#anyone is welcome to adopt this to a full fic

[rainbowskullsandcoffee]

destiel au prompt where dean and cas are actors and are main casts in a hit sitcom.

im thinking Friends or HIMYM sitcom vibes

dean's character is a joey/barney (aka suave womanizer archetype but also a dork)

cas' character is a ross/ted (nerdy and a hopeless romantic) he plays his character like what Misha Collins is like irl

cas strains himself on how he needs to get his voice to go higher (fans love the huge personality gap of his character and his real life self)

they get to know each other behind the scenes

from co-workers to friends to really good friends (like they're always spotted hanging out) to lovers

no one suspect a thing that they're probably dating (except for a small group of people who also ships their characters) because the cast also became a close-knit group of friends in real life

from the start, dean has a strict rule of never getting romantically involve with his co-stars (which soon dissolves as he develops a crush on cas)

he reluctantly mentions this crush to his lawyer brother to vent his frustrations but not revealing who it is

this freakishly tall little brother promptly visits him on set (to be a pain in his ass) and immediately knew who the said crush is

the show would have the same premise of that Friends episode, "the one with the Nap Partners" where behind the scenes dean and cas eventually did fall asleep in each other's arms (they're not dating here yet)

a castmate secretly took a picture of them napping which will then be posted when the couple announce that they are in fact dating. it's caption is "here's one for you destiel shippers"

the Nap Partners episode could be the turning point of their relationship where they get over themselves and realize they want the same thing

after getting together, they have bloopers of accidentally calling each other pet names.

the cast tease them abundantly, blatantly calling dean's or cas' character "babe" whenever they have scenes with them. making even the crew crack up.

years after the show ends, their wedding was also a huge cast reuinon

[absurdthirst]

Vivid {Mando x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN, dubious consent, fuck or die, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69, face sitting, blindfolds, sex in the dark, vaginal sex, rough sex, overstimulation, cream pie, cum eating, masturbation

Comments: A chance encounter in the canyon just beyond Din's little house on Nevarro leads to a sticky situation. A vivid pink flower, a powerful aphrodisiac, and a need to fuck has Mando bringing you home.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The changes around Nevarro are….nice. The little house that was deeded to Din is far enough away from town that he doesn’t feel crowded, yet it’s close enough that he can walk Grogu to the little school that he had enrolled him in. His journeys needed to include more socialization than bounty hunters, killer droids and Mandalorians. He needed to be able to move throughout many different cultures respectfully and what better place to learn than school?

Din’s own education happened in the Fighting Corps. Effective, but he had a mind to raise his adoptive son and apprentice better than his own teacher had. Especially since Grogu had an advantage that he had never wielded, the force. 

“No Grogu,” Din shakes his head and sighs softly as the fifty year old baby tries once again to float his little school pack off the shelf to where he is sitting. Wanting to go to school, even though it’s the weekend. “There is no school today.” 

****

It had been a long day so far, you’d run your usual errands and finished a few tasks around your home. A few of the children in your class had been requesting some more painting time during the week, and never one to dim anyone’s excitement for the arts, you couldn’t say no.

You like to make sure that art class is just as educational as it is fun, so you grabbed your book of plants and flowers and got ready to make your way out of town to collect and pick some plants and flowers for the kids to paint and learn to identify. 

The cool breeze was welcomed as you began your trip, a wicker basket hanging comfortably from the crook of your elbow as you made your way through the town, greeting everyone politely and with a warm smile as you did so. 

You like Nevarro. Especially as of recent, the town was much friendlier and a new sense of community had fallen across the planet. 

After a brief chat with one of your overexcited students and his parents you continued your walk while nibbling on some fresh fruit from a stall you had passed.

The kid is passed out in the little bed that Din had bought for him, the Mandalorian steps out of the house, striding off towards the canyon. He needs to tune his blaster, having replaced the plasma cartridge earlier. The domesticity is unusual, but he likes it, a set schedule and a home to make meals in. It’s oddly appealing, even though he does often wonder how the covert is doing on Mandalore.

After a nice breezy walk, your basket is almost full, you’ve picked multiple flowers and plants for the children to paint and learn about. The canyon is quiet, peaceful, the only sound coming from the soft breeze shaking the trees and the occasional twitter from the out of sight creatures. 

You’re just about to leave and make your way back home, before it catches your eye and steals your attention. A vivid shade of pink and standing alone. The petals are perfectly uniform and it’s the most perfect looking flower that you’ve ever seen.

Din sighs, seeing someone in the canyon ahead of him. There wouldn’t be any practice unless the person was just leaving. Making him huff under his helmet and hope that it wasn’t someone who is looking for trouble.

You kneel down in front of the flower, appreciating its beauty before reaching into your basket and pulling out your holopad. Unable to resist taking a few snaps of the gorgeous flower. 

Zooming in on the photo you notice a figure in the background that you immediately recognise as the father of Grogu - the new and unbelievably adorable little green foundling in your class. 

You place your holopad back in your basket, figuring he’ll want some space. He’s polite, not much of a talker but there’s something about him that’s… intense. The kind of intenseness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand upright and makes that magic button downstairs pulse uncontrollably until it gets the attention it deserves. 

You gently snip the bottom of the stalk and gently scoop up the flower in your hands, inhaling its gorgeous and intoxicating scent and letting it flood your senses.

And then it hits you.

Walking closer, he recognizes that it’s Grogu’s teacher. You are a newcomer to Nevarro, at least, you hadn’t been here when it was a bounty hunter’s hive. One of the more gentle settlers, and it doesn’t hurt that besides him, you are Grogu’s favorite person. 

He smiles slightly under his helmet, wondering what you are doing out here in the canyon, although he spies the basket on your arm.

The effect is immediate, within seconds fire is coursing through your veins and pain meets a new type of pleasure in the most delicious way. 

Every nerve ending in your body is set alight, and the pleasure center in your brain is working overtime. Arousal floods your core, your nipples harden and your clit is pulsing with desperate need out of nowhere. 

You start to whimper as your legs threaten to fail beneath you, you’re still kneeling but you feel as though you’re about to collapse in a heap on the floor. The sounds that leave your mouth are nothing short of filthy, and you become more and more aware of your need for something to quench the flames that are burning stronger with every passing second.

Seeing you stumble, Din rushes forward. Hand on his blaster as he tilts his head up, searching for danger. Why else would a healthy woman nearly collapse? “Hey! Hey, get down!” 

“The flower,” you say with a breathy moan, “I think it’s the flower.”

He’s already reached your side, grabbing you and your basket and dragging you behind a craggy outcrop in the canyon, getting you to cover. Unaware of your moaned words,�� they were too unintelligible. The pollen from the flower drifts under his helmet, not pressurized against contaminants and floods his nostrils in a heady rush.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you babble, as you start to pull on the collar of your dress. The material feels much too constricting and far too warm despite the cool breeze.

“Dank ferik.” Din hisses, his own armor suddenly feeling as if it weighs more than the great forge on Mandalore. “It’s- it’s the pollen.” He croaks out, slapping the basket out of your hand, but he knows it’s too late.

“What’s w-wrong with the pollen?” You gasp out, unsure why your clothes feel heavy and your body is trembling uncontrollably. Your need to be touched now is desperate.

“It’s an aphrodisiac.” He grunts, cock already hardening and tenting the fabric of his flight suit. “It- it lasts for hours and-“ His eyes under his helmet widen as he remembers one particular trait of this toxic flower.

“And?” You ask frantically, “And what?”

“Your heart explodes if you don’t- uh, have sex.” His hand slaps against the rock wall of the canyon and he groans, thinking about an activity that he has long denied himself. He’s been too busy with the kid to seek out any companionship, even for a night.

“What?” You say with a pained laugh, “How is that -fuuuuck- how is that even possible?” The lace from your bra rubs painfully against your hardened peaks and you have to physically fight the urge to free yourself of your dress and bra.

He doesn’t fucking know, but the digital display in his helmet is broadcasting that fact as he looks down at the flower. “What the fuck were you doing with it?” He demands, trying to think about something other than pushing you against the rocks and burying himself in your cunt.

“I was just.. I’m picking flowers for the kids to paint,” you say between labored breaths, “Please, do something. It fucking hurts.” You start to beg, unsure what can be done.

He hadn’t anticipated that response. Groaning, he shakes his head. Knowing that a quick fuck in the canyon isn’t going to do it. Plus it’s too exposed out here. “Hold on to me.” He orders, stumbling next to you and wrapping his arm around your back before he kicks on his Rising Phoenix.

You squeal with shock as you’re shot upwards into the deep blue sky, your arms wrapping so tightly around The Mandalorian that it hurts.

Din’s groans are covered by the sounds of the jetpack and the wind. His cock is throbbing and leaking into the flight suit and he knows you have to be feeling worse. Your exposure was vastly greater than his own.

He senses the moment that the pain becomes too much for you to bear, his arms wrapping even tighter around you as you start to lose your grip. Pain shoots throughout your body as you whimper in his arms.

“We-it’s- it’s close.” He groans, his own body used to pain although he’s never experienced an arousal that might override all his senses like this before. All he can think about is stripping you down, burying himself in your body over and over until relief is finally achieved.

“I can’t hold on much longer,” you gasp, as the aching between your thighs grows stronger and more uncomfortable.

The outline of his small cabin appears and it can’t be a second sooner. His entire body is tense and his jetpack is nearly sputtering as it sets down on the ground in front of the remote dwelling. His star-fighter is parked off to the side and he is grateful that the baby is still asleep in his own little room.

His grip on you stays firm as you reach the ground, and he gently pulls you into his cabin. Spinning you around he presses you up against the door and gently palms your tit with his gloved hands.

“Tell me-“ Din groans and bites his lip under his helmet. “Dank ferik, tell me I can fuck you, Mesh’la.” He begs.

“You can fuck me,” you say with a moan as you press yourself up against him, desperate to feel him inside of you.

His head turns towards the door where Grogu is sleeping, relieved to find it still closed and he steps back to drag you away from the wall. “My room.” He demands, knowing the kid didn’t need to wake up and see anything.

“Yes, sir,” you say as you follow him on shaky legs into the room. Your clothes feel heavy against your skin, but you wait for his command to remove them. Standby patiently but writhing in discomfort as he walks towards you. “I need to take my dress off,” you say, as the material irritates your skin.

“Take it off.” He knows he will rip your dress if it touches it and he needs to get out of his armor. It’s chafing his skin and he’s overheating.

You immediately unzip the dress and let it fall to the floor, before working on your bra and panties. “Need you so badly,” you whine and you climb down onto the bed, and spread your legs. Dipping your fingers into your entrance and spreading some of your arousing through your folds and circling your clit.

“Dank ferik.” The armor clanks to the floor carelessly. Unable to treat it as reverently as he normally does. Fingers fumbling as his cock throbs, visor trained on your cunt.

“Hurry,” you beg, as you circle your clit faster, you’re soaked enough for him to slide right in with little resistance. “Am I allowed to touch you?” You ask as you continue working your clit, you know a little about Mandalorian creed but you’ve never fucked one before and want to make sure you’re respectful and you don’t cross any boundaries.

“I-I’m going to turn out the lights.” He groans, wanting to see you, touch you. And have you touching him. “And I need to blindfold you.”

“Whatever you need,” you say, as you turn your head so he can blindfold you. “I won’t touch you unless you explicitly tell me where it’s okay, and I promise the blindfold will stay on until you take it off.”

“You can touch me.” He is panting as he ties the blindfold and quickly strips out of the flightsuit and his boots. Even though he is burning, he hesitates when reaching for his helmet.

You reach out and let your fingers run across his chest, “Fuck,” you say, as your pussy clenches around nothing, “Want you to fuck me so badly, but I really wanna suck your cock first, Mando. I want to rub my little pussy while you fuck my throat.”

“No.” He chokes out, knowing that your body is screaming for release worse than his own is. It makes the decision easy and the click of the locks is accompanied by a slight hiss as he lifts the helmet off his head and it clatters to the ground.

“Oh,” you say, clearly disappointed but still rubbing your clit as fast as you can and chasing your release. “How do you want me?”

Din knocks your hand away and climbs up on the bed to pull you up and spin you around. A lifetime of training makes picking you up easy and he flips you onto your stomach on his chest. “Suck my cock and I’ll lick you.” He rasps out, his voice unmodulated and clear. “Never done it, but I want to. You need it.”

The sound of his voice is even sexier when unmodulated. Raspy and rough. Each word going straight to your pussy. “Yes, sir,” you say as you feel around and finally get his cock in your hand. It’s thick, veiny and dripping in pre-cum, the room is dark enough and the blindfold is opaque enough that you can’t see it but it feels glorious in your hands. You give him a teasing lick, lapping up all the pre-cum before taking the tip of him in your mouth.

Din groans, his gloveless hands reaching for your hips and his entire body shudders when he realizes that it’s full skin to skin contact. Dragging you back and immediately plunging his tongue inside your quivering and leaking cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you choke out as you pull off his cock, loving the dexterous heat of his tongue. You take him back into your mouth and hollow your cheeks, your moans vibrating against his cock as he eats your pussy. For someone who said he’d never done this before he’s unbelievably skilled, eating you with such vigor that after a few minutes you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

There have been a lot of holo vids around oral sex in his past, learning and aching to try the things that he saw. Although he’s not got a forked tongue like some species, nor one as long, he still grunts in pleasure as you moan loudly around his cock. Rocking your hips back to taste you more, getting deeper into your cunt.

“Gonna cum,” you croak out around him, before swirling your tongue around the tip of him and pulling away before cumming with a loud whimper of the only name you know for him, “Fuck, Mando!’

Din nearly whimpers at the loss of your mouth but the sweetness of your cum makes up for it. Soaking his face like he’s never experienced before. His cock throbs and he pulls away. “Close.” He chokes out, knowing he’s going to cum from this alone.

You take him back into your mouth and double down on your efforts, sucking him harder and licking your tongue around him. You take him as deep as you can, working the bottom of his shaft with your hands, saliva dripping everywhere as you work him towards his high. Needing to feel his cock twitch and start to flood your mouth with his cum.

It doesn't take him but a few more seconds when your mouth wraps back around him for Din to start to cum. Groaning out your name harshly, it's the only warning you get when he shoots a hot rope of cum down your throat, immediately followed by another.

You swallow around him, humming at the rich yet salty taste of him. Not letting a single drop go to waste, eagerly awaiting each burst as your mouth milks him dry. He’s delicious, salty and musky and you want more. You keep sucking until he orders you to stop and you slowly pull off of him with a groan.

Even though he's cum, his body still aches, his cock is still hard and he knows you aren't satisfied either. "My tongue or my cock in your cunt this time?" He pants out, needing to know where to bury his cock again.

“Your cock, please,” you beg as you lift off of him, “Do you want me to ride you, Sir?”

"For now." He knows you might need him desperately and he wants to see how much you are willing to grind on him for his cock.

His harsh tone makes your chest clench, but you push away that feeling and position yourself over him, slowly sinking down on this thick cock and moaning loudly as he stretches you open. His cock fills you entirely, your walls flutter and hug his cock as you get used to the delicious stinging from how stretched out you are from him. You start rocking your hips slowly, before increasing your pace, grinding down on him over and over. Desperate moans slipping through your plush lips as a wave of euphoria floods through you.

The darkness is just enough that he can see you move. A shadow and he wishes that he could turn the lights back on but he can't risk your blindfold coming loose. It's barely a loophole and technicality of the creed, but you can't see him. Not unless you were going to bind yourself to him.

“You feel so good,” you choke out, as you rock your hips a little faster. “So big. So thick.” You murmur again and again as your pace quickens, chasing a high and feeling a desperate need to have him cum hard and paint your walls with his delicious cum.

"Fuck." Din chokes out, puffing up at the praise. It's better than the moans with his cock in your mouth and he palms your tits, plucking at them and pinching your nipples while you bounce on his length.

“Tell me what you need,” you moan, “Fast or slow? Need you to feel good, baby, want to feel this cock fill me up.”

Din curses again. "Fuck, fast." He hisses, squeezing your tits harshly. "Fucking ride me hard."

You do as he commands, increasing your pace and bouncing up and down on him as fast as you can, moaning in pleasure as he hits that spot inside of you. Your hands cover his as he squeezes your tits, holding on tightly as he starts to fuck up into you, matching your pace with his own.

The loud sounds of sex fill his room. His hips snapping up as you bounce down on his cock. Both of you moaning and cursing greedily as the fire of the pollen rages in your systems. He knows you’re craven for his cum, the only thing that can soothe the effects of the flower.

You reach down and start to circle your clit, as you keep the same pace, wanting to clamp down around him and hear those delicious groans from him. “You’re incredible,” you pant as you near your high, circling your clit with perfect precision as he fucks up against nirvana inside of you. “Gonna cum,” you warn, before pleasure washes over you and squeeze his cock like a vice. Yelling his name as you cum, hard.

Letting go of your tits, he grabs your hips again and starts the hammer up into you. His hold on your body is the only thing keeping you from being thrown up into the air. Harsh punches of his cock that hit deep and wrench a cry out of you every time he hits your cervix, he can’t even care if it hurts you because you gush another wave of heat around him.

“Fuck,” you choke out, as he pushes the air from your lungs with every thrust. You’ve never been fucked like this before, but it’s addicting, you crave more and more from him with each harsh thrust of his hips. “Fill me up,” you beg, each word more strained as his pace quickly overwhelms you.

His arms wrap around you and he’s thrusting up into you like you are his personal fuck toy. “Fuck, fuck, gonna, fuck- fill you up.” He promises, grunting out a word every time he buries his cock into your spasming cunt. One harsh thrust later and a harsh bark of your name, he delivers on that promise. Cumming just as hard and as much as when he came down your throat only minutes before.

Falling forward onto him your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck, he’s still hard and twitching inside of you but a wave of exhaustion starts to make an appearance. You pant into his warm skin, arms tightly wrapped around him and you can’t ignore how tense he is. You’re unsure if you’ve crossed a line, but you need to catch your breath again before you’re able to move off of him and ask how he wants you next.

Din is tense from how close you are to his face. It’s been so long but you don’t reach up to touch it. Your arms around his shoulders and your face tucked into his neck. He rolls you onto your back and starts to rock into you again. Knowing that the night isn’t over by a long shot.

You moan as he rocks into you, his stamina clearly better than your own as you attempt to gather up some strength. But he seems content to pick up the slack as your pussy flutters around him and your walls hug him tight. “Are you allowed to kiss me?” You ask, barely above a whisper as his hips snap forward.

Din groans and he nods even though you can’t see him. “Can I?” He breathes above your lips. He’s never kissed before and right now as he fucking you both through a dangerous exposure to sex pollen seem to be a good time to experience it.

“Yes, please.” You plead softly, wanting to taste his lips despite not knowing what they look like. Not caring at all that you have no idea what he looks like.

Permission granted, he crushes his lips to your in a messy kiss. Much less coordinated than when he licked into you, he had avoided kissing holo vids because he had felt jealous.

You giggle a little at the way he smashes his lips against yours, before lightly touching his chin and taking the lead. Licking his bottom lip gently until he parts his lips enough for you to slip your tongue inside and press it against his own. It doesn’t take long until he’s mastering the art and taking control, his lips now refusing to part from yours as he rocks his hips into you. Kissing you just as hard as he fucks you, changing up the pace every now and then and swallowing your moans of delight.

Groaning into your mouth is like ambrosia. You are the best thing he’s ever tasted and he can’t get enough. His cock steadily fills you with strokes and his tongue mimics the motion into your mouth as he pants his pleasure loudly.

With a few more strokes of his cock, he has you clamping down around him and crying out the name you know him by in pleasure. The stuttering of his hips as your pussy acts like a vice around him makes him grunt your name before pulling you in for another breathtaking kiss. The effects of the pollen start to lessen but the effects of him growing stronger. Everything about him is consuming, his scent, the power he commands and with every snap of his hips and grunt of your name; you want more and more.

Din can barely rock his hips but the clenching and squeezing of your cunt pushes him over the edge. This time he is moaning your name into your mouth while pushing more cum into your pussy. Sliding down your cheeks and soaking his bed underneath you in growing puddle.

“Fuck, Mando,” you say against his lips, with a bright smile. “Picking that flower was the best decision I've made in months.” You love the way he twitches inside of you, your walls still hugging him tightly as he groans against your mouth. You gently run your hand up and down his back as he works on catching his breath.

“Din.” There are plenty of people who know his name now and he doesn’t see why you shouldn’t. Given that he had just fucked the life out of you and still had a few more rounds in him before the pollen is completely gone. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Din,” you repeat softly, “I like that. Din.” You press a light kiss to his lips before repeating his name a few more times. “Do you think I can jerk you off next? My pussy isn’t used to being fucked this good. Give her a little break before you fill her up again?”

“Do you want my mouth again?” He asks, knowing you might still need something. “I can just suck on your clit.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, “I know you said that was the first time you did it, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it again if you don’t want.”

“I liked it.” Din twitches inside you as he admits that and kisses you again. “Unless you didn’t like it?”

“I loved it,” you giggle, “Can’t believe that was the first time you’ve done it. Best oral I’ve ever had.” 

“Good.” He grunts happily. “Then I’ll do it again.” He pulls out of you and rolls onto his back.

“You want me to sit on your face and I can jerk you off as you eat my pussy, baby?”

“Fuck yes.” Din groans. “Want to taste your cunt filled with my cum.”

“Fuck,” you moan at his filth, “Yes, sir.” He helps you position over his face, and you hover a few inches above his mouth before reaching down and gripping his cock. Giving it a few languid strokes before finding a pace that has him groaning. “I bet you’ve got a gorgeous cock, Din, I can feel how good it is. But fuck. It’s so thick and long and those veins… I.. fuck. It’s so perfect.” You tell him before he pulls you down and starts to eat your pussy like a man starved. You work his cock like it’s the most important job in the work, each flick of your wrist designed to make him groan and grunt with pure pleasure. “Do you like that? Do you like me stroking your cock while it’s still dripping with my cum, Din?”

He huffs, nodding his head as he continues to lick and taste both of you combined. He’d love it if you sucked his cock again but your hand is good too. Tilting your hips up, he finds your clit and sucks it into his mouth.

“Fuck, Din,” you yell out as he sucks on your clit, “Maker- I could get used to this.” You squeeze his cock a little harder, changing the pace from fast to slow. Wiping your thumb across the tip and gathering up the pre-cum to taste on your fingers. He groans as you let him, bringing your fingers up to mouth and licking them clean before gripping his cock again. “Going to suck your cock again after this, you taste so good, baby.”

Din groans and sucks on your clit harder, pushing his tongue against it and releasing it to lick it and suck it back into his mouth to start the entire process over again. He could get used to this too. Eating your pussy every night and having you on his cock.

“Diiiiiiinnnnnn,” you moan, over and over as he works magic on your clit. You stroke his cock over and over as his hips stutter, “Gonna c-cum.”

He pulls away just to gasp out, “me too.” Before he’s reattaching his lips to your clit like a hungry sucker fish.

“Din, Din, Din,” you chant his name over and over like a sacred prayer, pumping his cock until he’s spurting out thick ropes of cum, cum that you’ve desperate to scoop up and lick from your fingers. You feel your pussy clench down around nothing as your orgasm pulses through you, soaking his face with your arousal as he continues his delicious assault on your bundle of nerves.

You stopped stroking his cock, too focused on your own pleasure but you squeeze him. Making him pulse as his balls draw up against his body again.

“Din,” you pant one last time, as he grunts beneath you. You feel his cock twitching in your hands, clearly desperate for more release, and you resume your strokes. Milking him free of his pleasure and loving the way it pants your skin. Your fingers, wrists and arms are covered in his cum. All of it begging to be licked clean.

Letting go of your clit, Din groans your name as you stroke his cock and milk it of every drop of his release.

The second he stops cumming, you gently let it go and start cleaning it from your skin. Moaning at the taste and humming in content as you swallow it all down. “You taste delicious, Din.”

His cock is still hard but he’s not desperate to be inside you. The fire in his veins nearly burned away and it will only take once more before it’s all done. “You taste good, Mesh’la.” He praises roughly. “Could taste you everyday and be a happy man.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say with a giggle. “It’s wearing off, I think, it doesn’t burn as badly but I think I can go again. You wanna fuck my mouth or my pussy this time, baby?”

“Is your pussy too sore?” He asks, knowing he’s been rough with it.

“I can take you again, I’m definitely going to be feeling you for a while, but I'm not complaining.”

“Why don’t you ride me then?” He asks, stroking your hip. “You can kiss me this time.”

“Perfect,” you say, wasting no time and getting into position and sinking down on him again. You press your lips against his and start to rock your hips, the ache between your legs getting drowned out with pleasure as he matches your pace.

"Shit, shit, fuck,  you are so tight?" Din groans in surprise. "How are you still so tight? We've been fucking for hours." He doesn't stop touching you, anywhere and everywhere he can while you ride him, stroking your back, your hips, sweeping his hands up to your breasts. Greedy for that skin to skin contact now that he's not quite as focused on cumming. "Kiss me, mesh'la." He begs.

You immediately press your lips to his, and moan into his mouth. His hands feel perfect on you, they explore your body with ease as you rock up and down, chasing relief once more around his cock.

This time is less frantic. It’s slower and almost more intimate. It’s almost like you are making love.

“Need you to cum,” you murmur against his lips, exhaustion taking its toll on your fucked out body, as you rock your hips slowly. His thumb pressed up against your clit as you chase some friction

“I will.” He promises. “After you, Mesh’la.”

You move your hips just a little faster, still keeping the pace slow and intimate. His thumb circles your clit perfectly as you grind down on him, cunning with a soft moan of his name, clamping down around him and relishing the groans of pleasure he fills your ear with. “Cum for me, Din,” you plead, as you can come back down.

Now that he feels your entire body melt, he knows the pollen has worked completely out of your system. “Good girl.” He grunts, rocking his hips as he wraps his arms around you. “I’m gonna fill you up again.”

“Please,” you beg, needing to feel his release. “Please, Din.”

He doesn't rush, knowing that you have to be exhausted at this point. Only his ability to go beyond his limits allows him to keep rocking his hips up. As soon as he cums, he knows he will pass out to sleep for a good while. You are almost asleep as he fucks you.

You sink your face into the crook of his neck, unsure how you’re going to find the strength to pull yourself out of bed and make your way home. Rocking your hips more and more, his release clearly moments away, you ride him harder, determined to give him every bit of his pleasure.

"Fuck." He groans and thrusts up one more time to bury himself deep. Throbbing again and feeling your walls grip him tight when he starts to spill inside of you again. Groaning your name quietly as he fills you. Feeling the heat and need of the pollen falling away with the last pulse of his orgasm. 

“Din,” you murmured into his skin, “Tha-thank you.” Exhaustion rumbles in your joints, everything aches, but everything feels worth it when you’re wrapped up in his arms.

"Sleep, mesh'la." He hums, his hand sliding up and down your back gently. He's still inside you and doesn't want to pull out right now. He wants to sleep inside you. "I know you are exhausted."

You hum happily into the crook of his neck, letting him move you slightly and wrapping his arms around you. “Goodnight, Din.” 

Sleep comes easier than it has in months, safely pulling you into slumber as he gently rubs your back and holds you tight to him.

Sometime during the night, Din wakes up. opening his eyes and letting his vision adapt to the darkness. He's softened and is barely inside you but it was probably the most relaxed and the best sleep that he's ever had. Possibly in his entire life. Reaching up, Din gently unties the blindfold that is still firmly over your eyes. He's decided that he wants you to see him. Or have the choice if you wanted him to turn on the lights. Now he just holds you, waiting for you to wake up.

Waking up, you hum contentedly in his arms, nuzzling your nose into his warm skin. The fact he’d removed your blindfold not fully registered yet as you wish him a ‘good morning.’ It’s only as you pull back and the light hits your eyelids that you realize the blindfold is off. “Din,” you say quietly, “Is it ok to open my eyes?”

"Opening your eyes comes with consequences, mesh'la." He admits quietly. "I am not allowed to let anyone see my face. Or I become darmanda." He explains. "I would no longer be Mandalorian."

“What do you want me to do?” You ask, before pressing your lips against his, “Tell me.”

"There is a way that you can see me and I am still Mandalorian." He tells you, slightly nervous about what you would think. It's crazy, but he couldn't stop thinking about it when he woke up. 

“Tell me,” you repeat, “If you want to.”

"If you are my riduur....you can see my face without any consequences."

“Riduur?” You repeat slowly, “What is that?”

“Spouse.” He whispers the Basic word and waits for your reaction.

“Oh,” you say quietly, before bringing your hands up to his chin and gripping it gently. “Riduur,” you repeat, loving the way it sounds, “You could see me as yours one day?”

“You would be mine then.” He tells you. “If you want.”

“I want to be yours,” you say against his lips.

“Then open your eyes, Mesh’la.” He murmurs softly. “You can look at me before we say our vows.”

You kiss him first, pressing your lips firmly against his before pulling back and slowly opening your eyes. Staring deeply into his brown eyes and feeling a smile spread across your face as you take in his features. “Gorgeous,” you say quietly, before letting your fingertips gently run across his face.

His eyes softly and his lips part when your fingers drag across them. He’s been touched by Grogu but this is different. “Pleasant enough? Or should I put my helmet back on?” He jokes self-consciously.

“You’re perfect,” you say honestly, “I can’t believe you’d want me. You’re gorgeous.”

“You are mesh’la, it is Mando’a for beautiful.” He hums, smiling up at you.

“Mesh’la,” you repeat, “You are mesh’la, Din.”

Biting his lip, he says, “repeat after me. Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” you say as clearly as you can, eyes still focused on his as you do so.

Din grins. “It is our vows.” He explains. “It means - We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors."

“We are one.” Taking his hand you bring it to your lips and place a small kiss on it. “Yesterday took an unexpected turn… But I’m so glad I picked that flower.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Good thing I wasn’t secretly a Gungan under my helmet.” He teases.

You giggle back at him before pulling him in for another kiss, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk normally for the next few days, you realize that right?”

“That’s to be expected.” Din flashes you a dirty grin. “Make sure you tell them that when we go to Mandalore.”

“So every time you fuck me, I’m going to be feeling it for days?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Not every time, but when you’re fucking to stay alive, I’ll make sure you feel it.” He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and grinning up at you. “You can pick those flowers anytime you want….riduur.”

“I might just have to do that,” you giggle, “Thank you for saving my life, Din.”

“I think I’ve gotten a pretty good reward.” Din hums. He had settled here for Grogu and it was a nice little place, maybe a little lonely since he’s not so busy, but now he has a feeling he will never be lonely again. Not with you by his side.

[lexosaurus]

Hello people who are getting into Danny Phantom through dpxdc!

I am not a dpxdc blog, but I am a gen dp blog. Here's a few things you should know about us:

👻 Most of us do not like Butch Hartman, the executive producer. We typically ignore him now. What you may not know is that while he was the "business guy" and the one who pitched the show, beloved artist and character designer Stephen Silver is actually the one who designed the characters for Danny Phantom (and, presumably, his team). Not only that, but he has also designed characters for many other shows of that era, including Kim Possible.

👻 Yes, we call ourselves the "phandom." We also, jokingly, sometimes put a ph in front of other things, like calling a fic a phic. It's a bit—don't take it too seriously.

👻 Yes, we have a subgenre of our fanfiction dubbed as the "dissection fic." While I may be a bit biased (as I've written a few), I think it's pretty good. You may enjoy it too if you like angst, who knows.

👻 No, you did not miss an episode, we collectively "made" an OC named Wes Weston who had the same character model as Danny but with a different color pallet. We just thought it was funny. You can read about his story here. The tl;dr is that he's the town crazy conspiracy theorist, he's the only one who knows Danny Fenton is Phantom, and he is constantly trying to prove it but nobody believes him. You remember Dib from Invader Zim? He's like Dib.

👻 On the contrary, you remember the finale of the show? That's okay, we don't either. Phantom Planet who? Never heard of her.

👻 But on the topic of adding things to fanon, the show's been off the air for decades. We're still around. Naturally, we've added things and made different AUs overtime. Different creators have different AUs they like, but you don't have to prescribe to any of them if you don't want. If you're confused about anything you see, feel free to pop me or anyone else an ask and we'd be happy to explain!

👻 There's also different bits of lore that were hinted on in canon that we've expanded. Things like ghost cores, half-ghost biology, worldbuilding with the ghost zone, ghosts having obsessions, dynamics at the school, etc. You're free to adopt or ignore whatever you'd like.

👻 The show is no ATLA, and it's a bit dated for its time, but overall it's a fairly fun background show you can throw on while you're cooking. If you've never seen an episode, I highly recommend watching at least a few fan favorites. I made a list here a while back, and I think it still holds up pretty well.

👻 We host a LOT of events. There's a full calendar of them here. You can assume these are crossover-friendly unless the event coordinators state otherwise (like in the case of phic phight). Feel free to join some!

Welcome, and have fun!

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 8.

Summary: The fallout of arguing with Oliver, not fighting with Farleigh, Felix hooks up with your not-girlfriend, and so you provide comfort to his sort-of-ex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: someone makes a move on the reader while they're very very drunk and the reader is far more sober, but it doesn't go past kissing, if that's something you're possibly concerned about.

A/N: 5424 words. welcome back. this one goes many different places in the span of one night. the farleigh of it all. the annabel of it all. im worried this one might feel OOC so id really like to hear if there's anywhere i could improve on my characterisation, what worked, what didn't?? as always unedited, and as we're nearing the end of the term (in the fic) we only have a few chapters left at oxford before we get to go to saltburn!! LOVE YOU ENJOY!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

"Didn't have to do that," Felix sighed from his desk, head bent low over his textbook. It's the first thing he'd said since Oliver left. You, still on his bed, picking through a textbook for a class you both share, found half-shoved under his bed, look up.

"Do what?"

"That thing with Michael What's-His-Name's file," it almost sounds like guilt in his voice, but he still isn't listening to you, "you could get in real trouble for having that."

In swift movements he stands, and you catch the sight of his scowl despite how he doesn't turn it upon you. Once again he's sitting on the floor, back to the foot of the bed, lighting up another cigarette, legs crossed in front of him.

"I'll put it back tomorrow." You're not used to Felix disapproving of you, it's a kind of discomfort you want to shake as quickly as you're able to. After a moment you add, "I know it's not really Ollie's fault, I shouldn't have -"

"I don't want to talk about Ollie right now." He's focused on balancing his ash tray on his knee, watching it with such intensity it's as if he's trying to define life's secrets from it.

"Should I go?" Murmured, almost like you're afraid of anyone hearing it, even Felix. It hangs, golden in the hazy heat of the afternoon.

"'m not the boss of you," Felix mumbles softly, head low, again his words coloured almost with guilt. You know he will never shake the quiet shame he sometimes is hit with when he remembers the way people often perceive the relationship you two share; too close, too loyal, too imbalanced.

But you've never cared; you will never treat him differently, never want for anything but his happiness, never beat the canine allegations. One day you hope you'll convince him that's okay.

So instead of leaving, you close the textbook and stretch yourself out across his bed, laying the on your belly with your head resting at the foot, by his. Your hand rests on his head, running your fingers through his hair.

Felix breathes out a lung full of smoke. He doesn't look at you. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes. The moment is a quiet one, tension thick and choking and full of things neither of you can talk about.

It's the strangest afternoon you share in a long while, one full of silence and the slow, mind numbing sound of pages being turned and the scratch of pen against paper.

"I'm gonna get ready to go out tonight," you say softly, finally breaking the silence when the courtyard outside is every shade of gold and orange in the sunset. Felix just hums in acknowledgement from his desk, "Fi?"

"Yeah," he huffs, dismissively, still looking at his notes. You've got the file in one hand, doing up the buttons of the shirt you'd forgone in the afternoon heat of his dorm room, but had to wear back to your own.

"You want me to text Oli?" You watch him grow tense at the name alone.

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know," he mumbles, almost forcibly nonchalant, despite the hard line of his shoulders that hadn't been there moments ago. Then, as if to clear the moment, he sits up straighter, turning to you in his desk chair with a look of determination in his eyes, "India still into me do you think?"

"I know India's still into you," you can't help but snort, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Would you be totally cut up if I -" he doesn't even need to finish before you're rolling your eyes.

"She'd be thrilled," but your smile softens a little, even as you shake your head with exasperation, "she's all yours, Fi."

Perhaps it's the fondness with which you acquiesces to his arguably selfish request that makes him take in the full exchange that had just passed. Felix takes a moment, tension and expression dropping as he turns pensive for a moment, unable to look you in the eyes. After a beat, you turn to the door, fully intending on letting the moment pass, but you hear Felix stand.

He doesn't say anything as he approaches you, still wearing that rather grim, thoughtful expression, but he wraps you up in a hug. He holds you as close as he's able, and after a beat of surprise, you gently drop the file to wrap your arms around him in return.

I love you. I'm sorry. All the tension from the afternoon drains away in this hug, in him pressed against you, leaning into you, breathing deep and even and steady. Pressing your face against his shoulder, you give him a brief kiss against his warm, golden skin, and hope he can feel your smile too.

The hug breaks, but still he holds your face for a long moment. He's smiling again. I love you. Thank you. He kisses your cheek quickly.

"I'll catch you at the King's Arms, yeah?"

"'course, Fi," you assure him with a warm smile of your own.

Back in your own dorm, that single moment of warmth unfortunately can't overwrite the entire afternoon of sickly tension. Looking at Oliver's name in your contacts, you frown. You should text him, invite him, Felix told him he would -

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know."

You don't text Oliver.

Annabel also isn't at the King's Arms that night. Of course you know why, the answer sits across from you with his arm around your not-girlfriend, but part of you still kind of feels bad for if the sweet redhead ever finds out.

"What are you sulking about?" Farleigh's smug voice in your ear, Farleigh's arm around your shoulder, Farleigh's cigarettes you keep stealing, Farleigh who you've tucked yourself up against for the night.

"'m not," you try insisting, frowning at the lighter that's clearly out of fluid and refusing to relight your cigarette. He gives your shoulder a squeeze.

"You sure, Peter Pan? Where's your shadow?"

"You don't give a shit about Oliver," you snap a little too quickly, both frustrated by the situation you're trying to ignore, and the useless lighter, but Farleigh reads right through it and practically cackles. Still, he wraps his other arm around you and squeezes you against his side with glee, even as you try to protest.

"Ooh~" Farleigh teases, poking your side with a wide, fond smile, "trouble in pauper's paradise?"

"That's fucking mean," you rib him none too gently, but he actually snorts with laughter. The lighter still won't bloody well start.

"I feel like you're fucking edging me with that lighter, fuck," Benji, from Farleigh's other side, smacks your lighter out of your hands and holds out his perfectly working one.

"Thank you, Benny, that was pissing me off," Farleigh says with a satisfied smile, his laughter having died down. You, finally take a draught on your cigarette, grateful for the warmth, and the nicotine as it hits.

"Could kiss you, Benj," you finally let yourself smile, "someone remind me to get a new lighter," you add, leaning across Farleigh without hesitation to plant a kiss squarely on Benji's lips after he'd wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, teasingly at you at your comment.

"We'd fascinate psychologists," Farleigh chuckled, but his voice is warm and fond, and Benji turns back to his conversation with Alicia and Jake on his other side once the moment had passed.

"Probably," comes out distracted, however as your teasing mood drops and you look to your phone. Should I have called Oliver? But when you look up, across the table, you see warmth and fondness in the way Felix looks at India, enraptured by whatever story she's telling. With one arm around her shoulders, he lets her distractedly play with his other hand, leaning into her, all attention on her. Making her feel like the centre of the universe, the way only Felix knows how to do. India glows in a way you've never seen before, lighting up under his direct affection, beautiful and elated, maybe even a little bit flustered.

There's not even a hint of jealousy at the sight of them. All you know is how much you love your friends, and how happy and beautiful they look together in this moment. There is contentment, satisfaction, like a job well done... Farleigh might have a point about the psychologists.

Speaking of - Farleigh grabs your chin and tilts your face to look at him. Immediately you smack his hand away.

"Stop that! What is that? What are you doing?" You squawk at him immediately. Again, he grabs your chin, frowning, intent upon gazing intensely into your eyes. This time you let him.

"I'm figuring out what this is," he mutters like he's deep in thought. You let your gaze roam for a moment, hoping he gets whatever this is out of his system. You wiggle your chin in his grip, and it's enough to prompt more of an explanation, "if you're not sulking, then I don't know this -" rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away.

"Fuck man, I'm not sulking," you insist, remembering your cigarette and taking another puff, glad it hadn't gone out.

"You've been weird lately; angry - ranting," Farleigh made sure to stick to your cover story despite having seen through it the minute you'd tried out the other week, "you and Felix have had some weird vibes," he takes the cigarette from you, and you settle yourself against him further.

"Fi and I always have weird vibes," you pointed out with a little smirk, keeping your voice as low as he was, glad he didn't feel the need to publicise this discussion too broadly. Farleigh snorted, but shook his head.

"You, sure," Farleigh conceded, handing back the cigarette, "but," he leans in, leans into your with a knowing, dangerously sharp smile, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, "Felix has been weird about you," his voice slides along the word weird as his hand slides up your thigh, as if to prove a point, before sitting back. Giving you a moment to recover, Farleigh sits back up like nothing happened, letting go of your thigh and taking a drink. He gives you a squeeze, arm still around your shoulders, "or hadn't you noticed?" Back at regular conversation levels like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Across the circle of your friend group, Felix's gaze momentarily flicks to you as India's in the middle of some kind of enthusiastically rambling. Gaze briefly passing to Farleigh, he then looks back and raises an amused eyebrow in silent question. The smile you give him is instinctive and warm, a silent answer. He mirrors the smile for the briefest moment before his attention returns to India.

Of course you'd noticed the change.

"Of course I've noticed." Your gaze dips; you become fascinated with your drink for the moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever comment you knew Farleigh had coming.

"Surprised he hadn't put you on a leash."

You elbow him hard in the ribs. He retaliates by flicking you repeatedly in the forehead. Its a blurry mess of frustration and elbows after that, pulling hair and wet fingers in ears and trying to sink nails into each other's soft sides, all squabbling and cursing and insults not made for polite society.

"- you put your fingers near my mouth I'll bite them off!" You holler even when he's got his arm around your neck in a kind of choke hold, which is around the time the two of you are pulled away from each other.

The rest of the table is staring at you both, while you and Farleigh straighten yourselves up, a little flustered at the many incredulous stares you were getting.

"The fuck was that about?" Felix, of course, is the one to voice the question the others all had. You look to Farleigh, his expression mirroring yours; no malice, no frustration, like nothing had happened.

"Bit of horseplay," you shrugged easily, meeting Felix's eyes, tone bright and chipper. He looked unconvinced.

"Just two dudes being guys," Farleigh's tone was light and breezy as he settled back into the booth, and you alongside him, letting him once more sling an arm around your shoulders.

"Guys bein' pals," you agreed with a nod. Farleigh pats your head for emphasis. The group thankfully decides that they've had enough of the weird moment to go back to their own conversations. Felix was the last to focus back on the conversation he'd been having with India and Alicia, narrowing his eyes as he looked between you and Farleigh.

Before turning his attention entirely away, his gaze fixes on you. There, in the very slight tilt of his head, the look in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens, you see his concern for you. You lean your head back on Farleigh's shoulder and let yourself relax, let yourself give him a genuine, reassuring smile. It's enough.

Farleigh clears his throat.

"It was either that or tell him you said that," you explained under your breath, to which Farleigh nodded in understanding, hand running up and down your shoulder idly as he reached across the table for the communal fries, bringing the basket closer to you both.

"And you don't want to tell him because you know I'm right," Farleigh is back to smug, but at least this time you can join him in his amusement.

"No, but I'm humouring you because I'd like to talk about how good I'd look in a collar," picking up a chip, you eat it with a grin as Farleigh rolls his eyes. After a moment, however, he comes back with this contemplative look, still amused, but eyes narrowed and searching like they had been earlier. You eat another chip and tell him to put his eyeballs back in his head, "seriously, quit looking at me like that, Farleigh -"

"He has been weird-weird," Farleigh says like he's agreeing, though you tell him you have no idea what the fuck he means. Taking a deep breath like he was ramping up to something, Farleigh looks across the group to Felix, before looking back at you with a kind of put-upon smile, "I say this only as someone who's know you for like, more of my life than I'd like to admit -"

"I love you too, go on."

"- so I kind of think that it might not look that different to anyone else, like they don't know it's not your usual brand of weirdness," he wets his lips, giving you a look like he's not even sure if he's meant to be saying this, like he might be letting you in on a secret you're not supposed to know, "he's been really hot and cold with you."

Of course you'd noticed.

"I slept with Oliver."

Beside you, Farleigh appears to go through all five stages of grief at once.

"You make it very hard to be friends with you sometimes," he says, shaking his head. You, however, are focusing on how many chips you can eat in a rush rather than think too much about the topic at hand.

"That mean," you tell him flatly, mouth full of potatoes, "you're being mean again."

"You chose to sleep with Oliver, that is a choice you made; I'm gonna be mean about it, you've earned it, you know you have -"

"Remember," you gave him a shit-eating grin, "how the next time we went drinking after that costume party, you spent a full half hour in the beer garden ranting about how stupid you thought Ollie's costume was," you ate another chip while Farleigh narrowed his eyes at you with barely concealed contempt, but you powered on, "and it turned out that you thought the costume didn't do him justice, which then -" your grin grew wider, "became you ranting about how his eyes are too blue, and why does he dress like that when we can all see his arms, imagine if he wore a shirt that fit!" You gleefully recounted, even as Farleigh's mouth flattened into a thin line, like he's bitten on a lemon, but he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Hey, that's not what I -"

"And then -!" You spoke over him, "you forgot where you were and tried to take an angry nap in the bushes."

"I don't -" a flustered Farleigh squirms for a moment in his seat, unable to look at you, "remember that, and," he turned a faux serious look upon you, "if you tell anyone I said that, I'll tell them you're lying."

"I'm just saying," you shrugged, "don't act like you don't know part of the reason why I slept with him."

"Fine," Farleigh rolled his eyes, allowing his flustered frustration to ease. After a moment of contemplation, of watching Felix, he hums quietly, thoughtfully, "that can't be it, right?"

"What can't be it?"

"If Felix was going to start being jealous it wouldn't be over Oliver."

"See, that's what I thought."

"So he is jealous?"

"I don't know," you say quietly, still not quite sure how to feel about it; Felix had taken the news fine when you'd told him, he hadn't seemed any different, but of course there'd been a change. Why now?

"That's really stupid of him," Farleigh finally says, dismissively.

"It is, isn't it?" As you try and laugh, your heart's not in it. You look at your phone again, another wave of that strange discomfort that you'd been feeling lately washing over you again. You can't stay.

Everyone's surprised by your early departure as you say your goodbyes. You cite the need to study hard tomorrow, giving hugs and kisses as you start the short journey back to your dorm. Felix murmurs that he loves you and a cheeky thanks in your ear and you know he's talking about India. You kiss his cheek, and then you head off.

Nothing had seemed off when you'd told Felix.

"You look like you're about to burst into song; what happened to you?"

"Something happened!"

"Am I meant to guess?"

"No, no- I mean, like how nothing happened between me and Ollie a few months ago; something happened!"

"Something happened between you and Ollie?"

"The something that didn't happen last time -"

"I don't remember last time, Y/N, you're being so cryptic, I love that you're excited but -"

"Yes, Ollie and I slept together. Finally!"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"No, good 'oh', promise!"

"Didn't sound like a good 'oh', Fi; is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course, sorry Y/N, I promise, I'm just... I don't remember you being this excited about a hook up... and I don't think I was excepting it to be Ollie, you know? Was he really that good?"

"Let me put it this way, it was the kind of good that none of our other friends would believe if I told them."

"Fancy that, Ollie knows what he's doing; good for you."

"Great for me."

It wasn't particularly vulgar or explicit, you'd had far more in depth conversations about your various hook ups, Felix had seemed as happy for you as he always did with these kinds of stories. But he'd started looking at Oliver different, you'd noticed it. That too is when he became the clingiest. Farleigh was right; on nights out with Oliver around, Felix threw out any pretence of subtlety or person space. Felix acted like your boyfriend.

But then, any other night, any other group situation, it was like any other day. Sometimes he'd barely even glance at you. Hot and cold.

You're so in your head on the walk home that you barely register someone sitting at your door until you all but trip over them.

Annabel.

She'd been crying.

"Fuck you." Is how she greets you.

"What are you doing here?" A twinge of pity, a twinge of guilt, to see her obviously distraught at your doorstep. She gets unsteadily to her feet, swearing at you again. Reaching out to steady her, she surprises you by lunging at you, grabbing you.

"You were there, weren't you? With the rest of them," Annabel's gripping your collar, makeup smeared with tears and eyes red-rimmed, "with him," lips still inches from yours, her gaze unfocused but searching, "I can fucking smell it on you- you- you and rich boy-" but she stops for a moment, expression falling to confusion, "Farleigh?"

"Annabel -" you ease her hands off of your collar, partly confused, but mostly pitying.

"Why do you smell like Farleigh?" She sounds almost like a lost child, refusing to let go of your hand as you pulled out your keys. God she looks so helpless, tears still welling in her eyes, vodka bottle mostly empty by her feet.

"Why are you so good at telling what Farleigh smells like?" You countered with, swinging the door open. At this, some of the righteous indignation fires up in her again, flouncing into your room.

"You all went to the same boarding school, you've all got these same habits, and same but different scents you cling to," she's scowling at your dresser as you picked up the vodka bottle and brought it into your room, shutting your door. You watch her for a long moment, see how she analyses everything you have there, perfumes, colognes, makeup, skin care, little bits of paper rubbish - she picks up a bottle and flicks off the lid, not caring where it landed amongst the rest of the things there. When she sprays it, she seems to almost relax amongst it's mist. Of course. It's Felix's favourite, Felix's scent as she'd so aptly described it, for when he'd spend the night.

"Of course you have his too," she says faintly, almost derisively.

Allowing your attention to finally drift from her, you start getting ready for bed, heading to your closet to hang up your jacket.

"You all need to mark your territory," she spits, out of your peripheries, you see her move away from your dresser and pick up her vodka again, "need everyone to know who you own, who we all belong to -"

"Anna, that's not -" you sighed, unsure of where any of this was going, but not liking it either way. As you search your drawers for pyjamas, you felt her gentle hands on your hips. Jumping at the sudden touch, when you spin she braces herself against the drawers with hands either side of you, while your hands become trapped, the last bit of resistance between her chest and yours.

"I smelled like you both for weeks," she murmurs, gaze roaming your body, almost hungry, landing back on your lips, "you remember that? I should- I should- should have been fucking sickened," she admits, voice a low whisper, the hunger turning needy, turning into almost a whimper, "the things I want you both to do to me make me sick to my stomach," her lips inch closer to yours, shared breath, heat in the air, "of course I know what the fuck you all choose to smell like, I can't get it out of my fucking head," you should lean away but there's something intoxicating about her rage, her desperation, her desire, "Our Annabel, that's what he'd called me, what you'd -" and she kisses you, vodka still wicked and bitter on her tongue, all but panting into your mouth as her hands find your hips again.

But it can't continue, you can't let this go on. As you lean back to free your arms, to hold her back, she takes advantage of the opportunity to slide her hands beneath your shirt, cold and nimble against your belly -

"Could've been my Felix -" she mumbles, as if in a trance, eyes hazy and full of both tears, like she was looking into a memory. The minute her fingers find your fly you grab her hands firmly. It takes you a moment to regain your composure, to remind yourself that she wasn't in her right state of mind, that she probably didn't even know what she was doing or saying -

My Felix flares bright and hot and possessive in your mind. My Felix.

"Ow," Annabel's noise of pain brings you back to reality, but thankfully it seems the shock to her system brought her back too. Looking down at your vice-like grip on her wrists, she looks back at you as you let her go, embarrassment in her eyes as she perhaps realises some of what she'd been doing.

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight, Anna," still, your voice is gentle. She huffs an embarrassed little laugh, starting to sniffle again. Again, you remind yourself that this poor girl just got her heart broken by your best friend, and decided to deal with that by drinking an entire bottle of vodka. You'd committed to showing her some compassion tonight.

"I know." The tension drops, and she just leans her head forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder. You can't help but hug her, feeling the heavy way she sighs as you're giving her a reassuring pat on the back. The two of you stay like that for a very long few minutes until you hear her start crying again.

"Do you wanna borrow some pyjamas?" You ask softly, and feel her nod.

The rest of the night is quiet after that, taking care of this distraught young woman who got her heart broken by your best friend. It reminds you of nights you'd spend with Venetia back at Saltburn.

Annabel sits on your bathroom counter patiently, ankles crossed, watching the way you focus as you wipe off her makeup with meticulous care. When you take off her necklace, you coil it delicately on top of the nice clothes she'd been wearing, now sitting on top of her shoes by your door. At first she tries to wave you off when you offer to brush out her hair -

"There's -" she hiccups; the full bottle of vodka has finally hit her, but still she tries to shake her head, "too much hairspray, it'll be a hassle -"

"I'll be gentle," you told her softly, assurance in your eyes and a warm smile on your lips, "if you'll let me." Annabel melts under that gaze, sitting in borrowed pyjamas, face clean, cross-legged on your bed in the lamp light. You treat her with the gentlest care, brushing out her hair while you can still hear her occasional sniffles; she sits as primly as she's able, only apologising once at the start for it's length. You assured her it's fine.

"You scare me sometimes," Annabel mutters into the quiet, voice watery. For a moment, you pause.

"Me?"

"Both- both of you. You and Felix," she sniffles again, "and Farleigh too now, I guess," you can tell she swallows thickly, voice catching in her throat. When she tries to dip her head, she can feel the way you're still holding gently, still working, and she apologises faintly. Carefully, quietly, giving her space to organise her tipsy, upset thoughts, you continue to brush out her hair.

"Never met anyone like you, you know? Didn't think people like you guys existed. You're always everything; the most without even trying," she takes a deep breath, but it's undercut by a faint sob that's almost a chuckle, "I kind of think you don't even know what I mean- you especially, you know?" You... don't.

You brush, only giving a faint apology, but all she does is fidget, the words spilling unrehearsed from her, things she's clearly been bottling for far too long -

"Felix is everything everyone wants, and you're everything everyone wants him to be," she says it so forlornly, "the sun and it's fucking warmth," then, almost disgusted as she spits it under her breath, "I think about how he's never going to fuck me the way he looks at you while he's shitfaced, how sick is that?"

With a few more strokes her hair is brushed out, and without even thinking you start to braid it. Annabel's dissolved into tears again, her face in her hands, but you're just careful not to tug on her hair too hard as her whole body shakes with them.

"He never gave a proper shit about me, did he?" Annabel sobs as you're tying off the braid. The minute it's done, she turns and throws herself into your arms, sobbing against your chest, "I'm just another fucking girl to him!"

"He still loves you as a friend, I'm sure; you know how Fi is-" you pet her shoulder carefully as she clutches your shirt for dear life.

"I don't wanna be his fucking friend! I gave him my fucking heart and now he's probably got his dick in that slag India, who said she was my friend!" Spitting her words with fury, with venom, she looks up, but only sees a look of pitying apology in your eyes; she's probably right. Lip curling, she throws herself back on your bed, hands covering her face once more, "he doesn't fucking care," she groaned, fury turning poisonous with resignation, "I know he doesn't care; if I thought he truly cared I would have fucked Oliver -"

"What?"

"- Felix is so fucking fickle, god, seems like he doesn't even care about Oliver anymore, I should have- should have -" she continues on, but breaks down crying again. Getting off the bed, you leave for the common room for half a moment, filling it with water.

"Drink this," you instruct, sitting next to Annabel on the edge of the bed. She scowls, but follows your orders easily, even if she can't properly look you in the eye. The water seemed to have at least helped, as her crying quiets down as you refill the glass in your bathroom sink.

"I feel like shit," she mumbles, watching you come back into the room and place the cup on her bedside.

"Well you look pretty," you tell her teasingly, trying to lighten the mood even a little as you gently pinched her cheek. She does not appear to find the humour in the moment. Still, you turn off your lamp and climb over her into the bed, "please don't throw up in my bed or on my floor."

"I know where your bathroom is."

The two of you kick off the neat duvet but pull the thin, luxurious sheet over you both.

"Thank you..." it sounds begrudging as she says it. You tell her it's no stress, sitting up for a moment in order to open your window a crack, let a breeze in overnight, but still hear her when she says, "you're a bad friend."

Still sitting, you take a deep breath, sighing as a silhouette in the moonlight.

Annabel is more astute than you possibly gave her credit for in this state; amongst all her felt injustices, she'd never once asked about how you felt about Felix fucking India, your well established not-girlfriend. Because somehow she knew, perhaps even that you gave your blessing. You'd never been a cruel person as long as you could help it, but you'd made peace with your priorities too long ago to start apologising for them now. So yes, you'd taken Annabel in for the night, but she knew in her heart that you were partially at fault for her despair in the first place. You both knew.

Enabling Felix was never really about making anyone else happy.

"I know."

Something about your admission seems to be enough for Annabel, however. When you lay back down beside her, she curls up against you, tucks herself all along your side, arm around you, head on your chest.

The next morning, Annabel moves silently around your dorm. When you wake up, all that's even left of her presence is the empty cup of water on your bedside. No kind of note, no text, she'd made sure she didn't even wake you before leaving.

Fucking Christ, what a bloody week did yesterday feel like, is all you can think as the mid-morning sun slashes through your barely parted curtains and paints your chest with light.

You consider sleeping in, consider that you'd definitely earned it after yesterday, but then your phone starts ringing. It's Felix. He sounds grim.

"Hey, can you get over here? We need you."

[allbark-no-bite]

december and devotion.

jake seresin x reader (wc. 1.4k)

summary: Jake keeps his promise. or the fic where Jake comes home just in time for Christmas

warnings: none, just fluff

author’s note: just a little short and sweet reunion for you guys before christmas. this can totally be read alone from ‘Marriage and Honor’ but it makes this fic that much better if you read the other one before :)

(read parts one and three here: marriage and honor, cats and christmas)

————————————————————————

You get Jake back exactly eleven months to the day that he deployed. Eleven months since you dropped him off on the carrier and hugged him goodbye. Eleven months since you fell in love and then had to let it go on the same day. Eleven excruciating months of endless emails and long phone calls at any and all hours of the night. 

It didn't matter if it was four am or four pm, you were just happy to hear his voice. It meant that he was conscious and breathing and that meant he was alive. Sometimes the two of you would schedule a time to call when Jake knew he would have a few minutes to spare, and when the call didn't come you would just sit by the phone and wait for hours. You knew that things happened and sometimes Jake just got busy. But that was the thing, things did happen, and so far you were 2-0 for those things playing out in your favor. 

When he did get caught up, Jake was always sure to call you back, even if it was hours later, and he'd poke fun at you for working yourself up so much. 'C'mon baby, it was just a little air strike. Nothing for you to worry about,' he'd tease, both of you choosing to ignore the apprehension in his voice in favor of finding humor in the moment because that meant getting to murmur 'I miss you's and 'I miss you too's for just the few extra seconds that the call allowed. 

The holidays rolling around makes Jake's deployment even more lonely. Despite being much closer to home now that you're living on base, you don't have much family left and Thanksgiving ends up consisting of you and the orange cat that you've still yet to tell Jake about. You're not sure he's going to believe you accidentally adopted a cat, the cat that now sleeps on Jake's side of the bed every night. 

Regardless, having another body in the house makes things a little more bearable as Thanksgiving comes and goes and soon enough it's Christmas time on base. Just when you were starting to think that Jake's deployment was going by quicker than you thought, December hits and the days start crawling by. 

Thankfully for you, Christmas comes early.

December 24th.

Is the text you receive from Jake bright and early one random Monday morning. You hadn't been expecting to hear from him for another few days, and when you see his name pop up on your screen, your stomach drops. But as soon as you read his message, you know exactly what it means. 

Jake was coming home for Christmas. 

The port is more crowded and even colder than what you expected it to be at six am on Christmas Eve. It's full of families and children bundled in various layers of scarves and coats, holding signs and cards, anxiously waiting to welcome their service member back home. The atmosphere is incomparable to anything that you've ever experienced. It's full of hope, and happiness, and maybe even a little heartbreak.

You’re feeling a little bit of all three yourself. It's been in the back of your mind that despite having had two brothers in the Navy, you've never gotten to do this. You've never gotten the chance to welcome anyone back home. 

The sound of a horn blowing pulls you from your thoughts. 

Shouts of celebration erupt and children break out into runs, screaming with excitement, and you watch as soldiers begin pouring out from the entrance of the ship, a sea of white amidst the crowd. You linger behind as families around you reunite, feeling a bit lost having come by yourself. You watch as returning fathers gleefully scoop up their children and proud fathers tearily welcome home their daughters. 

Walking a bit closer to the ship, you glance around you in hopes of spotting a familiar face. You catch sight of Javy and his family a bit off to your right, and he waves to you with a quick smile but offers no indication of where Jake might be. You walk a little further, passing almost every member of the Dagger squad, until you finally come to a stop back in the middle of the crowd. With so many people all around you, you begin to wonder how you're ever going to find Jake.

"Looking for someone?"

It's the same voice that you've been straining to hear over some crappy military base service line for months. Only this time it's ten feet away and not across the world. 

You spin on your heels, bolting into Jake's arms quicker than you've probably ever moved in your entire life. You don't even take the time to take him in before you're burrowing your face into the crook of his neck, your body clinging to his like he's going to disappear at any given second. Jake has to drop his bag to catch you, wrapping both arms around your waist and shuffling backwards a few steps so that he doesn't lose his balance. His skin is warm despite the chill outside and you revel in the press of his cheek to your own, your cold nose nuzzled into his ear.

Jake holds you for god knows how long, his body swaying occasionally with yours in the embrace. Eventually you loosen your grip around his neck, as much as it pains you to do so, but you want to see his face so you pull away, your hand moving to either side of his face to get a good look at him.

Jake's green eyes shine at you in what you can only describe as pure adoration. He looks a bit tired, maybe even a bit older than he did when he left, but he's still the Jake you said goodbye to all those months ago. The lines by his eyes still crinkle when he smiles and his cheeks dimple right along with them. 

Jake says nothing as you examine him, just smiles at you warmly and allows you this moment to yourself. He'll have plenty of time to kiss you later.

His hair is much shorter than what you're used to, almost certainly to adhere to military regulations, and your fingers scratch at his scalp in a moment of wistful melancholy. "Your hair," is all you can say, fond tears threatening to spill over your eyes. 

A laugh rumbles from his chest and his eyes crinkle as he takes your hand in his own. "It's gonna grow back in no time, baby. I promise." 

You're not genuinely sad about his hair and he knows this, it's just that there so much to say after eleven months of being apart and not enough time in the moment to say it. 

So instead of trying to find the words, Jake just squeezes your body against his once more before setting you down to grab his duffle bag. He keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, the other bearing the load of his over stuffed duffle. As happy as he is to has his girl back in his arms, all he wants is to go home and have you to himself. And maybe get some sleep. "C'mon, kid. Let's get you home. It's too cold for you to be standin' out here."

Only when he starts walking away, you don't budge. Your feet are planted into the ground and he ends up a few steps ahead of you once he looks back. Jake turns around, duffle bag in one hand and the other held out to you in question. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now. I've only been back for about five minutes," he laughs. He's mostly teasing, but you pick up on the faintest hint of hesitation in his voice. 

You cross your arms, trying to keep yourself from smiling. "You're forgetting something."

A look of confusion crosses his face before his brows lift and his smile returns. Chuckling, Jake drops his duffle and walks back towards you, taking your face inbetween his hands like you had held his a few moments ago. He can't help the massive grin on his face as he leans into kiss you. 

Your cheeks are flushed and cold but they heat right back up as his mouth captures yours. His lips are soft against yours but the kiss is firm and sure—tender but packed with all of the longing that cannot be expressed with words. You immediately miss the warmth of Jake's lips when he pulls away.

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs, so close that he may as well have been speaking it into the kiss. 

"Merry Christmas," you murmur back, smiling back against his mouth as you lean in to kiss him again.

[tswaney17]

Shadow Puppets

For the amazing @leiaamidala!! I'm your Secret Santa this year, and I hope you love cheesy, Elriel fluff! Thank you for being such an amazing person and a wonderful friend. I wish you a year full of happiness and cheer (and confirmation 😘)!! ❄🎄

This fic is based on the artwork linked here.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: minor language. Mostly tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 1,136

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read here.

Azriel shadow-walked them to the front door of their home from the River Manor. Typically, he preferred to fly. But with Elain two months from giving birth to the twins, and their adopted Illyrian son, flying became too much of a challenge to do so safely. Especially since Kaden was still learning how to properly fly, having not been taught before he was left at the orphanage, nor during his time spent there.

It was something Azriel could relate to more so than anyone else. That fear of flying becomes ingrained into your mind without realizing it until you’re standing on the edge of a cliff with a looming drop before you.

Kaden had tremendously improved since they began their flying lessons, but he still struggled to maintain himself if caught in a wind draft and Azriel preferred not to have his pregnant wife in his arms should he need to save his son.

So, when it was the three of them—soon to be five, gods spare him—he preferred the easier method of transportation. He still couldn’t believe they were going to be a family of five soon. He didn’t know what he did to be blessed with such a beautiful wife and the most perfect children. Lord knows he had done atrocities for the sake of his court. But somehow, through all the darkness surrounding him, Elain saw the light he never knew was shining inside of him.

A soul to match hers.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved these fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

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Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[firebug-mother-nicknamed-me-this]

✨️Welcome to my Grian HeadCannon rant✨️

Hi, so I'm writing this on my phone while watching Hermitcraft. Lol. These are thoughts that have been bouncing around my head for a while.

-Grian's wings-

I think they shapshift. Think about it. We, the audience and the artists, are constantly making different variations of Grian. Either through the art itself or through headcannons. "Cannon" wise, we are the Watchers, and We gave Grian his wings.

There's Parrot Grian, which is pretty much default Grian at this point. Then there's white winged Grian, which could either be a dove or a chicken. Theres the desert birb Grian because of Life series Desert-Duo. There's the recent King Fisher Grian because of his fishing addiction this season. Then there's his Watcher form, which usually ends up being biblical accurate angel. Which I think the multiple wings are the different kinds of bird avian hybrid We make Grian into. (This will probably be the only "original" thought that's been going through my head. The rest of this is me compiling HCs I've heard/seen/watched and have been brimming full to talk and analyze, tho the analyzing will probably be a different post lol)

-Grian's Family-

There's a lot of HCs when it comes to family connects to Grian. There's YHS background that left him as an abandoned kid in Japan. Nadia225 gave Grian adopted Mafia parents, which is really cool, and you should watch their videos because they're really talented. And they gave Grian Bio-parents where one is a Water and the other is a Listener. And they're royalty. There's HCs of him being adopted by Philza (which honestly makes no sense to me because I think Grian is older than Philza. Character wise too.) And then He gets adopted by Xisuma. So parental figure-wise, there are a few to choose from.

Sibling wise... that's even bigger. There's the classic Jimmy and Pearl. There was one of Scar and Pearl being sibs to Grian. (The sibling dance animation that I can't remember the youtubers name to credit) There's Etho, through choice, with Nadia225 (or that's how I've interpreted their interactions lol). And then there's Martyn who gets thrown in, too. (But this just might be me.) Back to parent Philza, Grian gains Wilbur, Techno, Tommy, and occasionally Tubbo as younger brothers. I guess We see Grian as a big Family dude. (^○^)

Extended family tho... I have yet to see anything about aunts and uncles, not even grandparents, and my brain isn't coming up with anything.

Parent Grian always ends up adopting Tommy, but I think I've seen at least 2 fanfics where it was Tubbo instead.

-Watcher Relationships-

It's so weird. Like. Do We have a Feral Sibling relationship with Grian. Or are We mortal enemies. Is he traumatized by Us, or has he fully accepted being a Watcher. Like, I love the angst fics as much as the next Watcher, BUT PLEASE, I NEED MORE POSITIVE INTERACTIONS BETWEEN US, would love any fic recs anyone has, lol.

-Martyns cannon-

I still need to actually research this one, but at the end of Evo (Grian pov) it is /heavily/ implied that Grian joins the Watchers, seemingly by choice. Then I moved on to hermitcraft 6-9 and binge watched that. So if there's any Martyn Cannon that can be added on plus his "headcannons" feel free to do so!

Other Hermit HCs on the way. :]

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 20

welcome to the twentieth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics. 

1. for we are the beautiful thieves by @caimani-ao3

Keith and Lance go undercover (sort of) at General Iverson's gala to steal back an Altean artifact the general stole while treasure-hunting. Keith's job? Sneaking away in the middle of the party to find the artifact. Lance's job? Looking pretty in a dress.

love love LOVE adventure fics this shit ROCKS. voltron?? thief archeologists whose main goal is to steal artefacts from rich asshole collectors and return them to where they came from?? iconique!! klance playing the pretty distrction?? iconique moreso!! 

2. ring my bell by @dumdum692 [EXPLICIT]

And granted, Keith has always been a sore spot for him in this way; Lance has always felt at odds with his domesticated temperament, and Keith holds absolutely none of that. Keith doesn't give two whopping shits about getting pimples, or if Stacy in English class thinks he has bad breath. Keith isn't standing zombie-eyed in the purple lights of a party, plotting woe-is-me narratives of his own melancholia and loneliness, gazing detachedly into a red Solo cup full of jungle juice - he just is, and that's always made Lance, in equal parts, devastatingly embarrassed and devastatingly horny.

Sadly, this scale weights significantly more towards the horny end as of late, because Keith is developing quite a few, very distinctly Galra characteristics, and it's driving Lance absolutely buck fucking nuts.

______________________________________________

Keith goes through puberty. Devastation ensues.

this fic is a proud truther of two important things: a) lance’s type is literally anyone who can kick his ass and look good doing it, and b) lance has a big vocabulary entirely so he can be as melodramatic as possible whenever he so pleases. and i for one am thankful for its service.

3. Cross My Path by @wittyy-name [EXPLICIT]

Lance owns a witch themed cat cafe that rescues black cats. Each one has a unique collar and color coded name to help tell them apart. He's not supposed to play favorites, but he's already adopted his favorite, Red, as his own. Cold and distant to everyone, Red is extremely affectionate to Lance. Needy. Clingy. Protective. But Lance doesn't mind. He makes Lance's home a little less lonely. He's a little weird, but aren't all cats? He loves his baby boy, and he's eternally grateful for the day that little black fluff ball crossed his path.

Lance doesn't think twice about Red's odd quirks. That is, until he wakes up with a naked stranger in his bed.

And hey! Turns out Red is actually a witch named Keith who's been cursed to be a cat for twenty years. A really hot witch who's still very affectionate towards Lance.

any fic that’s tagged with catboy keith is a winner in my book tbh. and this fic is AMAZING the entire concept is unbelievably cool and the storyline is adorable!! also healthy relationship boundaries and expectations for the win!! plus rough sex also!!

4. know by petalloso

Keith couldn’t feel his legs. Upon further realization, he couldn’t feel his arms either, or his hands. He could, however, feel Lance’s hands, and they were all over him, running up and down his chest in inspection, tilting his chin this way and that, pulling him up from the floor where he figured he’d landed probably because his knees had just given out on him.

“Stupid,” he heard Lance say. “You blew out your legs.”

those 2016 fics man!! they never miss they just dont!! insane to me that this author apologises for being ooc as if their portrayal of keith is not the most in character portrayal possibly ever lol. AND this fic has oldest child lance my beloved

5. stud by petalloso

“Ow.”

Keith stops in his tracks, listening. The voice comes again, louder and more elongated this time, muffled behind the door.

“Ouch,” it says, and then, “shit shit shit.”

lance IS the type of impulsive dumbass to pierce is own ears, and i thank this writer greatly for pointing that out. this fic is cute and sweet and silly which are my three for three basically

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!  

[elvisabutler]

we'll kiss just as before

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x female reader word count: 1839 warnings: rutting against beds. dry humping so to speak. coming on thighs. breastfeeding kink. light sub elvis. light mommy kink. light dom reader. elvis is a selkie. bit of fingering kind of. use of the words mama. tiny bit of aftercare. brief mention of a rough pregnancy. author’s note: welcome to day 13 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, breastfeeding kink with selkie elvis presley x reader. fun time for context author's note. this takes place in an alternate 1978 where elvis is living his life with his wife, lisa and his now two sons. truth be told anything i write for this series of fics probably will always live in this au ending to elvis's life. probably dying maybe in the 90s/00s. in case anyone ever wants to request more from them even if it's fluff. i was supposed to write a piece before this that explains jesse's origins but time's gotten away from me lately so consider this me doing my normal shenanigan of writing out of order. also if you have no idea what this series/verse is, the masterlist is right here. beyond that long winded author’s note, special thanks to @stylespresleyhearted, @ab4eva and @prompted-wordsmith for being seal!!! at me always. also once again, i really do love how y'all liked this and received it and live to see your thoughts on my writing. and yes i did post these within an hour-ish of each other. because this has been finished for a while. also. divider by @/cafekitsune over here on tumblr.

In the time you've known Elvis— in that small window of his life— you've known him to be an insatiable sort of man. Not gluttonous, though he can err that way, but a man who allows himself to live life with an intensity that makes you proud to call him your husband. On bad nights you wonder what would have happened if your paths had never crossed again because of his skin or if they had never crossed when Anita had broken up with him. Those nights are few and far between though, soothed away with a stepdaughter who you adore, a son you carried in your belly for nine excruciatingly long months and a little baby boy adopted by a selkie who took one look at a little baby seal and told you that he was your son— told you it was God's way of providing the two of you with another child without the risk of your health. It's a blessing John was still young enough to be suckling at your breasts when you adopted Jesse. It's a blessing that at the young baby's cries your breasts rose to the occasion, swelling up like they did when John was a newborn, leaking at inopportune times and causing Elvis to laugh in sheer delight that his wife— his perfect seal wife— had so much milk within her breasts that it came out even when no one was there to catch it but him.

No, you've always known that Elvis is an insatiable sort of man, and nights like this remind you of it as you climb into bed, taking in the sight of him naked as the day he was born, glasses perched on his nose as he reads quietly. Your eyes roam over his body, watching his rounded stomach rise and fall, wetness from sweat or perhaps a shower causing the hair on it to stick to him reminding you that despite being a seal he's practically a bear when it comes to the hair on his chest and belly. You feel yourself clenching around nothing the longer you stare and yet you don't speak, don't put into words your thoughts even as Elvis starts to shut his book and glances over at you, eyes zeroing in on your breasts.

"They're still lookin' full," he murmurs, moving to set his book on the nightstand next to him. "He ain't eaten?"

Your hands move to take off his glasses as you shrug, hissing slightly as Elvis moves his hand against the fuller of your two breasts. "No, he's eating, but— not enough tonight. He's full, but so are they."

There's a question in the words you speak, a request for Elvis if he's willing to grant you it, but you hate the mere idea of asking for it. Sure, Elvis has done it for you before but— only when it's started to leak on his chest when you're pressed against him or when it's started to make a mess of the bed. Asking him outright tonight feels wrong and you feel a hint of embarrassment despite everything go through you. As if Elvis can sense it, his hand that isn't on your breast moves to cup your chin. "Darlin'. They ache, don't they?"

The answering nod you give him is slow and controlled before you exhale quietly. "They're gonna be hard as rocks before he wakes up again."

"You need more out of 'em, don't ya? Make it so it doesn't hurt so much in all that time." He says it as a question but you and him both know it's more of a statement than anything else. "I ain't gonna mind."

If you ask him to do it. You know that's what he's telling you and yet you can't help the way you bite at your lip and watch as his thumb brushes over your exposed nipple, a bit of milk dribbling out as he does. Without missing a beat he puts his thumb in his mouth and sucks it, his tongue swirling around the digit as he stares you down, blue eyes somehow containing every bit of the depths of the ocean in them. He's your husband, this is— this is what your insatiable husband is willing to do for you and you've been looking the gift horse in the mouth. After a moment, one of your hands moves to cup the underside of the breast his hand had been on as you speak.

"Can you please? Mama's— Mama's got all this milk and I can't— I can't sleep with them aching like this."

It's as if you've granted the man salvation when he looks at you through eyelashes that have charmed so many women. He hadn't planned sucking on your breasts tonight, truthfully but it was always a gift when he could. You've taken care of him since that fluke meeting when you didn't even know who he was. When you thought he was just a seal that gotten a handkerchief tied around him. With this act of allowing him to drink from your breasts he could take care of you and indulge in something that helped him sleep better than any pill ever had. You could take care of him just by letting him have the simple pleasure of sucking at your breasts. It's different than when he does it when you're not nursing, but even so there's an element that's the same. There's that element that has you squirming and clenching your thighs as he drinks milk that he shouldn't want.

He places his hand over yours, the warmth of it inadvertently making you shiver and causing your nipple to harden and you hear the shaky breath he takes as he just stares at it. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he shifts in the bed and places your nipple in his mouth.

"El— Elvis," you stammer out his name as his tongue runs across your nipple, teasing and only gathering the faintest of drops before he forms that little bit of suction with his lips. His suckling is gentle, knowing that he barely needs to pull for his little treat. Your relief is almost immediate though, your shoulders relaxing as you lean back against the pillows, hearing the soft sounds of his sucking and the sound of him swallowing every so often.

Sometimes you watch him when he sucks at you, cradling his head like a child. Those nights are the nights this action is purely for comfort and for the intimacy of being with one another without any of the children. Those nights are special and remind you that it's a bit of a fluke that you're a part of his life. They remind him how you're the perfect seal wife and how you came into his life at just the right time. The first time you met hadn't been perfect, hadn't been right, but the second time, this time was.

Nights like this though? Nights like this you find yourself with your head leaning back against the pillows, soft pants leaving your lips as your fingers thread through his hair and pull every so often. You've been aching in more than one way for Elvis and it shows in how after just a minute your thighs are clenched as you try and shift, only to be stopped by his chest and torso pinning you down with his bulk. You open your mouth to speak, to tell Elvis to pull away from the breast he's suckling on only to realize he's rutting against the bed. You hadn't known he needed this too. You hadn't known that you both had been craving this way of being together for what feels like forever even though it had only been a week.

A groan or a growl rumbles deep within Elvis's chest and you mirror it with a gasp as starts to suck harder, adding enough pressure that you can feel the throbbing in between your legs. Touching you would be ideal, feeling the calloused tips of his fingers against your clit would be ideal. Anything but a lack of touch would be ideal and yet you feel your arousal starting to ruin the panties you wear to bed. Words dance on your lips even as you tighten your grip on Elvis's hair, pulling him off your nipple with a small pop noise. Looking up at you with dilated pupils he uses his strength to pull his head back down to attack your other nipple. A whine leaves your lips unbidden as a fresh wave of desire courses through you and has you clenching around nothing and thrusting against his torso. Yet he doesn't stop, his lips still stay around your nipple, filling his mouth with your milk even as you look down and see some spilling from the sides of his mouth.

The look he wears is ravenous and you find yourself starting to thrust and move your hips to get any sort of friction. A whimper leaves your lips. "Please."

The sensation of Elvis's lips curling around your nipple into a smirk should have you pulling him off once again and yet you find that you just thrust once more. All that matters is chasing the high Elvis has started to bring you and somehow as your hand yanks at his hair again he finally takes pity on you. He doesn't bother to take off your panties, though, no, he merely takes one more final suck from your breast and shifts to allow himself to pin you down. The air feels as if it's been sucked out of your lungs when his lips meet yours, the sweetness of rogue breastmilk drops falling on your lips. Elvis is rutting against you, not bothering to enter you but the friction is enough, the feel of his bare cock brushing against your clothed vagina has your toes curling. One of your hands moves to his behind and as your release finally comes you grab his ass and squeeze, puling him in closer. His own release follows shortly after, painting your thighs with his cum. Flopping against you he takes deep breaths for a few minutes before finally speaking.

"Didn't— Didn't know ya needed me that bad," he jokes before nuzzling at you. "Didn't know ya needed that so bad."

Your words come out a little slurred as you feel your body starting to drift off to sleep. "Neither did I. Just— We needed that." Your tone, despite the slurred words leaves no room for argument. "Clean then sleep?"

Clean both of you off, then come to bed is what you mean but you know your little seal can translate from the way he moves to get off of you. He walks slowly to the bathroom and in the doorway of that room he looks back at you. You've already fallen asleep and it warms something inside of him to see you finally allowing yourself to relax.

"That's it, darlin', get you some rest."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust, @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08. if you weren't tagged it's not a slight. it's literally me copy and pasting from old tag lists.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

new sea glass gardens fan here! ✋🏻 happy to see such so much ask activity but i cant really go thru them all.

SO

what is one thing thats not in the fic but related to the universe that you would like ur readers to know?

Welcome!!

It’s that we won’t get to season 1 but if we did yuuji would be violently jealous of yuuta, who is living his best life and is obviously gods perfect man who has somehow locked down fushiguro megumi as his boy.

Probably just how badly it went when megumi was a kid.

There’s been a lot of asks about what happened when the zenin had shared custody. Most of what happened is never making it into sea glass gardens, because I don’t think it would ever come out in yuuta’s pov. I do have one shots from Megumi’s perspective and Gojo’s perspective that I’ve half written that may go up one day, but for right now, it’s a lot of backstory that you won’t ever get from sea glass itself.

If you don’t want to pick through a million asks, here’s a loose outline of what happened:

Gojo found Megumi and decided to adopt him. He then immediately decided he was in over his head and that he would be dragging Nanami and Shoko in with him. It takes a village and he’ll conscript one of his own.

Nanami and Shoko asked him “where the fuck did you get children” and he Did Not Answer That Question

During this time, Gojo, Nanami, and Shoko were sort of falling apart. They were all grieving. Everyone was completely overworked. Nanami had one foot out the door and wasn’t even hiding it. He was isolating himself and blatantly about to leave them all and not leave a number to reach him at. Shoko was abusing alcohol and cigarettes. Gojo was constantly in missions. They were all on the brink of losing each other for good when gojo brought megumi and tsumiki home.

Then he told the Zenin that he has discovered the magic of teenaged fatherhood with Zenin Toji’s kid and would be keeping him, xoxoxo. Hugs and kisses, peace and love, would not be giving this funky little dude back.

The Zenin replied “fuck you, thats our blood, give him back” and Gojo replied “fuck you, I called dibs.” Which the Zenin Did Not Like.

But the thing is that none of the Zenin knew that Megumi had the Ten Shadows yet, and the Zenin knew that if they went to war with Gojo, they’d lose. And they did not want to fucking admit that one member of the Gojo clan could kick all their asses at once, especially over the son of the Zenin clan’s biggest failure, especially when that guy just fucked them all over by killing the star plasma vessel. To save face, they decided to let Gojo keep him and called it a peace offering between their clans… then turned around and spread rumors about how Gojo just liked little kids and that’s why he wanted Zenin Toji’s son.

There’s a roughly nine months period after that where everyone was genuinely happy. Like, it was far from perfect, but they were finally healing a little? They were finally a real group again. They were all simply enchanted with Megumi and Tsumiki. They were happy. They felt like they could really, really be a family one day.

Then the Zenin found out Megumi had the ten shadows.

Cue the most aggressive custody battle of all time. The Zenin wanted full and unconditional custody of Megumi. They wanted Gojo to never have contact with him again. They did not want Tsumiki. Megumi would be theirs and he was never to be allowed contact with his sister or anyone from their group again.

At this point, the higher ups were mostly content to let them duke it out privately. They thought Gojo would lose, is the thing. He was committing the ultimate taboo by taking the ten shadows from the Zenin. They figured he’d eventually cave after he burned up all his good will and he’d be easier to control after this.

Instead it got to the point where Gojo said “actually, fuck this,” and just fucking. Quit. So did Nanami and Shoko. They formed a union and took the kids with them. The Zenin had decided that taking Megumi was an act of war they would answer in kind. It was either kill the entire Zenin clan or fuck off with their family and they chose the latter.

Megumi and Tsumiki think they were just on vacation but actually the custody dispute had escalated to the point of physical violence and the Teen Parenting Trio were hiding out with them to keep them safe.

This made the higher ups freak out, because all of a sudden, they had lost their only working special grade curse user and their only healer. They put pressure on Yaga to fix it.

Yaga was the one who brokered the custody agreement.

He convinced Gojo that what was best for Megumi and for everyone was to negotiate with the Zenin. The Zenin would have partial custody, and Gojo would have him the rest of the time. Megumi would get training in his technique from the people with the best knowledge of it, the Zenin would get time with the Ten Shadows, and they’d avoid war. Yaga thought it was the best deal they’d get.

This is when it all goes to shit.

The Zenin start abusing Megumi. They wouldn’t call it abuse if you asked them, but it was. They forced him to train constantly. No one would call him by his actual name no matter how much he begged. The bit where Megumi was forcibly bathed in sgg? It was an everyday thing when he was a kid. Every single aspect of his life was controlled when he was on the compound, down to what he wore and how his hair was styled. He was getting beaten pretty badly on the daily. The Zenin consider learning how to manage pain a part of training, and Megumi was not exempt from that. He was their heir. He was meant to withstand the most intense training without complaint.

Zenin Naoya was made one of his primary trainers, and he did purposefully abuse Megumi. Everyone else was obsessed with Megumi, only cared about the idea of him, and discarded anything that didnt fit their image about who they wanted him to be. But Naoya hated him. He saw Megumi as usurping his place in the clan. He liked hurting him. He beat him as often as he could.

Megumi starts acting out at home because of how bad things are with the Zenin. He gets in more and more fights at school and shuts down constantly. He's hurting and it's making him struggle, hard.

Eventually, Megumi goes to Gojo and begs him to stop making him go back to the Zenin Compound.

Gojo doesn't save him.

When they come back and make the custody deal, the higher ups basically go after the Teen Parenting Trio with everything they've got. The thing is that they almost lost some of their most valuable members of their society. They realized that they needed new ways to control them. So they introduced Shoko to harder drugs and got her addicted. They worked Gojo constantly. They isolated Nanami. When Megumi goes to Gojo, Gojo's at the absolute end of his rope, fully exhausted, and cannot take a single thing more.

He's also biased out of his mind as to what he thinks is going on. See, he thinks Megumi is being treated how Gojo was treated when he was a kid, which is like a little prince. The issue he's worried about is Megumi being pampered and put on a pedestal to the point it becomes dehumanizing. He's working double time to make sure that the rest of the time, Megumi gets to be a kid the way he didn't get to be growing up. But he never in a million years thought that the Zenin would ever lay a hand on the Ten Shadows, because the Gojo never in a million years would have laid a hand on their Six Eyes.

The other thing is that he sort of just. Thought he knew what was going on? Megumi had been pissed he had to be separated from his sister from the start. He had started to fight incessantly at school (because he was being abused and lashing out), and the Zenin were explaining away his bruises by saying he was starting fights with the other children. It fully fit with his behavior, in their mind. They blamed Maki more than once for his bruises, ironically enough. They said she was jealous of his technique.

Megumi was itty bitty and so fucking hurt, and he sort of stumbles through asking for help, and a lot is lost in communication. Gojo thinks he's just sick of going back there because his family's fucking weird and treats him like he's magic Jesus and he wants to be with his sister full time again. He also thinks that the only options are keeping this going or killing all the Zenin, because that's what Yaga told him. As much as he fucking hates it, he'd rather Megumi put up with spending two days a month with some fucking weirdos over murdering an entire clan or giving up custody entirely. So he basically cuts Megumi off and tells him that they have to make this work if he wants to stay with his sister the rest of the time.

Megumi now thinks that his family knows about the abuse and that they'll take away his sister if he doesn't just shut up and take it.

Megumi gets more hopeless and desperate, but he doesn't ask for help again. He thinks they already know. And he's not going to beg someone to help who never will. The abuse gets worse.

The Zenin start pushing their luck. They don't want partial custody--they want full custody. They start refusing to turn Megumi over to them unless Gojo personally comes to retrieve him, because Gojo's the only one who can actually make them turn him over. Megumi thinks his family is just fucking abandoning to his abusers and becomes more despondent in his situation. It doesn't help that the Zenin are telling him that he's staying later than he has to because his family didn't care enough to come get him.

Nanami gets increasingly frustrated with the situation because he keeps showing up to pick up Megumi at the very first second he can, and the Zenin keep turning him away at the door, and he keeps having to call Gojo in only for them to suddenly cooperate without complaint. He feels useless and angry.

Gojo feels frustrated because he's got every single second of the day scheduled with missions, and he's having to leave them to knock on the door of the Zenin compound and walk Megumi to Nanami's car. During all of this, Shoko has been escalating her drug use due to the higher ups pressure, and it's starting to show, but she refuses to get clean because she can just heal any damage the drugs do to her. Their previously happy family dynamic starts breaking.

Eventually, the situation at the Zenin compound hits its breaking point. If you're interested in what makes the situation hit a new extreme, the post is here, but I'll refrain from saying it here in case anyone wants to wait and see if I'll post the one shots and have it be revealed in-universe.

Naoya almost kills Megumi that time around, and they're all so emboldened by the liberties they've been taking with the custody agreement that they don't even try to hide it this time. They don't think Gojo actually loves Megumi, is the thing. They think Megumi is just a pawn to him, and that he won't care if they hurt him.

Nanami is the one that finds Megumi like that, and it fucking destroys him. He is never able to forget what Megumi looked like then. He carried him to the car, held him the entire time that Ijichi gunned it back to the school, rushed him to Shoko for treatment, and has never been able to forget what it felt like to hold him and not know if he'd survive the drive. He has never been able to forget it.

Anyway, he went back to kick Naoya's fucking ass.

Gojo showed up halfway through their throw down, drag out fight, so furious the ground shook with it. That's the part that Maki remembers of what happened. He told them that it was over, that they'd never be allowed near Megumi again, and he kept his word.

Yaga tried to talk them out of it. It's not that he wanted Megumi to be hurt. He just genuinely thought they didn't have any other options. He didn't think they could actually take the Ten Shadows from the Zenin. He thought the best they could do would be to try to force them into a binding vow not to hurt him. He told them they had to give Megumi back to the Zenin.

The Teen Parenting Trio cut him out of raising the kids completely after that. It broke their trust in him. They no longer thought he'd actually protect them.

Nanami broke down. He couldn't do it anymore. It was Haibara all over again. He told Gojo he was done, that he couldn't do it anymore. He wanted equal custody of the kids. They could work out a schedule. But he couldn't do this anymore.

Gojo realized that Megumi thought that he knew the entire time, and swore up and down that he'd never compromise on his or Tsumiki's wellbeing again. Their family was never the same, and it sort of haunts Gojo as to what they could have been. He always wonders if they could have had something closer if he had just refused to let the Zenin near his kid.

These events are in greater detail in the asks, but that's the general backstory underlying the events right now.

[atiny-piratequeen]

*cracks knuckles* Okay, here we go!

I am opening commissions for June/July!

Most of my usual Commission Rules apply, however, for this round, I will be accepting 3-4 at this time, and I will only be accepting full payments at this time. Please be aware these slots are for JUNE/JULY. If you are not okay with waiting for them to be posted, or pay in full for them, I don't think I will be able to accept them this time around.

Info under the cut

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬-(All Prices are in USD and payment will be collected either via Paypal or Kofi if PP is not available to the commissioner. Commissioners are responsible for conversions)

Timestamps/Drabbles (Below 1k): $5USD

1k-$10USD

2K-$20USD

3K-$30 USD

Etc…

꧁ Works over 5k will have an additional $5 dollars added onto the total and need to give me at least a month’s time to complete, works over 10k will be an additional $10

꧁ In the event that I cannot reach your desired minimum WC (i.e, i fall just short of 2k, etc), you’ll only have to pay up to the % of the wc I fell short of. (ex, if a comm is 2k but I reach 1.5k, the price would be $15 and the $5 will be refunded.) The same applies if I happen to write over how much you paid for, you do not have to pay for the extra words. 

꧁ All commissions from any of my personal series (for example, if you’d like to buy a commission for something in AtT’s Verse, Ataraxia Verse, or Night Shift’s verse), recieve a 10% discount (drabbles and timestamps excluded)

-Do note that any comms in established universes are n o n canon events and unless discussed/agreed upon by me, do not expect a comm to be canon in my series past the confines of said commission

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞

-Most Genres (Fluff, Romance, Angst, etc)

-Smut (Commissioner must be 18 or older, absolutely no exceptions. Ever)

-Crossover Fandom Ships (You can inquire in dms which other bands I stan and I’ll let you know if I know them well enough to write the work being commissioned)

-MxM Fics 

-MxR Fics (feel free to let me know in the inquiry what the reader’s gender identity is and if there is any other personalized things you’d like for the work)

-Etc (Please check the works I have posted across this account and my other accounts for a general idea of the content I have written before and feel comfortable writing)

-**New** Anime/Video Game Fics, as long as I am familiar with the source material

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞

-Underaged Smut (No underaged idols, no underaged reader scenerios, absolutely no nsfw smut commissions to be accepted at all. Anyone who even inquires about underaged smut will be promptly blocked :) )--In the event of Anime Reqs, all characters will be 18+ regardless of canon

-Rape/Dub-Con/ “CNC” 

-Yandere Works in any capacity

-Works with a biggoted message (homophobia, transphobia, racism)

-Incest (Yes this inculdes adopted and step siblings/families)

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨

Anyone who’d like to commission me is welcome to inquire in my dms. Please keep your DMs open so we may maintain an easy two-way communication during the commission process. I am also open to using Discord as a means of communication.

 I will NOT be taking commissions through my ask box at all, if you are not comfortable with messaging me through dms or on discord, I will not be taking your comission. My ask boxes are not appropriate places to be exchanging payment information. 

Again, I do not accept nsfw commissions from minors (those under 18), please respect this and failure to do so will result in you being blocked. 

Once I talk with you on what you’d like to commission, I will send you my PayPal and I can begin as soon as I receive the payment.

Please allow two weeks minimum for commissions once the initial payment agreement is reached, as I also work outside of this and have other works to do alongside your commissioned work. 

Works 3k+ will require a minimum of 3 weeks to a month, and I will message you with updates along the way.

As the creator, I reserve the right to decline any commission request handed to me. Please be respectful in the event that I turn down your commission request, I am open to alterations to requests so that it may be more comfortable, but if I cannot write the work comfortably, it will be denied. 

All of these works, though commissioned, are still under my copyright, so reposting is absolutely not allowed. The works will be posted both here and ao3, but I still will not allow it to be reposted to other sites/accounts that are not my own

Works that are Ateez focused will be posted @atiny-piratequeen

Any non atz works will be on my multi blog @nocturne-overtures

Anime/Video Game works will be posted on @sin-hashira (Blog under construction)

Thank you so much for reading through. As per usual, reblogs are welcome always and I hope you all have a lovely day/night!

[free-for-all-fics]

Crossover Fic ideas between Dominic Craven from The Dare and John from He’s Out There! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these ideas and I’d love to read it! I just think a crossover between these two men would be so cool since their masks/character design, personalities, and movie settings are all pretty similar in my opinion! 🪵🤎🪓

I’m not sure what the plot would be exactly. It could be romantic where both of these masked men are in love with you and maybe a little obsessed. They might spend days or weeks stalking you from the woods, building up to them inevitably kidnapping you. They might leave non-poisoned cupcakes and other gifts for you in the woods to find. If you take any of their gifts home, it means you love them back! If you ignore their gifts, it just means they have to try harder at earning your love! Are you long lost childhood friends reunited? Their teenage sweetheart who decided to go with them and live in the woods together sometime after John was 18? A former victim of theirs that they fell in love with and released from captivity after you became loyal and proved yourself to them? Someone with an uncanny resemblance to their past love and their new obsession because they think you’re her and/or want you to be her replacement after she died tragically from accident or sickness (the woods isn’t exactly the safest or healthiest place to live in)? Or maybe you met and fell in love with both of these men in a different way. It’s all up to you! What do you think a romantic poly relationship with both John and Dominic would look like?

OR

Maybe something platonic where you’re their long lost baby sister whom they still remember and love even after 20 years of you being gone. Some time when he was 18, something happened that caused John to flee into the woods. Your other brother, Dominic, went missing in those same woods when he was 9. Neither of them were ever found, so you and your family eventually moved out of the house and started living in a trailer. You stayed outside all day to escape your abusive father and by the time you made the long walk back, the trailer was up in flames. Both your parents were dead. You were found by police/forest rangers and taken away, put into foster care or adopted into a new family. You were separated from your brothers for years, and the house was eventually sold to another family. The children found some of John and Dominic’s old stuff that they left behind, such as morbid children's books, weird stick figure drawings, and creepy handmade dolls.

Unbeknownst to the children, these dolls were meant as welcome home gifts for you. Your brothers are patient as they anticipate your return. They found each other and reunited sometime after Dominic murdered the farmer, so they’re hopeful you’ll find them again and come home. When that day finally comes, neither of your brothers will ever let you get away from them again. They lost you once, and they couldn’t bear to let it happen a second time. Neither of them would survive it. You’re their little sister and always will be. Now that they’re all grown up, they’ll take really good care of you. They’ll protect you from any threats or dangers that may cause you harm. They wished they could’ve done a better job of defending you when you were children, but now as big strong men they can be your shield! They may kidnap you and hold you captive, but it’s all done out of love and concern for your well-being! The outside world is a very scary and dangerous place, full of strangers and shady people who’d want to hurt or corrupt you! They love you more than anything or anyone and just want to keep you safe and make you happy! You’re not allowed to have friends, but who needs those when you have your big brothers! (Or maybe they’ll cave in and get you “pets” to play with so you don’t get too lonely or bored.)

Whether romantic or platonic, you’d be the only living person fortunate enough to see their faces. They trust you enough to unmask themselves in front of you. They’re willing to show vulnerability in front of you and only you. You’re the only one who can make them feel comfortable in their own skin, the only one who can make them feel loved. And they both love you in return.

[fictioninteractionexchange]

I hope you really enjoy this community! ❤️❤️❤️

What is Fiction Interaction Exchange about? It's a community made for people to share their works under posts made for exchanges. It's a nice way to get more kudos and reviews for your fics and chapters. And very fun!

How do the exchanges happen? Very simple! Someone makes a post specifying the theme of the exchange (doesn't necessarily have one, but it's common), assigns a period that members can post and a (generally slightly) extended period so they can finish reviewing other people's works. It doesn't have to be reciprocal (though it's nice), generally how it works is you having to review 1 or 2 chapters (or more) or a specific number of words (a fic/chapter having that minimum number), of any fandom or genre that you like. This is why it's important to have people of varied fandoms and genres here.

Multifandom • Multigenre • Original

<<<<<<<<<<Shipping-Specific>>>>>>>>>>

The community is liberal, but not all ships/ship-involved behaviors are allowed, at least not if they are normalized or glorified. The definition of ship involves any kind of sensual, romantic and sexual interactions, such as flirting, seductively staring, sexual/sensual petting, kissing (mouth), those directly sexual and formal/hidden romantic relationships, involving these three categories:

Children: those who didn't reach or didn't complete puberty, even with each other. To simplify, anyone younger than 13 should not be involved with ships even with each other. Grey Area: teenagers aged 13 and 14 can date each other (no sex), those aged 15-17 can date each other (warn if there's sex) and others at most 4 years older than them.

Animals: any human/humanoid getting involved with animals of other species in any way. Sex between animals is also not allowed unless it's for comedic effect. Grey Area: humans can have relationships with humanoids (aliens, monsters, vampires, werewolves, etc.). Shape-shifters and werewolves can only have shippy interactions in the same form, like human-human and wolf-wolf, though again human-mixed is ok and wolf-mixed is not.

Family Members: close ones, or having a descent/sibling connection - parents (including grandparents, great-grandparents, etc.) with children or descendents, regardless of how distant; siblings, half and full; aunts/uncles with nephews/nieces (including great aunt with great nephews for example). It applies to blood and adoption. Grey Area: Cousins (first or not); those not related by blood or adoption like step-family and in-laws (ex or not) must be warned.

Severely Disabled or Unconscious People: people who have limited awareness and are unable to give consent. Somnophilia is also not allowed, even if previously agreed.

These rules cannot be gotten around by attempting to platonize non-platonic interactions or mentioning culture or family traditions. If works include these things, they must mention them as unequivocally bad otherwise they won't be allowed.

Additional things to be tagged: infidelity, age-gap relationships, relationships with possible power imbalance such as teacher-student, non-con (remember not to normalize/glorify it), dub-con, kinks of any kind (including rimming).

<<<<<<<<Non-Shipping Specific>>>>>>>>

Don't normalize violence or psychological abuse towards children, animals, partners or anyone. You can write bad characters but make it clear that they are bad!

Additional things to be tagged: taboo drug use (from marijuana to heroin), self-harm, suicide, murder/killing, general violence and especially graphic, darkfics, horror, terror, shocking.

🌟 Rules Regarding The Exchanges 🌟

First and foremost, be nice and treat everyone how you want to be treated. Make fellow members feel welcome.

Give a kudos along with the review, it's a simple button that makes a person super happy and silently mention you liked the work, even if you just read a chapter. If it's not on Archive Of Our Own, give the equivalent if it exists.

Give actual thoughtful reviews, not something generic like "I like this" or "I like how you describe your characters, it's very good" or something that sounds rushed. If you wouldn't like to receive this as a comment, the other person won't either. If you don't like a fic, a ship, a genre or someone's writing style, look for another fic from the exchange. If you receive a low-effort comment, contact the blog or staff. The user who does it will be warned and required to do another review. And of course, don't express dislike for the fic in the review.

Only 4 exchanges are allowed at a time, only allowed if another for the same purpose (e.g. fluff fics exchange) isn't available and must be posted by different users. That is to ensure people focus on existing exchanges and equal participation.

As a host, make things clear. Say what are the requirements of the shared fics if any (for example, genre or minimum/maximum number of words), the necessary requirements like minimum someone has to review (ex. 1 chapter or 1,000 words) in order to join, right on the post. If you forget, you can edit it and add.

As a host, don't share your fic directly on your post. Share it on the comments like everyone else.

Don't delete the exchange, it can result in action, especially if it's still going on and people have joined.

As a participant, after introducing the fic, add how many you have reviewed. For example, if the requirement of the exchange is to review at least one and you haven't reviewed any, write in a response to your comment: Reviewed: 0/1.

As a participant, don't delete your comment. If you don't have time for the exchange, contact the host and it will be discussed if you can review later, but in case of doubt review the fics posted (if already submitted) before adding yours to the exchange.

[blackberrywars]

LOK: Ming-Hua Tattoo Ideas

I've got a fic in the works where Ming-Hua has extensive tattoos in the Inuit style, and this is essentially a compilation of all my ideas. I'm not going to use all these in the fic itself for plot reasons, but I wanted everything in one place. Full disclosure, I am not an expert in tattoos or Inuit culture, nor am I trained as an artist, so all of this is me doing research and using references to the best of my ability. Sadly, a lot of the original meanings/history behind Inuit tattoos, especially the diverse patterns between different tribes, has been lost, but many people are working to revive it.

I wanted to use Inuit styles for her, since I hc her as part of the Northern Water Tribe, and Ming-Hua's lack of arms ties into a traditional Inuit goddess, Sedna, who had her arms cut off as part of her story. In the past (and the present, as more and more Inuit women are re-adopting this custom), this story would be commemorated with tattoos along specific parts of the fingers and arms to represent where Sedna was cut. Plus, I thought it would be cool to adapt this style to the world of ATLA/LOK and Ming-Hua specifically.

(My first draft) Obviously, arm tattoos are impossible here, so while most of the resources I found focused on arm/face tattoos, I put the bulk of them on her legs. These are meant to represent milestones and skills/achievements, another feature of Inuit tattoos. Since waterbending is so focused on arm movements, I imagine they would probably go there, but hers are on her legs, and I tried to come up with meanings for each one. The ones on her face and torso are more milestone-based, and more based in traditional Inuit practices.

(NON-SEXUAL NUDITY UNDER THE CUT)

Branching Y's: her tentacles and how they split and branch off. I wanted these to continue across the length of her leg because she uses them so much; traditionally referred to essential hunting tools

Spikes: turning water to ice, a basic skill but an important one

Circles: basically all represent the moon in some way; the one on her knees is specifically meant to be the Moon Spirit, Tui/Yue; the one on her stomach is for mothers

Wiggles: symbol of the water tribes and of the Ocean Spirit, La

Boat: reminiscent of an upside-down Mark of the Wise from the Southern tribe; represents being able to command a boat

Chest: traditoonally meant to symbolize motherhood and womanhood, but I also wanted to add the moons since she uses her torso to waterbend

Chin: traditional Inuit tattoo given when a girl gets her first period

Forehead V: traditional Inuit tattoo signifying entry into womanhood, so it would be given at 16 in the Northern Tribe

Eye/Cheek lines: debated meaning, ranging from just contributing to the general beautification of the tattoos to group identification to helping one see better in the snow and/or spiritually

I found no references for back tattoos in any of my research, but it's waterbending culture, and I love some moon phases.

I welcome any questions or corrections! This is not an area of expertise (art, tattoos, or Inuit culture), and I'd love to talk to anyone with more knowledge. If anyone wants to be added/removed from the taglist, send me an ask/PM and I'll take care of it

@hellinglasses, @yellowsalt3, @wishingforatypewriter, @orangepanic, @nyamadermont

[squirrelno2]

Assuming that you play Swtor... Who are your main 8 Ocs and what's your favorite class/romance?

muahahaha so you have in fact met at least one of them via my sideblog, @relevant-url-incoming, because you asked about Kit there, but I always welcome the chance to ramble/infodump/annoy the shit out of people who are following me for not-even-star-wars-adjacent things SO:

(disclaimer: this may get spoilery. it's all very out of context spoilers, but if anyone reading this cares about swtor spoilers. be warned.)

Ven is a name some people following me here will remember, specifically as a four year old Nautolan who adopts Dogma, the clone. She also, in the grand scheme of my silly little swtor nonsense, is a time traveller who grows up to fuck shit up in the distant past. As one does. She's my trooper and my Alliance Commander and my precious baby girl mary sue beloved. She's also committed a few war crimes in her youth but what is a war crime to the star wars galaxy anyway? nobody knows. it's fine.

Nalyan is her brother, newly introduced in the same fic series i allude to above, and my smuggler. He is... grumpy. and an asshole. and also overall much more likely to save an enemy than most of my ocs, but that always surprises people due to the grumpiness. I ship him very hard with Corso and Risha who I do not ship with each other, which makes for a delightful dynamic in my head. sometimes besties just have sex with the same man it's whatever.

Kitiver is my Jedi Knight whose anxiety made him fall big-time, and he is full of self-loathing and self-doubt. He's overall kind of neutral in how the game sets up morality but when I write him it's the inwardly directed anger and the way that splashes out onto others that keeps him dark, even though all he wants is to be a good person. He doesn't really believe he's capable of that, anymore. oops.

Kaojacol is my Consular who went from a kind of coldhearted closed off person to the biggest softie who just wants to be a good friend and wife and mom. She's... a good friend? to be fair to her the wife and mom thing kind of got out of control with the whole zakuul thing. Sorry Felix and also the kid I made up for them.

Exchei is my Sith Inquisitor and she's so nice, for someone who'll shock you with Force lightning if you piss her off. Her backstory is always kind of fresh in her mind, and she really really wants to reform the Empire and stop slavery. also if you give her something nice and expensive and don't betray her she'll love you forever, which is how Andronikos sold her on the whole romance thing when she still wasn't sure if she could trust him.

Ri'gastio is a fucking asshole and also my bounty hunter. He's just. He's the guy who does every mean thing and kills everyone he can kill and makes everyone pay for everything he does for them because he figures if the world screwed him over there's no point in him being nice. He might as well do the same. I want to smack him so badly.

Tavansa is my Sith Warrior, she is my pathetic wet cat lesbian who just wants Vette to love her in spite of her many murderous tendencies and the fact that she's kind of unbearable to be around. A real attack dog kind of person, if an attack dog was also always calculating how people might perceive her behaviour so she can make sure the people (Vette) she cares about see her in the best light possible.

Sarrant is my Agent and he's... very hard to explain honestly? Like he starts out super loyal and that gets burned to hell and back, and he falls for fucking Kaliyo of all people even though he likes to let people live and help them out and generally enjoys being nice, and he also will just cut a bitch for looking at him wrong - man has issues. He's made lighter choices than his sister Tavansa but he is equally fucked.

As for my favourite class and romance uhhhh... story-wise it probably is Jedi Knight because that shit is juicy, though i think in terms of juiciness Agent is also up there. But if we're talking straight-up soft spots I really like the trooper storyline. I like that I got to force Ven to solve the trolley problem like twenty times. That was great. She names her kid after Jaxo, that's how bad that hurt her.

I also really like romancing Jorgan, possibly also because of Ven, but especially for Timothy Omundson's little voice crack when you reunite with him. Like damn. how can i resist that. I haven't romanced Elara in-game yet but the version of her that lives in my head and is married to Ven and Jorgan is great. kind of terrified to find out if the actual romance lives up to that but I adore her so if it doesn't I shall simply rewrite it.

[clownteeth6]

Get to know me!:

My name is Ni, I’m a mentally unwell individual who’s deeply in love with fictional characters:) it’s my entire personality and I’ll repeat myself a lot.

I don’t write but I love reading fan fiction with x reader. Idc if I’m cringe let me be happy for once please 😭

If you know any yautja/xeno/nikto/ghostface(danny) x reader fics send it to me :3333

What to expect in my posts:

-Ghostface art ( mainly dbd, I am IN LOVE with Danny Johnson)

-AVP art (only yautjas and xenomorphs. I don’t care about anything else. The humans and other species in the universe don’t matter to me.)

-Nikto art (I am also deeply in love with this man)

Sometimes I like making shitpost comics

Sometimes I do crafts

But these be my main posting stuff. I also like other cod men. I’m just… deeply obsessed with Nikto. You might see me post ghost, könig, Gaz, stiletto… etc… but I assure you Nikto has my full attention. This is a AVP/ ghostface/ Nikto fan page. These are my interests and all I think about. (Also cats but I like making those into shitty doodles)

I love re blogging peoples art! Look, ya’ll have pretty art, I want more people to see!

What not to expect/ won’t do:

I don’t like drawing any nsfw. Like no amount of begging will make me draw that. I’m just not interested . The only nsfw I’ll ever post is gore. But I might just keep that for my instagram only because idk how to have a sensor for that so I won’t trigger anyone. So probably just 0 nsfw here at all

I won’t post any writings. I’m just not good at it. Nothing against it

What you could maybe expect?

Commissions

Adopts

My other socials:

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/local_artworm?igsh=MjM0N2Q2NDBjYg==

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@clownteeth6?_t=8jOeDGHvJM3&_r=1