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spacesurfing · 1 year

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Bullet Shells in My Brain

Anakin Skywalker x Reader Fluff/Angst

Summary: This war has taken it's toll on your mind and body, though it's almost like nobody has noticed. And you assumed that as a good thing. But Anakin noticed, Anakin loved you too much to not notice.

Warnings: Severe mental illness, depression, mentioning of war and death, do not read if any of these warnings make you uncomfortable

Requested!

•--•

The war. You blamed everything on the war now. Because as much as you shouldn't, it was the war. It was the war that ruined your life. It was the war that tore the galaxy apart with pure white gloves. Pure white gloves that had everyone else do it's bidding for them. Everyday started to feel pointless.

As a Jedi, you knew that your well-being was supposed to hold up. You were supposed to be better than this. You were supposed to be more stable than you are now. You weren't supposed to feel so numb.

We weren't getting to the core of the problem. If there was anything you knew, it was that we were so far from the solution. We were so lost. It felt like everyday, we almost got farther and farther from the solution to this war. You can't even remember why it had started. Can't remember the events that led for it to be so harsh.

But you knew someone that did. And when you told him those same words that echoed through your mind, he didn't see that chew marks in your mind, he didn't see how badly this war was eating at you. He offered up explanations to how it started. But you didn't wanna know anymore. Cause you knew it would make you throw up.

Anakin was everything to you. He was your best friend, the person you had clung to as a padawan. He was someone you admired for his unchallenged talent. You might've said that you both were something more, but you had never spoken about it, knowing the code and the rules you both had to abide to. But you could feel it - the spark people always spoke about when speaking of love.

You couldn't feel anything at all if it wasn't with him though. You went back to your dorm, to your room with blank walls and shelves with few trinkets that were of beauty to you. Or from Ani. And you laid in your bed and stared at your ceiling.

You used to lay down after missions or a long day and cry. When the war started, you used to cry. Cry till the muscles in your core felt like they were being separated, pulled apart like strings and crushed. You would cry until your face hurt and your eyes couldn't squeeze out tears. Till the only way you knew you were crying was by the choked out wails leaving your throat. And then like a wave, everything would crash. That last tear would slip down your cheek and curve under your chin. And your eyes would stay open, eyelashes soaking and eyebags growing fast. Your face would go still, as if you had died. Maybe you had in a way.

Like the last night you cried. You died that day. Some part of you was rotting from the inside out. You were a zombie walking, one with armor and a weapon. Like a bad fruit, you spoiled the others and killed their cells. It seemed like everyone died around you. It seemed like you weren't the only zombie, too.

But now, as you punched in a 4-digit code on the panel to the right side of your door, it opened to reveal the same room that bled you dry.

Every night this room killed you more.

You unhooked your lightsaber from your belt, placing it down on a console table that was next to the door. The plant centered on it gave you peace, a living thing that you were able to make thrive.

You couldn't have shed your armor faster, boots kicked to the floor, one laying perpendicular to the hard wood and the other parallel. The least you could do was hang your clothes the correct way, smoothing them out and slipping into baggy pants and a comfortable sweater.

Your eyes traveled to a mat sitting in the corner of your room, waiting for you, but no calling. You felt no draw to meditation anymore. Something you used to enjoy now felt like a mere memory. Ani liked forcing you to meditate, but he wouldn't allow you into your room when he prompted you to.

He knew how the cream walls eroded you.

You hesitated, feeling your heart clawing at itself and crying. It weeped for some magical fix to the way you felt. But there was no fixing this, nothing that could make you smile again, and nothing that could make you form bonds with the poor younglings that were only walking into death by being at the temple.

You sat down on your bed, the mattress dipping at your weight.

Civilians were been bombed during your last mission. The separatists killed children. You couldn't save them.

You stared at the crease of your wall, the wash of emotions forcing your eye bags heavier. They were getting too much to carry. You were drowning, them dragging you down to the bottom of the disorienting ocean.

A knock on your door made you flinch. It had been firm, enough to scare you out of your skin, standing up in a panic response. Your hands grasped your arms in a way to try to ground yourself before walking towards the door.

You didn't have to open it, really. But in your mind, you felt that this was a must moment.

You stood in front of it and pressed the grey button to open it with little hesitation. The mechanical noise made you look up at your visitor, and the sight of him made a tsunami of emotions flood you.

"Ani," you croaked, voice barely sturdy.

You cleared your throat, seeing the concern on his face. Anakin cared a lot, for you and for the people that surrounded him closely. But you didn't often see his eyebrows furrow in the way they did, looking at you like you were lost.

Maybe you were lost, void of anything that was true.

Anakin invited himself in, stepping towards you so you would, in turn, step back. The door closed behind him and it left you in a breathless silence. You felt a pang in your chest, Anakin looking around your room the same way you had when you entered earlier that night.

Anakin spoke your name softly, drawing your eyes to his own. They coated over with sadness. Maybe he was starting to hate the color cream as well.

"What's happening to you?" he asked, lips not even closing fully as he felt the mood in the room darken to a hazy gloom.

You shook your head, fingertips digging into your sweater sleeves, "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what mean," Anakin retorted. His voiced lacked the sternness it should've had, given that sentence. Instead, it was steady, "This isn't the first time I've felt this. I... Your mind has changed so much. This room used to be so bright, what's wrong?"

You felt yourself break. Out of the numbing feeling you felt in your bones, came a sudden sadness, one you would much rather have than no feeling at all.

Your arms went rigid where they hugged each other but your legs felt weak. Your eyes heated and glistened over with feeling and your chin pushed at your bottom lip. Your head already started to ache from the way the muscles in your face shifted so drastically.

Anakin knew when he was needed. And he knew that all you could've asked for in this vulnerable moment was him. So, Anakin did what he did best in these moments and he grabbed onto you by your arms and held you in his own. His biceps pressed against the sides of your arms while his elbows bent to hug you, hands placed flat on your back. One hand pressed itself against the back of your head, fingers spread through your hair and held you to his chest, cheek ironed to him. His chin rested over your head, allowing you to fit into the slots of his body where you belonged.

When you wrapped your arms around his waist instead of clawing at the cloth covering you, it felt like you were made to cry in his arms in some weird, corrupt thought. You were perfect against him, and the way your tears stained his Jedi attire, you felt a connection you had never felt, one that woke you up from your depression.

You seemed to press tighter into him, grounding yourself to the Coruscant planet through the means of his torso. Your whole body shook with sobs and your cheeks were stained with the time having passed from grappling onto him. He was so steady for you, and you admired him as being your rock. You could never thank him, you could never.

"Please don't leave me," you babbled, words mindlessly leaving you as you sharply inhaled a lung-full of air, your chest letting out a broken wail.

Anakin smoothed out your hair, petting it down to your back as he listened to the words slip from your mouth. In a heart-broken response, he said your name, "I'm not leaving you. I'm staying right here, I promise. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

He placed his hand on the hair over your neck and held you steady to him. You pressed your nose into his clothes, taking in the distinct smell he had and the feeling of his warmth against your face.

"Just.. Just don't leave... I can't..." you hiccuped, "I can't do this without you."

The aura of the room finally made sense. The corners that seemed to dark for the way you used to smile. The objects that would constantly shift due to you picking them up to reminisce, now were always in the same place and tended to collect dust. Your meditation mat that always seemed cold made sense. Even the paint set you kept, gifted from Ani, sat dormant - the exact activity you called out to when you were upset.

It all made sense now, now that you were clinging to Anakin Skywalker like he was the only thing keeping your joints from splitting and your body from cracking in two.

Anakin knew the pressure that was holding you down; it wasn't something they had taught you as a naïve padawan. They never taught you about the way something like a war would destroy you wholly.

"I need you," you cried, sobs matching the wracking of your body, a sort of cry that only came from pure hurt, "I can't do this alone... you're all I have."

Anakin leaned his head down, feeling his own head become fuzzy from the words that you spoke into his chest. He pressed his lips to the top of your head in a kiss that made your body warm and tired, but the crying seemed endless. He broke you out of your trance, guiding your body to your bed before he sat down. Your arms were tore from him, and you almost felt like a helpless child when you looked at him. But Anakin scooted up to the pillows near the headboard, holding your arms to drag you onto the bed softly.

Your knees hit the bed, only seconds before your body did. You latched onto him again, hugging around his torso. You did never want him to leave, you didn't want to come to, to realize you couldn't hold onto him forever. He couldn't always be your anchor.

But he would try like maker to be that for you. He held you gently, one hand on your head, pressing so meaningfully against your face. Your leg hooked his waist, pressing your body to his side as he cuddled you a sweetheart would his lover.

But it stopped your sobbing, and it made you feel tender love. Tender love that you returned.

"I'm right here," he spoke in a mere whisper, words travelling through the air and echoing like a firefly light.

You knew he was telling the truth. Yes, of course you should know he was here, but the words meant more. The words meant he would be here, that as much as he could be away on a different planet or stuck in a meeting he couldn't leave, he was here for you.

His hand rubbed at your cheeks, letting your tears soak into the skin of his thumb. You stared into his distracted eyes, finding yourself captivated by him.

"Don't tell Obi-Wan," you mumbled.

Anakin finally connected his eyes with your own, "Why would I tell him?"

"So you can get help for me. I don't... I don't want him to worry about me."

The dirty blonde breathed smoothly, contrasting your own quick, quivering breaths. His mind seemed to wander, latching onto a few thoughts before responding, "What if you need it? I don't like seeing you this way, I hate watching you cry."

"Just..." you reasoned without thought, "Ani, will you stay with me?"

Anakin let his lips crack into a pacific smile, rubbing over your soft cheek with his lightsaber-roughed thumb.

"I'll stay with you," your name slipped from his mouth with ease, allowing your mind to relax and fall in the solace his presence gave you.

I'll stay with you.

•--•

#star wars x reader #star wars angst #star wars fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin x reader #anakin fluff #anakin angst #paula writes

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frenchkisstheabyss · 10 months

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7 Psychopaths: Lee Know

x Summary: You are X, a seasoned assassin, and your boss has just assigned you an unusual task. You have two weeks to gather six men for a top-secret mission that requires their unique brand of psychopathy. The trick is, you've got romantic history with all of them.

A detail that might make this a walk in the park or the fight of your life. Time to find out...

x Pairing: assassin!lee know x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

x Genre: angst/crime au/smut

x Word Count: 1.8k-ish

x Warnings: blood, violence, fighting, knives, guns, disposable mob goon deaths, unprotected sex, fingering, mirror sex, hair pulling, lino is a lil obsessed with you, the strongest of language

x A/N: This is #2 in a series of 6 stories featuring two members from TXT, two from ATEEZ, and two from Stray Kids. They all follow the same theme and can be read chronologically or you can jump around. I support the chaos.

Previous Psychopath: Yeonjun | Next Psychopath: Wooyoung

Downstairs in the lobby of the Hotel Artemis the Innkeeper sits behind the check-in desk face down in a pool of his own blood. If someone were to lift his head up, the mangled flesh swimming around might resemble crushed raspberries. Their daily serving of fruit courtesy of you. But no one will lift his head up. They’ll all mind their business because that’s what you do here. You step around his body and grab your fucking key before you end up just like him or worse. He’ll wake up eventually. Probably.

Stepping into the surprisingly well-kept elevator, you press the button for the top floor, adjusting the garter belt beneath your dress as the doors close on the empty lobby. This is no time to admire architecture but you can’t help yourself. The Romanesque style interior is breathtaking, much nicer than the deathtraps you’ve found yourself in trying to track down the Black Cat. Some might call it lucky that Minho’s petty streak led him to the penthouse suite of the Artemis, right down the street from where your hotel is.

Watching the numbers light up one after the other as the elevator ascends, you’re shocked when it comes to a stop at the 6th floor, 14 floors short of your destination. You step back, wedging yourself in a corner, and fish your headphones out of your purse. Your music’s on before the bell dings, doors sliding open to let half a dozen goons file in. Italian mob. Dressed in all black. Cocky. Faces still healing from their last brawl. Half of them smile at you, nodding, politely admiring the way your dress hugs your curves, gawking at your flawlessly applied makeup.

You smile back and they turn away, eliminating you as a threat. Stealthy glances around the elevator reveal the guns tucked into their waistbands. The Big One, twice your size in every way, has a set of brass knuckles on his callused hands. Gold plated. Fancy. “Excuse me, gentlemen” you sing, maneuvering through them with the grace of a proper lady. They part the sea for you, unknowingly clearing a path to the control panel. “Getting off already, beautiful?” “Mmm'' you sigh, a manicured nail hovering near the bright red EMERGENCY STOP button, “Not yet.” Your fist slams down on the button, bringing 6,000 pounds of metal to a screeching halt.

Minho studies the 16th-century Turkish vase on display in the lavish, and utterly destroyed, penthouse of the Golden Child, a pretty boy whose mob boss daddy provides him with enough money to blow on all the cocaine, strippers, and obnoxiously expensive art he can get his hands on. “Don’t you touch it!” the Golden Child screams, spitting loose teeth and blood onto his bear skin rug. Minho pops open the glass display case that houses the vase and an assortment of other highly fragile artifacts. “Don’t touch what?” he asks, winding up the scarlet splattered golf club he used to lay ruin to the apartment and its inhabitant, “This?”

“I said no!” Minho chews at the inside of his lip, pretending to be unsure of his next move when he knows exactly what he’s about to do. The head of the club shatters the priceless vase into a thousand pieces, shards of ceramics and glass flying through the air as he dishes out swing after spiteful swing to those poor, innocent historical treasures. The Golden Child grabs onto the arm of his white leather couch, attempting to push himself up but broken ribs send him tumbling back down. “You’re out of your fucking mind!” he curses, “All because I spilled a drink on you? I said, ‘My bad!”

Winded, Minho tosses the golf club across the room, grinning to himself as he notices a leaking cut on his hand. “My bad?” he laughs, “My bad?” It disgusts him, the smugness of people who think they can run around doing anything they want to anyone they want. Poor manners, that is. His parents should’ve taught him better but that’s what Minho’s here for. Charging across the room, he grabs the Golden child by the collar of his soft cotton robe and hammers his head onto the floor. “My bad is not ‘Sorry!’”

Minho bashes his fist into the man’s jaw, the brute force of the blow knocking another molar loose, “Say sorry!” “Eat shit.” “What?” Minho snaps, positive his ears are deceiving him. The Golden Child smiles up at him, arrogant and entitled even in his battered state, “Eat shit. My dad keeps tabs on me 24/7. He’s probably sending some guys up here right now and when they get here? You're dead.” Grabbing the belt barely hanging onto the man’s robe, Minho twists it around his neck, depriving him of air.

“I guess I’ll see you on the other side then, huh?” Minho doesn’t blink, not even once, as the color drains from the Golden Child’s eyes, bone splintering, his windpipe crumbling just as easily as his precious vases. Saying sorry really couldn’t have been that hard.

“There’s nowhere to run, little one” taunts the Big One, trying and failing not to trip over the corpses of his friends. Your chest hurts like hell. The others were easy, so shit with their aim that only one bullet in 20 clips had even managed to skim your thigh. But this one? He won’t go down. Squared up against him, the knife from your torn garter clenched in your fist, you know you can’t let him hit you again. Another blow to the chest and you’re done for. “Who’s running, big boy? Let’s get it.” Tapping the EMERGENCY STOP button again, the elevator whirls back into action.

The Big One charges at you, swinging wildly. You duck, rolling through the bodies and slicing open the back of his left leg. The bell dings on every floor like the start of a boxing match. The Big One punches one of the walls, denting the metal. So much for pristine architecture. As he reels from the hit, you jump on his back, jabbing the knife into his chest from behind. The bell dings for a final time on the 20th floor. Biting down on your arm, he flips you over his shoulder, slamming you down onto the floor, knocking the air out of you.

The doors creak open as he raises his foot to stomp a steel toe boot down on your chest. Bang! A bullet barrels through his skull. The titan stumbles, his brain quite literally scrambled. Bang! Bang! Two more shots and he’s slumped on the ground with his friends where he belongs. Reunited at last. “Who’s your new boyfriend?” Minho teases from the hallway, tossing the gun to the ground. “You’re welcome!” you groan, flipping him off. He hops onto the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby. “Thank you,” he says, sweetly, grateful for your help and your presence.

Taking you into his arms, he props you up in the corner, checking you for injuries. “What is this?” You flinch when he brushes a tender spot on your head, “You tell me. You’re the one with the mob after you.” “No, I mean, what are you doing here?” “Oh, uh, boss sent me to get you” you stutter, the entire reason for your arrival in Rome having shifted to the back of your mind until now.

“We need you.”

“Where?”

“Berlin.”

“When?”

“Next week.”

“Okay, if…”

You whine when he caresses your thigh, checking the severity of the bullet wound. “If what?” “If you let me take care of you” he winks. “Take care of me? Why’d you say it like that?” Minho rips a long strip of material from the shirt of a nameless corpse and secures it around your thigh to stop the bleeding. He kisses your thigh, suckling softly at the tender flesh to distract you from the pain. Ding! First floor. The doors open to the lobby and he takes you by the hand, “Let me show you.”

Taking care of you. When you say that in this line of business, it’s never a good thing but Minho had no intentions of cutting your life short. The only thing on his mind was carrying you back to your hotel, running you a nice bath, and dressing your wounds. “All better?” he asks, his breath tickling your neck as he plays with your clit. This was a part of the plan too, getting you in his lap, his naked body reunited with yours after months apart. From this position on the edge of the bed, you can see your reflection clearly. Your plush breast bounces in one of his hands while the fingers of the other spread your lips wide enough to fully expose your clit.

With your legs dangling across his, follow your cream as it trickles down the base of his cock. There’s nothing fast or rough about the way he lifts his hips to fill you. The slight curve of his cock makes you stutter each time he disappears into your pulsing warmth. “All---ah---b-b-better.” “B-b-better?” he mocks, his fingers working faster against your clit. You reach back to cup his face, scratching him the slightest bit as punishment for being a smartass. The pain only makes him want you more. His cock is as hard and smooth as polished marble, leaking precum into your needy pussy.

Minho watches you in the mirror, admiring your reflection, entranced by how the beauty of your face and the plumpness of your figure could make him put a bullet through the skull of a man who even dared to look at you wrong. “Take over for me” he whispers, guiding your hand between your legs, his fingers moving on top of yours to splash in the audible wetness of your pussy. You pick up a rhythm together, one that has your breath growing ragged and your stomach in a frenzy. With his hand now free, he brushes your hair out of your face, tilting your head to the side to kiss you.

His tongue ventures as far down your throat as it can go, devouring your moans. Bouncing you in his lap at a quicker pace, still careful not to hurt you, he caresses your body, greedy to claim you as his like you were meant to be from the start. The argument that broke you up. That stupid fucking argument. He doesn’t even remember what it was about anymore and he doesn’t care. Because you’re in his lap, your back arching against his chest, sloppily playing with your own aching bud, biting on his lip while you whimper his name. Your pulse races, your hand reaching back to grip his hair for stability.

“Mmhmm, pull my fucking hair and cum for me” he urges, “Cum for me angel.” Your tongue lashes at his, his words making you burst. “Minho! Aah, baby!” you cry, pulling his hair harder as your orgasm deepens. Minho rests his head on your shoulder. Watching you cum is like performance art. “I don’t care about anyone else. Just promise you’ll never leave me again.” Your glossy eyes meet his in the mirror, “I promise.” “You mean it?” “I mean it.”

And you do mean it. You have to. Because, with the hell that awaits you in Germany, sweet reunions like this might end up being your last.

#lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know angst #lee know smut #stray kids au #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year

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Beskar Doll - Ch. 47: Plans

You and the Mandalorian work with your allies to save your son. A continuation of Beskar Doll ch. 1-46 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut :D No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 3.8k

You were relieved when Sosha dismissed Pell and a handful of assistants who were hovering just outside the door. She closed you, Donné and Din into the salon and hugged you again, tightly.

“I’ve missed you,” she said quietly. “I never should have sent you away…”

“It was the smart move,” you said, holding onto her, the one person left who knew you before you became what you were now.

“It wasn’t the right thing to do,” she pulled back from you and took your hands before looking at Donné. “Have the others here by morning, we leave first thing. Arrange for the fastest cruiser we have to be ready.”

Donné bowed her head and left the room, too.

“Well, since this is just between friends,” Sosha smiled a little toward Din. “Including some new ones, let’s get you out of those wet clothes and start finding your boy.”

She led the way down a grand hall - all gleaming stone and soaring ceilings - to her chambers.

“Normally, I wouldn’t allow a man back here but, given that he’s your husband, I think we can make an exception,” she led the way to her dressing room and paused, getting you a towel and a robe. It was disconcerting, having Sosha get things for you, look after you. Not that she never had, of course, but the nature of your relationship the last time you’d seen her had been decidedly reversed. She hardly treated you like a servant but you regularly helped her dress in the elaborate robes of the queen - including making sure there enough protective fabrics and plates to keep anyone from taking her out too easily.

“It looks like we’re still the same size,” she said absently, going to her massive closet. “But I’m guessing you don’t wear the kinds of things we used to much anymore…”

“Can’t say I’ve had much of a reason to,” you laughed a little as you toweled off your damp hair and started taking off your wet clothes. “I’ve been spending more time in the… less reputable parts of the galaxy lately. And we’re bounty hunters…”

“You’re a bounty hunter?” She raised her eyebrows. You nodded. She laughed once. “Can’t say I expected that!”

You wrapped yourself in a robe and she pulled a gown out of the closet, one that you knew was simple by the standards of a former queen but was more elaborate than anything you’d worn in years.

“Once you’re dry, so you have something appropriate for dinner,” she said. “Of course, we have more… practical options for when we leave.”

“You mean the things we used to wear to sneak around on Imp bases?” You asked, smiling a little. She smiled a little back.

“So he knows about all the trouble we used to get into?” She asked, looking at Din again. He just looked at you.

“He does,” you said. “We ran into Teav a few years back…”

She nodded slowly, going to something that looked like a vanity. But she pushed a button on the side and it opened to reveal screens and panels. She keyed in a code before stepping aside.

“This has all the information the rebellion had known Imperial bases,” she said. “It’s a lot of data but if you have an idea of how to narrow it down?”

You sat at the vanity, Din standing at your shoulder. He put one of his hands in the middle of your back, his fingers splayed wide, like touching you was making him feel better.

“We can start with research facilities,” you said, looking up at him. “Those are going to be more limited…”

“Anything tied to genetics,” he leaned over, his body curving over your own. “Was there anything you saw? Either when you were on his ship or through Grogu?”

“Not that I remember,” you sighed, adjusting the search parameters and drumming your fingers impatiently against the surface of the vanity. “Do you know what they wanted him for? Besides the obvious?”

“The obvious?” Sosha asked. You felt Din stiffen at your side and you put a hand on his.

“Grogu is… special,” you said. “Remember when my mother told us stories about the Jedi she knew when she was young?”

“Of course,” she smiled. “Handsome sorcerer warriors? Like I’d forget that.”

You smiled a little. Sosha had hung on your mother’s every word when she talked about her time with Amidala. Like she’d known, even when you were both just five or six, that she’d one day be queen, too.

“Grogu is like them,” you said. “He has powers and the Empire wants him. We’re not sure why, outside of research…”

“Who has him?” She asked, coming to sit beside you on the small bench. You moved to the end of the bench, pressing yourself against Din.

“Gideon,” you said. “He’s also particularly interested in old Rebellion information, he wants to know how we moved information, how we embedded spies into Imperial systems…”

“He’s got to be planning something big, then,” Sosha said absently, shifting to information gathered on specific Imperial officers. She pulled up the information on Gideon and a chill ran down your spine when you saw his face. “Looks like he had an interest in cloning…”

She switched back over to the information on bases.

“Just two cloning facilities,” you leaned in closer to the screen.

“That narrows it down,” Sosha frowned. “Any way you can tell which…”

“It’s Phindar,” you said, looking up at Din. “It has to be Phindar. I can feel it, he’s there.”

“How…” Sosha began but you felt Din’s fingers on your back tighten against you.

“He’s taunting us,” he said. “It’s in Mandalorian space. He took him to Mandalorian space. Because he knows I don’t have other Mandalorians to call on for help.”

“Made another Imperial enemy?” Sosha asked, brows raised.

“Something like that,” you ground your teeth.

“Good,” she said. “All the more satisfying when we destroy him.”

“He’s ours,” you said, looking at the image of Gideon on the screen. You let the heat of hate soak you. You wanted him, you wanted his blood, you wanted his pain. He took what was yours, the most precious thing. You wanted to make him pay. “No one kills him but us.”

“He’s yours,” Sosha said, putting a hand on your arm. “All yours.”

She turned her attention to the Mandalorian.

“I’m afraid that during chaos of your arrival, I didn’t catch your name,” she said, looking him over.

You went to give an excuse but he spoke before you had a chance.

“Din,” he said. You looked up at him, surprised. “Djarin.”

“Would you like us to find something for you to wear to dinner, Din?” She asked. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what Mandalorian traditions are, we didn’t have any dealings with your people during my reign so it’s a bit of a blind spot…”

You half smiled at that and wondered if you’d have gotten over Din’s armor sooner if you’d known better.

“I don’t remove my helmet in the presence of anyone but my wife,” he said. “But I appreciate your offer.”

“Really?” Her brows went up. “In that case, I will have something sent to your room after, assuming you’d like to accompany your wife to dinner?”

“I would.”

“Good,” she smiled. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to excuse us while we dress for dinner. I’m sure Captain Pell would love to discuss some finer points of the plan of attack. He always hates it when I sprint things on him…”

“Please tell me you’re not still causing trouble!” You gaped at her. She shrugged. “Sosh! You can’t just…”

“I can do whatever I want,” she smirked a little. “And I believe I’m no longer your concern.”

You glared at her but she just looked proud of herself. You turned your attention back to Din.

“I don’t have to…” you began but he cut you off, cupping your cheek and tilting your chin so his eyes could more easily meet his own.

“Stay, Cyare,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

You watched him go for a moment, a knot forming in your stomach at the distance. You knew you were both safe here, that nothing would happen to him here, but so much had happened within the past few days. The only secure place you had was with him. You’d lost so much, you couldn’t lose him, too.

“You love him,” Sosha said. You spun to face her and she was smiling softly.

“I do,” you smiled a little back, the most you could bring yourself to smile under the circumstances. “I really, really do.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d ever find that again,” she said, getting up and changing the vanity back into a vanity with the press of a button. “I’ve been worried that you were alone but you’ve found someone who is more your match than you could have ever found here.”

She picked up a brush and started running it through your hair.

“Sosh…”

“Oh hush,” she cut you off. “I did your hair now and then when I was queen, too. Let me do this, it’s been far too long.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on the feeling of your oldest friend untangling your hair and starting to plait it. It was a comfort, the knot in your stomach easing.

“So,” she said conspiratorially. “The helmet…”

“Yes?” You asked brows raised, a small smile on your lips.

“Did he really leave it on for EVERYTHING until you were married?” She asked.

“Sosh!” You elbowed her lightly.

“What!” She laughed, pinning a braid into place. “I met a Mandalorian, a few years ago. I think she takes a different approach to the creed, though, as her helmet came off rather quickly… she was plenty talented with her tongue, though…”

“You met another Mandalorian?” You spun, eyes wide. “When? Where? Also, a talented tongue? How fast do you work now that you don’t have to meet the standards of royal decorum?”

“Just fast enough,” she winked before putting her hands on your shoulders and turning you back around. “Now stay put or I’ll never finish. I can find all the information for you, but it was at least four years ago…”

You deflated a bit at that.

“Have you been in touch with her since?” You asked. “I know most of the Mandalorians Din knew were wiped out about a year ago…”

“Oh no,” she frowned. “We haven’t kept in touch, it wasn’t exactly that kind of relationship. But I hope she’s OK…”

“Me too,” you fidgeted with the sleeves on the robe before meeting Sosha’s eyes in the mirror. “How have you been? Are you happy?”

“Now I am,” she nodded a little, focusing on a braid. “It was hard, after the war. You were gone, my reign ended not long after, Naboo was still in tatters when it did… I had a hands on role rebuilding which was a blessing, it kept me busy. Gave me purpose. But I’ve since become the Ambassador to the New Republic, which has been fulfilling. And I’m not married yet but… Well, there is someone.”

“There is?”You smiled turning to look at her.

She rolled her eyes and gripped your shoulders again, facing you to the front.

“Stay put,” she said, stern but smiling. “But yes, there is. Maybe, once we find your son, you can meet him. You’d like him, I think. He’s a flyboy, just your speed.”

You laughed a little.

“You never answered the helmet question, by the way,” she said, sweeping some of your hair back. “Was it really on the whole time?”

“I didn’t see his face until the day we got married,” you said, cheeks hot. “But… he took it off in the dark plenty before that.”

“Good, because I’d have tried to talk you out of marrying him if you were going in that blind,” she teased, pinning the last chunk of hair into place. “Who knows what kind of bad decisions we’d make without each other.”

You laughed once.

“Who knows.”

***

Din liked Pell. The man was smart, thorough, dedicated to Sosha’s safety almost as much as Din was dedicated to yours.

“I’ll have 20 men with me,” he said, pulling up a schematic. “This is what we know of the facility. With the firepower of the ship, we should be able to brute force our way in at this point, it should be away from any holding cells and ensure that your son isn’t in danger.”

“That will put us in a funnel,” he frowned below the helmet.

“Which is why you and I will be the first in,” he said. “We’ll be able to take out the first volley of troops and get Her Highness and the Ladies in quickly. They can disperse from there, searching the facility. I’ll leave five men to hold the entry point, we’ll send three with each Lady. I’ll stay with Her Highness, you will stay with your wife. We’ll keep them in one piece, find your son, kill Gideon and get out.”

Din nodded.

“Gideon is ours,” he said. “He’s too dangerous to leave alive and he’s taken too much from me. He’s ours.”

Pell nodded once.

“I don’t care what makes the man fall as long as he falls,” he said.

“I appreciate…” Din started to say but the words died on his tongue when you came into the sitting room.

He’d never seen you look quite like this, even when you’d gotten them into the party on Coruscant. Your hair was mostly up and back with some hanging in curls around your bared shoulders. He wanted to remove his helmet and trail his lips over those shoulders to your neck, your cheek, your lips. The gown you borrowed from Sosha fit you like a second skin, highlighting every curve, your breasts full and soft and all but spilling over the structured top of the gown, the skirts flowing around your legs while hinting at your shape. You’d done your makeup, too, your lips lush and dark, lashes long. You were living art, something too beautiful for him to touch. But you smiled when you saw him.

“Cyare,” he said, going for you. It was automatic, an instinct. The anxious ache in him eased when his hand went around the back of your neck and your hand held his wrist, your eyes finding his below the helmet. He felt some of the tension leave your body at the contact.

“How’s planning?” You asked, your unoccupied hand finding his waist.

“As far as we can get it for now,” he said. “We’ll need to go by the Crest before we leave. There’s something I want you to have before we leave.”

You frowned a little but nodded once.

“Then, as long as Captain Pell is OK with it,” you glanced around Din. “I’d like to borrow my husband.”

“He’s all yours, My Lady,” Pell bowed his head a little when he finished addressing you and you smiled a little before taking Din’s hand and leading him toward the dining room.

“The other handmaids will be here overnight,” you said, pressing yourself against Din’s side. “I feel so… foolish, getting dressed up and eating and doing anything else right now…”

“We’ve done what we can for the moment,” he gave you a squeeze. “It’s your first visit home in years. We’re getting him back. That’s what matters.”

You just nodded, your hand slipping around his bicep.

“You look beautiful, Cyare,” he said, knowing it was an understatement. But he wasn’t sure how else to say it, especially now. How could he say that stars you loved so much paled in comparison to you? That, in all his travels through the galaxy, you were far and away the loveliest thing he’d ever seen?

“Well I have to try to hold my own against all that beskar,” you gave him a small smile. “You’re always dressed to impress…”

“Not like you,” he tugged you closer. “Never like you.”

Dinner, Din was surprised to find, was a pleasant affair. The other handmaids were still on their way so it was just the two of you with Sosha and Donné.

“Normally, this would have been a much happier evening,” Sosha said. “Reuniting with our sister this way is bittersweet. But, since I know we’d like to know what you’ve been up to and I’m sure you’re only able to think about your son, please, tell us about him.”

You looked at Din and laced your fingers through his below the table.

“Din saved Grogu from an Imperial bounty,” you said, looking at him, your hand tight in his own. “And he’s just the most precious little boy.”

“He’s a troublemaker,” Din smiled a little below the helmet. “Obeying is not his strong suit.”

“And he’s very good at letting you know exactly what he wants,” you smiled broader. “If you don’t get it for him, he’ll figure it out on his own and Maker help you if that happens…”

It felt good to talk about him, to focus on him. It made it easy to forget, for a moment, just how afraid he was. How much he hated standing still, even though he knew that this was the best way to help him.

A meal had been delivered to the room that you were led to after dinner and you closed and locked the doors. Din removed his helmet and caught your arm as you passed, bending and trailing his lips over your shoulder to your collarbone to your jaw.

“Din,” you breathed.

“Just needed to kiss you there while you looked like that,” he whispered against your ear, your cheek against his. You were so close. It was right that you were so close. Having you close was the only safe thing.

You took down your hair and he watched you while he ate. He thought the food must be good but it was hard to taste anything, between the fear and stress and you.

“Are we ready?” You asked, looking at him. “At this point, I don’t care if we are or we aren’t, we have to go get him, I can’t wait anymore…”

“I know,” he said, glad that he could look at you without having to look through the mask right now. It would feel wrong, having that barrier between you when you were this distraught. “But we’re ready. Because of you, we’re ready.”

You nodded, fisting the fabric of your dress in your tense hands.

“Come here, Cyare,” he said, getting up and going to the end of the bed. “Let me help you take that off.”

You just nodded before going to him, sweeping your hair over your shoulder and exposing your back to him. The gown laced up and he removed his gloves before he untied it, sliding his fingers into the spaces between the ribbon, loosening the corset and brushing against your skin as it became exposed.

When it was so loose that you had to hold it up, he slid a hand over your shoulder to your chest, splaying his fingers wide over your rib cage and tugging you back against him, your head on his chest as you looked up at him.

“Do you think you can rest tonight, Cyare?” He asked, his nose brushing yours.

“No,” you breathed.

“Then let me help you,” he said.

You dropped the dress and stepped out of it, exposing your all but naked body to him. He nudged you back down on the bed and slid your underwear - your last remaining stitch of clothing - off your body.

“Din,” you moaned.

“I know,” he said, removing his armor quickly, followed by his flight suit. He left it all with the dress, crawling up your body. He brushed your hair back, searching your eyes.

You were afraid, like him. Hurting, like him. You were his mirror and he was yours and he needed to be one with you.

He kissed you, gently, his hand tracing down your body to the apex of your thighs. He lightly brushed and teased your clit, making you whimper.

“Promise me it will be OK,” you begged him, your lips brushing his own. “I need you to tell me it’s going to be OK…”

“It’s going to be OK,” he said, not sure he believed it himself. He believed you’d given them the best chance, the best hope, of it being OK. He knew he wouldn’t rest until it was OK. “I promise, it will be OK.”

You clung to him and he worked your clit faster, sliding two fingers into your wet heat. Your velvet walls gripped him tight and he groaned, ready for it to be his cock inside of you like this instead of his fingers.

He pressed his fingers into the soft space inside you that he’d claimed as his own over and over again until you came with a gasp around him.

You ran your fingers through his hair, looking at him, your eyes wide and pupils blown.

“Need you,” you were panting. “Please, need you close…”

“Need you, too, Cyare,” he said, taking his swollen cock in his hand, spreading your wetness over himself. He notched himself against you for a moment before sinking into you, your fingers digging into his back as he entered you.

Your back arched and he slipped an arm below you to hold you closer, your skin impossibly soft against his. You rocked your hips up against him, hooking a leg over his hip as he pressed into you as deeply as he could, your body tightening around him.

“Din,” you panted, holding your whole body against him, like you couldn’t be too close. “Please…”

“It’s going to be OK, Cyare,” he managed, so focused on how you felt it was hard to be aware of anything else. “It’s going to be OK. I have you, we’re in this together, it’s going to be OK…”

You came with a strangled gasp and the tightness of you set him off, filling you.

He held onto you, your body all but completely wound around his as he enveloped you. He liked it this way. That you needed him to be this close, too.

“I love you, Cyare,” he panted, holding your face in his hand. “I’ll protect you. We’ll save him. It’s going to be OK.”

“I know,” you took a shaky breath and nodded. “I know.”

#fanfic #smut fic #mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader

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steelhipdesign · 2 years

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Just in time for Christmas - my heart series. I was going for a neon and back lit vibe with these panels. These rubber LED filaments allow me to curve them into any shape for the lighting I want. Both the blue and green heart are mounted slightly raised above the wooden base to achieve the back light effect.

They are inspired by the steampunk aesthetic, a bit of Frankenstein's laboratory and dash of retro neon love. I'm trying to move LED into more adult jewelry designs but I don't want to lose the sense of magic that light creates.

These all have a range of components, many genuine vintage collected over the years. I like combining parts from different eras and a wide range of industries. There are a few standouts on these pieces: the vintage brass heart cage, mesh window on the blue heart and the feature titanium coloured screw on the green heart.

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visualkingsg · 2 months

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Curved vs. Flat Screens: The TRUTH About Which is Better for YOU!

Scrolling through endless options for a new monitor in Singapore? Feeling overwhelmed by the debate between curved and flat screens? Well, fret no more! Let's cut through the marketing jargon and help you decide which beauty is best for your needs.

The Flat Screen: A Classic Choice

Flat screens have been the go-to for decades, and for good reason. They offer:

Sharp Image Quality: They generally boast excellent picture clarity and resolution, perfect for everyday tasks like browsing the web or working on documents.

Wider Availability: Flat screens are readily available in a variety of sizes and price points, making them a budget-friendly option.

Multi-Monitor Setups: They seamlessly fit together for those who crave a multi-monitor workstation.

However, flat screens might not be the immersive experience you crave for entertainment.

The Curved LED Screen: A Cinematic Experience

LED screen curved has become increasingly popular, especially for gamers and movie buffs in Singapore. Here's why:

Immersive Viewing: The curved design wraps around your field of vision, creating a more realistic and engaging experience, especially for games and movies.

Reduced Eye Strain: The curve can supposedly reduce eye strain by minimizing the need to constantly shift your focus across a flat surface. (Although research on this is ongoing)

Wider Viewing Angles: Curved screens offer a wider viewing angle compared to flat screens, meaning the picture quality remains consistent even when viewed slightly off-center.

But are curved LED screens the ultimate choice for everyone?

Curved vs Flat Screens: Picking Your Perfect Match

For Gamers in Singapore:

A LED screen curve might be your best bet! The immersive experience and potentially reduced eye strain can give you a competitive edge. Look for models with high refresh rates and fast response times for a lag-free gaming experience.

For Movie Buffs:

A curved LED screen can transform your living room into a mini cinema. The wider viewing angles ensure everyone on the couch enjoys the movie magic.

For Content Creators and Designers:

Flat screens might be a better choice due to their color accuracy and ease of multi-monitor setups. However, some curved models cater to creative professionals as well.

For Everyday Use:

A flat screen is perfectly suitable for everyday tasks like browsing, working on documents, or checking emails.

Ultimately, the best choice depends on your individual needs and preferences. Consider what you'll be using the screen for most often and prioritize features that enhance that experience.Tip: Head down to an electronics store in Singapore and try out both curved and flat screens to see which feels more comfortable for you!

#curved led panels #curved led screen

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meiyadled · 6 months

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P1.25 indoor flexible arc led screen 3360*1440mm Realize your eye-catching design Large stock available with low price and good quality

#led screen #led display #meiyad #led wall #led video wall #led sign #video wall #led panel #led board #led sign board #flexible led screen #flexible led display #curved led screen #curved led display #arc led screen #arc led display

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thorfemmes · 2 years

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Hi hun I hope you’re doing well! So I daydream a lot at work and it’s a problem but that’s how I got this idea lol. I was wondering if you could write an Eddie Munson x fem plussize reader where they maybe both work at the mall (anywhere except Scoops Ahoy just because that one’s kinda all I kind find lol) and the stores they work at are across from eachother and so they see eachother almost constantly but from further away so he’s just always admiring from afar until he finally works up the courage one day to talk to her? You can decide how it ends!💜

Hi friend! I'm so sorry this took so long, writer's block is a bitch. I changed it a tiny bit, but I hope you still enjoy, and as always feedback, likes, and reblogs are always welcome and appreciated!<333

It was all very stereotypical. Boy meets girl, instantaneous attraction, loads of pining. Or at least Eddie thought so.

When Eddie first started working at Waldenbooks, he hadn't expected much. It was an easy gig; organizing and stocking shelves, helping women find the latest Nora Roberts book, pushing Lord of the Rings onto anyone who showed even the slightest interest in fantasy books. It may not have been his dream job, but it paid well, and he could work full time during the day and still have room for band rehearsal in the evening.

It wasn't until he decided to wander around after a shift that she caught his attention. On a normal day he would've gotten the hell out of dodge after a shift. Especially after shifts that were as long and exhausting as today's. Christmas was next week and with it came lines and lines of people doing last minute shopping. They had pulled him to work the register, something Eddie dreaded doing. It was all very mundane. Did you find everything okay? Do you need a receipt? Oh I'm sorry, but your card declined. That last one was usually met with offense from whoever the cardholder was.

So after this long ass shift, Eddie needed to clear his mind. He stopped by the food court to grab a lemonade from the hot dog place and proceeded to window shop. Not necessarily looking to buy anything, just something to distract him. He didn't actually walk into any stores until he came across the brick framed entrance to Spencer's.

Secretly one of his favorite stores in the mall, the colorful LED lights floating around the otherwise dark and dingy room felt oddly comforting to him. Perhaps it was the lighting, or maybe the fact that they often had Metallica and Ozzy songs on rotation in their store setlist. Either way, the atmosphere of the store was nice. And it definitely didn't hurt that he could buy pipes and bongs without anyone batting an eyelash.

As Eddie walked around the store, eyes lazily dragging over the band t-shirts on display, he glanced over to the cashier desk to see who was working that day. He didn't recognize the figure of the person working, granted they were facing away from him.

Eddie continued to walk around, looking at the cheap light displays and cheesy party decor they had. He silently giggled to himself seeing all of the penis-themed bachelorette accessories. Eventually he ventured towards the register to look at the pipes they had hidden behind glass panels. The salesperson had disappeared, probably to go tidy up the front of the store that had been ransacked during their Christmas rush.

Eddie's eyes all but glazed over as he stared at the glass pipes. Exhaustion was threatening to take over. But before he could head out he heard someone clear their throat.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" Her voice rang out like a bell.

Eddie jumped a little, surprised by the sudden intrusion. He looked up at her and instantly froze up. She was gorgeous. Her hair was tied back with loose tendrils framing her face. Her jeans perfectly hugged her waist, the soft red turtleneck she had tucked in only accentuated her curves.

"I, uh," He cleared his throat. "I'm only looking, thanks though".

She smiled softly at his stuttering. "Alright, just let me know if you need anything".

He nodded quickly and went to take a sip of his lemonade, only to choke on a small piece of ice that had snuck up the straw. He gagged as the cube hit the back of his throat and he looked at her in horror.

"Are you okay?" She watched as the young man spluttered over his cup.

"I'm fine," He wheezed. "Thanks for your help, have a good day". He darted out of the store before she could respond.

Eddie was mortified and did his best to avoid Spencer's at all cost in the following weeks. The universe, however, had other plans. Apparently she also liked to wander around after shifts or on her lunch, the bookstore becoming an after-work haven for her. Eddie recognized her almost immediately the first time she came in, almost hitting his head on a shelf after a quick double take.

He watched as she meandered through the aisles, picking up books to skim through before putting them back on the shelf. He must have been staring for a while because when you looked up at him and he quickly glanced away, he had to blink profusely because his eyes had gone dry. Recognition lit up your face, and you made your way toward Eddie's aisle.

He slowly stood up and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. Why were his palms sweaty? He had no clue. He didn't even know your name, and yet you made him incredibly nervous.

"Hey, you're Eddie, right?" You asked quietly.

"Yeah!" He said a little too enthusiastically. "Uh, excuse me. Yeah, I'm Eddie. And you are?"

She introduced herself. "I promise I'm not a creep. I was telling my boss that I came here to decompress after a shift and he told me to keep an eye out for you. Marvin says 'hi' by the way".

"Hey Marvin," He replied with a grin. "Is there anything I could help you find?"

"Actually yes! Do you have any recommendations for a historical fiction novel? I'm not too picky about what era of history, just nothing too sappy or romantic".

Eddie racked his brain. Historical fiction was definitely not his forte. The only book he could think of was All Quiet on the Western Front, and literally everyone had read that their junior year of high school.

"I'm going to be completely honest, I have no clue where to start with that genre. I am so sorry," He said dramatically.

She giggled at his theatrics. "Well, what would you recommend?"

"Are you into fantasy novels at all?"

"I've never dabbled in fantasy worlds, no".

Eddie's eyes lit up. He started to ramble on about The Reluctant Swordsman and Lord Foul's Bane and Howl's Moving Castle. Of course The Hobbit came up, more than once, but really Eddie just started to talk about the beauty of escapism, and how fantasy novels were the perfect examples of how a story can be so enthralling that it just sucks you in and allows time to fly by at the speed of light while you're enraptured by the fictional world.

She silently looked at him as Eddie talked, a small smile on her face. She watched his hands fly everywhere as he discussed the plots to one of the novels he'd recommended.

A solid 5 minutes had flown past as she nodded along to what he was saying. He slowed down to take a breath and realized how long he'd been going.

"So yeah, I'd definitely recommend a fantasy novel. If you hate it, you can obviously return it! Or if you're not interested, I can find someone who could help you find a different book?" He offered.

"I think I'll try it. Which do you suggest I start with?"

Eddie smiled and led her to the fantasy section. He scanned the shelves and carefully chose a handful of books to show her.

"Which one is your favorite?"

"I'm partial to The Hobbit. But I grew up reading it so I'm a little bit biased".

"I think I'll start with that one then".

"Really?" He smiled.

"Really," she grinned. "That way when I finish it, I can come back and we can talk about it".

"Or maybe, if you'd like, we could talk about it over coffee? Or lunch if you don't like coffee! It doesn't even have to be that formal, just a nice chat -".

"I'd love that Eddie".

He walked her up to the front desk to ring her up. He didn't realize until she was already gone that she left a little note on the signed receipt.

Call me, I'm sure I'll have lots to talk about as I'm reading :)

#eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #writing #ask #anon

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sugarpopss · 8 months

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Lee Bodecker Blurb

So......I've been talking about Lee a lot with @bucknastysbabe which of course means I pooped out something kind of horny. Imagine he and Florence get a nasty divorce at some, feel how plausible that is, then come back to this. Also kind of some kink discovery but Lee is such a good vessel for feedism yknow

Lee had a routine. He got off patrol, drove forty minutes out to the cabin on the far side of the county, and ate a somewhat miserable dinner while ‘I’ve Got a Secret’ or ‘The Price is Right’ droned on in front of him, driving the stale silence into the corners for a little bit.

Sometimes he stopped at the diner in Meade for food that was more salt and bacon grease than real ingredients, ordered in a quantity that made the teenage girl working the register raise her eyebrows; sometimes he exercised the full extent of his cooking skills and put a TV dinner in the oven. Either way, he parked his ass on the sofa, let the sound of the television fill his head and ate his dinner in a scene that would not be out of place in the 1963 edition of ‘Pathetic Divorcees 12 Month Calendar’.

Most nights, in an astounding display of disregard for personal dignity, Lee jerked off after eating. Sometimes he focused on the television and let Betsy Palmer float into his imagination, leaving the panel behind to show Lee what was under her tight little skirt. Other times he thought of his ex-wife, saw her chocolate dark hair and recalled the feeling of her breasts in his hands, how she’d tip her head back with pitchy moans when their sex was good. The only downside was that that usually led him into thinking about how nights like that had dwindled as he spent more time working-because to Lee, being on patrol or filing paperwork or meeting with Leroy all fell under the umbrella of ‘work’, at least for his purposes-how, coming up on the day Florence had served him the divorce papers, even their coupling became cold and distant and quiet, usually ending in yelling or tears if not both.

Thinking about that made Lee feel like shit.

The masturbation fodder Lee liked the best, though-or maybe just what he felt the least amount of guilt over-was the feeling of his own gut, packed with fatty diner food or ice cream and Nabisco cookies, skin warm from the stretch and stomach slightly aching as it tried churn through everything inside. He preferred not to dwell on why that feeling got him so absurdly hard-why palming his swollen belly made his cock leak like an old faucet.

In any case, masturbation was the third part of Lee’s routine. The fourth part was really playing the washed up cop and passing out under the fog of a full stomach and an orgasm. At a different time he would’ve polished off the image with a couple of beers, something to add to both the haze in his mind and the bloat in his stomach, but. Well. He was trying, as pathetic as it sounded.

As pathetic as ‘trying’ seemed to be, seeing as he still ended up conked out on the sofa, television illuminating how his undershirt was slowly creeping up over the curve of his gut like some slovenly sitcom husband. Except, that is, for the nights when Lee had the post-nut wherewithal and motivation to actually get into bed. It was actually a little bit sad how quickly he’d adjusted to sleeping alone. There was something almost reassuring about getting into a cold bed, as opposed to one warmed by a body that he knew has been waiting for hours; there was no one to disappoint or fight with or lie to in a cold bed, although Lee had done all three quite liberally throughout his marriage and didn’t feel so much guilt that he’d take them back, given the opportunity. He certainly wouldn’t give up what they’d gotten him…but it still felt safer to be alone.

Besides, the warmth and weight of his packed gut was a close enough substitute for the comfort of a woman, the grip of his own callused fist a workable approximation of the tight, wet heat of a cunt. Shocking as it may be, there wasn’t a line of women out the front door of the creaky old cabin with one working sink and raccoons in the attic-but even those traits were probably a better draw than Lee himself.

It didn’t matter. He was just alright by himself-it seemed like exactly the way he was meant to be.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker fanfiction #the devil all the time #the devil all the time fanfic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #a touch of feedism in there #re-elect sheriff bodecker #my writing #chubby Lee bodecker

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blueiskewl · 8 months

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Ancient Egyptian 'Mummy Portraits' From Nearly 2 Millennia Ago

These ancient 'mummy portraits' provide a window into ancient Egyptian life and culture.

In the early first millennium, many mummies in Egypt were affixed with lifelike portraits showcasing the deceased's once-vivid eyes, styled hair and elaborate jewelry. Over the past few centuries, archaeologists have unearthed more than 1,000 of these mummy paintings, largely from the city of Fayum, earning them the name "Fayum portraits."

These well-preserved, mesmerizing portraits still captivate, prompting Allard Pierson, a museum in Amsterdam, to feature nearly 40 Fayum portraits in its exhibit "Face to Face: The People Behind Mummy Portraits," which opened Oct. 6 and runs through Feb. 25, 2024.

The portraits, created during Egypt's Roman period (30 B.C. to A.D. 395), often depict individuals with European heritage, who moved to the area following Alexander the Great's rule, the subsequent Ptolemaic dynasty (305 to 30 B.C.) led by one of his generals and the Roman period, when the empire made Egypt into a province.

The portraits were often painted on wooden panels with the two upper corners cut off so they could be easily inserted into the mummy bandages, over the face of the mummified body, Ben van den Bercken, curator of the Collection Ancient Egypt and Sudan at Allard Pierson saiid.

Below are 12 of the portraits, each revealing hints about the deceased and their culture.

Portrait of Ammonius

In the restored "Portrait of 'Ammonius,'" painted on linen sometime between A.D. 225 and 250, a young man holds a chalice in one hand and a flower bouquet in the other. The artist gave Ammonius several distinctive features, including large lips, prominent ears, eye bags and strangely curved fingers, according to the book "Mummy Portraits in the J. Paul Getty Museum" (Oxford University Press, 1982).

Pearl earrings

This portrait, painted between A.D. 150 and 200 on wood, shows a young woman with brown doe eyes, a slender nose and thick eyebrows. Pearls, like the ones she wears, are one of the "most ubiquitous" types of earrings in the Fayum portraits, van den Bercken said. Jewelry and hairstyles can help researchers date the portraits, he noted. For instance, women's hairdos could "be very elaborate" and often reflected fashions and trends from Rome itself, "mainly [from] the empress," he said.

However, it's always a question how long it took the fashions of Rome to reach Egypt. In some cases, "something fashionable in Egypt might have already gone out of fashion in Rome itself," van den Bercken said.

Bearded man

In this portrait, painted on wood sometime between A.D. 175 and 225, we see a curly-haired, bearded man clad in white. The man's beard may mimic the facial hair of Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius (reign 161 to 180), who also sported a beard.

Elegant jewelry

This portrait, painted on wood sometime between A.D. 175 and 200, shows a dark-haired woman wearing a matching necklace and earrings. However, as in other Fayum portraits, it's unclear if it portrays the deceased when they were younger or around the time of death.

In some cases, the portraits were fairly accurate, according to a 2020 study in the journal PLOS One. A team took a CT (computed tomography) scan of a young boy's mummy from Roman Egypt, digitally reconstructed his face and then compared the reconstruction with his portrait. According to an analysis, the portrait made the child look younger than his 3 or 4 years but was otherwise spot-on.

Vivid eyes

This male portrait, painted circa A.D. 250 on limewood, was purchased in the early 1800s by Henry Salt, the British vice-consul in Egypt, making it one of the earliest Fayum portraits recovered in the modern age, according to "Mummy Portraits in the J. Paul Getty Museum."

The earliest record of a Fayum portrait being collected dates to 1615, when a group of the paintings was brought from Saqqara, Egypt, to Europe by the Roman nobleman Pietro della Valle.

Girl with gold wreath

In this portrait, painted on wood between A.D. 120 and 130, we see a young girl wearing a pearl necklace and a golden wreath in her hair. "This wreath is an indication that she 'overcame' death," van den Bercken said.

Man with gold wreath

Women weren't the only ones painted with gold wreaths. In this portrait, painted on wood sometime between A.D. 150 and 200, we see a bearded man sporting his own gold laurels.

Realistic portraiture

This portrait, painted circa A.D. 150, shows a man clothed in white and wearing a gold wreath. The Fayum portraits' compelling images inspired artists painting icons in the late Byzantine Empire, as well as artists in the late 19th and 20th centuries, according to Allard Pierson. Today, this style is seen as one of the earliest known examples of realistic painted portraiture.

Curly-haired man

This man's beard helped researchers date his portrait to the reign of Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Like others with portraits, the man painted here may have had European roots. Many Greeks and Romans lived in Egypt, first during the Ptolemaic dynasty, which started when one of Alexander the Great's generals took over the region, and later when Rome made Egypt into a province following the death of Cleopatra VII.

Eyes and eyelashes

This portrait, painted on wood between A.D. 300 and 400, shows a woman wearing pearl earrings. "A lot of detail has been put in the composition of eyes and eyelashes," van den Bercken said. A few clues hint that the deceased were upper-middle class or elite, including that many wore ornate jewelry in these portraits. In addition, individuals or their families had to pay an artist for the portrait. "They were not easy to make, not cheap to make resource-wise," van den Bercken said. "The people who ordered them must have had some financial means to do this."

Fancy necklace

This woman's portrait was painted sometime between A.D. 160 and 190. The majority of known Fayum portraits were found in the 1800s, but in 2022, archaeologists announced that they had discovered more at a cemetery in the ancient city of Philadelphia in Egypt.

Bright-eyed woman

This portrait, painted on wood between A.D. 170 and 200, was found in Egypt in the 1880s, according to "Mummy Portraits in the J. Paul Getty Museum." The woman wears pearl earrings, a necklace, a hot-pink tunic and black clavi, or vertical strips of ornamentation. Her curly hair is drawn into a bun.

By Laura Geggel.

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bad-fucking-omens · 7 months

Text

The Witch Twin (Alec V. x OC) - Chapter 3 - Attraction

Summary: When I thought about my future, I was sure that I had the rest of my life vaguely planned out.

Then, my older sister moved up from Arizona to stay with us — and turned my entire life upside down.

I had no idea just how bad it had gotten until I was standing in a castle in Italy, convinced that I was about to die.

Length: 2.1K words (Complete fic 71.8K words)

Fic warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, explicit smut (M/F), referenced/implied past child abuse, emotional manipulation by sibling

Chapter warnings: None

Read on AO3 or read below

3. ATTRACTION

The instant that Alec’s crimson eyes met mine, the rest of the world around me seemed to fade away until he was the only thing I could see. My heart fluttered wildly in my chest and I felt a wave of serenity wash over me, easing away all of the anxiety and stress in my body. I had never felt calmer than I did right at that moment. All I could focus on was his perfect face and the way his beautiful lips pulled up into a slight, surprisingly soft smile.

I was suddenly pulled out of the moment when Alice wrapped her frozen hand around my arm and jerked me closer to her side, breaking my eye contact with Alec as I blinked. He looked away from me to shoot a dark glare at the tiny vampire beside me. Alice dropped her hand from my arm quickly.

I sucked in a shocked breath as the fuzzy, calm feeling that had settled in my mind faded away. What had just happened?

“Aro will be so pleased to see you again,” Alec said to Edward a moment later, as if nothing had happened.

I frowned, my eyebrows pulling together in confusion. It felt like whatever had happened between me and Alec spanned a couple minutes, but everyone was acting as if only a few seconds had passed. Was all of it just in my mind? Had I just imagined what had happened between us?

“Let’s not keep him waiting,” Jane said.

Alec and Jane led the way down another wide, ornate hall. They ignored a set of golden doors and instead stopped halfway down the hall. Alec slid aside a piece of paneling to expose a plain wooden door. He held it open for Jane.

The stone antechamber opened up into a brighter, cavernous room. It was perfectly round, with long windows that threw thin rectangles of light onto the stone floor below. Three massive, wooden chairs that looked almost like thrones were spaced unevenly along the curving stone walls. In the very center of the room was another drain, but I was somehow sure that the Volturi didn’t use this one as an entrance to the streets outside.

Several people were in the room already, murmuring softly to each other. I watched two women who were wearing sundresses as they passed through one of the patches of light. My mouth parted and my eyes widened in awe as their glittering skin reflected thousands of tiny rainbows against the walls.

So that was why Bella had to stop Edward from stepping into the sunlight.

The people in the room turned towards us as we entered the room. Almost as if it was an instinct, my eyes darted towards Alec. He was already looking at me. I could just barely make out the way the corner of his lips pulled up very slightly when I looked at him. The calm feeling coursed through my body again, slowing down my racing heart just a fraction.

My focus was pulled away from Alec when a man began to move towards our group. The man was dressed in a long, pitch-black robe that brushed along the floor. His long hair was the exact same color as his robe.

“Jane, dear one, you’ve returned!” he cried in delight.

He moved towards us gracefully, his movements so smooth that it seemed as if he was floating across the floor rather than walking. The man was beautiful, but not in the same way the other vampires were beautiful. His features were aesthetically perfect, but his skin was translucently white and seemed to be incredibly delicate, as if even a gentle touch would make it flake away. His red eyes were clouded over by a thin, white film.

The man stopped in front of Jane. He took her face in his hands and kissed her lightly on her full lips. He stepped back.

“Yes, Master.” Jane smiled up at him. “I brought him back alive, just as you wished.”

He smiled. “Ah, Jane. You are such a comfort to me.” His eyes moved to the Cullens and me and my sister and his smile brightened. “And Alice and Bella and Eve, too! This is a happy surprise! Wonderful!”

My breath caught in my throat when he said my name — my nickname. How did he even know who I was? Had Edward told him about me?

The man turned to the tall, bulky vampire who had helped escort us. “Felix, be a dear and tell my brothers about our company. I’m sure they wouldn’t want to miss this.”

“Yes, Master.”

Felix disappeared through the door we had entered from.

“You see, Edward?” The vampire that seemed to be the leader of the Volturi turned and smiled at Edward. “What did I tell you? Aren’t you glad that I didn’t give you what you wanted yesterday?”

“Yes, Aro, I am.”

“I love a happy ending,” Aro said, still grinning. “They are so rare. But I want the whole story. How did this happen? Alice?” He turned to look at the girl curiously. “Your brother seemed to think you infallible, but apparently there was some mistake.”

“Oh, I’m far from infallible.” Alice smiled at him, looking eerily calm except for her hands, which were balled into tight fists. “As you can see today, I cause problems as often as I cure them.”

“You’re too modest. I’ve seen some of your more amazing exploits, and I must admit I’ve never observed anything like your talent. Wonderful!”

Alice’s golden eyes flickered towards Edward, and mine moved to glance at Alec again.

I wasn’t sure why I kept looking over at him, but I felt almost as if I was drawn to him for some inexplicable reason. Every time our eyes met, that strange, peaceful feeling flowed through me, washing away the anxiety that would just start to build up again the moment I looked away.

“Aro needs physical contact to hear your thoughts, but he hears much more than I do,” Edward said, drawing my attention away from Alec. “You know I can only hear what’s passing through your head in the moment. Aro hears every thought your mind has ever had.”

“But to hear from a distance. . . .” Aro sighed, gesturing between Edward and Alice as they seemed to share an exchange. “That would be so convenient.”

Aro looked over our shoulders. Everyone turned to look behind us.

Felix had returned, with two more black-robed men floating behind him. Both looked very much like Aro, with the same, cloudy irises and thin, flaky skin, though their long hair was different colors — one was a warm brown and the other was snow-white.

“Marcus, Caius, look!” Aro exclaimed. “Bella is alive after all, and her sister and Alice are here with her! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Neither of the men looked nearly as intrigued as Aro did. The brown-haired man looked bored, while the blonde seemed annoyed.

“Let us have the story,” Aro said.

The blonde vampire drifted towards one of the three wooden thrones. The other paused beside Aro, reaching out his hand and touching Aro’s palm briefly before he dropped his hand back to his side. Aro raised one black brow.

Edward snorted and Alice glanced at him curiously. Once again, my eyes drifted over towards where Alec stood as Aro murmured, “Thank you, Marcus. That’s quite interesting.”

I looked away from Alec, my anxiety temporarily washed away again, and I realized that Marcus had been letting Aro read his thoughts. Marcus’s expression of boredom hadn’t changed in the slightest. He moved away from Aro to join Caius, the two vampires trailing slightly behind him. I assumed that they were bodyguards, especially once I noticed the two women in sundresses had gone to stand beside Caius in the same manner.

“Amazing,” Aro said, shaking his head. “Absolutely amazing.”

Edward explained in a low voice, “Marcus sees relationships. He’s surprised by the intensity of ours.”

A grin spread across Aro’s face. “Very curious. . . . It takes quite a bit to surprise Marcus, I can assure you. It’s just so difficult to understand, even now.” He stared at Edward, who had his arm locked around Bella. “How can you stand so close to her like that?”

“It’s not without effort.”

“But still — la tua cantante! What a waste!”

Edward laughed humorlessly. “I look at it more as a price.”

“A very high price.”

“Opportunity cost.”

Aro laughed. “If I hadn’t smelled her through your memories, I wouldn’t have believed the call of anyone’s blood could be so strong. I’ve never felt anything like it myself. Most of us would trade much for such a gift, and yet you. . . .”

“Waste it,” Edward finished, his voice almost bored.

Aro laughed again. “Ah, how I miss my friend Carlisle! You remind me of him — only he was not so angry.”

“Carlisle outshines me in many other ways as well.”

“I certainly never thought to see Carlisle bested for self-control of all things, but you put him to shame.”

“Hardly.”

I shifted nervously at Edward’s impatient tone. I swore I could feel Alec’s eyes on me before I even looked over at him. Sure enough, when I turned my head, he was watching me. His face was blank, expressionless — yet I thought I could see some flicker of emotion in his blood-red eyes before I looked away again.

“Just remembering how she appeals to you. . . .” Aro chuckled. “It makes me thirsty.”

His horrifying words made my skin crawl as my stomach twisted in disgust.

“Don’t be disturbed,” Aro said to Edward, who had stiffened at his words. “I mean her no harm. But I am so curious, about one thing in particular.” His cloudy eyes flicked to Bella before they returned to Edward. “May I?” Aro asked eagerly, lifting his hand.

“Ask her,” Edward said.

“Of course, how rude of me! Bella,” he addressed my sister, “I’m fascinated that you are the one exception to Edward’s impressive talent — so very interesting that such a thing should occur! And I was wondering, since our talents are similar in many ways, if you would be so kind as to allow me to try — to see if you are an exception for me, as well?”

My breath caught in my throat as my heart rate skyrocketed. I looked at my sister, who looked up at Edward in horror. He nodded to her. Bella turned back towards Aro and raised her trembling hand slowly.

Aro glided closer and took her hand between both of his. I held my breath as I watched them. Aro’s confident expression seemed to wave for just a moment before he calmed his face back into a friendly mask.

“So very interesting,” he murmured as he let go of her hand.

My breath left me in a rush of relief and Aro’s eyes flicked to me. He tilted his head slightly as a smile curled on his pale lips. My stomach twisted uncomfortably again.

“Eve?” he asked, extending his hand.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I was turning my head, my eyes meeting Alec’s in an attempt to seek his reassurance. He gave me a very slight nod and the calm feeling settled deep inside me once again. I looked away and lifted my hand.

Aro took it between his own hands. His eyes stared into mine so intensely that I didn’t dare to even blink, let alone look away. Unlike with Bella, his confident mask didn’t waver. I wondered why Aro was intrigued by me at all. There was nothing special about me. I hadn’t even known that vampires existed until last night.

He smiled at me and patted my hand gently before he finally stepped back, away from all of us. I let out another relieved breath.

“A first,” he said to himself, his eyes flickering between me, Bella, Alice, and Edward. He shook his head. “I wonder if she is immune to our other talents. . . . Jane, dear?”

“No!” Edward snarled, making me flinch. Alice grabbed his arm but he shook her off quickly.

Jane smiled happily at Aro. “Yes, Master?”

A loud, vicious, feral snarl ripped up through Edward’s throat as he glared at Aro. The sound made me cringe away from him in fear.

I gasped when, suddenly, I was wrapped in someone’s firm, unyielding arms, my face pressed against the person’s cold chest and my arm caught between our bodies. A low growl rumbled through the body of the person holding me. My entire body trembled as I slowly looked up to their face.

Alec’s ruby eyes were locked on Edward, his lip pulled up in a snarl as he held me tight in his arms.

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