rich. He had a plan, but Puukko was never quite sure if he was telling the truth or just couldn't bear to see his wife like this and support a child. He was never seen again, and soon after, her mother passed as well. She took up the name Puukko after apprenticing with a blacksmith at port around this time. She's not sure what drove her to piracy, but she spent the next many years as a pirate during piracy's golden age.

During her adventures, she encounters a young fillyjonk woman named Marion. I won't spoil too much since it's still in the works, but after duelling Marion's father in Marseille for his daughter's freedom from an arranged marriage, she received her classic scar, and earned a name as a pirate figure of legend. Edit: you can now read The Cane King's Daughter & TCKD: A Story for Another Time on my blog and on my ao3!

Marion joined up with the pirate, now known as Captain Whetstone, and spent many years adventuring with her crew. They shared a deep bond, though they never admitted to one another their feelings. Eventually, their reputation would catch up with them, and the king would no longer turn a blind eye to pirates. He issued a proclamation declaring that any and all pirates who surrendered themselves before a certain date were to be given a royal pardon for any crimes committed during their time as pirates, else they be hunted and bounties set upon them. Captain Whetstone, being a particular thorn in the side of the crown, was extended one mercy beyond the pardon that she did not initially accept. Her crew was captured, and Marion along with them, She was to turn herself in or they would all be tried and likely executed. She struck a deal, albeit by force, claiming that any illegal acts committed during the course of "negotiations" would be pardoned alongside her crimes as a pirate.

They sentenced her to punishment by transportation, and had her swear an oath to never board a ship again. She was sent away, and her crew was given their freedom. She found herself in the west, wild as at was at the time, and attempted to make a new life for herself. This was short-lived, and eventually she found herself where she is today.

These days, she's back to calling herself Puukko, and lives in a moominhouse of her own high in the lonely mountains. She plies her trade as a blacksmith, telling stories of the old days and occasionally stopping by down in the valley and elsewhere. She's an old woman now, and rather delights in that fact. She's a little odd and eccentric, but who isn't in moominvalley?

Okay, but why is she brown? Moomin fur is white!

Quite clever, dear reader, and I'm glad you asked! You see, Puukko is a winter creature. A winter moomin, to be specific. What does this mean? Well, you remember this fellow here:

The Ancestor. To my knowledge, they appear in every adaptation of The Moomins (this one's from the 2019 Moominvalley), and I believe every time it's mentioned that they slept in stovepipes. Here's where I diverge from canon and into speculation.

I headcanon that moomins as a species, upon becoming too big to sleep in stovepipes, began sleeping in large huddles to disguise themselves as snow mounds in winter and keep warm. Instead of joining the moominpile as it were, some of them stayed awake during the winter and retained their fluffy brown Ancestor-like fur, but otherwise similarly developed more moomin features. Winter moomins have thick brown fur, are taller and wider than your average moomin, and are ill suited to summer and hot climates. Even though Puukko as a character pre-dates my watching of the 2019 series, I also really like too-tikki's description and characterization of winter creatures during the ancestor episode.

Why does her name mean "knife?"

The knife part is simple. Most folks in the valley are named after what they are, or are known for what they do. A "puukko" is a kind of Finnish general purpose knife, and I thought it well suited her character as well as fit the theme for her pirate name, Captain Whetstone. Which also has a reason, but you should read my stories to find that one out!

When I was first designing her and thinking up stories, I was watching through the 90s Moomin series again, and I had begun collecting screencaps of all the knives. Lots of folks in the valley have them in the 90s series, and they all look well made but handcrafted.

And so I figured my OC would be a blacksmith. She's the one responsible for making all the pretty little knives in Moominvalley! From there on I tried my best to suit her to canon, but at the time I had only seen the 90s series and the Riviera movie. She's grown and changed over time, and I've written lots of things about her!

That's all, folks!

Thanks for reading! If you're curious about her, or have any other questions, or just have something to say, please feel free to reach out! My ask box is always open, and anonymous asks are always on. I love talking about Puukko, and I love talking about moomins in general. It's one of my biggest passions! There's a tag directory in my pinned post (which is probably how you got here if you're not seeing this in the tag or in your dashboard feed) which should lead you to art of her (simply tagged "puukko"), stories of her (tagged "whetstone's whispers), and other information (tagged "capitan's cabin").

❤️❤️❤️

#smokey talks #moomins #moomin oc #what's the deal with Puukko?#puukko

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darthmaulification · 2 years

Note

for the request, something involving darth maul and alien senses? maybe he likes to look at reader in a nearly dark room where they can't see how fond his expression is but he can still see them clearly, or how his hearing and smelling is far more acute than a humans.

A/N: ... so... back to the regularly scheduled program... totally doesn’t feel like a very strange 180...

my last posts/reblogs have been very political, so if you didn’t follow me for that sort of thing, i get it, but also this is my blog, and i’m politically active irl, and politics are dumb but important, especially with what’s been going on in america.

it’s rough on my mental health and general wellbeing, so i tried to distract myself by finishing up this request from... months ago. oops. 😬

hope you enjoy! kiitos! 💗

content: fluff/general, gn!reader, alien biology (sight and smell/taste), established relationship, stranded in space, slightly suggestive, sharing a bed

word count: 1,849

sight

In an instant, the ship is plunged into darkness.

It’s disorienting, almost dizzying, the way that in one moment you could see, and the next you couldn’t. The lights that went out were the ship’s last, the old space freighter that Maul and you... co-opted having taken some damage in the skirmish with the Weequay pirates that once controlled it. Launching into hyperspace in this rust bucket had been a poor decision, you surmised, and you thought of Maul who absolutely knew you were right when you previously advised him not to.

Now, the ship, with Maul and you trapped within it’s metal walls, floats somewhere in deep space, so deep there’s no visible stars, far away from any planet...

And in complete, utter darkness. The pitch black feels consuming, oppressive, and you blink rapidly but nothing changes— only the warmth on your eyeballs shifts. There’s a shuffle of fabric and metal clanking from somewhere around you, and you swivel your head in the direction you think the noise came from.

“Maul?” You call out, taking a single, tentative step because before the ship had lost full power, you had been unlucky enough to be up from the copilots chair and halfway across the cockpit. He doesn’t reply, there’s no other noise, and you strain to listen— practically hearing the blood pump in your veins, your own breathing, your heartbeat. Everything is amplified with your sense of sight stripped, everything is practically tangible.

“Maul?” You say his name again, growing increasingly uncomfortable with his silence, eyes darting uselessly and seeing nothing. It also feels as though your voice sounds louder in the inky blackness, reverberates more effectively off hidden metal walls. Maker, it’s impressive— This isn’t your average, everyday darkness— this is advanced darkness. You frown, shuffling and almost stumbling over your own feet.

“Maul, I’m serious. You better not be mes—” Two large, warm hands grab each of your forearms and pulls a small shriek from your lips. Heart racing, Maul responds with a low chuckle— from directly in front of you— and his presence, the heat of him, becomes so prominent it’s almost overwhelming. Your thoughts go wild: How long has he been there? How was he so quiet? How did he know exactly where you—

“Easy, my dear.” He purrs, teasingly, and one of his hands releases your arm, and you tense lightly when it reappears at your hip. You’re quick to relax, especially when Maul’s thumb rubs circles over your pants, occasionally hooks in your belt loop. Lips curling up in a quirked smile, your brows furrow when Maul chuckles under his breath.

“Maker, you are cruel!” You laugh, reaching up and smacking his chest, though your aim is off and you think you clip the edge his shoulder instead. It’s at that moment— your hands clumsily grasping at his chest, his tunic, fingers splaying and toying— that you look up, and in the infinite shadows you’re able to see one thing— or technically two:

Maul’s eyes.

Yes, his eyes— twin yellow orbs sitting directly where his eyeline would be when he stands, twin flames in the dark. They glow, the fiery yellows and oranges stand out against the inky backdrop, superimposed via the right of soft, amber light that emits from them. Of course— Dathomir, Zabraks, night vision.

“Hello.” Maul drawls, and he blinks, the phantasmal flames of his irises disappearing for a split second, then reappearing— his pupils ablaze. Mirth dances in them, his expression so clearly that mix of smug and prideful he gets when he’s acting mischievous.

“Hi.” You reply softly, smiling when Maul cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb grazing along your bottom lip. He lightly lifts your chin, tilting your head side to side curiously, toying with you like a Loth cat would it’s prey. His blistering gaze goes dewy, his eyelids falling halfway and skewing the glow. Maul’s warm thumb passes your lips again, and this time you kiss it. You can see the smile in his stare.

“Mm... how screwed do you think we are?” You inquire, half serious, half-joking, mostly because you’re too lost in the tenderness to really care. Maul shrugs under your palms, and his eyes close (again) then open (again) and it’s so visceral how you’re able to watch them flicker— Like candle lights or will-o’-the-wisps.

“Decently. Savage might know where we are.” Maul deadpans, and you know you’ll both have plenty of time to somewhat panic later (especially when the cold of space starts to seep at the ship), but for now you’re able to find solace in each other. Maul leans in and kisses your smiling cheek, then pulls back and turns towards the transparisteel canopy of the cockpit. Just beyond the glass, the inky black of starless infinity sits in wait.

“Well, then...” You start, taking a couple cautious steps towards Maul and his blistering eyes, “That just means we have some... us time.”

Although you can’t see it, Maul’s face splits into a wolfish grin, and as you reach his arms, it grows and reaches his eyes which flash like a supernova. Maul seizes you by your waist in the darkness, and a squeal escapes you when he lifts you up into his arms. Then, a heated kiss is pressed to your collar bone, teeth pulling and gnashing at the fabric of your shirt as Maul’s frenzied lips pull away.

“Oh, indeed.” And his mouth then falls on yours, all tongue and passion with hardly any care for the world. Your face warms, and you succumb to the heat of Maul, all his shadows, and his twin flames.

scent (+ taste)

The balcony curtains sway gently in the breeze, the soft rose light of early morning on Mandalore spilling into the suite. Sunbeams touch your closed eyes, and with a groan, you turn and dig your face into the plush pillow beneath your head. Silken sheets and a soft mattress beckon you back to the clutches of sleep, but besides you, your lover stirs as well.

Maul groans, then sighs low out his nose with a deep exhale, and then goes quiet. You smile into your pillow, not bothering to open your eyes to see that Maul’s awake, his stare on you. It’s so strong, even after just waking, that you can feel it prickle your skin. Goosebumps raise, hairs stand on end, and the bed dips as Maul purrs, “Good morning, my dear.”

Two warm hands press on your back, kneading your muscles and gliding up and down your spine. You make a noncommittal noise, opting to play the long game that both you and Maul enjoy. When you don’t offer any further response, Maul growls lightly and in your head you can practically see the pout of a sneer on his face.

“Good morning, my dear.” Maul repeats with a bit more force, though there’s no bite to his words. Testing your luck, you make a soft grunt again and Maul’s hands freeze on your sides, then squeeze your plush. It’s the long game, the fun one that all too often you and Maul play— pushing boundaries and pressing buttons. Anything to ruffle each other’s feathers, all in good fun of course.

Maul catches on soon enough, because then the wetness of a tongue slides it’s way up the center of your back to your earlobe, leaving a slick trail in it’s wake.

“Maul!” You cry out his name with a muffled laugh into the pillow, arching your back at the sensation, and jokingly squeal, “Gross!”

“Wake up then, my dear, my love— my light of lights.” Maul growls playfully, his nose pressed on your hairline, nuzzling and nipping at your ear. One of his horns grazes the side of your head, catching in your hair, and then the weirdest sensation of air pulling upwards causes you to tense. Maul then sighs, his breath warm on your skin, and then another suck of air, then an exhale, and it’s then you realize Maul is sniffing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask for clarification, shivering when Maul drags his nose deeper into your hair, nuzzles, and inhales deeply. The goosebumps on your skin spread, the feeling ticklish and odd, but not entirely unwelcome. Especially because Maul seems to be enjoying what he’s doing, hence his satisfied purrs and the slight grin you can practically see on his face.

“You smell nice.” Maul replies simply, dragging his nose the length of the column of your neck. He settles at the junction of your jaw, nuzzling in deeper, the small horn at his temple brushing against your earlobe. It pokes your skin, and you smile, but then you think about what he’s said, and your brow furrows.

“I probably smell like sleep and ‘in need of a shower’.” You speak through giggles, tilting your head best you can into the pillow to allow Maul better access to your neck. He hums in reply, nipping and sniffing at the skin under your jaw, his nose pressed along your pulsing jugular. By now, he’s near completely atop you, his hands plastered at your sides, holding himself above you. It takes some effort, but you manage to roll over on to your back, shuffling within the silk sheets.

“Mm... I disagree. You smell like you— Which is to say, like desire, heaven, and ambrosia.” Maul murmurs, lowering himself so that his muscular body is almost flush with yours, acting like a living weighted blanket. One of his arms slithers under your waist, tugging you up slightly as his hand plants firm on your side.

“Really now?” You sigh, eyes fluttering shut when Maul’s warm lips plant lazy, wet kisses on your neck, traveling down to your collar bones where he sucks a mark on the center of your chest. Maul can’t seem to get enough of you, his mouth and nose wild in their mission to mark and claim and scent every inch of skin he can reach. Minutes pass of just Maul sniffing you down, rubbing his scent on you, licking, biting, kissing. By the time he answers, your head is fuzzy with arousal, and you can barely open your eyes to stare all dewy-eyed up at him.

That wicked, wolfish grin on that crimson face of his greets you, as do Maul’s molten eyes. You watch his tongue lackadaisically glide over his lips, wetting them. Maul looks ravaged, wild-eyed and dizzying, practically drunk off your scent. Behind him, the light of the morning casts a glow around his head and makes his crown of horns look like a halo.

“You render me insatiable.” Maul growls, and then his head dips back to your body, nose to the skin above your heart where he smells you, and your heartbeat, and the blood that pulses in your veins and runs hot in your flesh. A gasp escapes you, arms drawing him in to the aura of you— all good, all pure, and outside the sun is beaming, and the breeze carries the essence of you and Maul to the heavens.

#star wars #star wars darth maul #darth maul #darth maul x reader #darth maul x you #star wars maul #maul #maul x reader

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georgiapeach30513 · 8 months

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I get it. I’m not saying I don’t. To me it’s either been anger here, or complete silence, and just waiting. I think that’s the hard part honestly. //

It's been such a weird 24 hours honestly. I was having a weird week last week anyways so the weekend just kinda tipped the scales. 🤷‍♀️ I feel like everyone is in a different place in processing this. Checking out, silence, anger, hurt, laughter. I hope everyone can protect their peace and find some fun and happiness.

Looking forward to more Steve and Dove and the rest of your characters! Love your writing and the space you've provided for everyone 🥰

It’s been so weird and bizarre, and I’m like, well…here we are. I think whatever people need to do to keep their peace is justified. I just want everyone to take care. Drink their water. Try something new this week. Wear a new lipstick. Listen to some new music. Watch an old movie you never have. Read a book. There’s plenty of things to do!

I am falling so hard for Steve and Dove. But who is falling more for each other? Steve falling for Dove…or…Dove falling for Steve 🤭

I want this to continue to be a fun safe space. I’ll continue writing my stories. Lord knows I have a ton that need to be finished. Kinktober is still currently on. There may be a surprise in there 🫣 you might have noticed him floating around on my blog recently. And not everything has to be his characters. Eventually I’ll finish up what I have written, and will slowly move to non fanfiction. Who knows, maybe write something that will have Sebastian starring in it 😏

I hope you are doing well, sweetheart 😘

#Jen.asks

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cyle · 9 months

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Hi, in regards to the public api, will 3rd party apps be affected in any way by upcoming changes ? The one I use - multitab Tumblr - is primarily for mass media browsing, so when I click on the "via" blog username attached to a post , it takes me straight to the blog, instead of the previous reblog.

This is obviously unrelated to what anyone is saying about viewing parent reblogs, since that's for conversations, reading previous tags and removed comments. My use case is just for the sake of finding blogs that act as human driven curated collections of media interconnected by this "via" feature. So empty reblogs are incredibly useful to me. But I'm worried they'll get pushed under the rug if this whole system gets redesigned and plastered across the public api.

To make it clear, the user being able to traverse the entire stretch of the via chain isn't important for this particular use case. Simply one via per post - the blog which this post was reblogged from, the blog directly before. So the entire via chain still needs to exist for any via to exist - but it doesn't need to be readily available to traverse by tapping the via. Essentially, if the via acts as it currently does in multitab Tumblr, and the android app I believe - ie tapping it takes me to the via blog of the post I'm viewing, as opposed to the via reblog of the post I'm viewing - that would be perfect.

Maybe I'm asking all this a little too early since I'm still not fully sure how this new post redesign will work. But multitab Tumblr seems to have adopted all the new post and reblog interface redesigns that the default Tumblr app has employed so far. Reblogs are no longer displayed as stacked and indented username lists with lines like they used to be in the old school tumblr textpost screenshots that float around the internet. So the posts have already had a redesign from their original design. and I'm not sure if this new design will be steamrolled over the current one over there too, through API changes. I'm not sure if the multitab Tumblr developers chose to change it, or if they had no choice because the api changed.

Closing thoughts: if Tumblr does end up looking and acting like twitter, that's fine because I like twitter and its many clones, I think it's kinda nicely coded and I like the modularity of posts and threads and how everything links together to facilitate conversation. And it's intuitive, which is why it's popular. However, Tumblr is and always has been the best site for human driven content curation in my opinion, because of the via blog being easily accessible in every post that is a reblog. So by all means , make it flashy and modern and twitter-like, but please don't remove the via blog, at least keep it in the public api.

Tumblr has a media focus, an archive view, pagination by date and post count through the API.... All these things which separate it from twitter in that its focus isn't entirely on conversations, but also media and curation and mass browsing. Essentially Tumblr = twitter + are.na + magic (the via). Please keep it that way. It's such a sweetspot between all these things. And this new post redesign could make it even better if only the via stays.

I suppose it's a niche ask? But a lot of people I'm sure find new blogs they like through clicking on the via instead of the source. I really think it makes tumblr what it is for people. Some blogs are so interconnected and I can see that they've clearly used the via to find a new blog to reblog from, again and again. It just makes everything so interconnected. Thank you times a million. I hope everything is as clear as possible hence the lengthy ask.

hey, yeah, there are no planned changes with the public API. if anything, myself and others on staff are continuously campaigning to open it up more and more, it's just difficult to prioritize that among the many things we have to do. i agree with basically everything you've said here!

"Tumblr = twitter + are.na + magic" is a fun way to put it.

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trenchcoatsbi · 5 days

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hi uhm announcement phil here! In my rush to get shit done I kinda forgot to announce that Tommy is going on a permanent(?)* hiatus the blog. Goodbye Big Man! o7!

In other news, I didn't get the chance to run this past Mod Boo, since she isn't active on discord at the moment, but I may go delete old request from the inbox and do a little restart for everything for this "new year" of the blog...

At the moment, all I know is that I desperately need to redo the anon list, because my notes for it are such an headache... I may just cut it down to frequent anons rather than every anon that ever sent a message, but I think I'll keep trying to write every anon down somehow... I dunno it will probably take a lot of tinkering for me to find something for this that is doable.

But uhm well I don't know how things will go just yet. Boo is still a Mod here and thusly I would like to consult her on anything I may do, but I do think changes are coming to the blog... I recall us floating around the ideas of doing like ask games and stuff a while back and I think maybe I'll play around with bringing that back!

Honestly if you have suggestions for things you may want from here I'd be glad to hear them out. Might as well do that while I have change on the mind yknow?

Hope you guys are doing well. Also sorry if I only appear sporadically, I'm between a lot of things right now. -Phil

*- Note: I say "permanent(?)" because I will not be removing his access from the blog. I'm gonna leave that door open for him to do whatever he wants with it. He's a founder yknow so uh yeah. I'm always gonna welcome him back to be a mod if he ever wants to be one again in the future.

#phil posts #important

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abybweisse · 1 year

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Hello! How are you doing?

As you have problably noticed with the barrage of likes, I have been reading your content and I came across a reply to one of your answers where you stated you believed that Undie killed himself with fire which I never heard before (I do know of the theory that he drowned himself)... I was wondering if you still think this (as I recall this was an older post) and what made you think it? I am so sorry if you already explained this, I'm trying to read all your wonderful, informative posts but I couldn't wait to ask (I assume it will take me a while to read them all and I love interacting with you 😅)

Also, how do we interact with Undie on here? Do we just ask him a question? Is there any rules/etiquette to follow? (I really mean it when I say I love your blog and want to interact more)

Thank you as always and have a great day/night

If my inbox is open, anyone can send Undertaker or Othello an rp prompt. The rules, as such, are pretty basic. Honestly, I'm not sure what my rules are. Maybe... nothing too graphic? Nothing too NSFW.

Death by fire?

There are some posts about this because others have asked about the suicide by fire idea. I still have a theory that he might have killed himself with fire. Either he set himself on fire out of protest, or perhaps he ran into a burning building to die with a loved one he couldn't save.

The main pieces of "evidence" I have for it are:

He keeps those biscuits in a cremation urn, despite the fact that cremation was not a common practice in Victorian England. The most common thing to do was save as much money as possible during your life to afford a full funeral and burial service. Open casket was preferred (if the remains were intact enough). People even got insurance policies for their funerals back then; that's pretty much how insurance first became a common practice. The burning death theory suggests he keeps the urn as a reminder of some kind; if the reaper rebirth theory also turns out to be true, that urn might even contain some of his original remains. 🤯

He not only cries over Vincent's death but comments how particularly bad it is to be burned to ashes. Sure, that meant Undertaker couldn't turn Vincent into a Bizarre Doll, but there might be more to it... some aspect of the burning that's more personal to Undertaker. Vincent actually died before he was set on fire, but idk if Undertaker knows this. He might know what it's like to die by fire and assumes his son Vincent experienced it, too.

When reapers show up, they tend to do things that give possible clues about their suicide methods. Like...

William first appears on top of a tall building and jumps down. I theorize that he suicided by jumping.

Grelle has been shown doing a "dead man's float" and has been compared to Ophelia (at least in the anime) and the original Little Mermaid (who jumps off a boat to die). So, I think Grelle died by drowning.

Ronald also has to be fished out of the sea by William, but the thing that really got my attention was the knife he carries and the wristwatch he shows off during the Campania arc. I suspect Ronald slashed his wrists, perhaps in a bathtub. That's a really old trope. Sometimes this is called a "Roman Bath", and it reminds me of Grelle trying to get William to go to the baths in Baden-Baden. It's at a bath house in Bath where Blavat bleeds those renal patients dry, too, come to think of it. And Grelle is the one who's actually collecting their souls. 🤔 However, I see Grelle as more of the "go jump from the cliffs or off a boat into the sea" kind of person. Maybe even the "weigh yourself down and walk right out to sea" kind of person. But Ronald? He's more likely the kind to try and slash his arteries because he thinks it'll be fast and easy... and finds out the hard way it's neither of those things.

Even Sascha, who we know hanged themself, seems to go everywhere with that camera (with the strap hanging around their neck). And when Ludger is talking to Sascha, just to see that Sascha had moved away from him, Sascha was sitting on a high-up tree branch... the sort of place one might hang themself from.

Not only does Undertaker keep that urn around and cry about Vincent burning to ashes, but we've also seen Undertaker walk right into a burning building (to collect real Ciel's body). If reapers keep doing things that are reminiscent of their own suicides, then this would be a strong indication about the method he used.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #undertaker #tw: sui mention #tw: suicide mention #reapers #grim reapers #reaper rebirth #reaper rebirth theory #methods #cafeguaba blog #asks #i answer #answered asks #jan 13 2023

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