#Epic Air Training

[ulkaralakbarova]

Based on the famous book by Jules Verne the movie follows Phileas Fogg on his journey around the world. Which has to be completed within 80 days, a very short period for those days. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Phileas Fogg: David Niven Passepartout: Cantinflas Whist Partner: Finlay Currie Ralph: Robert Morley Monsieur Gasse: Charles Boyer Mr. Fix: Robert Newton Achmed Abdullah: Gilbert Roland Saloon Hostess: Marlene Dietrich Saloon Pianist: Frank Sinatra Train Conductor: Buster Keaton Proctor Stamp: John Carradine Steward: Peter Lorre Saloon Bouncer: George Raft Colonel: Tim McCoy Stationmaster: Joe E. Brown Princess Aouda: Shirley MacLaine Mr. Talley: Melville Cooper Police Chief: Reginald Denny Railway Official: Ronald Colman Denis Fallentin: Trevor Howard Hinshaw: Harcourt Williams Tourist: Martine Carol Francis Cromarty: Cedric Hardwicke Roland Hesketh-Baggott: Noël Coward Foster: John Gielgud French Coachman: Fernandel Paris Tart: Evelyn Keyes Flamenco Dancer: José Greco Abdullah’s Henchman: Cesar Romero British Consul: Alan Mowbray Steamship Company Clerk: Charles Coburn Drunk in Barbary Coast Saloon: Red Skelton SS Henrietta First Mate: Andy Devine SS Henrietta Engineer: Edmund Lowe SS Henrietta Helmsman: Victor McLaglen London Carriage Driver: John Mills Sporting Lady’s Companion: Glynis Johns Sporting Lady: Hermione Gingold Prologue Narrator: Edward R. Murrow Drunk in Hong Kong Dive: Mike Mazurki Reform Club Member: Ronald Squire Reform Club Member: Basil Sydney Bullfighter: Luis Miguel Dominguín Elephant Driver-Guide: Robert Cabal SS Henrietta Captain: Jack Oakie London Revivalist Group Leader: Beatrice Lillie Club Member: A.E. Matthews Club Member: Walter Fitzgerald Club Steward: Ronald Adam Clergyman: Frank Royde Extra (uncredited): Abdullah Abbas Extra (uncredited): Jesse Adams Extra (uncredited): Fred Aldrich Extra (uncredited): Ray Armstrong Extra (uncredited): Gertrude Astor Extra (uncredited): Walter Bacon Extra (uncredited): Rama Bai Extra (uncredited): Leah Baird Extra (uncredited): Brandon Beach Extra (uncredited): Eugene Beday Extra (uncredited): Helena Benda Extra (uncredited): Audrey Betz Extra (uncredited): George Blagoi Extra (uncredited): Eumenio Blanco Extra (uncredited): Nina Borget Extra (uncredited): Danny Borzage Extra (uncredited): Hazel Boyne Extra (uncredited): George Bruggeman Extra (uncredited): Bob Burrows Extra (uncredited): Paul Busch Extra (uncredited): Gordon Carveth Extra (uncredited): Spencer Chan Extra (uncredited): Jack Chefe Extra (uncredited): Sing Chen Extra (uncredited): Dick Cherney Extra (uncredited): Bud Cokes Extra (uncredited): Louise Colombet Extra (uncredited): Bill Couch Extra (uncredited): Paul Cristo Extra (uncredited): Roy Damron Extra (uncredited): Eddie Das Extra (uncredited): John Davidson Extra (uncredited): Jack Davies Extra (uncredited): Jack Davis Extra (uncredited): Anna De Linsky Extra (uncredited): Gloria Dea Extra (uncredited): John Deauville Extra (uncredited): Harry Denny Extra (uncredited): James Dime Extra (uncredited): Joe Dougherty Extra (uncredited): Dan Dowling Extra (uncredited): Harry Duff Extra (uncredited): Arthur Dulac Extra (uncredited): Charles Dunbar Extra (uncredited): Renald Dupont Extra (uncredited): Larry Duran Extra (uncredited): Minta Durfee Extra (uncredited): Jack Ellis Extra (uncredited): Richard Elmore Extra (uncredited): Frank Erickson Extra (uncredited): Bob Evans Extra (uncredited): Harry Evans Extra (uncredited): Franklyn Farnum Extra (uncredited): Art Felix Extra (uncredited): Grace Field Extra (uncredited): Sam Finn Extra (uncredited): Bess Flowers (uncredited): Frances Fong Extra (uncredited): Otto Forrest Extra (uncredited): Helen Foster Extra (uncredited): Jesús Franco Extra (uncredited): Ben Frommer Extra (uncredited): Curt Furburg Extra (uncredited): Joe Garcio Extra (uncredited): Joe Gilbert Extra (uncredited): Mary Gleason Extra (uncredited): June Glory Extra (uncredited): Albert Godderis Extra (uncredited): James Gonzalez Extra (uncredited): Carmelita González Extra (uncredited): Dick Gordon E...

[eglerieth]

Some of y’all are not appreciating Bilbo Baggins enough. I am here to remedy that. This guy has:

• somehow managed to establish himself as a respectable, staid hobbit by the time he was fifty, despite being both a grandson of Bullroarer Took and the Shire champion of pretty much every aiming-game known to hobbitkind

• had an in-depth debate on pleasantries with a random guy passing by in the street, who turned out to be GANDALF

• collapsed in front of his own fire shaking and muttering “struck by lightning” over and over again in response to hearing about dragons and danger

• mind you, this was after he screamed loud enough to startle a roomful of Dwarves

• signed up for a dangerous quest completely outside of his league out of spite

• when told to scout out a mysterious light, saw some trolls, and instead of reporting back with the information, decided to PICK THE TROLLS POCKET

• arrived in Rivendell for the first time and said it “smelled like elves”

• upon meeting a strange creature that visibly wanted to eat him, he decided to play a riddle game with him- and guessed pretty much every one, and made up his own riddles, afraid and alone, that not only were good and full of linguistic puns, but actually stumped the other guy- AND THEN CHEATED AND WON WITH A QUESTION

• showed mercy to said strange creature who wanted to kill him, and was now standing between him and freedom

• eavesdropped on the dwarves arguing over whether to try to save him, then popped up casually smack in the middle of them just as they were debating

• somehow managed to sleep like a log at the really really high eyrie full of wild predators

• found himself in a bad situation, said eff it, and turned around and antagonized and fought off an insane amount of man eating spiders, like enough of them that fifty was a small portion, by singing at them with incredibly complex and punny insulting songs composed on the spot, while simultaneously slaying them in multitudes despite having zero combat training. Seriously, we don’t discuss enough how epic the spider scene is.

• broke a company of dwarves out of the very secure prison of the Elvenking by inventing white water rafting with barrels

• charmed his way out of being eaten by a dragon

• stole the frickin Arkenstone from the guys who employed him, one of whom was a king

• took part in an epic battle, only to be knocked out in the first ten minutes and miss the entire thing

• was named elf-friend by the guy who’s prisoners he sprung

• wrote his own autobiography, complete with all the narrative recognition of his own heroics

• spent 60 years writing said autobiography

• taught his lower class neighbor’s kid how to read

• taught his nephew Elvish- not only Sindarin, but Quenya too

• spent decades telling his cousins his own story as fairy tales, complete with character impressions accurate enough that one of them was able to fool a servant of the Enemy with a second hand impression

• used the One Ring of Power to hide from his neighbors

• planned an elaborate feast with multiple social faux pas to mess with his neighbors, complete with a purposefully bewildering speech and culminating in him vanishing into thin air in front of everyone

• left his cousins and neighbors very unsubtle passive aggressive gifts in his will

• settled into Rivendell, randomly befriended the heir to the throne of like half of Middle Earth, and apparently spent his time writing very personal poems about his hosts and reciting them to crowds of elves

• after being invited to a Council of basically every major kingdom in the continent, spent a quarter of the time reciting vague poems about his friends, a quarter of the time telling anyone who would listen about his heroic past, and half the time interrupting to ask when lunch would be

• volunteered to bring the ring to Mordor

• became one of only four or five mortals in history to live in Valinor

Seriously, Bilbo Baggins may well be the most chaotic, insane person in the entire legendarium, and that includes the likes of people like Finrod “bit a werewolf to death to save the life of guy who he just met and gave up his kingdom for” Felagund.

[giuseppe-yuki]

Since franco is quite unhinged and not PR trained, I feel like his girlfriend would be equally as unhinged and unpredictable like an orange cat constantly doing stupid things like climbing on stupid things and doing funny stuff around the paddock and becoming a fan favourite duo of unpredictable and hilarious behaviour - especially in the fan zone

FRANCO’S POOR PR MANAGER!!!!!

picture credits from pinterest :)

franco colapinto x orange cat shapeshifter!reader

“franco,” the disheveled looking woman snaps, a look of pure annoyance on her face. “tell your fucking cat to get down from those spare tires right now!

rolling his eyes, franco stops his laughter from looking at you prancing on tires and beckons you over.

leaping off the tower of rubber tires, you scamper over to his side, butting your head playfully against his leg. you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t have a little fun in the paddock though. it was media day, and those were soooo boring. his pr manager was a total killjoy. and besides, the fans loved you, so wouldn’t that be good for your boyfriend’s public image?

as if proving your point, the fans gathered around the fanzone squeal as you pad next to franco and his disgruntled pr manager.

while he stops momentarily to sign a few pieces of merch, you claw your way up his shoulder. the man getting his merch signed laughs, pointing his camera at your purring figure perched on franco.

“yeah, sorry, she does that sometimes,” you boyfriend remarks, recapping the pen and handing it back to the fan.

you grin at him, flashing your sharp cat canines at the camera. suddenly, an epic thought crosses your mind. what if you did a backflip off of franco’s shoulder and landed on the ground perfectly? that would be kind of cool.

gathering your wits, you leap off of your boyfriend and do two flips in the air before landing gently on your four paws. the fans in the fanzone erupt into cheers.

“ha!” your boyfriend laughs, pointing at you proudly leaping in circles on the ground. “simone biles who? make way for next big olympic gymnast!”

seeing the commotion, franco’s pr manager speeds over. “franco!” she hisses, dragging him away from the crowd. “you can not be saying that! we don’t want a bad public image from you slandering simone biles!”

“slandering???” franco says, in shock. “i was not slandering. i was merely making a comparison between her and my extraordinarily talented cat!”

you meow loudly, as if backing him up.

franco’s pr manager just pinches her nose and groans.

it’s not even ten minutes before you accidentally get yourself into trouble again.

a young fan sits on the sidewalk, talking animatedly to his mother, leaving his lunch open and inviting. hey, if he didn't want it, you’d gladly take it. you were pretty much starving after spending a good part of the day doing media duties with franco.

charging towards the open container, you take a huge bite of the contents, which turns out to be lasagna.

the boy turns around, eyes wide at seeing not only the orange cat eating his food, but also at franco colapinto jogging towards him.

“i-i-is this your cat?” he stutters out, blinking quickly at the sight in front of him, disbelieving.

“er, yes,” franco responds. scooting by the kid, he bends down and grabs you by the scruff of your neck, trying his best to separate you from the container of lasagna that you were trying your best to shove into your mouth at an ungodly speed.

the boy, seeing your actions, laughs. “she’s just like garfield!”

your boyfriend only successfully removes you from the container after you’ve devoured the entire piece of lasagna. “sorry buddy,” he says to the kid sheepishly, with your tomato-sauce covered body dangling from one hand. “i’ll give you a piece of merch to make up for the lasagna.”

still manhandling you with one hand, he uncaps a sharpie with his teeth and scribbles his signature on his own williams-branded jacket. he shrugs it off with a bit of difficulty before dumping it in the kid’s arms. the small fan ecstatically beams at franco, and thanks him profusely.

when your boyfriend squeezes by the crowd of people that were gathered to see the scene play out, he finds his pr manager standing with her arms crossed with a rather disappointed look on her face.

“did you even think before doing whatever that was?” she questions franco, simultaneously glaring at you.

when you give her a hiss of annoyance at reprimanding your boyfriend, she just about snaps.

“yeah, you’re done,” she say irritatedly. “franco, take yourself and your cat back into your driver’s room. you're grounded. both of you are prohibited from coming out for the next hour.”

you giggle inside. that’s a win for you, honestly. an hour with just yourself and franco? sounds like a great time to get into a little more mischief!

[wandasaura]

— A PROMISE

summary — when you wake up alone, the only place you want to land is in the arms of your lovers

warning(s) — alludes to ageplay elements, soft girlfriends wandanat, russian accent natty bc i’m soft for her, just pure domestic fluff, little dove universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Some of the best things that had happened to you, had happened by mistake. You were never supposed to be in Manhattan the night an alien ship crash landed on Earth and wreaked havoc on that small strip for almost two hours, but you’d taken the wrong subway and wandered around aimlessly until you found a cafe you recognized. Unfortunately for you, that mistake put you right in the center of alien warfare. Fortunately for you, it also put you right into the arms of a redheaded Avengers with a haunted past.

Things hadn’t been the same after that. It was almost like whatever you did, wherever you went, fate decided to step in and put you right in her path. If you were at a local market, so was she. If you were stranded on a subway platform after missing your train, so was she. You knew she had a girlfriend, everyone knew of Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff's epic love story, but somehow you weren’t surprised when she asked you out for coffee after three weeks of spontaneous meetings. In such a big city, it was almost cliche to deny the possibility of something more being just at your fingertips when you kept meeting.

That coffee date turned out to be the best mistake of your life. And, six months later, you found yourself in the center of an epic love story that you somehow had the honor of calling your own. It wasn’t traditional by any means, and it wasn’t always perfect, but it was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you reminded yourself of that every single day. Though it wasn’t like you could forget it even if you tried.

Waking up alone was an unusual way to start your day ever since moving in with Wanda and Natasha. Your girlfriends were early risers, they often jostled you awake as they tried to slip out of bed, but on the days when they didn’t, you always woke up to at least one of them cuddling close to your warm body, trying to catch a few more hours of peace after a workout. Today was different, and something inside of you felt different as well. Without them next to you, it felt like something was missing from your heart, and you wanted to burst into tears just because Wanda’s side of the bed was cold to the touch and her blanket was rustled and messy.

Sniffling, you throw your legs over the side of the bed, shivering when the cold floor shot sparks up through your bones. Your pajamas were only thin, the intense heatwave that had settled overtop of New York City keeping you from your traditional fuzzy pants and stolen hoodie, but it seemed to be cooler today, the air in the room not so thick with heat like it had been. That small victory still didn’t quell your sadness however, as you sought after your girlfriends, desperate to feel the warmth of their love in any capacity they’d allow.

Their accented voices carry from somewhere down the hallway, and the closer you came to finding them, the easier it became to recognize the sweet aroma of your favorite homemade breakfast being cooked in the kitchen. The thought of Wanda’s famous waffles brought a smile to your tired lips, easing away some of your distress.

No matter how quiet your footsteps were as you padded down the hall and around the corners that jumped out at you no thanks to your sleepy eyes, you never quite managed to sneak up on either of your doting girlfriends. When one was a former assassin and the other was a witch with telepathic abilities, surprises were almost impossible to pull off without help from the other, so it was no surprise that before you could even step foot into the kitchen fully, Natasha was spinning around to greet you with a soft smile and warm eyes.

That impossibly heavy feeling in your belly amplified tenfold seeing her soft body just out of reach and pressed up against the counter casually, like she was unaware of the domestic dominance she radiated by just being in the room. The sadness in your eyes wasn’t lost on her as she drank in the sight of you so sleepy and innocent in only Wanda’s stolen sleepware, and that charming smile on her lips slowly sank into a pout. “What’s wrong, baby?” The slightest lisp of Russian coated her words as they filled the kitchen, warm and heavy on your skin as they sank into your bones and made your muscles weak. Her accent only ever came out in moments like this, when it was just you and Wanda around to hear — where she knew it was safe to let her guard down — and selfishly you adored it. You adored knowing that she showed you every part of herself.

The fog in your mind was laeden, and subsequently made your words feel impossible to find despite your efforts, the only thought that was clear to you in that moment was getting to her, and finally being in her arms. Ignoring her question, you let your feet lead the way to her awaiting body, sinking into her chest once you were close enough to reach it. Her muscular arms wrapped around your midsection tightly, one calloused palm cradling the back of your head as you dug your face into the darkest spot of her neck.

Natasha looked down at you fleetingly, soaking up the delicacy of your touch, before glancing over at Wanda for any enlightenment she could offer. The younger redhead had noticed your odd disposition the moment you stepped into the room, your typically boisterous and infectious energy worryingly depleted and rubbing at her magic in a way she couldn’t ignore. She hated prying into your emotions, hated how gross it made her feel inside knowing she didn’t have permission to be snooping around in your thoughts, but some things couldn’t be helped when your energy was so violently projecting feelings of distress, and it didn’t seem like you’d be giving her or Natasha any verbal indication of a problem anytime soon.

The deepest shade of scarlet overtook her eyes as she let herself be immersed into your inner monologue, head tilting as she searched through your scrambled brain. She couldn’t help herself from cooing when she found the root of the problem, immediately drawing herself out once she felt content to go from what she now knew. That high pitch sound caught your attention, and desperately you peeked out from Natasha’s neck, looking at her with the most spaced out doe eyes she’d ever seen.

Dropping the dish towel she’d been using to wipe her hands with, Wanda joined you at Natasha’s front, laying a heavy hand on the center of your back, letting you feel her warmth through the thin shirt you had on, while her other brushed strands of hair out of your eyes. “You just missed us, huh, dove? Woke up all alone.” She cooed softly, leaning in just close enough to lay a featherlight kiss on your hairline, pulling away all too soon for your liking, your high pitched whine an automatic response that she immediately shushed. You’d never felt like this before, never felt so dependent on their attention and affection, but you didn’t hate the warmth that spread through your entire body from just seeing them smile at you. It felt so simple but so deeply healing.

Wanda didn’t have much insight to where your head was at, but she wasn’t completely oblivious either, unlike Natasha who looked entirely unsure of how to proceed with you so pliable in her arms. The scarlet headed woman laughed softly at your girlfriends expense, unbothered by your sudden dependability, drawing patterns on your back with light touches of her fingertips to quell your rising dismay for her not giving you another kiss. “You’re so sweet, golub’. Looking at me with those pretty big eyes. Why don’t you and Talia find a good place to enjoy our breakfast while I finish up. I’m making your favorite.”

Wanda met Natasha’s gaze, eyes flashing scarlet as she opened the line for mental communication. They hardly ever spoke this way in front of you, the entire structure of your relationship built on trust and open communication, but Wanda knew this was sensitive for both of you, and she in your current state, she didn’t want to run the risk of upsetting or embarrassing you. She wasn’t even sure you were entirely aware of what was going on. When you realized they were talking without you, a dissatisfied whine came from high in your throat, needy hands pulling at the neckline of Natasha’s shirt to capture her attention for yourself.

Wanda didn’t hesitate to put an end to your pleading, an amused laugh coming from her chest as she kept her eyes on Natasha’s, only offering you a gentle pat on the back. Natasha closed her palm around your fist, keeping her skin heavy on yours as she absorbed all that Wanda was telling her. “Oh, I know you want all the attention on you. Poor baby.” Wanda laughed once she closed the communication line, casting her eyes downward until she met the sweet pout on your cherry red lips.

Kissing your frown away tenderly, she quickly sent you and Natasha on your way out of the kitchen, not wanting you anywhere near open flames and hot burners when your mind was so hazy. Something had changed within your dynamic that day, you just hadn’t realized it yet, but your girls would get you through it. That was a promise.

[achaoticeternal]

electric touch

aemond targaryen x niece!reader

summary: while taking a visit to the royal library, you come across aemond who seems to have a small gift for you. word count: 1.1k warnings: afab!reader, targcest, reader is mentioned to have violet eyes but that is the only descriptor. a/n: this was just a little drabble I thought of. i'm trying to get back into the grove of writing after my summer hiatus.

Though King’s Landing was quite an enticing place to visit, the climate at Dragonstone seemed to accommodate her taste better. Where Dragonstone held warm air and cooling sea breezes, King’s Landing lacked such a luxury. Whenever Rhaenyra made visits to the capitol with her daughter, neither princess slept well for their own reasons. Both, however, missed their own beds and comforts of home.

Currently, the younger Targaryen princess was making her way down the aisles of the library. Particularly, she found herself in the special collection that her uncle had curated. Books that varied from philosophy, the history of Old Valyria, and even strategies of ancient wars. However, sprinkled in between were books that contained the sweetest words held in between pages. Yes, both she and Aemond held a secret bond over the lines of fine poetry.

It was a love they learned as children. Whenever Aemond was not training or being tormented by his brother and nephews, he would accompany his niece at the weirwood tree. Helaena would not be too far off either, allowing the creatures in the gardens to climb into her gentle hands.

Such a memory caused a small smile to grace her lips as she reached for a book that had been well-loved.

“Have you come to wreck my shelves?” The voice interrupted her abruptly.

She jumped away from her spot, the breath returning to her lungs when she recognized the man. Her hands went to smooth out her skirts, “Good day to you, uncle…”

The lady went to reach for the book again. Still, it remained just out of reach. The scoff sounding next to her changed her focus once more.

“Have you not considered using your words to ask for help, riñītsos?” He questioned.

Little Girl.

Sighing at his question, she moved back from the shelf. As she faced him, her eyes flicked from the book to his gaze. Though her actions were childish, she did not anticipate being denied her wish, “Kostilus…” Please.

His dismissive hum could be heard as he moved in front of her. With ease, he gripped the spine of the book before bringing it down. Aemond held onto it for a moment, eye scanning over the cover. Epics of Old Valyria.

“I see you’ve been working on your native tongue,” the prince stated nonchalantly, “Though it is still peculiar to me as to why you deem it fit to borrow from my personal collection?”

The corners of her lips dropped at his words, “And do you enjoy withholding the pleasure of knowledge?”

His violet eye slowly trailed up her height. Both of them had grown since they’d last shared each other’s company. This was evident to both parties. Her eye then met her own violet ones as a chuckle played on his lips, “Withholding pleasure is enjoyable for some people.”

Her posture straightened immediately, the innuendo not going unnoticed. She took the book from his grip, preparing to move past him and back to the security of her mother’s chambers.

The princess did not make it more than two paces before his hand shot out to grasp at her forearm. His touch was not harsh, yet there was no warm to it either, “What are you forgetting?”

She breathed out in audible frustration. Her eyes still trained toward the exit of the library, keeping her distracted from his intense gaze, “Are you not supposed to be in attendance of the small council meeting? Or has your seat been taken?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened at the taunt. However, his demeanor remained relatively calm.

Finally, she answered him properly, “Kirimvose.” Thank you.

After a pause of silence, she craned her neck to look up at Aemond. Her gaze was met with a playful smirk, “Issa daorun” You’re welcome.

However, his hold did not retreat from her forearm. Instead, he continued, “I have a little gift for you. Consider it a welcoming present for my favorite niece.”

“Careful, uncle,” Her eyes refocused on his face. The rest of the library remained at a soft focus, “You wouldn’t want to hurt poor Jaehaera’s feelings.”

His upper tip seemed to curl into a snarl at the quick-witted comment. Releasing his hold, his hands went to the pockets of his doublet, eyeing the item within it. Pulling out the piece, a finely forged Valyrian steel chain dangled from his nimble fingers. Resting at the bottom of the chain was a pendant of a singular dragon with a sapphire for an eye. The craftsmanship itself must have cost a fortune, not to mention the installation of such a fine gemstone.

“Kepus,” Her voice lulled, “Gevie…”

Without a word, Aemond moved to stand behind her. His gentle touch caressed her upper back as he moved her hair onto one shoulder. The cool pendant rested atop her bosom, sending tingles throughout her chest. The chain itself snaked around the delicate skin of her neck where he now clasped it together, “Dōna zaldrītsos,” Aemond purred.

As she turned back to face him, her lithe fingers toyed at the pendant. She quickly grew accustomed to the weight of it and the metallic feel against her skin, “Where did you find such a necklace?”

The look on his face was passive as if he could not drop his uncaring disguise, “I had it made for you.”

As her browed raised in motion for him to continue, Aemond added on, “I figured it would be to your liking.”

She took a moment, eyes flickering from the leather he wore to the steel chain at her neck.

“I see,” She nodded, “And what moved you to commission such a fine piece?”

Unbeknownst to the lady, Aemond fought an inner battle. He wished to step closer to her and reach out once more. He hated that he could easily despise his nephews, but never her… Not the girl whom he read poetry with between lunch and tea time. The girl who was now a woman grown before him. His greatest torment and object of his deepest affections.

Aemond faced her once more, bringing up his hand to toy with the pendant at her chest now, “The thought of you wearing it for me…”

---

all feedback is greatly appreciated. my ask box is open for requests.

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hi! Recently I became curious about how ancient people hunted in the world of TwistedWonderland.🧔🏹🦣

If they didn't have magic in Monster Au, they used their wits and ingenuity. Animal hunting and fishing🦣 🏹 🐟. Pits, a stone maze so for catching fish and cattle.

You can see the reaction to the methods and techniques of trapping characters.

Don't mind me trying to work my way into a good groove and answering asks in my inbox 😅

It’s simply amazing what human ingenuity can do to get a task done, especially when it comes to surviving out in nature! Throw these craft humans into a world of monsters and magic, and you pretty much have what most epics and legends in our world describe mythical creatures and feats of strength. 😆

Once Yuu arrives in Twisted Monsterland, they may start seeing old paintings depicting clashes between humans and monsters. Ranging from spears and swords mistakenly melding into flesh like malformed limbs and claws to wearing leather and gleaming silver armor mistaken as insectoid carapaces, it’s no wonder humans were used in stories to scare little children into being good. These ancient humans looked positively monstrous—perhaps even more so than any monster in existence. Perhaps that is why so many were both terrified and confused as to why this scrunkly of a creature calling itself a human didn’t even match the few surviving paintings from a bygone era.

Pair that with the stories told on how ancient humans would hunt for food or built traps to capture monsters and comparing that to how Yuu looks? It’s easy for the monsters to brush off these abilities of magicless humans as being anything more than just mere fantasy or exaggeration. There’s simply no way a human can build traps and webs like spider monsters, create fire that lasts for days without smoke, or chase their prey for days on end without breaking a sweat!

Turns out, those myths are more true than the monsters realize. Especially if their resident human just so happens to have survivalist training under their belt…

///Camp Vargas///

“Uh…why are you digging a hole in the ground?”

“Making a fire pit.”

Ace glanced at Yuu as they continued to shovel more dirt out of a relatively large hole. “So…if you’re building a pit, then why did you make a smaller hole right here?” he asked, pointing at said opening in the dirt. “And if you’re building a fire, why aren’t you making one above ground? Are you trying to bury it or something?”

The shovel broke the last of the dirt wall between the holes before Yuu straightened up, gathering several long branches they’d collected with several large cuts of logs and starting to set them up at an angle. “Oh, I’m still building one above ground. I’m just making two different ones.” Pointing at the hole they’d just dug out, they said, “We call this one a ‘Dakota Fire Hole’. Typically this one is used for outdoor cooking, since it produces little smoke and doesn’t need a lot of fuel.” Setting some sticks and tinder inside the larger of the two holes, the took a piece of flint and began striking it with a stone. Soon a small yet hot fire was blazing inside the hole, just barely licking the air outside of the hole before settling down into a steady flicker. “The second hole generates airflow, which keeps the fire fueled with oxygen so it’ll burn longer.”

“Then what’s the other one for?”

“A self-feeding campfire.” They began loading chopped logs on both sides of the now V-shaped structure they’d built. “It uses gravity to drop new logs to keep the fire going, which means it’ll last all night. Pretty handy so you don’t have to keep getting up to replenish the log pile!”

One ear lowering in confusion, Ace stared at Yuu as they struck up another inferno on the bottom log. Somehow the fire didn’t crawl or spread to the rest of the logs. “…how exactly did you learn this?” he finally asked.

“Survivalist training. Why do you ask?”

Snap! Twang! “Fynaaah!?” Fwoosh!

“Uh oh. Grim! I told you to stay away from there! That’s where I set up the snare trap.”

“Why did you set it up so close to the tent?!” the chimera yowled as students stared in shock and surprise.

“To keep away intruders.” A sudden cacophony of clattering and clanging rang out, followed by a startled mix of a canine yelp and deer-like squeal before a thud hit the ground. “Epel! Are you okay?!”

“What is this?!” the einfield snarled, twisting and trying to untangle himself from the string of empty cans and bells. “Git it offa me!”

“Hold still, or you’ll strangle your wings! Ace, could you get Grim down for me? The snare hook is on the ground behind the tree on the tent’s left side.”

As Yuu went to free Epel from the new contraption—which Ace heard them comment was their ‘alarm system’—he shook his head in confusion and disbelief. What was even happening? Did Yuu pick up some strange trick from one of the spider monster students when he wasn’t looking? “I’m not taking another step until you tell me what other traps you set up,” he finally called out, warily looking around for more strings and rope near his large rabbit feet. “I don’t want to get tangled up in anything like those two did!”

“Oh don’t worry, I didn’t have time to set up any other snares or alarms yet,” Yuu called out, carefully freeing Epel’s arm before working on freeing the rest of his body. “You’re safe, so long as you-”

Shoof! “WAH!?!” a familiar loud voice screamed, the sound echoing so far that it reverberated through the trees. WHUD!! “Urk…HUMAN!!! What foul trickery is this?!?”

“…oh, right. I forgot about the pit trap I dug earlier,” Yuu said as multiple eyes stared at them.

“Why in Twisted Wonderland would you need to build something like that?!” Riddle all but shouted once it sank in what just happened.

“Hey, if a bear comes rampaging around the camp because you guys aren’t putting your food away, don’t come crying to me if there’s no pit trap to keep it busy!”

Needless to say, after everyone was rescued, no one could fathom how Yuu learned such archaic—if frighteningly deceptive—trapping methods for a camping trip. It wasn’t until the last night of Camp Vargas that they understood why when the remaining students used the trap to buy themselves some time from the “beast” before running to the swamp.

/-------------/

Now of course the defensive traps were pretty impressive, Ruggie had to admit that much. But traps that catch fish with little to no effort? Even he was impressed by the speed at which Yuu was able to harvest so many fish in one sitting, and with a simple stick and twine “fence”? Let alone the basketful of fish they’d caught by hand after making a shady spot with a tarp propped over the water!

“Sure, I could use a fishing rod if I wanted,” Yuu commented as they continued whittling away at the tip of a sturdy branch. “A net would also come in handy, but since we’re going to be here for a short time, I wouldn’t be able to make a decent one to use it effectively.” Jabbing their carving knife over at the fire pits they had dug earlier, they added, “Besides, if I don’t adapt and use what I have available, then I can lose out on a good food source and my chances of survival are slim to none.”

“Huh. Yeah, that makes sense,” he agreed, the leucrocuta looking between his catch and Yuu’s. The human’s collection was quickly catching up to Floyd’s, which was surprising since he’d stopped earlier due to boredom. “This came from that survival training thing you mentioned earlier, right?”

“Mm-hm! I can teach you a few things I learned if you want.”

“Shehehehe~! Sounds great! Just one question though: what’cha making? Some kind of walking stick?”

“Oh, this? It’s going to be a spear.”

“…spear?” The word sounded vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t quite place why as he tried to examine it. It didn’t look like anything he’d seen any other monster use or make before. “What’s it for?”

“It’s used for different things, like defense or attacking.” Cutting a few more chips off, Yuu stood up and examined their work. They had whittled one end of the branch to the point it was needle-sharp, a sight that weirdly sent chills down his spine when he looked at it. “I made this one specifically to go spear fishing. Here, I’ll show you!”

As they walked into the water, he expected the human to immediately strike into the water like they had when they did the shadow fishing. However, they simply stood still, eyes locked onto the water’s surface with the spear raised over their shoulder. He watched in silence, instinctively knowing that Yuu was hunting for their prey yet not understanding how this would work. Suddenly, they tensed, their shoulders tightening as they raised their spear higher in a smooth motion. For the briefest moment, he swore he saw the human with the needle-sharp arm in his history book instead of Yuu, his heart leaping in his throat at the vivid imagery. Before he could react, the spear was sent flying forward-

Splosh!

And struck the riverbed, Yuu immediately rushing forward to grab the upright tool before pulling it out. To his shock and utter amazement, the spear had pierced the body of a large trout, still flopping even as Yuu carried it back to shore with a triumphant grin on their face. Their smile faded to one of concern as they asked, “You okay, Ruggie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Chuckling nervously, Ruggie uttered, “Uh…you could say that.” A ghost of the past maybe, he thought as he picked up the baskets. “Hey, uh, why don’t we go ahead and cook these? I think we’ve got enough!”

“Oh. Sure, sounds good. Oh! I know a few tricks to preserve the meat for later!”

“Great! Just…do me a favor and not point that spear thing at anyone, okay?”

////////

I’m pretty sure there’s a lot more that could be said or done, but you get the picture. XD Hope you all enjoy!

[eclec-tech]

Let's get into this "Tech is dead" thing...

Until someone from the show confirms that Tech is dead, I don't believe it. We've seen this before. Echo died in an explosion. Nope. Ahsoka fell when she dueled Vader. That didn't stick. Maul, Palpatine, Leia, Mace Windu...okay, that last one is still in the air. But my point is that we never saw a body. Face it. If they wanted Tech dead, they would have given him a shoulder wound. I lost track of how many times that proved fatal this season.

For starters, it would be a very bad move! Tech was probably the most loved character on the show even before they further developed his character this season. To remove him from the show would deprive a lot of people of someone who gives them a feeling of true representation in Star Wars.

Then there's Phee. That last "conversation" she tried to have with him was awkward and very specific. They animated him in such a way that he was obviously avoiding eye contact. He was uncomfortable. He didn't want to say goodbye. I don't think he knew how. It looked to me like they were setting us up for a reunion scene.

Now let's talk about Hemlock. Him being in possession of Tech's goggles is another reason I think he's alive. When he held out the goggles and said, "I'm afraid this is all I could salvage," it suggested to me that Hemlock has him. It doubly struck me since he had just used the term "fascinating" in the same spirit of scientific curiosity Tech had used earlier in the season with the Zillo Beast. The only way I can see Tech being alive but not captured in this scenario would be if there is a raging river or deep crevasse beneath the train and all they found nearby was the goggles. (Which means that, if he is alive, we will finally get that goggleless Tech we've been wanting to see so badly all this time.)

Let's not forget the most important thing of all. Tech is an incredibly capable soldier. He is resourceful, exceptionally well-trained, and was fully kitted-out when he fell. It's not hard for me to imagine him using a grappling hook and cable or other means to keep from falling to his death. He said it himself. He has the "ability to think clearly in stressful situations". And if Hemlock has him, he's going to need it.

All this gives me great hope for season three. If Hemlock does have Tech, he would have him transferred to Mt. Tantiss on Weyland. Now, Crosshair and Tech are together with other no-longer-Imperial clones. Omega is there with Nala Se, who wants Omega as far from there as possible. Nala Se is no longer in a cell, but working in a lab—under guard, but with access to equipment. Factor in Omega's clone sister and this has all the earmarks of an epic escape episode.

Fingers crossed.

[its-avalon-08]

Hey lovely, can i make a request for Daniel Ricciardo fic based on But daddy i love him by Taylor? You can have free reign on it, but just that line "me and my wild boy and all of his wild joy" is so Daniel and has been stuck in my head for ages. Something fluffy and funny, so whatever you want (maybe even a pregnancy reveal 👀👀) if you see fit i just love that song and it's so big ric coded.

Love your work!!! Thank you so much 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

but daddy i love him (dr3)

(please bear with me this one is extra long, ily all)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

the start of the most beautiful things in y/n's life were often masked by difficulties and plagued with the anxieties of life. but when danny was around, things just fell into place. time seemed to stop and the fast paced world began to still.

clutching their pearls, sighing "what a mess"

the air in your childhood home crackled with a tension thicker than the gravy simmering on the stove. you sat across from danny, his smile a little too wide, your dad's gaze narrowed like a hawk eyeing a squirrel.

"so, danny," your dad began, his voice gruff, "you're a… racing driver, is that right?"

"yes sir," danny chimed, a touch too enthusiastically. "formula one, actually! just signed with mclaren for next season."

your dad grunted, poking his mashed potatoes with a fork. "formula one, huh? sounds… dangerous."

"it can be," danny admitted, "but safety's paramount these days, you know?" he flashed a winning grin. "plus, the adrenaline rush? unbelievable."

your dad snorted. "adrenaline rush. sounds like you live life on the edge, son."

you shot your dad a warning glare. "dad, be nice."

he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "honey, I just want to make sure he's responsible. you deserve someone stable, someone who won't make you worry constantly."

"dad!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning. "he's not a reckless teenager, he's a professional athlete! and he takes care of himself."

screaming "but daddy i love him!"

danny, bless his heart, interjected, "exactly! I train like a champion, eat healthy, the whole nine yards. your daughter's in good hands, sir."

the tension remained, a thick fog in the air. dinner progressed in tense silence, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery. you stole glances at danny, his usual sunny disposition dampened. it broke your heart.

suddenly, your dad cleared his throat. "so, danny," he began, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "you said you race for mclaren? ever met lewis hamilton?"

you watched in surprise as danny's face lit up. "met him? I race alongside him! absolute legend, that man. we have some epic battles on the track."

for the next hour, the conversation flowed. your dad, a former racing enthusiast himself, peppered danny with questions about the sport, its history, the intricacies of car setup. danny, more than happy to oblige, regaled him with stories, technical details, even pulling out his phone to show pictures of him with lewis.

by the end of the night, your dad was chuckling at a particularly funny anecdote about a rogue pigeon causing a pit stop delay. he clapped danny on the back with a newfound warmth. "alright, alright, danny. you alright in my book. just take care of my daughter, you hear?"

danny, his grin back in full force, squeezed your hand. "wouldn't dream of it, sir. consider yourself one of my biggest fans from now on."

as you walked danny to his car later, a comfortable silence settled between you. "thanks for being patient with him," you whispered, leaning into his side.

i know he's crazy but he's the one i want

he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "your dad just wants the best for you, that's all. and seeing you happy… that's all I want too." he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "besides, I think I scored some serious brownie points tonight, wouldn't you say?"

you laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night. "maybe just enough to convince him that a formula one driver can be perfectly responsible... especially when he makes my daughter this happy."

time skip

the sun beat down on the golden sands of miami beach, the gentle waves lapping at the shore lulling you into a state of pure bliss. sprawled out on your beach towel, sunglasses perched on your nose, you were lost in a trashy romance novel, the sound of danny's playful laughter occasionally breaking through your concentration.

suddenly, a shadow fell over you. you peeked over your sunglasses to see danny, a mischievous glint in his eyes, standing over you. before you could even register what was happening, he swooped down, scooping you up in his arms like a prize.

now i'm dancing in my dress in the sun and

"hey!" you shrieked, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. the book tumbled into the sand, forgotten.

with a triumphant yell, danny sprinted towards the ocean. the cool water rushed at you as he plunged in, carrying you with him. you shrieked again, this time with delight, water splashing everywhere.

when danny finally set you down, the waves lapping at your waists, you couldn't help but grin at him. his hair was plastered to his forehead, and a carefree smile stretched across his face.

i'm his lady, and oh my god

"you're a menace, ricciardo!" you exclaimed, shaking your head playfully.

he just laughed, the sound echoing across the beach. then, in a flash, he was pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. you giggled as he dipped you backwards, the cool water washing over you both.

when he pulled you back up, his eyes held a playful fire. before you could say anything, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was warm, sweet, and tasted faintly of salt. you melted into him, the world around you fading away.

me and my wild boy and all of this wild joy

the kiss ended with a sigh, foreheads resting against each other. you looked into his eyes, their blue depths sparkling with love and adoration.

"you're crazy," you whispered, a smile blooming on your face.

"only for you," he replied, his voice husky. he brushed a stray strand of hair from your cheek, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your jaw.

you sighed contentedly, leaning into his touch. in that moment, with the sun warming your skin, the sound of the waves crashing in your ears, and danny by your side, everything felt perfect. you wouldn't trade this feeling for the world.

time skip

you fidgeted with the hotel room balcony railing, the bustling city of monaco blurring below. danny, oblivious, was humming along to the pre-race hype blaring from the tv. today was his big day, the monaco grand prix, and the nervous energy crackling in the air was almost tangible. you, however, were grappling with a different kind of jitters.

taking a deep breath, you approached him, the small velvet box clutched tightly in your hand. "danny," you began, voice barely above a whisper. he glanced up, a dazzling smile splitting his face.

"hey there, sunshine," he said, reaching out to pull you into a quick hug. "ready for the race?"

"actually," you mumbled, biting your lip, "there's something I need to tell you before you go."

he frowned playfully, his brow crinkling in mock seriousness. "is it that you secretly placed a giant shoey on toto wolff's yacht?"

you laughed, a little relieved at the lighter mood. "no, nothing like that. it's… well, it's important."

he set the tv remote down, his smile softening. "alright, come here," he patted the space next to him on the plush couch. you sat down, fiddling with the box in your lap. the words seemed to get stuck in your throat, a tangled mess of nerves.

"danny," you tried again, voice shaking slightly, "we might need to… postpone those post-race victory celebrations."

now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned

he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "losing faith in your honey badger already? don't worry, I've got this."

frustration bubbled up. "no, it's not that! it's… it's…" you squeezed the box so hard your knuckles turned white. "i'm pregnant, danny!"

the playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of utter confusion. "pre… what now?" he asked, brow furrowed.

panic clawed at you. was this the wrong approach? "pregnant! as in, a baby, danny! we're having a baby!" you blurted out, your voice bordering on a squeak.

i'm having his baby

the confusion on his face morphed into a look of dawning realization. his eyes widened, then welled up with tears. a choked sob escaped his lips. he whipped his head towards the balcony door and threw it open, a joyous yell erupting from his throat.

"we're having a baby!" he bellowed across the bustling streets of monte carlo, his voice thick with emotion.

i know he's crazy but he's the one i want

he turned back to you, a goofy grin splitting his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. before you could even react, he swept you into a tight embrace, the box tumbling onto the floor with a soft thud. he squeezed you like a lifeline, muttering incoherent words of joy into your hair.

his emotions were infectious. you clung to him, tears welling up in your own eyes. he pulled back, his hands cupping your face. he peppered your cheeks, forehead, your nose, with kisses, every kiss filled with a love so profound it took your breath away.

"this is… this is incredible, y/n," he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse. he pulled you close again, resting his forehead against yours. "we're having a baby. we're going to be parents."

he was chaos, he was revelry

the celebratory noises from outside were a distant hum, drowned out by the frantic thumping of your heart and the overwhelming sense of happiness washing over you. in that moment, in danny's arms, with the promise of a new life growing inside you, the world seemed to shimmer with possibility. you couldn't wait to start this incredible adventure together.

but oh my god you should see your faces

[prettynice8]

Kinkmas Day 12: Lingerie

Pairing: Eijiro Kirishima x male reader

This guy

Summary: So, you say some shit to Bakugo, and he WRECKS your uniform, making Kirishima kinked up

Warnings: Kissing, biting/markings, sex, lingerie DUH but in the form of a torn-up costume.

Word count: 1,356

You were practicing, which you don't often do. Fighting fellow children to get better at ruthlessly beating the shit out of other people in the future, not exactly your thing. Though today was different because you heard that it was a men's only practice, fucking score. None of those women ruining anything by being there, now you could admire your classmates without anyone intervening, and this practice went hard as fuck, tee hee.

Everyone was in their hero outfits to make it seem more real, and holy shit were you wet, watching people duke it out, everyone surrounding them, cheering them as their sweaty bodies clash into one and other.

The people fighting currently were Bakugo, who was possibly the most annoying kid in the grade, and Kirishima, who was one of the hotter men, especially in that shirtless costume, you would fuck both of them honestly.

When the fight was done, everyone went off to do their own training, except you, who just stood there, only being here to ogle at the hot men. You just kind of stayed in a corner uncomfortably, your skin tight costume not helping much.

You just stood there until finally Bakugo came over to you screaming.

"What the fuck are you doing just standing here idiot!" He shouted, coming really close to you, so much so you could feel his hot breath on your face. He had that angry look on his face.

"Fuck off, I'm not affecting your life at all, go thrust your dick in a hot pocket or whatever desperate people like you do." You flared back. You honestly weren't even that mad at what he said, you just really didn't like him, doesn't mean you wouldn't suck his dick until it turned into laffy taffy though.

He stared back at you, rage filling his face. He grabs you by the chest, surprisingly having a firm grip with how tight it is.

"LISTEN HERE MOTHER FUCKER, BITCHES LIKE YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! I WILL FUCK YOUR SHIT UP; I WILL EXPLODE THAT STUPID LOOK ON YOUR FACE WHORE!" He shouted at you once again, this time a lot more aggressive as you can tell with the all caps. You just stared at him, completely apathetic to his tantrum. It was also at this point that his little bitch drew attention to the two of you.

"You would like to fuck my shit up wouldn't you queer." You said, looking him dead in the eye. Every He looks PISSED, his grip previously on your costume is now caging you in, the smell of smoke originating from his hand is apparent in the air.

Kirishima notices this and actually worries that Bakugo might kill you and goes in between the two of you. Bakugo tries to reach over him but is unable to.

"FIGHT ME YOU PUSSY!" He shouted, now just spewing shit out of his mouth.

"Bakugo, calm down." Kirishima demanded gently in his sweet smile. "You're being over dr-"

"Sure," you cut Kirishima off.

Everyone stared at you, astonished, the queer that just sits there and looks pretty is actually going to fight Katsuki Bakugou, and that's exactly what you do.

It's an epic battle, truly one for the ages. Every hero in training there is astonished with how well you hold yourself, not faltering once. Such a duel that would rival the best in his- and you lost immediately.

Twinks can't fight as easily as that, which is your excuse when everyone asks you what kind of pathetic excuse of a fight was that, if it could even be called such.

Oh, and there's one other thing. Bakugo let off quite the explosive blast and uh, completely wrecked your costume, and I mean WRECKED. It is in tatters, holes and tears throughout the whole thing. You also don't have anything under it because of how fucking breath takingly tight it is... including underwear.

So here you are, standing practically naked in front of all of your classmates. Not a word from any of them, they're all too stunned to speak, except for that cocky bastard Bakugo.

"Fucking slut, I knew you couldn't fight for shit." He degraded, laughing his ass off.

"As if this wasn't your plan this entire time, trying to see me naked. That's really weird Bakugo, why would you do something like that? I would've done it if you just asked." You teased, causing his rage to boil back up to the surface. He walks towards you, ready to beat the shit out of you again, but Kirishima stands between the two of you once again as well.

He puts his hands in front of both you and Bakugo, separating the two of you. Kirishima tries to fight off Bakugo once again as he screams at you.

"FUCKING WHORE BITCH SLUT, SAY THAT TO ME ONE MORE TIME!"

"God you're thirsty for me." You said, not affected by any part of this whole ordeal. Kirishima continues to struggle with Bakugo, fending him off from attacking you. During his attempt, he accidently grips onto your exposed nipple tightly, causing both of you to blush, and pull away from each other. This leaves Bakugou with the perfect opportunity to charge after you, in which Kirishima catches him in the act, throwing him to the ground.

Kirishima then leads you out of the area so you can change, among other things. You just go along with it, rather be here than out where everyone can see you naked, you'd rather do it in a place that isn't so chilly.

You think he's just being a nice guy, until he leads you into the supply room. He locks the door behind the two of you, then kissing you deeply, in which you instantly reciprocate.

"I'm sorry, but you just looked so hot with that tattered uniform." He apologized.

"I usually have that effect on people." You bluntly said, he laughs at your remark before going back to kissing you. Sticking his tongue in your mouth, exploring it. He then entangles his tongue with yours.

He then lays kisses down your neck, stopping when he gets down to your nipples, sucking and nipping at them. His hands then go down to grab your exposed ass, causing a loud moan to exude from your mouth.

Then, to your surprise, he takes off his pants and reveals his girthy cock with a medium length, a big red bush at the base. He picks you up by your thighs, you react instantly by wrapping your legs around his hips as he sets your back to the wall.

"Are you ready?" He asked,

"Fuck me already." You responded, horny as all hell.

Fuck you he does, shoving his big dick in your ass. He starts off slowly, easing in so he doesn't hurt you. He kisses you, hoping for you to calm down so he can ease in better, which works quite well.

He starts to speed up, making you moan much louder. He then starts to lick open parts of your costume that lead straight to your skin. The feeling of his warm tongue causes you to moan somehow even louder.

He starts to exclusively lock on your perky nipples, using his shark teeth to nibble at them. The sensation of his teeth on your sensitive nips nearly enough to make you cum from that alone, but when you add his dick pounding into your ass makes your climax all the closer.

His hands have a bruising grip on your ass as he thrusts up into you continuously, chasing both of your climaxes, which is exactly what happens.

You cum all over his stomach, he follows in closely after a few more thrusts, shooting his thick load in your ass.

"Holy fuck that was amazing." He panted, head laying on your shoulder while he quickly gasped for breath. He then sets you on the ground, holding you steady so you don't fall over on the floor with your shaky legs.

"Let's do it again." You said, leaving the room, still wearing the torn uniform.

THE END

[anghraine]

ngl I always find it wild to see Star Wars stuff that's like "if you think about it in terms of realistic statistics/science then..." about almost any aspect of it.

I mean, what about the Star Wars films gives the impression that this universe abides by realistic statistics, or realistic anything else? SW is broadly a fantasy epic projected onto an IMAX screen with a space background painted on it. Yeah, the planets and moons in the films almost always have improbably limited biomes and two major locations max, because narratively these locations are usually just fantasy city-states with space aesthetics.

Starships travel at the speed of plot and we simply jump past the amount of time that presumably is passing, and sort of imply the passage of that time through shifts in the character dynamics. But this passage of time cannot be analyzed with any kind of consistency because the only logic governing it is the pace of the story.

Just how long did it take the Empire to send a full contingent of forces to Dantooine, search the entire planet, find the Rebel base, and then report back to Tarkin between one scene and another? No one says and no one appears to care. How long did it take Han and Leia to reach Bespin and what exactly went on between them while Luke was, in the same time frame, going through a protracted training over multiple days at an absolute minimum? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

How do giant space worms survive inside asteroids that somehow have an Earth-approximate gravitational field and I guess an atmosphere? Shhhh don't think about it. The point of the sequence is not "how does the giant space worm subsist off this random asteroid and how does it breathe and how does gravity work in this context, seriously" but that the giant worm sequence is fucking sick.

There's probably some after the fact EU justification invented by people who had nothing to do with the original writing of the space worm (or perhaps there are several mutually incompatible explanations) and I am profoundly disinterested in them. Nothing could make this even slightly realistic and it was never intended to be. Star Wars sings space shanties at scientific/mathematical realism as it sails past on a completely different ship going in the exact opposite direction.

And I do mean "sails" because while astronomy might tell us that space is unfamiliar and wild on a level we as Earthbound lifeforms can barely comprehend, Star Wars understands that space is basically an ocean, yet with stars and cool but survivable planets in it, or sometimes it's air but combined with a super cool space background so you can have early 20th century aerial combat that would make no sense in actual space conditions and doesn't need to.

"If you consider relativity, then just running the Empire would be..." General relativity does not govern the galaxy far, far away. Space magic does. I'm not sure there are even time zones.

[thepixelelf]

Band of Silver, Remember my Vow [Teaser]

Based on and inspired by the Sanskrit play, Sakuntala; or The Ring of Recollection, by Kālidāsa, which dramatizes the story of Sakuntala as told in the epic, the Mahābhārata

genres: romance, angst, past civilization au (set in a made up land inspired by joseon and influenced by other asian (and hints of european :/) cultures), subtle magic, not e2l just people who annoy each other at the start to people hopelessly in love w each other pairing: healer reader x lord scoups. platonic reader & soldier dino teaser word count: 2.2k estimated fic word count: ~15k teaser warnings: injury by weapon to an animal (hunting). animal attack. estimated fic warnings: descriptions of blood, injury, and illness. (possibly) sex but not smut. animal gore. notes: this was meant to be for caratlibrary's fall collaboration, but I flubbed it on the deadline (no surprise there!). I'm still not done, but I wanted to post this to see if people are as interested in the story as I am! I will not be making a requestable taglist, however I will be tagging people who comment/show interest in the tags of reblogs

In the story of Sakuntala, the king Dusyanta ends a hunting trip before he comes across the beautiful Sakuntala in a nearby hermitage. He is immediately captivated by her, courts her, and marries her soon after. However, he must return to his royal duties in the capital. He leaves his signet ring with her, promising to return. While distracted with her love for Dusyanta, Sakuntala forgets to greet a visiting and easily irritated sage. Angered by her disrespect, he curses her by making Dusyanta forget her existence. He is later convinced to lighten her punishment, and revises the curse so that the king will remember everything upon seeing the ring he left behind.

teaser under the cut!

The bowstring pulls taut as Seungcheol draws his arm back. His aim is unwavering— it better be, with all the years of training his breath to even at will, all those days spent shooting arrows at dyed targets and skittering rabbits. He kneels in the grass, still as a corpse, and waits for the stag to lift its head from where it’s dipped at the base of a tree.

Wait. Patience. That’s what he was taught.

Patience. Wait. Wait. Breathe.

But — air huffs through Seungcheol’s nose — why isn’t it lifting its damn head? The entire forest surrounding him is quiet. Nothing is here to disturb this perfect moment. This almost perfect moment.

Seungcheol fills his chest with air again, even and silent.

Wait. Patience. Breathe. Lift your damn—

“What are you doing?”

Startling at the sudden whisper in his ear, Seungcheol swerves to the side, his fingers slipping and releasing his arrow into the air. It slams into a tree, right where the stag’s neck would have been had it lifted its head. The sound echoes through the forest, and it spooks the stag. It dashes off out of sight, and Seungcheol curses under his breath.

“Why would you—” He whips his head around and finds you crouching next to him, a woven basket resting on your hip, held there by one hand. For only a moment, he is distracted by your face, and the way the sunlight, broken through the leaves of the forest, dances on your cheeks. He clears his throat. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

You blink and tilt your head. “What have I done?”

Abruptly, Seungcheol stands, gesturing his bow towards where the stag disappeared. “My— you…” He huffs, then looks away, returning the bow to its spot on his back and tearing off his gloves in muted frustration.

He came here for a distraction, but you are closer to an annoyance, albeit a not unattractive one. He prefers to lose himself in the concentration of the hunt.

As he moves to follow the deer, your voice stops him.

“Where are you from?”

When he turns, you’ve already stood up, and you regard him with slightly furrowed brows.

“You must be from rather far,” you say without giving him much chance to respond. “Were you planning on shooting him?”

“Him?” Seungcheol echoes. “You’re referring to that animal?”

You hum, nodding to yourself. “Rather far indeed. He may very well have been the patron spirit of these woods.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a terrible dishonour to harm an antlered one in this forest. A dishonour to what this place provides, and the vast life within it,” you explain, though the words mean nothing to Seungcheol. You step closer to him, tilting your body to peer at the quiver of arrows on his back. “You’d be a fool to attempt to kill one, and invite grand misfortune by doing so.”

His jaw clenches, and air comes out of his nose hot. “Who are you to call me a fool? Do you know who I am?”

You straighten. “Am I supposed to? You’re quite far from home.”

“I am Lord Choi Seungcheol,” he announces with pride, though it tastes of the arrogance his mother always tutted at on his tongue. “General of the Four Peak Soldiers, and— and future ruler of the Eastern District.”

You make a face, and it only makes the anger in Seungcheol burn hotter.

“A lord, huh?” you taunt. “Or a general. Which one is it? Or does it not matter?” Leaning back slightly, you study his face. “Certainly, it doesn’t matter to me. I am neither a Four Peak soldier, nor a citizen of the Eastern District, so I will say as I please. A fool is a fool.”

Seungcheol raises his hand, and you flinch, but only slightly. Your eyes remain firm on his.

He lowers his hand, tired of your presence and of having to listen. If he and you were in his district, you’d have serious punishment awaiting your next sunrise. However, he was out on his own, alone on a rogue, spontaneous hunting trip far away from home because he wanted some space to get his thoughts together. It’s something he’s done before, two or three or nine times. His mother shows contempt for this habit of his, but she does not try to stop him. All she asks is that he not bring home trouble.

You seem like trouble.

How was he supposed to know that the woods he ventured into had such trivial myths to abide by?

He is Choi Seungcheol, damn it. Your silly fairy tales won’t deter him.

Deciding to spare you this time, Seungcheol breathes out and turns away, walking now in the direction of where he tied his horse. Perhaps this trip was a failure. To expect to clear his head the same way he has done before was foolish — though he would never admit that. What is on his mind now is much heavier, much more inevitable than the other things he would run away from in his youth.

A marriage to the country’s princess.

His marriage to her.

Seungcheol’s hands twitch, and he yearns to draw his bow again.

“Lord General,” you call out, the tone of your voice itself a warning. “Don’t be a fool.”

He ignores you.

=

Ricecake seems to have had a much better experience in this forest than Seungcheol. He finds her munching on the lush, untrodden grass, and he almost feels bad for interrupting her meal. However, that feeling lessens when he remembers that if he were successful in his hunt, she'd have to carry the spoils all the way home. At least she has that.

Seungcheol rides for not half an hour, following the river, before another stag dashes alongside his path. He spends no time thinking. Pulling his bow from his shoulder, he notches an arrow and lets it fly. A second arrow leaves his fingers before he blinks.

The stag rears on its hind legs, one arrow in its thick neck and one pierced directly through its eye. It shrieks, haunted and low.

But it does not fall.

Seungcheol dismounts from his horse and draws another arrow, aiming again for its neck so it cannot escape far before it dies. He expects it to run in the opposite direction.

Its hooves dig into the dirt beneath it, and the stag charges towards Seungcheol.

He has no time to react, his arms moving instinctually to protect his head, before pain blooms fiery red from his torso. An icy cold engulfs him, and everything goes dark.

=

Pain is what wakes him up, dull and aching, but when he attempts to right himself, Seungcheol winces. A fierce pang rings in his body from his stomach to his right ear, which sparks a jolt of pain throughout his head. He falls back again, though his head doesn’t hit the hard earth. Instead, a steady hand catches his head, and another gently touches the front of his shoulder, as if to calm him.

“Easy there, Lord General.”

Your voice, and the way you patronise his titles again, make Seungcheol frown. It hurts to breathe, but he can’t help the annoyance that refills within him. What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow him? Why are your hands so gentle?

Though his headache may worsen with sunlight, Seungcheol pries his eyes open. His eyelids are heavy, and for a moment, he thinks he must not have opened them fully. He can barely see you, even though it was midday when he’d been knocked unconscious. It then registers that he is no longer outside, in the woods, but in a room, lowly lit with sparsely strewn candles.

The realisation makes him want to jump up again, but the pain in his torso forces a groan from him, and he falls back onto the support of your hand. He strains his head to assess his surroundings. “Where am I?” he grits out. It hurts to speak.

“Be careful,” you say, concern sewn into your brows. “You may have broken your ribs.”

He demands, though perhaps sounding weaker than he likes, “Answer the question.”

Your lips settle into a straight line, and you breathe out through your nose. “You’re in my home.”

“Why?”

“I found you nearby,” you begin to explain, pulling your hand out from under him to cross your arms. He feels a thin layer of folded cloth under his head. “You were washed up on the riverbank, unconscious. Bloody…bruised…” You tilt your head. “Perhaps even more bruised now, since I practically had to drag you here, though the balm should help with the scrapes.”

“Balm?” Seungcheol echoes. Now that he thinks about it, there is a strange warmth seeping through the skin on his face. “You’re a healer,” he concludes.

You nod, and for the first time, Seungcheol sees a smile on your lips. In the candlelight, it only adds to the warmth.

“You’re lucky it was me who found you. Who knows how long you were lying in the cold water.” You sit back, eyes thoughtfully gazing over Seungcheol’s blanket-covered body. They pause around where Seungcheol’s left hand is. “I was able to save almost all your fingers.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen, and he jerks his hands out from under the blanket to hold above his face. The pain this causes is in the background compared to his panic, but that fades soon after he sees all ten fingers, wiggles them, then glares at you.

You’re smiling wider now. “That was a joke, Lord General.” At his glare sharpening, you let out a small laugh. “Your fingers are fine. They might be stiff for a few days, though.” Your expression shifts to a more serious one. “Your ribs, on the other hand… You’re severely bruised. I suspect they may be fractured.

Breathing in again, Seungcheol watches the way you eye his chest as it rises and falls. It hurts like a bonfire has sparked in his lungs.

“What happened?” you ask, no residual hint of playfulness in the simple question.

“I…” In the back of his mind, Seungcheol sees the stag again, sees the blood rivering from its eye and neck, sees its antlers as they bouldered into him. He sees you, and how you spoke to him in the forest. An enchantingly bright bad omen.

Don’t be a fool.

Yet here he is, under your care in your home, for doing the very thing you warned him not to.

"...I fell," he says after a moment of quiet. It’s only a half-lie. He did fall, even if that wasn’t how he sustained the injuries to his ribs.

One of your eyebrows rises up your forehead. “You fell.”

“...Yes.”

You hum, doubtful. “Off your horse, I assume. I’ve seen similar bruising and fractures when people are kicked. It happens to someone around here at least once a year; there’s no shame in getting unsaddled.”

He’s never fallen off Ricecake — she’s the perfect companion, but Seungcheol grits his teeth and says, “I suppose there’s not.”

A triumphant grin appears on your face, and you turn slightly to reach for a small notebook. “Well, Lord General—”

“That is not my title,” he interrupts on principle, though he instantly regrets it with the waking pain in his chest. Still, he cannot stop himself from correcting you. “You will address me as Lord Choi, or ‘my Lord’.”

Your eyes don’t leave your notes. “Alright Lord General, it—”

“You can’t—”

“—is my professional opinion that you should be on bed rest for three days, though your full recovery could take two to three moons. I’ll need to monitor your breathing until it regulates.” You speak as if Seungcheol is just anyone, not someone with power or higher standing. To you, he is just a patient.

Why does that thought not continue to anger him?

“I need to find my horse,” he tells you. “There are healers in the Four Peak fortress that can oversee my recovery.”

You shake your head. “Riding is out of the question. It will only worsen your condition.”

“I can’t stay here. I am needed as their leader.” And his mother is going to kill him for being gone more than a few days without a word.

“Do you have a palanquin?”

Seungcheol frowns. “Do I look like I have a palanquin with me?”

“Could you send for one?” you rephrase.

He ponders on that. It is rare for him to ride a palanquin, even back home. The cart is used more decoratively these days, reserved for events like longevity parades through the city, and no longer for extended trips over uneven ground like the forests he travelled through to find himself on your land. 

Still, he can’t stay here. Certainly not for three moons. “I’ll write a missive.”

“Alright,” you say with a nod. “There’s a merchant group that travels every two weeks between here and a city in the Eastern District. You can send it with one of them.”

“When are they travelling next?”

“You’re lucky, Lord General. They leave for the east in five days.”

Not as soon as he’d like, but at least the merchants hadn’t just left. Then he would have to stay here for one full moon before he’d even be able to send for help.

“For now,” you continue, “you should rest. It’s late, and your body needs time to recover.”

do not send an ask/reply just asking to be on a taglist!! I will only be tagging people who reblog and comment in the tags!!

[redroomreflections]

Our Little Family - The Loud House Drabble

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: a direct response to Thread of A Promise. Natasha and R reflect on how far they've come a few years into the future.

The Loud House can be read on a03

note: a friend requested this so y'all can thank them for that.

tw: mention of child loss

Sometimes, you try not to think about it too much. You try to push that morning to the back of your mind. It's been years—three to be exact. You’d woken up to your worst nightmare and the deepest heartache you’d ever experienced. These days, it's a bit easier to bear.

With the loss of your child, you gained clarity. You knew what was important, who was important. You poured all your energy into volunteering, spending more time working with children in any capacity you could. You and Natasha became foster parents. Children have come and gone from your home, and you’ve loved and cared for them all the same.

Now, you have Cara. She’s the light of your life and the sassiest little preteen you could have ever asked for. Her adoption went through just a few months ago when you got another call for respite care. With Willow back in Atlanta, the sound and pitter-patter of little feet is missed. Of course, you jumped at the chance.

James and Charlotte are like breaths of fresh air. They fit right in. Charlotte is three and spunky. James at barely fifteen months old is still developing his little personality. 

 Mostly, he enjoys clinging to you and Natasha. He still has so much time to explore the world. Getting the kids into a routine is a feat. It's only been a few weeks since they've been home and their future is uncertain. Which causes a touch of anxiety for the ever-perceptive Charlotte.

Tonight, she'd thrown her first epic temper tantrum, kicking and screaming for what seemed to be no reason at all. Of course, you could probably pinpoint a few things. You'd had a work meeting that ran over a little too long. Natasha was stuck in traffic after training and therefore came home a little late after dinner.

You tried your best. You read her a bedtime story and gave her a little more warm milk. Still, she threw the bottle across the room. That in turn startled James who had been feeling a bit insecure on his own. Natasha had stepped in to see the tail end of things. She didn't ask questions. She rolled up her sleeves and got down to business. She carried Charlie into the bathroom to get started on a bath. Charlie mostly clung to Natasha as she watched the bubbles form in the water.

Meanwhile, you got James undressed too hoping that a bit of skin-to-skin would calm him down. He was all red-faced and teary-eyed as you walked toward the bathroom. Your frustration dwindled when you saw Natasha and Charlie standing beside the tub, both dipping their hands in and trying out the bubbles. Charlie still had a few tears streaming down her face along with hiccups but even she couldn't help but laugh at Natasha's antics.

She blew a few bubbles, then tried to pop a few of them, and she had a look of pure concentration on her face. It's so adorable, you can't help but watch.

"Can you tell me why you were sad, Charlie?" Natasha asked as she stood next to the little girl.

"Um, I wanted you," Charlie stuttered."I wanted you to come home." She swiped a hand across her cheeks. "To be with me."

Natasha nodded, then looked to you."Why didn't you use your words and tell Momm-y/n?" Natasha corrects herself. It's habit she's so used to talking to Cara. She doesn't want to force it on Charlie. The little girl could use whatever title she saw appropriate. "We've been practicing."

Charlie shrugged."'Cause...I don't know."

"Because you were afraid or sad?"

Charlie's bottom lip jutted out and she nodded."Yeah."

"I'm here now. And y/n did her very best," Natasha said softly, her eyes flickering to yours for a moment. You're standing with James tucked against your chest. "I'm sorry you were feeling bad. I know how you like our routine just as it is."

"And baby brother was crying too and it was so loud," Charlie pointed out. Even though she was partly to blame for his crying. You would never tell her that.

"He gets upset when his schedule is thrown off," You said."We should've made sure to keep it together. We'll do better next time, right Nat?"

"Yes, we will," Natasha promised. She helped Charlie step into the bathtub. Meanwhile, James refused to be put down. He whimpered when you tried to set him onto his feet.

"Okay, okay," You sighed."I guess you're staying with me, little man." You bounced him on your hip and pressed a kiss to his temple. He settled after that. You watched Natasha bathe Charlie. Eventually, he calmed enough for you to include him in the bedtime ritual. Tonight though you knew the kids needed a little more loving.

With them all dressed and moisturized, you turned on their favorite lullaby music. The nursery housed the crib and Charlie's bed. After a lot of trial and error, you realized they slept better being in the same room. Charlie was protective of her brother and often wanted to be with him. This was the compromise. Eventually, during this little routine, you and Natasha switched children. The heavier weight of Charlie was comforting as she rested her head on your shoulders. She sucked her thumb into her mouth, her eyes fluttering closed only briefly as she fought her sleep. Natasha was having a good time beside you as she rubbed James' bare body soothingly. He's barely fifteen months and still so tiny and cuddly. This moment felt like heaven.

"Mmm," James babbled to himself. Just like his sister, he was fighting his sleep.

"It's funny how life turned out isn't it?" Natasha spoke softly.

"Hmm?" You questioned as you moved your gaze from Charlie's sleeping form to Natasha's loving gaze.

"I was just thinking," She breathed. "About him," Natasha said and you instantly knew what she was talking about.

"I think about him sometimes too," You avoided her gaze. Your unborn baby was always on your mind. It's funny that even after all this time you both were insistent on being a boy. You'd lost him before you could ever find out.

"I think about how I was scared out of my mind."

You frowned and looked at her. "Of what?"

"I was terrified to become a mother," Natasha confessed."I was terrified I wouldn't be a good mother."

"Well, I can say for sure that I was right," You smiled. "You are one badass boy Mama."

Natasha chuckled and shook her head."Thank you. But you were so confident and ready."

"Not really," You disagreed. "I was scared too."

"But you were so excited and open to the idea." Natasha began. "I was too but I don't know. I knew would have this. What we have here."

"Our own little James," You dared to say. He's not even yours yet. Not truly. He still belongs to the state. Both of them do. But you hope and pray that they get to stay.

"Is it hard for you? The fact that he has the same name?"

"At first it was..." You trailed off. "I was afraid of the memories and the pain but now...now it's the sweetest memory."

"That's how I feel," Natasha agreed.

"I don't want to let my thoughts slip and believe in reincarnation or something freaky," You shake your head. "The ages kind of align."

"I've noticed," Natasha hummed. She planted a sweet kiss atop James's head. He gave her a soft coo in return.

"I don't want to treat him as if he is ours in that way," You shook your head. "As if he's just here to fill some void and that he has the same name. It's just... have you ever felt like you're right where you're supposed to be."

"More than you know," Natasha's lips spread into a smile."I never thought I would have any of this. Now I do and it feels amazing."

"I never thought I'd love someone the way I love you."

"And I love you more than anything in this world," Natasha promised."You have the biggest and the most beautiful heart. I love the family we have created."

"Me too," You sighed happily.

[0mysticmidnight0]

Hey so how do you think rise Leo would deal with having a s/o who is usually low energy to hyping him up. He’s trying to be cool and he’s looking for enthusiasm and they’re just like “…Yay…” quietly cuz they can’t force it but when he does something actually amazing and is not looking for enthusiasm, even though he does want it, s/o actually starts screaming cheers and is the loudest in the crowd?

Haha.. i'm STILL alive and kicking! Anyways... enjoy! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Leo has been waiting, training his whole life for this.. for you! You were gonna watch him. His most impressive move! He's never nailed this once.. But with you there, he knows he can do it.. -Leo exhales for extreme focus and leans on his skateboard, performing the trick perfectly! for the first time! "OH MY GOSH, OH MY GOSH, DID YOU SEE THAT-? AhEm, i mean.. did you see that?" -You just raise your fist in the air. " Woo...! go leo..!"

-He pouts but gives you a kiss anyways. "I know, i know.." -He sighs. "do i get a kiss atleast?" -you gave him a kiss and he hugs you with pure joy. That following week during his turn to patrol cause Donnie was busy with his new project, Mikey had a new piece he was working on and Raph was training with Pops. -He sees you down the street and was about to say hi until the foot beat him to it. After his epic fight of 2 vs 1 which he took those two down no problem, he looks at you worried. "Are you okay-? did they hurt you-" -You cut him off by kissing him and wrapping your hands around him.. "That was so cool!!" "I-I was? Of course i was. Fear not damsel for your knight in shining armor is here!" -You laugh as he says this a weird deep voice, trying to sound like a knight from the medieval times. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bonus: a few moments later Leo: WHAT THE FU- hope you enjoyed. -MysticMidnight

[greenorangevioletgrass]

The Actress & The Aviator Masterlist

* indicates smut

It’s Classified* — what was supposed to be a simple one-night stand during the training for your upcoming movie turns into an epic strangers-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-friends-lovers adventure… 10,000 feet in the air. part 1, part 2

Openin’ Up* — it's an ordinary morning in their new house, and bradley gets enlisted for help with an... extraordinary warm-up for a morning rehearsal (aka the morning blowie fic).

Forever Young — the 4 times Bradley lost a parental figure, and the 1 time he regained one (and became one himself.)

Given the Circumstances* — your relationship with Bradley goes from 0 to 100 after a little happy accident (aka the pregnancy fic). part 1, part 2 (tba)

Song blurbs* — a collection of song fics based on bradley and actress’ playlist.

if you wanna check out everything actress & aviator, come right over to the tag here #the actress & the aviator ✨