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catopoliscat · 9 months ago

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sweet dreams, good morning / fem!reader/kento nanami.

you and your boyfriend nanami usually showered at different times. this morning, he decided to join you.

tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab!reader. established relationship. shower sex. penetrative sex. no set timeline but presumed canon!verse. fingering. creampie. unprotected sex (wrap it kids). nanami had a little dream about you. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever.

wc: 3.6k.

a/n: inspired by some nsfw pieces @jimwackthesecond sent to me of nanami on discord, ty babes I'm still throbbing about it

mdni.

It was rare for Nanami to join you like this.

Even after months of living together, of being by each other's side; of cooking, eating, drinking and sleeping next to one another—showers together were rare. It wasn’t any conscious decision, really, just a difference in routine. You preferred to shower in the mornings. Nanami preferred to shower in the evenings. Small moments of solace and quiet amidst the hot water and soap. A moment of solitude between lives so tightly intertwined.

Today, however, Nanami had surprised you.

You were halfway through your usual semi-methodical routine, soap suds still clinging to your arms and chest, when you felt the door open. A cool gush of air rushed through the fog of the warm bathroom for a moment, skittering up your back in a gentle caress. You shiver, hearing Nanami’s familiar footsteps, but think little of it. You had thought you had been quiet when you had slipped from his sleepy embrace, wanting to give him a longer lie in bed for once—but perhaps you hadn’t been quiet enough.

Any moment, you had expected the tap to start running, the sound of toothpaste being uncapped and bristles against white teeth. Instead, the sound of rustling clothes just about reaches your ears over the sound of water thudding against the tiles beneath your feet, and then comes the slide of glass, a footstep and—

—strong, warm arms encircling your waist tightly, as if you might disappear into smoke if he let go.

You smile softly to yourself as Nanami presses up close against your back, hard pectorals slotting against the ridges of your shoulder blades. The heat of his chest is a strong match to the warmth of the water against your front, seeping into your bones and warming you from the inside out.

A nose nudges at the crook of your neck, moving upward before soft lips press against the spot right behind your ear. You chuckle softly, leaning back into the caress, eyes fluttering shut.

“Not like you to shower in the morning,” you murmur, barely audible over the rush of the water.

A low hum is your response. The arms wind tighter, and a large, calloused hand settles on your navel. His thumb brushes up and down in a languid, repetitive motion. You shiver slightly.

“I had an incentive,” Nanami replies, his voice a husky rumble, throat still thickened with the remnants of sleep. He presses another kiss against your skin, his lips lingering this time. “You don’t mind?”

You chuckle again, shaking your head as you settle it back against him, feeling the hard ridge of his collarbone against your skull. “Of course not.”

Even after all this time together, seeing each other at your most vulnerable, Nanami was always aware and respectful of boundaries, even unspoken.

A contented silence settles in the bathroom, broken only by the spray of the showerhead. Morning sunlight spills through the frosted, dewy glass, reflecting off the mirror that paints a portrait of a couple, very much in love. Nanami’s thumb continues its gentle caress, a soft swipe up and down that becomes as familiar to you as your own heartbeat. His other hand rests against your ribs, just underneath your breast, but makes no move to touch or cup it just yet.

A sleepy comfortability takes over you. Between the heavy warmth of the water and steam, as well as the steady thrum of Nanami’s heartbeat behind you, you find yourself leaning more and more into his form. He supports you easily, hands tightening just slightly to bear more of your weight. You start to distinctly remember why you rushed through showers in the morning—sleep still clinging to your mind like condensation on glass.

It was a weekend, though. Neither you nor Nanami had any work or missions, no business or meetings. There was no world to save. Not today.

“I could fall asleep like this,” you mumble, eyes still shut.

Another feathery kiss, against your shoulder this time. “Do you want to go back to bed?”

Although the idea of crawling back into still-warm sheets is appealing, you shake your head. This was enough. More than enough.

You wind a hand down your body, settling it above Nanami’s own where it rests against you. You don’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his, and he doesn’t hesitate to hold them, giving them a small squeeze.

With his one thumb now restricted, his other thumb takes over its brother's repetitive motion, occasionally brushing against the underside of your breast. Although initially accidental and easily forgotten, the movement gradually becomes more intentional. Daring. One particular sweep brushes over the swell of your breast. The next is even higher, just across your nipple.

An involuntary breath leaves you as the slight sensation causes familiar goosebumps to erupt across your skin. Your lips part slightly as you arch into the touch, the curve of your back pushing your hips back into—

Ah.

A soft puff of breath leaves Nanami’s lips as your ass brushes against his cock, the hard length rubbing up against the cleft. His grip tightens on your hand, and you can feel his responding shudder. He quickly moves his hips back again, keeping his chest pressed up against you instead.

You smile to yourself, a touch wryly. Nanami wasn’t easily worked up, and certainly not in tender moments like this. You can’t help but wonder if this is the product of just the proximity, or something more.

“I’m flattered that my sleepy morning self has this effect on you,” you drawl, a layer of amusement in your tone that you can’t quite shed.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, as if he has anything at all to apologise about. “I…”

You feel his lips open against the skin of your neck, but he shuts them again. That makes you raise an eyebrow, your eyes blinking open to squint against the steamy bathroom. You try to angle your head to get a look at him, but the angle is difficult. When you try to turn your body to face him properly, however, his arms tighten around your waist, preventing you from doing so.

It wasn’t like Nanami to be this… reserved. Not this far into your relationship.

“Nanami?”

Another gush of air flutters against your wet shoulder, something close to a sigh of resignation. “I dreamt about you,” he finally says, the words imprinted against your skin. “This morning.”

Ah.

A wet dream? Hardly something to be self-conscious about, you think. Especially when you were clearly the star of said dream. Nanami was always oddly prudish around certain things, however. Traditional, in some senses.

“Oh? How rude, we hardly know each other.”

You can almost feel the responding eye-roll in response to your teasing humour. He gives a small squeeze to your intertwined fingers, as if telling you to take this seriously—though you refused to. A dream was a dream, and you were less concerned with the fact he had one and more concerned with what exactly was in it.

“I’m a thirty-year-old man,” he grumbles.

“Who’s still human,” you remind him. You push your hips back again, pleased to feel Nanami’s cock still very much hard, nearly pulsing, against the swell of your ass. He exhales a slow, steadying breath, but makes no move to pull his hips away again. “Tell me about it.”

Another small sigh against your shoulder. You can practically feel his hesitation, unwilling to unveil the explicit nature of his dream just yet.

You push yourself back against him again, a slight movement of your hips that has his cock pressing a little deeper against your skin. You buy yourself a small grunt in response, a choked sound that hitches in the back of his throat.

“Come on,” you chuckle, the sound a little throaty now. Sensing he needed a little more push, you unlink your hand from his to lay atop his other one, guiding it up to cup your breast properly. “Did I at least look good?”

“Mm.” He gives your breast a small squeeze; a well-practised, perfect amount of pressure that always makes your thighs clench together. “So beautiful… as always.”

“Where were we?”

Another hesitation, though shorter this time. He occupies the time by kneading your breast slowly, massaging it almost in his calloused palm. “On a beach. It was just us. White sand, palm trees, lapping waves… the sun was so warm.”

You smile at the picture he paints in your head. “I’m sure we made it feel warmer.”

You feel a shuddering breath against the back of your neck before he hums in agreement. You can only imagine that whatever memory of his dream is replaying in his mind is a good one, because he presses his cock against you more firmly.

“Yes,” he mutters against your nape, before pressing a hungry, hot, open-mouthed kiss against the skin there. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

By the way he’s groping at your breasts and ever-so-subtly grinding his hips against your ass, you would say you have a general idea. You want to press him for more details on his dream. What did you do to rile him up so? What did he do in the dream to make him pursue you to the shower when he awoke?

All those thoughts and questions are disappearing from your mind, however, as the hand against your navel is drifting down between your thighs. Your lips part in a soft exhale as he cups your heat, his middle finger running down your slit almost teasingly, smearing the dripping shower water along with your own arousal.

Another shuddering breath fans against your neck as he dips his middle finger between your folds. “You were so wet, so tight around me,” he whispers, his words almost swallowed up by the sound of the shower and your own heartbeat in your ears. “It was maddening. I… I couldn’t stop.”

He circles your clit once, causing your hips to twitch and a soft moan to leave your lips, before he dips his finger down, pressing it against your entrance before sinking inside. You both seem to moan simultaneously as your inner walls clench tight around his thick digit.

“You were so…” He swallows thickly around another groan. “…loud. Insatiable.”

In, out, in, out. He thrusts slowly, languidly, as if savouring every contraction, every syrupy moan that left your plush lips. Slick gathers quickly, and before long the sound of his thrusting finger becomes wetter and wetter. A second finger soon joins the first, his palm pressing against your clit as his ministrations quicken, your thighs shaking in response. The steam of the shower, the heat of Nanami at your back, the fog of lust in your mind and the increasing pulse between your legs—it makes your head swim, your mind hazy and uncoordinated.

He curses as you grip his fingers particularly tight, as if imagining the sensation around his cock instead. You feel a pressure against your nape, and you dully realise it's his forehead, hot and wet with sweat and water. “Please,” he murmurs, his low voice hot and wanting. “Can I have you? Here?”

Even after all this time, he still asked—still cared enough to ask—even though your answer was always the same.

“God, yes,” you’re replying before he’s barely finished his question, every thought in your mind evaporating into the same steam swirling around you.

You’re leaning forward, arching your back before he even makes any move to position you, both of your palms resting against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. Shower water sprays across your shoulders and the back of Nanami’s neck as his head follows your descent, forehead now planted between your shoulder blades. His fingers don’t stop their ministrations, but his other hand does disappear from your breast. A moment later, you gasp as you feel his fingers slip from you—replaced instead by a familiar pressure.

His cock, thick and heavy, presses against you, hesitating for only a moment before pressing forward slowly. The thicker head slips past the tight ring of muscle with a sharp stretch, your lips falling open in response as a ragged moan leaves you. No matter how many times you had done this, Nanami’s cock was always a stretch, making each time seem like the first all over again.

“God,” he gasps, his jaw falling open against your shoulder blade. “P-Perfect… so perfect.” You can feel him practically shaking with restraint as he pushes forward slowly, oh-so-fucking-slowly, until his hips finally meet your rear. As always, he gives you a moment to adjust, no matter how wound up or turned on he is—his one hand bracing against the wall near your own, the other winding back around your waist to circle your clit with slow, languid movements.

You’re shaking too, you realise, hands slipping on the wet shower wall. You clench tight around his cock despite his attempts to relax you, too wound up and dizzy with arousal to care about the discomfort. Bucking your hips back, you try to press him impossibly deeper, as if you weren’t already full of him.

He groans at the attempt though, the slight friction you grant him causing his fingers to stutter against your bud. Quickly getting the hint, he pulls back just a few inches before sinking back into you again, just as slowly as before. You both moan again at the delicious drag, before he starts to set a slow, steady rhythm—pulling out a little deeper every time until the tip threatens to slip from you with each thrust.

You had expected something quick, frantic perhaps. The dream he had seen had clearly riled him up. But Nanami was still Nanami—slow and methodical, passionate and loving.

Long, hot puffs of breath fan against your neck, matching the slow, sensual rhythm of his hips against you. You can feel his eyebrows knitted against your back, and in your mind's eye, you can already picture his expression perfectly. Flushed skin on his high cheekbones, the sweat on his brow, the slight scrunch of his eyes and parted lips.

Every thrust pushes deep, his slow pace ensuring that you felt every inch of each push until he bottomed out, only to repeat the whole cycle once more. His hand on the wall slips, bumps against your own, and with trembling fingers he places it on top of yours, pinning it against the wall before intertwining your fingers tightly.

“I love you,” he groans, his voice thick and gravelly. “I love you, ngh—“ He pushes deep again, stills for a moment as he grinds against you, before withdrawing again. “I love you so much.”

You meet his every thrust, pushing your hips back until your skin meets his with a satisfying ‘pap’. The slow, deep pace is driving you insane, deliciously perfect and yet wildly maddening. You can feel the heat pool in your gut with every stroke, the warmth blooming hotter and hotter like the slow lap of waves, threatening to consume you.

You’re greedy, you know. You need more.

You push your hips back in a quicker rhythm and Nanami’s hips stutter in response, his rhythm thrown off. He hisses, clenched teeth brushing against your nape. The fingers on your clit disappear, a strong hand grasping the plush flesh around your hip instead, steadying you. You expect him to stop you or slow your rhythm down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stops thrusting altogether, allowing you complete control of the pace as you fuck yourself on him.

He’d always allow you to take what you wanted from him.

“Ah, y-yes, yes—“ you pant, forehead pushing forward to rest against the cool tile. You tilt your hips, angling Nanami’s cock to prod against the exact spot you need him. He curses in response to the harsh clench of your walls around him, his hips bucking forward involuntarily. “Kento—“

“Tell me what you, ngh, need,” he grits out, now matching your rhythm until the clap of your flesh starts to match the pour of the water. The hand on your hip slides up, caressing your waist in loving strokes before winding around, palming at your breast again. “A-are you close?”

“Yes!” You start to push back harder, more frantically. Nanami instantly matches it, thrust for thrust, the head of his cock dragging against your sensitive point with almost pin-point accuracy. He pinches, tweaking your nipple in a way that makes your thighs shake. “Harder, I need it—“

You don’t even have to say another word before both of Nanami’s hands disappear, only to grip your hips tightly. You feel the warm of his chest leave your back as he straightens, replaced by the spray of the shower water instead. A moment later, his pace becomes almost punishing, the hard lines of his Adonis belt hitting against the flesh of your rear with a smack.

You practically reel, something guttural and primal leaving your lips as you arch forward, bracing fully against the tiled wall in front of you. You can feel your flesh ripple, your breasts jolting with the wet smack of flesh against flesh. Even now, he’s careful never to push harder than you need it, but experience and attention allows him to get it perfect. He was always perfect.

A chorus of ‘just like that’ and ‘yes’ leaves you in a symphony, your eyes rolling and eyelids fluttering simultaneously. It doesn’t take long until you're practically clamping down on his cock like a vice, your lower stomach clenching impossibly tight as ragged, fractured moans tear from your lips. Distantly, you wonder if you’re as loud as you were in his dream—or maybe louder.

Nanami doesn’t fair any better, harsh grunts and choked groans leaving in him in rhythm with the clap of his hips. With each thrust, it seems his body hunches further inward until he’s practically curled over you, his grip tightening on your hips, thumbs digging into your skin. Deep moans smother against your shoulder as lathers you with kisses, half-formed praises coating your skin with his love.

“I’m close, my l-lo-“ He chokes up, curses, hips stuttering as he tries to maintain the hard pace. He starts pulling your hips back to meet his, cock plunging seemingly deeper and deeper—

Stars are exploding behind your eyes a second later, your abdomen clenching and rolling as you cum hard around him. You call out his name, you think, jaw falling slack as Nanami continues to thrust and thrust you through your climax, pushing you toward oversensitivity and fast. You’re clenching down on him tighter and tighter, unable to stop as you babble nonsensically, delirious and drunk on steam and release.

“S-Shit,” he hisses, his voice barely there, just breathless and torn. “So b-beautiful, so perfect, I love you, I love—“

A second later, Nanami’s following you over the edge; a deep, broken moan leaving him as his cock twitches and throbs, spilling into you. He continues to move, his hips erratic and rhythm broken, just bucking disjointedly as his voice cracks and splinters.

You’re trembling, he’s trembling, both of you panting and moaning weakly as Nanami continues to grind against you, albeit slowly. You rest your forehead against the cool tile in front of you for a moment, your hot breath making the ceramic fog up—before Nanami’s arms wind around your waist, pulling you back up and against his chest.

Your thighs are shaking, body nearly limp in his arms, but he supports you once more easily. Soft kisses and brushes of his nose rain down against the crook of your neck as his hand brushes up and down your stomach, his cock still throbbing weakly inside your warm grip. You let your head loll back against him, a tired, contented smile on your lips.

You reach a hand up and behind you, fingers fumbling for a moment before his head leans into them. You card your fingers through the short, wet strands behind his ear, a small sigh fluttering against your ear in response.

“We should shower together more often,” you murmur, which earns you a small, slightly breathless chuckle, the rumble of his chest vibrating against your back.

Eyelashes flutter against your neck as he closes his eyes. “We should.”

“In the evening though,” you add. Between the hot water and well, everything else, your body was sated but drained. “I really could fall asleep now.”

The idea of stepping out of the warmth of the shower and Nanami’s embrace only to get dressed and continue with whatever you had planned for the day wasn’t an appealing one. As if sensing this, his arms hold you tighter, unwilling to break the moment, or your intimate connection, just yet.

“Then do,” he murmurs against your ear, before pressing a soft kiss to the shell. “I’ll take you back to bed.”

And you know he would. You know that if you were to fall limp in his arms right now, he’d carry you; dry you off and settle you amongst the sheets again as if you’d never left them. It wouldn’t even be a question.

You stay awake though, body still thrumming with remnants of your connection and your muscles at ease. Tilting your head slightly, capturing a glimpse of his profile, you raise an eyebrow.

“…so?”

Nanami meets your gaze, raising an eyebrow in turn. “So?”

“Was it as good as your dream?”

He closes his eyes with a tormented sigh, burying his nose back into your skin. “…it always is.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief, angling your head to try and face him better despite him seemingly burying his face in your skin deeper, unwilling to meet his gaze. “Always?! How many dreams have you had about me like this?”

You feel a small nip at your neck, just a brush of teeth really, but that seems to tell you that these ‘dreams’ of his were far more a regularity than the stoic sorcerer was willing to let on.

masterlist.

#kento nanami x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami #kento nanami

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neko-naruto · 1 year ago

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from hero to the hunted

Summary: a brief glance into the ways John Dory coped with the isolation, and how the hell a Pop Troll managed to survive for twenty years in the mountains

Warnings: gutting a massive fish (it gets a bit gross), grieving, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I've been thinking of how in the fuck he survived out there in isolation since I saw the movie, now I've written about it so I can sleep easy at night. anyways! hope ya'll enjoy and if you do consider dropping a reblog or checkin the ao3 port, it really means a lot

"It's just me and my armadillo now, I guess," John Dory said, out loud, too himself, even though no one else existed in this empty forest. It was just him and his armadillo, which he was going to kill for meat, but chose against it when he realized she was sort of... Hollow.

She didn't have any meat, she was just an exterior, why she was like that he didn't know. And he would've left her alone, forever, but she decided to nuzzle up against his leg and chirp at him and he couldn't deny that. Only a monster would deny that, so he picks her up and starts on his way to carry her through the woods so she doesn't step on anything sharp.

It's kind of stupid, adopting an armadillo for no reason other than 'she looked at me and made sound' but he's a big brother. He's the oldest brother, he's spent his entire life before leaving being the caretaker. Their parents just paid attention to each of them equally and it didn't feel like enough, so he decided to start taking care of his little brothers too. Packing lunches, doing laundry, just being as good a brother as he could be before the band started.

And now it's been four years since he left, he's twenty one and he's probably going a little bit crazy with the isolation. Just a little bit nutty, a minuscule amount of absurd with how much he hasn't interacted with anyone or anything in years. Maybe that's why he's picking up this little creature and carrying her around like she's his little sister. He needs a placeholder to fill that void of a little creature in his life, that'll fend off the depression if nothing else.

"I'm gonna call you Rhonda," John stated as he placed her down on a log and started on foraging on some small twigs and slightly larger rocks for a fire pit.

Rhonda just chirps in response.

-/-/-/-

"I think it's a big one!" There's a laugh on his voice as reels in dinner for the night. It fights, thrashing and kicking up a massive splash of water every which way.

Rhonda is quick to amble over and bite the back of his vest tugging him just a bit whenever he lurches forward. Step by step she slowly pulls him back while keeping the cord from snapping with the tautness of it.

"Thanks girl, I'll save you the liver," John promises, it elicits a purring chirrup from Rhonda. He yanks the rod one last time and the fish is in the air, falling down to the ground in seconds, "Hold it down for me."

The armadillo does as told, pressing one paw on the tail fin to keep it down despite it's writhing. She bats it once or twice with her other paw while John grabs his knife, although it's more of a cutlass compared to the size of his body. He drives it through the eye and holds it until the fish stops moving, Rhonda steps back, resting on hind legs as John works.

He works smoothly really, digging the tip of the knife into the tender underbelly of the fish and running it up to the base of the jaw. Blood is minimal, but it still drips from the frayed flesh as he pops on his goggles. He takes a deep breath before diving into the complete and utter darkness. It's dripping with whatever rests inside of a fish's organ cavity and it used to make him feel like vomiting, but that was a long time ago, back when he could still carry Rhonda in his arms.

It's a pulsing and oozing mess, but he persists, cutting the cords and just hauling them out like they're anything but organs. He takes extra care with the liver and tosses it to Rhonda specifically before sliding out and moving onto cutting off the head.

"I hope you like that liver, this guy was living offa swamp scum," John commented as he lopped off the head, severing the spine with a practiced ease to his motions.

He's twenty seven now, ten years into his isolated life in the mountains and the forests and the swamps. He doesn't know how much longer he's gonna stay out there for either, he's probably a freak to the average Troll society now. He's happy here anyways. He has Rhonda, he has his sword, he has a group photo of him and his brothers before everything went wrong.

He's absolutely odd these days, positively so, talking a shocking amount of thoughts that enter his head. Eating whatever plants don't look poisonous and having Rhonda hit him with those defibrillator paws if he passes out from said plant. Cutting open giant fish and other assorted creatures that he comes across. He can store most of his stuff inside of Rhonda anyways, he could sleep in her if he wanted too, but the nights are never cold enough he has to leave her alone at night.

"Hey girl, can you get a fire going for me?" He asked rather loudly as he worked on trying to wedge some of the bones from delicate fish flesh. It was a tedious process but he'd rather do so than risk Rhonda choking on some bones.

There's a loud rumbling purr before Rhonda walks off to get some sticks.

-/-/-/-

It's a bad night, age thirty and he's spending another night laying awake thinking of his brothers and he left them. He thought he dropped this habit on his sweet, sweet twenty sixth birthday where he found an abandoned barrel of lager. He drank himself into a waking coma that night and came too about a week later, semi naked and covered in tinsel and hay. He still shudders to learn where that tinsel came from, but even more so about where the fuck the hay came from.

He's sleeping inside of Rhonda that night, the cold bite of winter air too much for him to bear. He's stuck staring at the ceiling with his few mementos of what his brothers were lay beside him plastered to a wall. He knows they've changed by now, for fucks sake, he's changed, albeit, probably for the worse considering how feral he is. He eats meat, he's always on the run from some monster, he talks to his armadillo van, he definitely wouldn't be able to just assimilate back into society.

John heaves a sigh, tears are hot on his face and his body shudders as he exhales. He misses his brothers. He misses the nights he'd spend falling asleep nestled against Spruce cause he stressed too hard over the song line ups, or he worried too much about his brothers in one way or another. He misses having Floyd there to try and calm down, he regrets not listening to his younger brothers worries and soothing words. He misses all the jokes and the choreography that Clay would carefully craft for them, he misses their secret handshake. He misses Spruce, he misses Floyd, he misses Clay, he (somewhat) misses Branch.

He doubts they miss him, he broke the one law of eldest sibling: never leave you baby brothers. He shattered it, he ran off to the mountains and he's been in said mountain for thirteen years hiding and scavenging. He left, he abandoned them to go be 'brolone' and he's experiencing a intense wave of regret again when he was sure he was over it.

"This is fucking stupid,"

He's an idiot, he thought he'd be fine alone. He adopted an armadillo, he killed her parents, her siblings, he killed all of them and took her in to replace his brothers. He can't go alone, he's not built like that. There's no more stress to keep all of his pieces together, he's gotten so comfortable in the mountains the wilderness fear has gone down too much to act as a substitute.

John just rolls onto his side, away from where his few memorabilia of his brothers exist. Out of side out of mind. He's crying because he lost his favorite vest to the woods, not because he lost his brothers due to his own hubris. Definitely not, and maybe if he tells himself that lie enough times he'll believe it.

#trolls fanfic #trolls band together #john dory trolls #rhonda trolls #trolls 3 #he deserves to go a little bit peculiar with the isolation. a little bit feral. to gut some massive fish.#writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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izzys-frantic-fanfics · 7 months ago

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welcome to our twisted spine

this blog is just somewhere for our friend group to keep our frantic fanfic creations categorized. if you find something here you enjoy, great! if u find these funny, follow! do whatever! we're just here for a nice time

here's how our tagging system works;

AUTHOR tags will tell you who worked on which fic. these tags will also be used when posting art created by a particular author from our group! these are as follows:

#author sam

#author kauria

#author mims

#author lera

#author penn

#author ehl

#author heiko

#author H [PLACEHOLDER]

MOD tags will tell you who made the post (but this person may not always be the author of the fic/art/whatever else!) these are currently as follows:

#mod sam

#mod mims

each post will be tagged with the characters and fandoms related to that post. additionally, we will use these extra tags for other stuff:

#ask - for asks, if we ever get any

#creations - for art and other stuff related to the insane shit we decide to write

#ramblings - for posts unrelated to our fics, and just ppl yapping about who knows what

#suggestive - for any post that gets a little raunchy

#NSFW - for any post that gets outright NSFW, but you could have guessed as much

#mod sam #pinned post #frantic fanfic #LET THE MADNESS BEGIN #art at the top of the post was made by author penn!

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omniblades-and-stars · 3 months ago

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WIP WORD GAME

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of that word.

I was tagged by @commander-krios and my word was TRUTH. I managed to find all of these from the WIP that has the placeholder name of Holding Onto Hell.

T - The ground beneath his feet was coated in thick, oily, blue-gray ooze. It burned his nostrils like too much ammonia.

R - Rotten fucking bastard.

U - “Up and at ‘em, Skipper,” Ashley said quietly, crouching in the rubble near Jane’s face.

T - They walked in the mausoleum of a cruel and uncaring god, disturbing its rest.

H - He seemed quite content to just stand there and watch Jane prepare to make an enormous ass out of herself.

Tagging: @teamdilf, @sparatus, and @thetrashbagswasteland, your word is (hold please while I go to the old faithful random word generator...) COMEDY.

#thanks for the tag!#this is my tag game tag now #daisy screaming into the void #h2h

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autistic-partisan · 4 months ago

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#stimabc: a single word stimboard prompt list (wip)

if anyone wants to do this: prompts can be interpreted as broadly or strictly as you want. feel free to change any of them for yourself, the only important part is that you have a one word prompt corresponding to each letter. you dont have to credit me, but if you tag me here or @nanmo-wakaran i can reblog your boards (i only reblog to the latter blog. i won't reblog boards that don't properly credit their gif sources, or if i am in op's dni. anyone can join tho i don't think this is a super original idea)

a is for alien

b is for blood

c is for clear

d is for dragon

e is for egg

f is for fly

g is for ghost

h is for hero

i is for ice

j is for jelly

k is for key

l is for love

m is for meme

n is for neon

o is for occult

p is for pink

q is for quiet

r is for rose

s is for science

t is for train

this is kind of a placeholder so that i can link it now and just update this when i have a full prompt list.

#to edit #🌒 monologues #stimabc

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bullet-prooflove · 2 years ago

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WITSEC Part 2: Alone - Will Halstead x Reader

Prequel: Moments

Part One: Got You

Tagging: @daniacat @misscharlielulu @cosmic-psychickitty @tonio-dawson @brianbabygirlzvonecek @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @ikbenplant @gummybabey @rosaliedepp @annieradcliff @mrspeacem1nusone @sowrongitslottie @readingbookelf @earthtolottie @crazy4chickennuggets @cixrosie @halsteadloversworld @zaidatorcuatomorgado @horny-and-sad27 @oneandonlychicago @lxna-mikaelsxn @1234-angelika @wolfers-stuff @directioner5life @bradshawsdarlin @aaronhtchnrs @mysoulisasunflower @luckyladycreator2 @willhalstead-rhodes @zephyrmonkey @bluecrush129 @thespottedcreature @celilice1 @whoreforhondo

Will’s life is a chaos.

It’s not just that he’s been thrust into the Witness Protection program, it’s seeing you again after all this time. He hadn’t known that you were back, not before the shooting but now it’s all he could think about. He wonders how long you’ve been back in Chicago. He rubs his hands over his face, palms scratching over the stubble of his cheeks as he looks out of the window of his apartment in Central City, Phoenix.

It’s warm here, too warm and he hates it. He’s a Chicago boy at heart and the heat, it gets to him. He runs the AC 24/7 in a bid to get some relief from the oppressive temperature. He thinks the electric bill will drive the FBI crazy and he takes a sick sense of satisfaction in it.

He knows he has left a mess back in Chicago. He sees the images flipping through his head like some obscene scrapbook.

Natalie crying her heart out on the steps of the church, hands clasped over her heart as she begs for him to explain.

You outside the warehouse, silent and dutiful with smudges of Tim’s blood marring your skin from where Will had touched you with copper-stained fingertips.

The disparity wasn’t lost on him.

Two different women.

One that he was technically still engaged too.

And the other…

A woman he was so frighteningly in love with, it felt like he was being ripped apart all over again when he was put on that plane to Phoenix. The connection the two of you had, it was forged on a deeper level than anything else he’d ever known and that hadn’t changed in your absence, he was a fool to think it had.

After a month trapped here in Arizona, he could see that Natalie had only ever been a placeholder. He had still been hurting. Their first kiss only two months after you’d left. He had still been feeling your absence acutely.

It had started casual, a couple of drinks, then a few dates. He almost forgot about you in the hustle and bustle of his life, the world turned, patients came and went. He was in a good space, looking forward to becoming a husband, and a stepfather when his world imploded. The cracks he had papered over began to show. The foundations of their relationship had been rocky to begin with, he just hadn’t realised how much until he looked back.

There were red flags, little things he should have realised that were indicators of problems to come. Like telling him to shave his beard because she hated it, sneaking out in the early hours of the morning before Owen woke up. Each and very compromise chipped away at his self-esteem because in his heart he knew he wasn’t good enough, but the problem was Will Halstead wasn’t a quitter. He kept on trying to please Natalie, to make things perfect, because perfection was what she desired and living up to that standard meant that she wouldn’t leave him.

When he got caught up with the Burkes and the FBI he had lied. He had kept it all a secret, tried to deal with it himself, because the whole thing, it would have been too much for Natalie. He had done what he could to protect her, and it had all come crumbling down.

He knew it would have been different if it was you. He would have come to you straight away, he would have told you everything, the two of you would have figured it out. Instead, he was here alone in an apartment in Arizona, contemplating all the wrong turns he had taken up until this point.

He should have gone with you to Virginia, but he’d just taken the attending job at Chicago Med and his mentor Doctor Rowan’s health had been declining. It wasn’t the right time. You had understood that.

These thoughts, they went around his head in circles driving him crazy. He was stuck in stasis and the world was carrying on without him. There was no determination of how long he would be here, his life was essentially on hold. He couldn’t progress, he couldn’t move on. He was simply stuck in the moment.

Throughout the day he managed to keep his anxiety under control, but it was always there writhing like a leviathan in the pit of his stomach. At night it was worse. When he did sleep, he dreamt of Tim Burke pulling the trigger, the gunshot reverberating throughout his body as crimson blossomed across his shirt. He could see the smoke from the gun, taste the cordite in his mouth, feel the bullet burrowing into his flesh. He always woke with a jolt, a racing heart and empty lungs as he stared at the cracks in the recently painted ceiling. Sometimes he reached out for you. It was an instinctual, visceral need, a comfort he sought out during his deepest strife.

It broke his heart when his hand hit cool sheets anf he realised you weren’t there, that no one was.

Big Fan of Will! Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#WITSEC!Will #will halstead imagine #will halstead x reader #will halstead #will halstead x you

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scaryscarecrows · 1 year ago

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Antoine: Highly praiseworthy, priceless one. Antoine is named entirely for an officer of Napoleon, though he developed his ride-or-die tendencies later.

Frank: Free. I was thinking of M*A*S*H at the time, though given that 'Frank' is a family name for him (the first Frank was the first landowner in their family!) that...fits well.

Mark: Warlike. (Many Marks I have known are dickish. Maybe that's why.) Mark is a placeholder name for me, it's just this time, it stuck.

Trent: The flooder. 'Trent' just seemed like a good name for a Big Dude.

Jimmy (James): the supplanter. Line of sight, guys. I was literally looking at my Captain America/Winter Soldier Pops at the time.

Riley: either 'woods clearing' or 'courageous/valiant'. I just liked the name, but honestly, the second one fits.

Kitty (Katrina): pure. No. Kitty's name was chosen in conjunction with Jonathan Crane's--if he's named for Ichabod, she's named for Katrina. Literary Katrina dodged a bullet, though. Ten kids and moving out west? FUCK that.

Dove: bird of peace. Dove's name was chosen for two reasons: one, to fit in with Oswald's fondness for birds and two, because 'soiled dove' is old-timey slang for 'sex worker', her old job and a massive shaping force of her life today.

Not mine, but still fun:

Jonathan: gift from God. UH-UH. He is a scourge unto your home, as is his right.

Jason: healer. Maybe? He healed Bruce, a little, from being overly angsty without Dick around. And then look what happened, so I don't know.

Tagging anyone who wants it, because I'm doing this right before work and I gotta cruise!

OC Name Meanings

I've done this before agessss ago, and I have since added some OCs so I figured I would do an updated version!

Rules: Share your OC's full name and the meaning/origins behind it. Then (if you'd like) include any insights or symbolic meanings about their name you wish to share, or just your reasons for giving them the name that you did!

Please note that I am not a name expert, and most of these origins and meanings were found through simple internet searches, so apologies if any of them are wrong!

Tagging: @cillmequick @moral-terpitude @red-riding-wood @shelbydelrey @rysko @brummiereader @peakyswritings @look-at-the-soul @runnning-outof-time @cassieuncaged @peakyltd @call-sign-shark @zablife @scaryscarecrows and anyone else who would like to participate!

Lucy Josephine Winters (Peaky Blinders)

Lucy Origin: Latin Meaning: light, light bringer

When choosing Lucy's name, I was looking for something that would fit with the time period, but also had a modernness to it, since Lucy is a very modern woman for her time. I've loved the name for a long time, so it was an easy choice. I also really loved the meaning of "light bringer," since she very much is a continued source of happiness for Tommy throughout the series, and generally has a very warm, bright presence. I also liked the little nod towards Lucifer in her name! (Had I not already had an OC named Lily, I would have considered using that as well as a reference to the demon Lilith, who Lucy in many ways parallels).

Josephine Origin: Hebrew Meaning: Jehovah increases

I'm gonna be completely honest here, I picked this name primarily because I liked the way it flowed with her first and last name, and it fit in the time period her series takes place in. It also felt like the type of name her father, a deeply religious man, would have chosen to give her. He wanted it to be her first name, but her mother convinced him to use it as a middle name since her heart was set on naming her daughter Lucy.

Winters Origin: German, Dutch Meaning: winter, cold season

I've been in love with this surname since I first started making OCs as a kid, and I was ecstatic to finally get the chance to use it. I wanted something that would connect Lucy to nature, and I particularly like the imagery that her surname invokes, and how the harsh cold of winter somewhat offsets the softness of her first name. Lucy certainly has a softness and warmth to her, but she can also be cold and incredibly merciless, particularly to her enemies. At the same time, there is a beauty to winter, despite the cold, that I think also fits Lucy and her unique, almost untouchable beauty well.

Vanessa Charlotte Sullivan (The Dark Knight Trilogy)

Vanessa Origin: English Meaning: butterfly

I love the name Vanessa so much, and she was very much the type of character who popped into my head more or less fully formed, name and all. I liked the amount of nickname options it gave me, and the symbolism of the butterfly fits very well with her transformation at the beginning of her series, from an innocent, abused child into a psychopathic serial killer.

Charlotte Origin: French Meaning: free man, petite

The symbolism of this name was just too good to pass up: Vanessa is very free and wild in her inhibitions, and also very tiny (don't tell her I said that, though; she might stab me). I also think it's very chic-sounding, and Vanessa very much cuts a classy figure, especially during her time as a psychiatrist at Arkham.

Sullivan Origin: Gaelic, Irish Meaning: hawk eyed, little dark eyed one, dark eyes

Again, the symbolism here was just perfect. Vanessa's dark eyes are a very important feature, as is the way she is able, through seemingly just a simple glance, to understand so much about a person. Her observation skills are part of what makes her such a good scientist and doctor, and such a dangerous adversary should you end up on her bad side.

Alice Claire Emerson (Inception)

Alice Origin: German, French Meaning: noble, exalted

Alice is, despite her quiet nature, very brave, but I mainly chose this name because I liked to connection to Alice in Wonderland which I felt to be very fitting considering her work in dream sharing.

Claire Origin: French Meaning: bright, clear

Like with Lucy, Alice has a very warm presence about her. She's fun and sweet and just brightens any room she enters. She's Robert's primary source of love and happiness, and I liked how the meaning of this name conveys that.

Emerson Origin: English Meaning: brave, powerful, child of Emery

Emerson just flowed well with her first and middle name. It's another one of those surnames that I just have always liked the sound of, so I jumped at the opportunity to use it.

Daisy Meredith Preston (Dunkirk)

Daisy Origin: English Meaning: daisy, day's eye

Daisy is practically the embodiment of sunlight, which daisies are strongly associated with symbolically. Her warm, calming presence is part of what makes her such a good partner for Henry (the Shivering Soldier). I also used @henry-wilson's headcanon that Henry is a botanist, and therefore wanted to give the OC I planned to pair with him a flower name to connect to him in that way.

Meredith Origin: Welsh Meaning: great ruler

This is one where I actually focused more on the origin rather than the meaning. Daisy is from Wales, and so I wanted at least one out of her first and middle names to reflect that. I also felt that it flowed well with her first and last names, and fit the time period her series takes place in.

Preston Origin: English Meaning: priest, son of priest, farmstead

I didn't take the meaning of this name all that much into account when choosing it; mainly this was all about how nicely I felt it flowed with her first name. But considering her role in helping Henry along in his recovery after the events of Dunkirk, I suppose you could consider her almost a holy or redemptive figure in some ways.

Rosemary "Rose" Eleanor Mason (In Time)

Rosemary Origin: Latin Meaning: dew of the sea

Rose's full first name was really just a way to get to the nickname Rose.

Rose Origin: Latin Meaning: rose

In case you couldn't tell already, I'm a sucker for flower names. I love them so much, and I was just dying to use the name Rose because it's one of my all time favorites. Rose is spunky and a bit more rough around the edges than some of my other OCs, so I felt the imagery of a rose with thorns fit her very well!

Eleanor Origin: French Meaning: light hearted, shining light

This was picked less for symbolic reasons, and more just for flow with the first and last name.

Mason Origin: French, English Meaning: stoneworker

Rose comes from a very poor upbringing, and I liked how this surname reflected that. It also continued to represent her work as a Timekeeper, even after her escape from poverty, as she continues hard labor that it often just as difficult as trying to carve into stone.

Lily Elizabeth Callaghan (Platoon)

Lily Origin: Greek, Latin, English Meaning: lily, pure

This is one of favorite names of all time, so of course I gave it to my first official OC. The delicacy, both in the sound of the name and the imagery it encourages, works very well with Lily. She truly is in many ways a fragile, pure flower.

Elizabeth Origin: Hebrew Meaning: God's promise, God is my oath

Elizabeth is another name I really liked, and I always thought it would make a pretty middle name. I debated making it Lily's first name, since Lily can be a nickname for Elizabeth, but I ultimately made it her middle name. I admittedly didn't pay much attention to the name's meaning when I picked it; I just thought it was pretty.

Callaghan Origin: Irish Meaning: bright headed, contention, strife

To offset the extreme softness and fragileness of Lily, I gave her the surname Callaghan which, while maintaining the theme of softness throughout the name, has a bit more bite in its meaning. I liked the contrast between the meanings of "bright headed" and "strife" which I think does a good job symbolizing Lily's opposing natures. Lily is a warm, sweet person, but she's also a little standoffish and shy to an extreme that can come across as cold. The meaning of "strife" helps to convey some of her internal struggles.

#taggity tag #the squad #kitty richardson #dove marquis #scaryverse

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lunarblazes · 3 years ago

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i cannot stress enough how little of grian's episode was s3 related. i literally cannot. it was one single sentence. i heard the sentence and blacked out i cannot remember anything after that

#grian #hermitcraft #placeholder s3 tag #h #hhhhhhhhh

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look-at-all-these-ocs · 3 years ago

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Void lad :]

#technically they are just a Placeholder. Was sketching out a species sheet for them h-#sorry I haven’t been posting that much ]:>#im been drawing stuff I’m either shy about showing or just- d&d stuff (and I feel uncomfortable posting other’s characters and being unable #to credit them <:/)#idk why but they don’t seem unique design wise ]:#hfhfhfhfh- sorry for being negative in the tags. Growing more nervous about sharing my art for some reason h-#my art #digital Art #i should probably tag the rest but h-#this is nothing to big anywho h-#scar tw #wound tw #Ask to tag

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clannfearrunt · 5 years ago

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I said that the jpn au kraken duo don’t interact with plot but I did just have a vivid vision of a Koma Interaction

he relies too much on his victims being Good and going with the flow he sets. It would be a shame if someone showed up that did things Their Own Way

#''u must answer me my riddles thr-'' ''no.'' ''......h''#Placeholder AU tag #this is a ded design peek. mspaint mouse drawing version bc im on the wrong computer #Squid 2 the evolution of the squid #Conarts #MS Pain

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illegallyexisting · 6 months ago

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OHHH H HEHEHEHEHEEGEBHEBEHEHHE

im gonna flipflop between Into The Descent and Boring Days heeheheh

(ITD) Daedalus: I dont exactly know what I was doing, but i was scrolling through Behind The Name and ended up finding out that "Daedalus" means something along the lines of "cunning worker" or something with the word cunning and doing something

(ITD) Mangrove, Isles, and Roots: They are all respectively named after the continents they rule over, but their real names (in that of which I cannot say) are all named after religious/mythological figures that fit their personalities :)

(ITD) Marguerite Garr: She's actually named after Marguerite Baker from Resident Evil 7 lmao

(BD) Hopper: I was sitting and thinking of a new concept for a ghost and decided on "Hopper" after making the simple realization that it REALLY likes to hop around in other people's bodies and possess them.

(ITD) Pretty much everyone in the Garr family (minus Irving and Marguerite): Everyone has the same running gag of their names having two rr's in their name! Garrett, Forrest, Farris, Dorris, Vierra, and Carrie.

(BD) Clyde and Vincent: They're named after Clyde Lankmann and Dr. Lankmann of (old lore) DOAI! It's my favorite analog horror series and (besides it being my main kick to start Into The Descent) I wanted to make a really obvious reference to it :))

(BD) Mason and Eric: Those were actually supposed to be placeholder names, but after awhile and not asking anyone for better names i decided to keep them! fun fact their last names are complete gibberish :3

(ITD) Laurel Aydan: Theres a mall nearby me and I so happened to think of it at the right time of creating this character!

(BD) Demi Loh: I got her full name from the Sims 4 when I was first creating Boring Days.

(BD) Raymond and Zachary: Their original names were just straight up Ray and Zach, but after a long time I kept constantly forgetting Zach's name, so i decided to make his name longer and then followed suit for Raymond. They also have another name gag where their middle names are shorter then their first and vice versa for Eric (Raymond Arin, Zachary Chaz, and Eric Frederick).

(ITD) Mills Wallace: This was another chance of me thinking of something at the right time, originally Mills' name could either be spelt Mill or Mills, but I just started fully calling him Mills after a certain amount of time. This was way back in the beginning of Descent when Mills still actually some sort of a family but I wanted them to have another running gag of their first names also being common last names. Fun fact: Mills' backstory was supposed to mimic Forrest's in a way.

thats all i can think of right now!!! i have a ton of characters who's names are supposed to mean something, but i can't think of all of them right now! actually thats probably a favor because then we would be here for years ;-;

tagging @havoc-bloom :33333

✨OC Origins Name Tag Game✨

Thank you for both the tag AND the game, @pixies-love-envy ! Though, I think people will be disappointed to hear most of these are just my brain saying, “Yeah I like how that sounds”

I want to know how you came up with your original character’s names and personalities. Are they based on people in your real life? Are they straight from your brain? Are they a mix of several people?

Speaking of….

Peter Hart

So obviously “Hart” and “Heart” having a double meaning, but a “hart” is also the name of a male deer in England, and I see Peter as a handsome young buck. A leader of his pack, looks gentle enough, but will absolutely gore you with his antlers if you get too close.

And the name Peter? Brain said: “What’s a good name that Benjamin can yell in a British accent? Peter. That’ll do.” Also lots of pirates with names consisting of “Pete” (though Peter hates this nickname)

Benjamin Bartholomew

(If anyone is named Benjamin Matthias Bartholomew, I apologize in advance for what I’m about to say)

I basically asked my brain: “Pick the most pompous, pretentious, princely sounding name you can think of.” And this is what it came up with. Also his initials are BB, and he is, indeed, BB ✨

Ali

“Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves” from Scheherazade’s 1001 Nights.

Noah

The Story of Noah’s Ark (his eyes are olive-colored)

Tenshi

Japanese for “Angel”. Bro’s name is literally Angel.

Tyrell (Tyr)

Named after Tyr the Norse God of War, Heroic Endeavor, and Justice. Also “Tyrell” means “stubborn,” and he ABSOLUTELY is.

Tagging (no pressure): @fortunatetragedy (curious about Sullivan, Royston, and Khalid Abandonado), @autism-purgatory , @alinacapellabooks , @gioiaalbanoart , @wyked-ao3 , @drchenquill , @lychhiker-writes , @honeybewrites , @deanwax , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @jev-urisk ,+open tag! ✨

#ocs #writing #tag game #oc names #into the descent #Boring Days #andys ramblees

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