#so basically everything apart from actually finding fits for them rip

[dnptheinfinity]

did i procrastinate the tit sims render until now? yes. BUT i did finally find the phlonde hair for phil, i'm finally free

[arachnxphobe]

random miguel hcs

will not admit it but he has cried to multiple animated kids movies

definitely the classics like toy story 3, the iron giant, and inside out

but he also BAWLED at the end of finding nemo because he was thinking about gabriella

he thinks that toothless from how to train your dragon is cute

no i will not elaborate on that

secretly celebrates st patrick’s day

likes to wear something green under his suit or have one piece of decor hidden in the depths of his office

has really low spice tolerance BUT really likes it and also he has a reputation to keep up as the big and tough guy so he WILL try and hide how much water he is chugging

he likes the dad ice cream flavours like pistachio and rum raisin

but hates dad hobbies like golfing or collecting stuff like antique coins or dioramas

he just doesn’t have the patience for it

can cook and bake!!!! actually scratch that he can do all of the chores and is basically a househusband but is simply unwilling to do it

peter b may or may not have gotten him a kiss the cook apron that may or may not be the only apron he owns…

he could 100% have gourmet meals every day but he doesn’t have anyone to impress but himself so most days he just lives off of the sealed, pre-cooked chicken breasts from the convenience store and reheated rice that he makes in a big batch once a week

because yes chicken can be store bought but microwaved rice tastes too much like chemicals, especially for his heightened taste buds

is a shower guy

he thinks that baths are too inefficient and most tubs can’t fit him

but if you somehow manage to find one that’s big enough…oh boy he’ll act like you are waterboarding him but honestly he’s having the time of his life

competitive as hell, even when he acts like he could not care less

like he does not understand the concept of letting somebody else win, why is he handicapping himself and letting them think they’re better than they actually are?

he doesn’t mean it in a way to establish dominance or superiority

he just thinks that it’s weird to let someone win because wouldn’t lying to them be worse? now they can’t even improve

designed his own suit and probably gets a little bit self conscious when someone comments on it because he really isn’t an aesthetics guy but he worked really hard and is proud of his suit 🥺

was perhaps a little bit salty about the dark garfield comment but you didn’t hear that from me

please never trust him with naming or decorating though because if left on his own, it’s either going to be the most disgusting combination of items ever known to man or quite literally the bare minimum

don’t even think about a bed frame, there’s a chance that he doesn’t even have a mattress

he’s good with personal hygiene though

a slight germaphobe in the sense that he wants everything to be sterile (a habit he picked up from always being in the lab) but is more than okay with getting his hands dirty, just as long as he can thoroughly sanitize them afterwards

a terrible movie watcher

he either does not understand the movie whatsoever and keeps on asking questions that they just answered a minute ago

or he’s ripping them apart for their weird pseudoscience

honestly his ranting ends up being more entertaining than the movie at times

be prepared for a full lecture if you don’t stop him at some point though

i��ve heard a lot of people throw out spanish songs that they think he would listen to but might i suggest some non-spanish songs

he gives me doja cat vibes, don’t ask me, i just feel it

personally, i don’t think he would actively listen to kpop or be into the fan culture but he probably enjoys some songs without even realizing they’re kpop

i’m thinking newjeans and maybe epik high??

ABBA

mitski and hozier (where are my depressed wlw at) because you know that when he’s in his brooding self hating mood that he needs suitable bgm

HATES cruises

something about being on water does not vibe with his spider-catness

neither does the overall cruise ship experience

hot tubs and buffets just don’t really do it for him

there’s not much space for privacy except for your own room but even then the walls are fairly thin

so it’d be nearly impossible for him to get any sort of peace

me and the rest of the internet all seem to have agreed that he has insomnia and i feel like a cruise ship would not help whatsoever

would complain about how the mexican food is just what americans think mexican food is like

is too much of a workaholic to take an extended break, and it’s too difficult to jump back into work should there be an emergency

[tnc-n3cl]

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Thanks for the ask @unmaskedcardinal !

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

Well, I've been a huge Trekkie since like '93 or so and actually wrote a few stories in high school that were deep into my Trek fanfic idea (I'll explain more in a moment). So these were your typical short stories, and I edited them a lot over the years and worked on the lore stuff. Then 2005 rolls around and Star Trek: Enterprise got canceled, and I read a few script based "virtual series".

These were basically a group of fans writing and editing stories and making some art (and even a few videos with some of them) in script format and trying to release one episode every week as if they were doing a TV show. So I got it in my head to try that and started working on my Star Trek fic.

I had this plan for a long saga: Frontlines (10 years after VOY, "mini-series" lasting roughly a year), New Frontiers (12 years after Frontlines, another "mini-series"), Dark Frontiers (picks up right after New Frontiers), First Line & An unnamed series (full length series running concurrently, like 30 years or so after Dark Frontiers, don't have the exact date on hand) and finally Redemption to wrap everything up.

Those stories I wrote in high school were set during First Line, the first one actually intended for use as a season finale. Frontlines revolved around a galaxy wide conflict against the Borg, each episode focusing on two different fleets (after a couple episodes that bounce around a LOT). For example, "Battle Has Begun" focuses on the U.S.S. Archer (an Akira-class ship) assisting the Xindi in repelling the Borg (said ship's tactical officer is one Lt. Comm. Jack Archer while the XO is Comm. Tuvok) as the A Plot, while the B Plot revolves around a new Klingon ship (with Ambassador Worf aboard) helping out a Nebula-class U.S.S. Einstein who eventually aid Picard aboard the Enterprise who's working with a Romulan taskforce lead by Sela.

More or less this conflict with the Borg is to get most of the major powers of the Milky Way working together. The Borg were receiving help from Borg from an alternate quantum reality (not the Mirror Universe). Blowing up the Borg Transuniversal Gateway leads to the formation of an anomaly that Lenara Kahn does science on to form a stable wormhole to another galaxy. This is where New Frontiers picks up.

Jack Archer's captain of the Enterprise-F now and heads to this new Galaxy (the Mura Galaxy) and gets an assignment to find out what happened to a Klingon survey team, which leads to an encounter with a race that get named the Dinozons who are velociraptors that were moved off Earth by some mysterious race for mysterious reasons. Their evolution was tampered with via self-replicating nanomachines that are passed down from parent to child and effectively deactivate the humanoid program from TNG's "The Chase".

So they still look like velociraptors, and things just get weirder from there cause there were dolphin aliens, wolf aliens, and raptor (bird) aliens all fitting this mold. Oh, and they all know they're originally from Earth. They were all in this big alliance 1,000 years ago until this big galaxy wide war ripped apart the Mura Galaxy and they all drifted apart in the aftermath. Archer gets ordered to make first contact with them all, conspiracies happen, the bad guys from the war 1,000 years ago return and seal the wormhole stranding the Milky Way people in the Mura Galaxy.

That's where Dark Frontiers comes in, dealing with that whole mess. So by First Line, the Federation, Klingon, Romulan, etc. survivors had all formed an Alliance with the weird aliens and one of these Alliance ships (Excalibur) was the hero ship for the stories that I wrote in high school.

Then I drew a Stargate ship that lead to me writing Stargate: Crusade, then LoZ brain weasels started burrowing and now I've got The Realm Walker...

TL;DR I got into writing fanfiction as a coping mechanism of sorts for the cancellation of ENT. Or at the very least that's what made me really buckle down and write down the ideas that had been floating around in my brain for a decade or so.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

I have to pick a favorite?! Oh man... Um... *spins wheel* How bout this BotW themed Midna?

Well first off I love Midna so anything with her is more or less guarantied to be a fave. Love the blue glow of the Ancient Sheikah tech added to the Fused Shadow. In general I really love this artist's style (check out this kinda scary Kass or this Teba).

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Hmm... I guess an untagged kink I'm not into? Or maybe a really bad take on a character?

Writer Truth & Dare Ask Game

[monsterhunting]

Directors cut for what you thought was Steve's reaction when he realized he wasn't actually dating Nancy and Jonathan in "you can hear it in the silence"

ok so if i ever write a companion fic to you can hear it in the silence from robin’s pov — which i hopefully will one day!! — there will be a scene of her stumbling upon an upset steve in their apartment like an hour after Nancy and jonathan leave. and i have written a little bit of it, but it’s very, very rough and not fit for human eyes yet. so I’ll just recap.

so, in my mind in that scene, at first steve is having an amazing night. 10/10. he’s thinking “wow, they drove back to the city early to surprise me on Christmas??? things must be going really well.” so he makes a move only it isn’t well received, so he’s confused but he’s thinking, “shit, okay, my bad, guess it’s too soon.” and then it finally dawns on him that he’s gotten it all wrong, they’re not actually dating, that all the moments™️ the past few months were NOT moments™️ because nancy and jonathan never thought of them as moments because they didn’t think they were dating. so all this time, Steve has been the happiest he’s ever been, thinking things were looking up and his life was going great, etc etc etc, only for the rug to be ripped out from under him. and not only that, but NOW nancy and jonathan KNOW that Steve’s been thinking that they were dating the whole time. so basically he thinks he’s both embarrassed himself and ruined everything so he quickly sends them out the door so he can have a meltdown in peace

so now imagine for a second you’re robin buckley and you’ve just spent an amazing Christmas with your new beautiful girlfriend who introduced you to her super amazing family and you’re coming back to your apartment to tell your best friend all about how happy and in love you are so he can be happy for you too and you walk into your apartment to find said best friend crying like his life is over while Rudolph is playing on the tv in the background. It’s like this gif:

so of course Robin tries to ask steve what’s wrong, but one of her first thoughts is that he nancy and jonathan broke up. so steve has to explain to her that it’s even WORSE than that and they were never dating at all. and then robin has to listen as steve cries about how he was such an idiot for ever thinking they felt the same way as him and how he’s ruined everything and they won’t even want to be friends anymore after this and he loves them and he can’t lose them and he doesn’t know what to do. and robin is sitting there trying her best to comfort him, while internally going ?????? because she still doesn’t understand how the three of them aren’t actually dating when she’s seen them dating for several months now, with her own eyes.

so yes that’s basically what i think Steve’s reaction is when he realizes he is not actually dating nancy and jonathan. thank you for asking!

[yuukei-yikes]

any thoughts on remind blue?

currently, it is my favorite kagepro song (this changes like every week but i digress...) and i really want to make a pv for it but i lowkey have no idea where to start

your analysis/ramblings on things is really interesting to read and see, so also just wanted to let you know that i love all the content you post!! :D

I LOV remind blue. like every kagepro song makes me want to rip my face off ♥️♥️♥️ but this one is one of those that make me feel so strongly that i cant listen to it ♥️♥️♥️ cuz i do that btw. i cannot listen to kagepro songs without preparing myself emotionally and it has to be when i am alone in my room. i could never listen to them in public. that'd be weird. im drawing and suddenly a kagepro song comes on in my playlist and im like this is so fucked up who put this here (<- i did)

songs like summertime record, lost day hour, remind blue and ayanos theory of happiness specifically i basically never listen to because it causes something in me both mentally and physically. im normal though.

TOTALLY support the idea to make a pv!!! i wouldn't know how to start either tbh💔 who would u make it be sung by?? like the song is so good but for the lyrics im like meh like str is already a thing. idk it sorta has the same vibe. its like summertime record and lost day hour's lyrics had a little baby together. which is why i always liked to interpret it as a haruka song but fuck it ig its shintaro's.

i also liked the idea of it being seto's or hibiya's. i think they'd deserve a song like this, especially hibiya!! tho for hibiya the whole "adult" thing is different LOL and even seto, he's just 17... ive always loved haruka being the punchbag for the "im an adult wtf" feeling because he goes from living his whole life thinking he will die and then he doesn't. or well he DOES die but then comes back, and suddenly he finds himself with his whole life ahead. like haruka and his early 20s crisis abt i did NOT think id be alive this long and now i gotta deal with everything those feelings bring me but at the same time i have to pay rent and worry abt what to make for dinner soooo erm fine ig. that's also what i think lost day hour is about, i know jin describes it more like a song abt old friends but girl idk it rly only has a couple lines abt that as opposed to all the rest of the song... erm. what was i talking about again.

i just think it was rly funny how we were all like ok remind blue uses "boku" so it's seto kano hibiya or haruka (or konoha). and then jin was like hehe. shintaro♥️ SHINTARO DOESNT EVEN USE BOKU whatever im pretty sure he also said it can fit anyone and its more a general mekakushi dan song. but tbh so is summertime record sooooo. sorry im sidetracking a lot

i dont particularly care for remind blue so much (LIKE THE SONG SLAPS im still talking about lyrics) bc it's very heavy on the shit abt like growing distant and stuff sortof??? like kagepros ending/str is implied to have the mekadan not grow apart but kinda do their own thing while still meeting to hang out, bc kagepro is also about growing up and with growing up comes maybe growing distant from these friends you love, but they will always be important and one of a kind in ur life and when u meet its like time hasnt rly passed between you. not to mention the whole thing about combining eyes and how all the snakes will always end up gathering by the queen no matter what, meaning the dan will always be bound to make their ways back to each other no matter what, and are connected to one another by the literal narrative that theyre all actually sort of aware of a little bit (they always refer to their tragedy as a "story"..kagepro is a little meta lol). and like that's all so beautiful but also fuck it. they all meet for pizza nights every week. erm. the passage of time am i right

ALSO TY FOR READING MY POSTS:///3 I LOVE KAGEROU PROJECT A NORMAL AMOUNT AND IM A NORMAL PERSON

[streetslost]

how does your character prepare for bed? do they sleep at all or can they stay awake for days on end without trouble?

on the streets cat is... probably more straightforward and obvious.  when it comes to going to sleep, she doesn’t really have a set routine, as it can be affected by where she’s staying that night, who’s around her, and what she’s up to ( sometimes she does more ‘hunting’ at night - for money, items, food, etc. ).  a few things she tries to get done include: brushing her teeth ( she’s met far too many people with teeth problems on the streets... and it seems miserable and awful.  cat is lucky she’s not prone to teeth problems, and she does do her best to ensure things stay that way.  she will locate a sink, water fountain, or use water from a bottle ). ensuring she has a getaway plan.  if something happens and she needs to run... needs to be positive that she knows her best way out.  ways, preferably.  because if her top choice is blocked, she needs backups. gets a knife at the ready but hidden.  one easier to grasp than in a sheath on her back which might be difficult to twist and snag if in a bind. there isn’t much else consistent about her preparations.  just everything she can to gain as much safety and peace as possible.  she doesn’t like sharing the space with anyone if she can help it.  too vulnerable...  too potentially troublesome.  though not often does she had to worry because genuine sleep is rare. most of the time, cat exists in a half-awake state.  her eyes rest and her muscles stop moving, but her mind doesn’t much turn off.  it if does, then the nightmares creep in, and she is pulled into the swallows of terrible visions.  depending on the severity of them, her mental state, etc. there are times she doesn’t often even try to slumber.  so she has gone a few days without getting good sleep... but i wouldn’t say she can do it without trouble.  there is usually trouble and struggles that extend from such. but the suffering of lack of sleep is easier to her than dealing with the nightmares, hauntings, and paranoia that shadow her like the darkness.

in a home cat... is in a way similar and in a way different.  and it evolves/changes as she grows more comfortable or familiar with her surroundings.  i won’t ramble too in depth but i’ll touch on some of the basics that occur with her homeward bound verse because the shifts are more intriguing. when she’s first back with amy and jon, it’s safe to say she’s still on edge.  she still brushes her teeth, she still keeps a weapon near, she still checks escape routes... she is hesitant to use too many blankets because they’re smothering or could prevent her from getting out of bed quickly... the bed itself is soft and welcoming but unnerving and unusual so sometimes she sleeps on the floor.  she keeps the pillow because it helps keep her neck from aching, but her body doesn’t know how to handle a proper mattress that isn’t ripping apart and molded and such. nightmares are still prevalent, so actually sleeping is still rare.  not to mention everything going on outside of that, adding stress and weight that keeps her mind up and chugging twenty four seven...  being stressed and anxious and trying to keep herself focused on survival protects her mind from the issues and agonies that threaten to break her apart. as things start to ease, she eventually moves to the bed.  eventually learns to curl up under the covers... she still struggles to sleep, but she learns to accept comfort.  and she starts to crave it and cling to it for fear it’ll be ripped from her or she’ll be tossed out once more.  fear for her safety shifts more to the fear of abandonment.  she is on edge, guarded, and achingly tired. with proper medication getting to her system, she does eventually start finding fitful sleep.  it’s not fast nor pretty, and most nights are spent constantly waking up against terrors, sleeping very little, or not at all.  when her body and mind literally can’t take it any more and are at their breaking points ( or the right drug is given ), her sleeps are dreamless.  but a good dream is rare to never. as her trust in scott grows, as her belief she’s wanted and loved starts to slowly bud ( like a flower, it blooms occasionally and other times wilts... ), and when the two sleep together during the night, the fear, panic, paranoia, anxiety, and concerns are able to be smothered by his whole and the physical reminder of him.  scott doesn’t magically fix her sleep, but he helps.  everyone around her does.  because getting proper sleep is reinforced by the understanding that she doesn’t need to be scared about waking up to everything gone...  that one day, her entire life is just changed again. she doesn’t really have good dreams ever, but she does eventually have a sleep schedule and prefers not to stay up for days on end again as she once used to.

[rocwylde]

I need some sleep

i want to run away from my home and all my relation to my parents, I want to leave everything except my friends and cats behind I want to walk up to the CEO of my job and just rip them apart and punish them for treating their workers horribly. I want to go where no one can find me and where anyone will listen to me as if I'm an actual adult. I want to burn the buildings housing all of the law makers of my country because they refuse to care about those who aren't wealthy. I want to have the energy and spoons to do basic human tasks again and I want to be able to wake up every morning enjoying the day instead of driving an hour to get to anywhere I need to go.

I'm just so exhausted I wish I could sleep without worrying that my privacy is being invaded by my family who don't respect my boundaries. I wish I could proclaim I am anything but straight, I wish I could kiss anyone I want, I wish I could hold their hands in public, and I wish I sometimes had the gall to bite and scream at the world and tell them to solve their own problems and I wish I could take back my life from the people that want to fit me in their little image of a perfect domestic child.

I never belonged in that box. I need to get out. I'm sleepy. I need to sleep. I need to survive, I need to thrive.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.1

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Embry Call x Wolf! Reader

Warnings: very angsty, imprintee rejection, later mention of suicide

Words: 1673

Summary: It couldn't be possible. There just had to be some mistake. A werewolf couldn't possibly imprint on a vampire. . . right?

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23   Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28 Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39  Part 40 (finale)

The world seemed to grow so much brighter; colors that you had never even seen before flashed before your very eyes. Below your feet the ground shifted under you. Everything was so much different, you swore the air even tasted sweeter.

All because you met Edward Cullen.

You didn’t really know what it felt like to imprint on someone but from what Sam told you, it felt just like that. Life became sweeter.

That was for at least ten seconds before you actually realized who you had just imprinted on. A vampire. Jacob’s rival. Bella’s boyfriend.

Edward read your mind as you knew he would from Jacob, as his honey hued eyes grew large; pale face even more still.

“(y/n), you okay?” Jacob asks you as he had noticed you had gone deathly quiet. Concern really grabs at him when he observes how pale you had really become. He hadn’t wanted to take you with him to Forks. Jacob thought it was too soon to have you interact with actual vampires. You were still a young werewolf, prone to emotional outbursts and fits of rage. He feared that instinct would take over you if you smelled a vampire nearby. Bet he would have never anticipated you imprinting on one. You didn’t even think it was possible. For centuries vampires and werewolves have been at each other’s throats. Surely it would be down right impossible then for one to be your soul mate.

Mouth uncomfortably dry you look back at Jacob’s motorcycle then up to his face.. “You were right. I wasn’t ready. Can we go back?”

Jacob looked like he wanted to stay, stay and confront Edward about the vampires that had trespassed into La Push. Wanted to stay near Bella for a few moments longer. The fearful expression on your face was enough to make him give his goodbyes and head toward his bike.

Glancing over your shoulder you see that Edward is still staring at you, even when Bella starts tugging on his arm to leave.

You couldn’t look at him anymore, afraid that your heart would leap out of your chest and run to Edward.

This should have been the best day of your life. It was something all wolves wanted to find, their mate. Many in your pack still hadn’t imprinted. How could you be happy about it though? There were so many problems, not just him being a vampire.

You lamented in your room after Jacob dropped you off.

Was it because you were an anomaly? Normal werewolf males wouldn’t imprint on vampires. Females were incredibly rare though, You and Leah were basically freaks of nature. Maybe that was why, you were already a freak why not be even more weird and imprint on a vampire.

A stab of pain penetrates your body knowing Edward was already in a relationship with the mortal girl Bella Swan. The worst possible pain you had ever felt. You felt your skin tremble, the wolf in you begging to be let out and release it’s anger. The animal in you wanted to rip her apart. To sink your teeth into her lovely pale skin and tear her from limb to limb. You fought the tremors by rolling around helplessly in your bed. You tried to keep your rational thoughts together, to make them stronger than your wolf ones. Reminding yourself that they had met before you ever laid eyes on Edward. That you had never even spoken to him. It wasn’t right for you to be territorial over him. Your wolf wouldn’t allow it though. You had imprinted and that was that. There was no thinking rationally.

When you first found out you were a werewolf you had been excited. How cool was it that you could turn into a big ass wolf? The reality of it wasn’t as cool you had soon learned when your hormones got worse resulting in you bursting into a wolf when you felt the slightest bit of anger. Your poor parents didn’t know what to do.

Granted things have gotten a lot better. This though? Definitely a deal breaker. You couldn’t even choose who you ended up with. The whole wolf thing screwed you over into making you imprint on someone you never had a chance with.

There was no one you could talk to about this. The pack would find out sooner or later because of another downside of being a wolf. Pack telepathy.

What would they think of you? Surely they would treat you like a pariah. Maybe even kick you out? No, they wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t your fault. Imprinting was complete randomness. Sam knew that better than anyone. He had been dating Leah when he imprinted on her cousin Emily.

You check the clock that was on your nightstand to see what time it was. It was almost time for you to go on your watch shift. Groaning you roll out of bed and on to your feet. You wished there were more girl wolves and not just Leah. She was a major pain in the ass and a total buzzkill. You tried to excuse it as Leah having to be around her ex constantly. That excuse could only go so far though.

From your bed you move to your wooden wardrobe that was covered in little cartoon stickers from when you were little to switch your clothing to a simple tank top and shorts. You tell your parents you’ll be home later that night and head out the door.

On the outskirts of the trees you stretch your limbs before running head first into the thicket. You weren’t the athletic type before, but now there was nothing you loved more than running. You finally had the strength and energy to find running enjoyable. Even your grade in PE was improving. You had never felt so free before, not in your entire life.

You made your way through the trees all the way to Sam’s house where everyone met up. To your pack, to your new family. You hoped you’d be able to keep your imprinting a secret. At least for a little while longer.

So far so good. It was a difficult thing to keep secret for so long. You had to keep your mind a complete blank which was hard when Jared was constantly teasing you and giving you a hard time. After a while you decided to travel further away from the pack to cover more ground and break out of your wolf form to take a breather, think in your own head for a bit. Over time you learned to be comfortable in your naked form. Not the easiest feat when there were a bunch of naked guys. Naked guys with perfect abs and muscles and you were still just a flustered teenager.

Feeling the dirt on your bare human feet was always so refreshing.

You walk along a fallen log, keeping your arms out to ensure your balance you keep your ears open for any abnormal noises. It was night, of course there would be the sounds of night time animals waking up from their slumber.

The cool air kissed your naturally feverish skin as you waltzed around what had become your new home. So many hours spent roaming the forest, hearing the birds sing and the bugs call out to each other. With the moon absent from the sky you relied on your heightened eyesight.

You smelled him before anything else. Many of the pack that had already encountered vampires complained of the way they smelled. That their scent was so sickly sweet that it was nauseating. You didn’t know how they were supposed to smell normally, but Edward’s scent was absolutely wonderful. You could literally taste him. Sweetness like honeydew with the after taste the bit at your tongue like an orange.

Before you were even aware of it you were sprinting in the direction of his scent. Right to the border of the pack’s territory. You hoped no one else had caught his scent yet. Heart betraying you, you couldn’t help feel giddy about seeing him.

Hell, you had never spoken to him before today.

You part from the protection of the trees and out into a clearing where Edward stood waiting. He could probably hear the frantic beating of your heart and the happy screaming of your mind.

He’s at a loss of words, perhaps due to the whole situation or maybe from your naked form.

“Both.” Edward answers your thoughts.

You blush furiously, feeling your body heat up even more. “I’m sorry about all this. I really don’t have a choice when it comes to this imprinting crap.”

Shaking his head, Edward takes a step forward. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand. Well, to a certain degree. More than anything I’m surprised. That doesn’t happen to me too often.”

“You and me both.” Unable to control your snort, you internally groan a thow unladylike it was.

It didn’t seem to bother Edward though as he grinned. Slowly it died as he shuffles his feet. “I’m sorry. This whole thing must be incredibly difficult for you. Not being able to choose who you end up with. Imprinting on someone that’s already in a relationship. . .”

Fuck.

“It’s unfortunate for you, but I love Bella. And. . . I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

All the air was knocked out of your body. Fuck that hurt.

“I. . . I know. . .” You swallow hard. On the verge of tears you take a deep breath. It was so hard to fight down the devastation that was making you crumble.

Flinching at the immense pain he had caused you, Edward apologizes again but it sounds more like white noise to you. Holding yourself you involuntarily back away. You didn’t want his pity. He clenches his hand and looks away.

You felt sick.

Fate was utterly unkind.

You release a howl of pain, your human form contorting back into a wolf.

Everyone could hear you. Everyone knew.

[inklore]

slow tempered lovers.

headcanon premise: after agreeing with a sick katy to work her shift at the gallery she works at, you have an intense run in with one of the artists there. the two of you getting off on the wrong foot, until fate helps you get on the right one.

pairing: artist!shang-chi x (f)reader

warnings: very cheesy and humorous, oral, mentions of nude drawings, unprotected sex, body worship, praise, mentions of alcohol, time jumps, unedited!!!!! reminder: you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on. 18+ only.

word count: 8k+, i’m sorry it’s so long besties omfg.

etc: this definitely starts out semi-slow burn, then picks up pace and gets more smutty by the end. the smut is a lot quicker though. but basically i just wanted to make a small hc series featuring autumnal vibes/things because helllooo it’s the best season. though this one is probably the least autumnal feeling than the others i have planned.

🍂 autumn hc series part one. 🍂

When you two first meet it’s more of an accident than anything. Living in the city was not for the weak and the hefty rent bill that always seemed to shock you each month those big bold numbers showed across your draining-very-quickly bank account. So finding a second job had been more of demand than a want. And finding one job in the city was hard enough, finding another had been even trickier. And just when you’re about to give up the search, pick up more hours at your current job and hope by some miracle you would either get a raise or land something big; your friend Katy calls in a fit of coughs and sniffles begging you to cover her can’t-be-missed art showing at the gallery she worked at. It taking about thirty minutes for her to convince you and then another thirty to teach you the bare minimum of art terms, if anyone should ask you about the artists being showed, and the promise to give you the salary for the night and to bring you your favorite pumpkin muffins from the bakery near her apartment.

And it would be the perfect payoff, the perfect deal, if it wasn’t for the fact that you forget everything once you arrive at the gallery. The names of the artists slipping from your mind, only finding reminders when you walk by the several art pieces on the walls. You finding yourself quickly avoiding too many pressing questions: ‘is the artist here tonight?’ ‘do you know what mediums they used?’ ‘how did you obtain such art?’. You coming up with a good system of saying “let me go check!” and scattering off into a group of people to hide your clueless shame. Or grabbing a glass of champagne from one of the carts and offering it to them, feening shock when you see no one has offered them one already, distracting with booze and fake sympathy.

Towards the end of the event you find yourself sat on one of the long cushioned benches, your name tag ripped off and hid away in hopes no one will know or assume you’re actually supposed to be running the event. Having ran out of excuses, answers, and interjections. A glass flute of champagne in your hand, pretending to be immersed in the art pieces in front of you; portraits of people drawn in dark charcoal, some full body, others close up expressing different emotions, another of a woman with bobbed hair with a scowl on her brows. The smudging of the medium incredibly detailed making each piece highlight what was trying to be shown.

“Mind if I sit?” You don’t reply outright, or turn to see where or who the voice is coming from, half afraid someone might have remembered you as supposed to be working here rather than loitering around and avoiding the guests. The other half being you were too engulfed in the art piece in front of you. Your mind coming up with several different questions as to who this woman could be and what grave emotion, or action could of led up to the hurt written on her face.

So you reply with a quick “sure” offhandedly, sip from your glass and continue to gaze at the photo in front of you. Paying no mind to the stranger who takes the inadvertent invitation and sits beside you. The two of you seeming to be transfixed on the artwork ahead of you, gazes stuck on the strokes of black and crinkle of the woman’s forehead, the sharp point of a weapon attached to a string that flows around her wrists and arm, the murky background that sets it.

The two of you keep that shared silence, that you are thankful for, for what feels like forever. Until the man besides you decides to speak again, “what do you think of this artists work?” He asks. The pin prick of anxiety poking at your spine and making you straighten your posture, tap your finger nervously on your glass. And when you turn to him you expect to see some very-important-art-personal written on a name plate and pinned to his shirt. But instead you’re met with a soft smile, a hint of a dimple trying to peak out from his cheeks. The man wearing business casual on top but black jeans on the bottom. The top two buttons of his white dress shirt undone giving you a full view of his throat and very top of his chest, a normal part of the human anatomy that shouldn’t make you lose your breath for a split second. Or have your eyes quickly snapping back to his ever growing smile that makes you feel even warmer.

It takes you a beat to answer him, remembering that you only let your eyes roam on him to find a name plate, or some sign that you had in fact been caught as not knowing shit about art. Which: he held no evidence of being on the hunt to find such a person. “It’s. . .” You start, turning back towards the work, your head slightly tilted to the side. “Very emotional. Like, the artist was trying to convey a certain emotion but got lost in the chaos of it.”

“Hmm.” The stranger also turning to look at the artwork in question, “chaos.” He mumbles lowly. You wouldn’t of heard it if the two of you weren’t as close as you were. You just now noticing that there was only a few inches of room between his jean clad thigh and your naked one. “And what chaos has he gotten lost in?” His attention back on you, the same soft smile still lingering on his lips, making you smile in return.

“The kind that causes the artists emotions to be more on display than the model, or subject itself. He’s trying to show this woman holding these daggers, the look of hurt or grief on her face as if she’s just had to use them, or is going to use them. And that should be the main focus. But to me, personally, the main focus is how the charcoal patterns are erratic. The lines are messy and smudged and blotted and pressed that it looks like the artist was going through something more grieving than the woman was.”

The stranger doesn’t answer for a beat. You actually have to look back over to him to make sure he hadn’t up and walked away while you were looking between him and the photo. And when you look to him his face is no longer soft, something else has taken over his features. An expression that you can’t find surfacing on your brain, because the intense look he has in his eyes, the way he’s staring at you, it has your breath catching and words falling short. You almost think you’ve made him mad, or maybe over explained yourself. That maybe he was looking a short answer of ‘oh I think it’s cool’ or something, maybe he wasn’t into art either. Maybe he was just here because he had to be just like you. Whatever it was, the feelings bubbling in your belly had your whole body tightening in anticipation for when the tension would despise.

“Did I offend you?” You ask gently.

The man seems to come back to himself, chuckles, shakes his head. “No, no. Quite the opposite really.” He runs his fingers through his hair, barley tousling it out of place. “I’ve been to these things a million times, and each plays out the same when questions get thrown around. ‘Where do you get your inspiration from’ ‘who is she’ ‘how many have you actually sold’. And each time I give the same generic answer or get the same generic answer back when I turn the questions on them.” He’s looking back to you now, that warm feeling from his smile engulfing you once more. “But no one has ever given me an answer like yours though. Where they can see me through the work and not just the muse.”

You don’t know if you feel more embarrassed or shocked at the realization that washes over you when you process his words, and realize you had all but called the artist who made the artwork in front of you, who happened to be sitting next to you: chaotic. “Oh my god.” You quickly stood from the bench, running your hands down your black dress. Were you even allowed to give your honest opinions on the work here was that in Katy’s job description, no your job description for the night?? You were only there to help direct, hand out drinks and name tags and maybe spew out some pretentious vocabulary words when someone asked an important question about the flow of a paint brush. “I’m so sorry, I-should not have said-anything.” You stumble on your words. Ready to take off in the direction of your work station. Throw yourself back out into the wolves.

“Wait, no,” he laughs. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like you were insulting me, or my work.” He’s standing in front of you now, not in a ‘please listen to what I have to say’ creepy way. But more of a humorous, we are definitely getting off on the wrong foot kind of way. “I thought what you said was great, real, honest. Not everyone is honest about your work once they find out they are actually speaking to the artist who made it.”

“How do you know I was being honest? My employment here could very well mean I have a script I need to follow to keep the masses coming back for more.” You pointed out, hoped it would come off more ground-standing than humorous so you could walk away without feeling too worried you were going to get Katy fired for it.

A look of confusion plays across the mans face, he looks around for a beat as if searching for something or someone, “you work here? With Katy? I’ve never seen you before.”

Shit. It was up until now that neither you, or Katy apparently, took into consideration that people who came to the gallery showings often would recognize that Katy wasn’t here. Or that they had never once seen you putting in work here, or that you didn’t mention Katy once as to tell everyone where her whereabouts were and why you a commoner were in her place instead. Making the situation even more fishy. And your brain can’t quite comprehend all of these thoughts so instead of bidding the stranger a goodbye you quickly walk past him and, what you hope is, out of sight from him and to the back room where you can freak out and call Katy during said freak out in peace.

🍂

When you two meet again it’s ironically due to Katy, once again.

An impromptu dinner party, that was more or less five of you in Katy’s small apartment, random displays of food on every counter space available. Assortments of liquor adorning beside said food, music playing softly in the background, while Katy insisted you all gear up to play a shorter version of Monopoly, that you were sure she was stretching the truth about.

You hadn’t expected to see him there. Hadn’t expected to see him standing in the small kitchen space, cheese and crackers in hand. His expression seeming to perk up when he recognizes you. “Oh, hey.” He smiles politely. “I met you at the showing right?”

You can’t help the sigh that you release or the prickle of embarrassment that still clung to you from just thinking about the mishap. “Yeah, that’s me.” You grimace but he doesn’t seem to notice, as he laughs softly, cut off from saying his next words as Katy enters the small space, making her presence more than known.

“Ahh, so you two meet, again.” She gives you a little smirk as she looks between the two of you. “I heard you completely trashed on my boys art here, y/n.” Katy teases as she reaches for a can of beer, smirk still ever present as she watches you scowl at her and flounder with even more embarrassment. So they were friends, and really good ones it seemed. You wondered how you had never met him before. You had met all of Katy’s friends, at least you did, when you had time to be a social butterfly and not worry about keeping a roof over your head.

“I didn’t trash on it.” You state, assure, convince, whatever tone you were using to take the heat from your cheeks, and embarrassment rolling off of you. “I just simply gave a too honest review to the artist who I didn’t even know was an artist.”

“His name was below the artwork, how did you not know it was him?” Katy’s laughing now, as if the most obvious thing was hilarity gold to her.

“In her defense, I didn’t tell her my name.” He interjects, sends you a sweet smile, maybe laced with a bit of sympathy because he too knows you’re suffering at the sake of comedy right now.

“Oh, shit.” Katy shrugs, nods her head as if it all makes sense now. She opens the beer in her hand, takes a sip and then continues her thought. “Well, y/n this is Shaun, or Shang-chi, and vice versa.” She smiles as if this introduction fixes everything and you definitely should not still be feeling completely ridiculous about the events.

“it’s nice to meet you,” Shang-chi holds out his hand politely. You give him a chaste smile before shaking his hand and quickly going back into your defense stance; arms crossed, foot tapping anxiously. Hoping that now that introductions had been spoke that Katy and him would scatter from the kitchen and leave you to wallow in embarrassment alone.

But that does not in fact happen. Katy moving over to one of the food trays closest to you, quickly noticing that she forgot a very important condiment that pairs amazing with the cheese her mother told her was a dinner-party-must. “I can go get it. I’m sure the corner store has it,” You insist, not waiting in the kitchen long enough to hear an excuse as to why you shouldn’t or couldn’t go.

The excuse never comes though, Katy quickly apologizing and thanking you before she all but volunteers Shang-chi to accompany you. “It’s late, he can’t protect you.” She smirks, calling back to the two of you the, now two item, grocery list as she goes back into the living room. Everyone bidding the two of you a goodbye before you leave the apartment and step out into the cool Autumn air.

The two of you walk in silence until you almost forget that he is beside you. The only tell being the crunch of leaves under his shoes and the slight shivering breath you both take when the wind whips a little too hard. “Was that your first time working at a gallery the other night?” Shang-Chi asks. His hands in his jean pockets as he keeps up with your stride.

“Wasn’t it painfully obvious?” Your tone is laced with sarcasm that only seems to make him chuckle softly. You figured Katy had told him by now that you were covering for her, so the question is a bit surprising to you, as is his reaction.

“I don’t think you did too bad your first time.” He states, “Katy is oddly overzealous when she runs those things. Like a sports mom, but with art.” The two of you laugh, you envision Katy running around the gallery making super everything was perfect, everyone had a drink in hand, everyone knew which artist was who, or how to correctly say gouache. “I didn’t take why you said as offensive you know.” Shang-Chi breaks the short silence that had spread between the two of you once again. “I’ve had many bad reviews about my art, especially from those closest to me,” You glance over at him, see his facial expression mock humor with an eye roll at his own words. But a grimace of sadness slowly follows it, and the thought of asking him about it hangs in your mind. But deciding against when you bring yourself back to the reality that you two have only just met. He’s probably not one to air out super personal things with someone he’s met all but twice now.

“I knew you were being genuine. Honest, I meant that.” He gives you that same warm smile that suddenly makes it seem way warmer than it is outside. The little fire of embarrassment dwindle down into cinders at his reassuring words. He huffs out a breath and looks ahead, “it was just nice to hear.”

You smile towards the ground as the two of you continue your walk. “Well, I can unintentionally bash, while also complimenting your work, again sometime. I am looking for a second job after all.” This makes him laugh and the way his eyes light up and his cheeks seem more rosy from the cold air, makes your stomach do a little flutter. Laughing along with him as you try to not to notice your heart beating a little bit faster.

“I’ll be sure to only hire you as a critic from now on. The only opinion that I will take wholeheartedly.”

🍂

After that it’s as if you two can’t stop running into one another. You’re sure no thanks to Katy, as you seen realize that all the surprise meets coincidentally come to play with her having a hand in it.

Your favorite cafe shop, where you almost crumble your pumpkin muffin on Shang-Chi’s sweatshirt when you turn and he’s there getting in line. Him letting it be known that Katy suggested he try the muffins here, that it was the best cafe on the block. Which wasn’t wrong, but not even the woman herself would bother to trudge herself down here, knowing the line would be too long and by the time it was her turn to order the fresh muffins would be gone and the hard old ones would be served up. So you found it surprising she would suggest the place, especially since you were sure Shang-Chi didn’t live even remotely in the vicinity. And when he added “She said it was your favorite” his smile doing you in, making your grip your muffin a little tighter. The flutters in your stomach back from the last time you two were in each other’s presence.

The feeling only growing when you take pity on watching him wait inline for so long. You sitting at one of the many tables as you watch him. The two of you making contact here and there to smile at each other and laugh softly at how slow the line was moving. It all ending with you splitting half your muffin with him and him being wowed. His smile crinkling the skin by his eyes.

And it continues like that. Surprise meetings, Katy mentioning something to one of you to get you there. You both feening ignorance at to what she could possibly be up to. But finding the time to walk beside each other in the park, that you walked home from work through everyday, Katy telling Shang-Chi that it was the best park to go to for the perfect views to sketch. Or Katy telling you about this amazing takeout place, that just so happened to be close to Shang-Chi’s apartment, where he seemed to order from almost every night because he didn’t feel like cooking something for one; the two of you occupying a table together. The conversations flowing between the two do you casual and easy. His smile still making your stomach flutter in a mess.

It’s not until you are begged by Katy herself to go to a karaoke bar, her quickly mentioning “Shaun will be there”, sly and slick like it would be the icing to get you to eat the cake; you knew she was plotting against you, or for you. You weren’t too sure which latter it was yet. Or if you even liked the thought of which it could be.

And instead of letting yourself sit in your stuffy apartment and dwell on it, or stand in the mirror for another second debating on your outfit, convincing yourself it wasn’t because you wanted to look good for anyone, at all, ever. And then ignoring the anxious feelings once you meet at Katy’s apartment, Shang-Chi giving you his signature smile when he see’s your enter the room, walking beside you the entirety of the walk to the bar. Holding the door open for you, ordering you a drink. Asking you what your go to karaoke song was and if you needed help belting it out. You definitely were not letting yourself think of how any of that was making you feel. And you were definitely ignoring Katy’s smirks and subliminal eye messages from across the room.

“Let’s do Hotel California next!” Katy cheers, hands you and Shang-Chi another shot. Her cheeks already red and voice hoarse from drinking and singing to hard. The warmth from the liquor burning your stomach, your cheeks heating from the commotion of bodies in the confined space and effort to give your best Celine Dione.

“I actually have to head out soon.” Shang-Chi pipes up. It doesn’t stop him from downing the shot Katy handed him. Or standing up from the couch ready to sing along with Katy as she sets in the next song.

“Shaun,” Katy groans, turns to him and raises her hands in the air like she’s about to protest something big. “You are freelance and work on your own time, what possibly could you be doing that can’t start at noon tomorrow?”

“I’m trying to find inspiration. I can’t do that with a hangover.”

“I’m pretty sure you can. Just pop an Advil and wear some sunglasses.” The shorter of the two grins.

“Katy,” Shang-Chi laughs softly. “I’ve been wanting to work with more live models. I’m sure my bloodshot eyes and vodka coated morning breath will surely not lure them in.”

Katy makes a face, turns to the projector as Hotel California’s intro begins to play. “You are staying for this song and then I’ll let you go, deal?” The two shake hands in agreement, smile and hum softly as they wait for the lyrics. When she motions for you to join you do so without argument and stand beside Shang-Chi microphone in hand. “Wait,” Katy interjects just as the first line begins, turning towards the both of you. A look of pure genius twinkling in her eyes. “You want live models, y/n is looking for a second job, why don’t you have her model for you? I’m sure it’ll be cheaper and,” She gives a sly smile, “you’ll get to know each other better. Not to mention less worry about responsibility, and more time for karaoke.”

The two of you freeze. Your gazes meeting each other’s. Shang-Chi’s expression one of confusion; brows raised, head leaned to the side. While you just look between him and Katy nervously, your palm sweating and surely coating the microphone in a sheen of it. Part of you wanted to scowl at Katy, ask her what she thinks she was doing not only mentioning you needing a second job. The odd feeling of embarrassment at the declaration being the main cause of your sweat. The other was: the possibility of spending more time with Shang-Chi. Which. . .was not something that left a bad feeling in your marrow. Quite the opposite.

“I don’t think Im the modeling type.” You declare. Breaking the tense filled silence.

“All you have to do is stand there.” Katy shrugs, reassuring you as she begins to sing along to her appointed tune. “And Shaun is desperate,” She smiles. “He’s been looking for live models for a while, just don’t think he’s good enough to ask someone other than his sister.”

Shang-Chi grimaces, giving the woman a tight lipped smile. “Thanks for that.” Katy sends him a wink and continues to sing along. He looks to you and gives you a genuine, apologetic smile. Which you return with a shy one. Feeling almost jittery at the attention and prospect. “I wouldn’t be opposed.” He admits. “I have been wanting to up my real-time-emotions work, since this really heavy critic said I’m slacking on it.” You can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips at the clear jab at the reminder of your all to embarrassing first meeting, again, and the too honest review you shot him with. Your stomach doing a little flutter when he laughs along with you. The alcohol making the whole thing funnier than it truly was, but the warmth of it soothing your anxiousness when Shang-Chi confirms that he means, and would love to have you model for him if you wanted to, of course. No pressure.

You tell yourself it’s the mention of pay that really sets it in stone for you. Really makes your decision for you. Definitely not the way Shang-Chi’s face looks softer and eyes look brighter at the prospect. Or him sitting down beside you on the leather couch to talk over his ideas for his next project. Leaving Katy to sing by herself, not seeming phased at all as she makes a grand performance.

🍂

And when you arrive at Shang-Chi’s apartment the next day, checking your hair in the reflection of very store you pass along the way. The Autumn wind doing little to help. Standing outside of his door for at least three minutes before having the courage to knock on the door. His bright smile and the smell of pencil led and wood of his apartment, being the only things that ease your anxiety. The two of you still feening almost shyness as you go over poses and Shang-Chi reassuring you every step of the way at your ‘I have no idea what I’m doing’ declarations and sympathy.

His soft words and heat from his palm as he reaches over and places it atop of your hand perched on your knee, making your insides boil down to a heat filled simmer. “You’re going to do great. Really, once you’ve been sat in the same spot for hours I’m sure you’re going to regret even agreeing to this.” He chuckles, “so, please. Don’t be nervous.”

You laugh nervously, “just as long as you make me look good!” You jokingly warn as you move to the directed stool he has placed in the middle of his apartment, a white backdrop draped on the far wall. His hands coming up to move your arm here and hand here. His hand on your back to help straighten you making you want to lean into him more. Your nerves lighting up.

He stops in front of you, smiling down at you as he moves a piece of your hair to fall slightly in your face. “You already look good.” He says so cooly and velvety smooth that it has your breath catching. The look of appreciation and fondness written all over his face. You almost wonder if you imagined it.

And that’s how it goes for the next few weeks. You come over to his apartment when you’re not working. You sit in whatever position, and expressions, he puts you in: lying on the couch with a book in hand, leaning against a wall or the balcony of his apartment, perched on a stool looking up. Even sitting on the floor at his coffee table as you eat from a bowl of takeout Shang-Chi orders after your stomach obnoxiously growls during one of your sessions. Your cheeks heating with embarrassment, him looking up from his sketchbook smiling, wasting no time to grab his phone and order something without question or word. The two of you growing more comfortable in the shared space.

“Have you always used pencil, or charcoal?” You ask as you are sat on the couch, holding the pose Shang-Chi directed you in. You watching him look up to you, work his hands along the paper, rub his fingers along lines, shade here and there, for what seems like hours. The only sound being the friction of the medium against paper, the wind blowing fallen leaves outside of the window. And the soft music playing from a record player on the otherwise of the room.

“Yes.” He answers with a small grin. “I’ve tried various forms of paint before. Even tried my hand at sculpting, which was definitely not for me.” He chuckles to himself, as if remembering the inside memory. It makes you smile. “I love the mess. Of lead. Charcoal. Both of it-all of it.” He looks up from the sketch, eyes on you as he continues. “Love how it leaves smudges on my hands and the way it feels between my fingers. And, as weird as it sounds, the bitter smell it leaves behind.” 

You smile at him as you hear the genuine contentment in his voice as he speaks to you. His eyes never leaving yours as he lets you in on a little piece of him. Your stomach fluttering. “What does it feel like?” The question is probably childish, weird. But with the way he describes the medium it has you absent mindingly moving from your pose slightly as you try to pear over at the black object in his hands.

You expect for him to maybe laugh at you and confirm your question being dumb, but instead he motions for you to come sit beside him. Hands you the piece of Charcoal between his fingers once you are sat beside him. His sketchbook placed in your lap next. You look down at the fresh new page, the hard dark medium between your fingers. Running the pad of your finger along the smooth tip, the slight ridges in the side, a smudge of black leaving itself ever present on your skin. “It just feels like chalk.” You declare honestly and it makes him laugh.

“Here,” he moves closer to you. “Try this.” He places his hands upon yours, his grip light and soft. The medium flush against the paper as he moves his hand along with yours, moving the charcoal along the white of the sketchbook. Your heart slowly picking up speed. You let him completely have control of the functions in your hand. Moving your fingers out to smudge lines, run circles along the murky paper. The black deepening on your fingers and leaving evidence of him on your flesh as his one digits move along yours, in between, almost lacing your fingers together. Pressing the pad of them into the tops of yours. Soft. Smooth. Gentle.

You try to pay attention to the lines he is making with your hands. The swoops, the direction, the shading, the feel of the bitter smoothness of the medium and slight coarseness from the paper. But theirs a haze over your mind. A dull haze of nothing but Shang-Chi and how close he is to you right now. Your breath hitching to an almost halt from the proximity of him. The feel of him this close. The touch, press, and movement of his hand against yours. You can feel his shallow breath on you, beside your face. The warmth washing over you as his chest leans more into the side of you. And when his fingers move yours in that same circular motion as before it has your body heating up with something you don’t expect. Has your body almost going rigid and stiff as your mind switches gears completely to something more intimate and dirty. Your mind flashing images of the same circular motion his fingers are doing against yours somewhere else. Somewhere more private. Your thighs slowly moving closer together, your cheeks warming at not only the thought but the shyness of even thinking such things right now. This close to Shang-Chi.

And when he mumbles the words “Just like that,” softly against the shell of your ear your stomach drops and your breath stops all together. Your conscious seeming to bring you back to the present and really acknowledge the low burning ache you now feel below your belly. You can feel the tension in the room between the two of you, not sure if you caused it. If Shang-Chi has been feeling your shift, your body language and breath changing. The warmer feel of your skin on his. But when his hands stop, the two of you turning to look at each other, your faces close, so so close. Mouths inches away that it would only take one of you shifting just right for them to connect. His eyes looking almost as drunk with lust as you feel.

“I see why you like it. . .” Are the only words that you can dig up from your hormonal brain. The only thing that seems to bring reality crashing fully down onto the both of you. The moment of tension turning tides at your words. Shang-Chi chuckling softly as he stares at you for a beat, his signature smile and dimple making you regret even speaking. Half wishing you just leaned forward instead. Let your mouths do the talking in another way, it being painfully obvious you both having had wanted the same thing.

🍂

The next session you two have is outside. Shang-Chi suggesting the two of you, not only get some much needed natural light and air from his stuffy apartment, but to also help him work more on his background and setting sketch’s.

So the two of you end up at the park. The cloudy sky casting a dull grey light upon the yellow and brown scenery. You sit on a cold bench, leaves blowing across your boots. Your gaze set across the park as Shang-Chi sits beside you making light conversation as he sketch’s. You only looking over to him when you feel a fallen leaf make it’s home in your hair, Shang-Chi laughing softly as his fingers work gently to pick it out of your hair. The tips of his fingers making the slightest of touches against your cheek as he removes the golden leaf from your tendrils.

And with the way he is looking at you, you think maybe this is going to be the moment you’ve thought about since that night in his apartment; where you wanted more than to feel his mouth on yours. That maybe your mind will get a moment of peace once you finally feel his lips on yours. That you will no longer have to daydream about it, or let your mind and fingers wander at night under the sheets.

But the first drop of rain is what breaks the stare between you two; landing right atop of your forehead. The two of you both laughing and looking to the sky. The one stop being the only warning before heavy drops start to fall in rapid motion. Quickly soaking the two of you as you both scurry up from the bench, Shang-Chi grabbing your hand as the two of you make a run for it in the direction of his apartment. Your clothes sticking to you in an uncomfortable fashion once you finally reach his apartment building, rushing in and stopping at his door. You two leaning against the wall as you try to catch your breaths, looking over at one another; hair soaked, jackets weighed down by rain and mud. A fit of laughter breaking out between the two of you and your current state.

Once your laughter has died down and your breaths have been caught. The two of you relaxing into the silence of the hall and the loud clattering of the rain against the building. You look over at the still open page of his sketchbook in his hands, droplets of water all over the page, crinkling it at the corners, making the page brittle. The smudges of the charcoal nature made rather than from Shang-Chi’s fingers. “Your sketch,” you point out. A small frown on your face as a pang of sympathy runs through you.

Shang-Chi not having the same reaction to the ruined piece as you. His smile taking you by surprise. “It’s alright.” He looks back up to you, “it conveys the real muse,” he moves closer to you, invading your space so there’s no room left but him. Him pressed flush against your front. His hand coming up to rest itself on the side of your cheek. “Soaked from the rain, but still breathtaking.” His words are soft and cut off as his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. Your body letting out a sigh of relief at finally feeling his lips. Finally having his hands in your hair pulling your closer to him. Your hands all over him, even if the wetness from his clothes only dampens your hands more no matter where you touch. It’s as if your body and nerves had been craving to be touched, felt, seen by this man. That your mind could not keep up, it only realizing your attraction to Shang-Chi just days ago, your body having had known long before; it leaning in, keening, mewling at his touch.

The two of you waste no time in pushing through the door of his apartment, trying to shed the wet clothes of your body in a haste. The task seeming more impotent than anything. The struggle making your body ache and shake even more. You wonder for a second if Shang-Chi is going to take you to his room. If this is really going to happen. And by the way he pulls away to rid you of your shirt, his fingers running down your damp skin, pressing open mouth kisses to your neck, chest, the top of your breasts. His fingers fiddling with your bra before it slips down your arms. His mouth making quick work on your nipples. His fingers finding your jeans as you follow suit with ridding him of his shirt, taking a few longer seconds than needed to admire his chiseled body. Before you both get the others pants undone and work on pushing them down damp skin. Your mouth connected, moans and groans of frustration and need filling the room; you know that you two won’t make it to his bedroom. That you need him here and now. The pounding ache in your pussy, the feel of his clothed cock between your folds as he lifts you and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your back against his apartment door.

And when he enters you it’s slow and all at once. Shang-Chi letting a breathy “fuck,” fall from his lips as he fills you. Your body clenching around him. One hand gripping your hair to smash your lips back to his. The other pressed above your head against the door. His thrusts slow and calculated at first. Open mouthed moans and breaths shared at the sheer pleasure and intensity of it all. “Wanted to do this for so long, fuck.” Shang-Chi moans into your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there making your back arch even more against the door, your weight pressed into it. “So, beautiful. Don’t know how I wait so long for this.” He chuckles softly as he presses his lips to yours again, his tongue against yours, his breath mixing with your heavy ones.

He felt so good. Every part of him. Even the parts of you he wasn’t touching. All you could feel was him. His cock stretching you in a way that burns with a deep pleasure that’s finally being sedated that your body shakes, moves in rhythm with his to let him go deeper, to feel him everywhere. The drag of his cock against your tight walls making you even more drunk on him. The dampness of rain on your bodies soon turning into mixed sweat and pheromones of desire and need.

You not even having to tell him what you need. Shang-Chi moving his arms under your legs, holding you in this new position, gripping your ass, allowing him to go deeper inside of your. Your head lolling back against the door. A string of incoherent moans and declarations of “fuck, Shang-Chi” “harder, omg” leaving your hoarse lungs. The burn only becoming worse when you feel his pelvis positioned just right to rub against your throbbing clit, the friction making your toes curl and mouth go slack.

“I’ve been dreaming about how it feels to have you cum on my cock, baby.” Shang-Chi moans against your neck. “Please, cum for me, let me feel you grip me. Fall apart while I’m inside of you. Bet you look so beautiful when you cum.”

His words setting every nerve of your body on a euphoric charge. That all it takes is a few more hard thrusts and him moaning your name into your mouth, and you’re coming. Your mind going hazy with the blissful intensity of shakes and shivers and pleasure and Shang-Chi. Your body becoming so sensitive that you let out small squeals when his thrusts becoming faster and harder against your hips and sensitive core. Shang-Chi quickly following suit, his head buried into your neck, his wet lips on your skin, his words of “fuck, baby” embedded on you, as he quickly pulls out of you and comes. Your thighs and his hand coated in him.

And once the two of you have came down, breaths shallow and slow. Bodies whipped clean, except for the burning of fingertips and mouths singed on each other’s skin. Eyes heavy sedated. Lips swollen and sensitive from rough kisses, bites, and tongues. Throats raw and aching. Your body heavier than before as Shang-Chi sets you on the couch. Your head rested against his chest. His hand moving softly in your hair. His lips resting at the back of your head.

The sheer passion and softness of it all. Of his touches. Of his kisses. His gaze. The rain outside casting a dull grey glow across your bodies. Shang-Chi’s whispers of attempted conversation making you smile; it’s all more than anything you could ever wanted, but didn’t know you needed.

🍂

The next time you find yourself at Shang-Chi’s apartment for another session, he opens the door and greets you with a kiss. Passionate, close, and gentle.

“I’ve been thinking about the other night.” He admits cooly. Pulls you into the warm apartment, shutting the door behind you. Pushes your back up against it, the events of the last time you two were together in this very spot flashing in your mind already heating your body up and making you ache. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it since it happened; it was all you could think about, dream about, touch yourself to. Daydreaming about the next time, hoping and praying there would be a next time with him.

“I didn’t get to taste you.” He smirks, picks you up and carries you over to the couch setting you down with a bounce. The both of you laughing at the motion. The humor wearing off as soon as Shang-Chi’s lips meet yours again, him sliding down to his knees to rest in between your open legs. His fingers making quick work with the button of the plaid skirt, pulling it down to toss to the other side of the room where your shoes sit. Your stockings and panties following suit, until your lower half is completely naked to him. His mouth kissing a trail up the inside of your thigh, the sensitive, sensual touch making you shiver and shift. The anticipation as he keep eye contact with you the closer he gets to your, already soaked, cunt.

And when his mouth finally makes contact with your wet center it sends shockwaves through you. Your body arching up into his mouth. Your hand instinctly going to the top of his head. The back of your head finding the cushions of the couch, your eyes closed in pleasure.

Shang-Chi devouring every bit of you. Alternating between licking and sucking at your clit; his tongue moving in circles, flicking, and massaging the sensitive bud just right that it has you gripping his hair, cursing as a moan after moan falls from your open mouth. His tongue teasing at your entrance, his grip on your thigh tightening and untightening the more intensely his mouth pleases and devours.

“Mmm,” Shang-Chi moans against your core, the vibration making your legs stutter and shake against his shoulders. Your hips rolling against his tongue, making the pleasure even more intense and so good. You think you hear him tell you how good you taste as he laps at you. And how he wants you to come on his tongue. Your mind clouded by the ache and burn of pleasure that all you can hear is your own heart beating in your ears and the moans you can’t stop from letting out.

Your orgasm reaches you quick and like a thunderstorm on the horizon waiting for the right moment to wreck havoc. Your body going rigid as you arch into the couch, your legs shaking and body quiver, as Shang-Chi sucks at your clit as you come on his tongue. A soft satisfied moan vibrating from his lips onto your skin.

He kisses your inner thighs, gently places them back onto the couch on either of him. Leans up with a smile and kisses your forehead, him leaning his forehead onto yours in its wake. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get enough of you.” He says sweetly. One hand finding yours and connecting your fingers. The other rubbing small circles into your hip.

And all you can do is smile because you know you’ll never get enough of him either.

He shows you as much as, after a beat, he’s kissing you. Removing your shirt and bra, letting his mouth roam and caress your breasts. Making his way back down to your still throbbing pussy as he makes you come on his mouth again.

You showing your appreciation the following day when you waste no time in dropping to your knees at the entry way of his apartment, your mouth wrapped around his cock. His hands in your hair, filthy words spewing from his teeth bitten lips, as you taste and savor him. Showing him you’ll never get enough of him either. The feeling of his cum shooting to the back of your throat setting the notion in stone.

🍂

After that it kind of goes on in that same manner. You seeming to come over to his apartment more times than not to end up in his bed, on your knees, or begging him to let you rest after making you come for the third time that day.

Once the two of you have had enough of each other you either get back to what lead you both here in the first place: sketching. Or Shang-Chi orders food and the two of you sit on the floor of his apartment, naked and pressed to each other, as you eat and talk. No matter what it all usually ending in sex or you falling asleep in his arms.

But when Shang-Chi asks you if he can sketch you nude. The question brought up after a night spent in bed together. The two of you stood at his front door to abide each other a goodbye. His hands at your sides, smiling down at you. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with it. I understand. There’s no pressure.” His sincerity written all over his face as he runs his thumb down your cheek.

You knew your answer even before he reassured you that it was okay if you said no. That seeing your body in any form you allowed, just allowing him to touch and taste you, is enough, and would always be enough for him. Him giving you an out, a reassurance that makes your heart full. Even before any of that, the intense thrill that shoots through you at the thought of him sketching you completely naked for his and his eyes only; it was a done deal for you.

So when you are back at his apartment the next day, a cream colored sheet hung on one of the walls, a matching colored one adorned on the floor below it as well. You don’t know why your nerves act up. Shang-Chi having seen you naked more times than you could count up until now. There was no need for the anxious feelings swirling around inside of your belly as you laid on the sheet, his posing you and sitting atop a stool a good distance in front of you. But you know why after you’re in your position for a while, your body settling in on autopilot now used to the long wait of having to hold a spot. Your eyes catching his every so often, the intense look of being completely lost in you; blown out pupils, swollen lips from being licked too much, the swallow breaths and slight pink tint of his cheeks giving way to every feeling and thought Shang-Chi was currently having about you as he sketched your naked body with precise lines and shades. This felt more intimate than when you two actually fucked.

As if you whole being was on display for him and it wasn’t overshadowed by moans or pure thoughts of the aching pleasure to come. It was just you two, him seeing you, you seeing him. The appreciation and devotion to what he was doing, how you looked, the way your body moved and turned and formed. And how he could capture that, remember it, reach out and feel it and have the evident of black smudge on his hand as a reminder that this was real. He saw you. Could see you. Could touch and fed you and vice versa. It was all so much.

And when he is done he joins you on the sheet. He kisses you with passion and spends extra time running his hands along your body, caressing every curvature and line. Every crevice and ample piece of skin his mouth can connect to. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers against you, “my muse, perfect.” He praises, worships your body with his tongue and hands until you are coming and he’s inside of you. Smudges of charcoal staining both of your skins as he wraps his arms around you, kisses you, thrusts into you. The passion he has as he fucks you on the floor, praising you, telling you how good you are, how good you feel, how are more than he could of ever thought up. It takes your breath away and leaves your bones aching and body needing him for always.

After you both have come and laugh softly at the little smudges the two of you have now littered all over your bodies, you lay in a quiet calming silence. Your body still reeling and aching. Hot all over.

And when the two of you finally move to the other side of the room, laying against each other on the couch, eyes looking upon the sketch of you; naked and exposed in all of your glory to him. You ask him, “what do you think?” You look over to him, “what do you see?”

His gaze meets yours, his soft smile there and lazy on his lips as he says, “Only you. There’s no trace of me in here expect how the lines came to be. Everything else is you. It’s all you.”

[l4verq]

boats🎣 | b.b

bucky barnes x reader

in which you’re supposed to be helping repair sam’s old boat but your boyfriend keeps distracting you :(

tags : 18+ minors pls DNI , bucky’s a horn dog and so is reader, sam doesn’t know bucky has his hand right on reader’s 🐱 and reader is TRYING to keep it that way lol, no plot, just a little porn ����

fic : one shot

stern - the back part of a ship |

gangway - a flat board or metal structure that can be put in place between a ship and land to let people get off or on the ship |

cabin - a private room on a ship for a passenger or one of the people working on the ship |

masterlist

you know he’s not doing it intentionally.

the slight grunts as his vibranium arm effortlessly rips off rusty, rotting pieces of wood hastily hammered over cracks and gaps.

you’re scratching off stringy residue of duct tape slapped on holes in the stern, standing a few feet away from him, taking in the view.

not the one overlooking the wide stretch of blue water.

but the one where your boyfriend’s wiping the sheen of sweat off his face with his shirt and it’s not just any shirt, it’s the light grey one that’s one size too small but fits so right on his sculpted body.

he lets it drop, panting as his eyes trail over to you and smirks.

ok, so maybe he does know what he’s doing.

you go back to vigorously scraping off the grimy, faded string- how does duct tape turn to these stubborn, ugly strings that just refuses to come off?

and to top it all off, sam’s parents - god rest their souls - used the tapes in places you’re having to bend over, stretch your arms down as much as you can and hopefully are actually scraping the residue off.

“i got it.”

you jump a little, startled by his voice.

that sweet, sweet voice that brings you to your knees [literally] everytime.

he’s right behind you - you’ll never get used to his super soldier thing where he can sneak up on literally anyone - his crotch pressed right onto your ass as he bends down as well, arm sneaking down yours.

oh, he definitely knows what he’s doing.

his hand grabs the handle of the metal scraper in your hand, taking it from you.

the boat sways a little, just a little.

shouldn’t make him thrust right on your denim shorts clad ass, making miss kitty down there all flustered.

bucky’s a lot of things and being an insatiably annoying tease is just one of them.

he gets back up, vibranium around your waist pulling you up too, “sarah said she needs help with the pipes.”

you could use some help with piping too, you think.

“oh, okay.” you say breezily before getting out of his way.

getting out of his way as in sliding your ass across his crotch, a small groan leaving his mouth right into your ear.

he’s played this game with you way too many times and always won.

it was time for a new victor.

and so the rest of the day is just relentless teasing, lingering touches, strokes and a lot of “oh silly me, i dropped something. let me just pick it up.” and slowly raising your ass up his legs, feeling his jeans constrict just as you lift it away.

at one point, he’d pressed you against the wall, pinned your wrists above your head, i know what you’re doing.

cue innocent batting of your eyes, with a what?

you were the clear winner, until now.

until now when you’re in the cockpit, on your tippy toes, straining to hold up the glass pane.

“i don’t know how to break it to you that you’re not tall.” sam yells from the other side of the glass, voice all muffled.

you roll your eyes, practically unsticking your sweaty front from the majestic helm that’s been poking your belly for five minutes now. to say your tank top is just drenched in sweat is not an exaggeration.

totally not the hot girl summer aesthetic you were hoping for this year.

“need a hand?” bucky pokes his head in from the door, eyebrow quirked.

how does he get to look that good all sweaty and grubby?

“yeah, sam’s screaming at me cause i’m short.” you pull your lip, turning to face him.

he chuckles, lowering his head at the doorway and enters the cabin which suddenly looks even smaller because of his towering presence.

“i’ll lift you up, c’mon.” he extends his arms, the slightest smirk tugging at his lips, a playful glint in his eyes.

you turn around warily as he hops around the heap of boxes, screws, wrenches, crocks cluttered around the floor and he’s right behind you, hands tinkering around your waist.

but he slides his right palm right between your legs, other hand on your.... fuck, does it matter?

the only thing on your mind right now is him hiking you up, palm basically cupping your denim clad pussy.

you shakily hold up the glass while sam begins applying window sealant from the other side, completely oblivious to your boyfriend groping you.

his cool, metal arm rests under your thigh, a stark contrast to the burning ache between your legs.

“such a tight spot here.” he comments, palm squeezing slightly and it takes everything in you to stifle a moan.

he was crammed up against the helm, legs bumping into empty jars and canisters. you can only hope sam thought he meant that.

and it’s just torture, the next three minutes perched under his palm, desperate for some friction, to just rub it out all the while maintaining a poker face right at sam in front of you.

not helping that he’s having a casual conversation with sam, knowing full well that you’re absolutely just falling apart under his touch right now.

and the waves, the stupid waves that rock the boat so now bucky has to ‘adjust’ you, bouncing you up on his palm, squeezing your thigh with his other hand.

“sam!” a distant voice calls out.

you silently thank the lord for answering to your prayer.

“i’m working!” sam yells back, eyebrows furrowed, applying a line of translucent paste on the lower frame.

“SAM!”

sam huffs, screwing the cap on the tube of sealant back on, “i’ll be back. you can let go now.”

your sore arms cry out in pain as you retract them back, shaky legs because of a certain blue eyed 106 year old whose hand is shoved between them.

“i got you.”

bucky easily bounces you around, gripping your waist, your legs wrapping around his torso.

“you good?”

his right hand rests on your lower back to support you, eyes raking over your arms.

bucky’s a lot of things and being a caring, doting absolute annoyance of a boyfriend might just be the best one.

you just wait for the familiar creak and slight tilt of the boat confirming sam’s waddled across the gangway before crashing your lips into bucky’s, nearly tipping him over.

it’s almost animalistic, his lips part, letting your tongue slip in and delve in his taste that’s just so.. bucky.

it’s sweet, minty, tangy and you’d figure out the rest if only you both didn’t have to pull away, gasping for air.

“you’re so annoying.” you breathe out, panting right into his mouth.

jars tip over like dominoes as he backs you to the wall, shielded from the many windows but if someone so much as just craned their neck a little to look in, they’d have a front row seat to your snog fest.

“you know what these shorts do to me.”

his vibranium arm snakes around your waist, locking in, making that mechanical sound that’s just so sexy to you for some reason.

the evening sun is a little more merciful than the blistering beams of the morning but crammed up in that tiny area, sweaty bodies clinging to each other, you might just have a heatstroke.

if you didn’t pass out from the throbbing down there first.

“i need you to keep that pretty mouth shut, can you do that for me?” he cooes, forehead resting on yours, fingers reaching down to rub back and forth between your shorts.

you nod feverishly, unable to form words, hands grasping at the wall behind, his biceps, his back, everywhere, the long awaited friction sending sparks up your body.

“can’t let nobody hear us, now can we?” his lips trail to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, a dull pain overpowered by pleasure coursing through out.

your hand tugs at his hair, soliciting a low moan from him.

“teasing me with your ass all out in these shorts,” he drawls, “such a bad girl.”

you’re hyperaware of the wide open cabin door and how someone could just walk right in, those two kids are always running around ever- fuck, the kids.

god, you’d never be able to face sam’s family ever again.

but it’s somehow the least of your worries when he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them with soft groans.

and he shoves them in the front of your shorts, “so tight,” he growls, hand barely fitting in.

you gasp as his finger finally make contact, run up and down your sopping slits.

“hmm, always so wet for me.” he groans, sloppy kisses down your neck, along your collarbone.

you whimper as he teases two fingers at the entrance, making you jolt when his thumb starts circling your swollen nub, the bundle of nerves coming undone.

his name’s a strangled, wanton noise deep from your chest but he gets the message.

that you need him to put a baby in you... y’know something along the lines of that.

but like aforementioned, he’s a tease.

so his fingers slowly push in, only the tips greeted by your walls.

“just as tight as i remember.”

back arching when he finally slips them all the way in, palm slightly tapping against your clit and you’re certain you see stars.

and he does the thing where his fingers hook, curl, twist, your legs squirming, his name falling out of your mouth like a chant.

your legs buckle, his fingers moving at an ungodly pace and the only thing holding you up right now is his iron grip round your waist as you shakily find your footing on the floor.

“fuck, you’re clenching so hard, baby.” he rasps, your head lulling into his neck, legs jerking against your own control.

you’re almost there. the familiar tightening of the twisted spring in your lower abdomen, toes curling against the rough surface of your slippers, almost..

creak.

-

a/n : 🤔🤨😳💤🏃🏻‍♀️💨 dk how i feel about this one bestie💭

[moxfirefly]

Hello~ From your smut prompt list. Numbers 2 and 44 for TMNT Bayverse? I’d say either Raph or Donnie. Raph would prob be more fitting but I’m curious to see what Donnie would do 🌝

Listen a jealous Donnie is something that I’m all for cause it’s a different type of jealousy compared to what Raph’s would be

So I’m going with him 👌

Rated Explicit (18+ Only)

It’s illogical, Donatello thinks.

To have this little nagging fire inside of his chest, this is expected after all. You’re beautiful, absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word.

And yeah you’re his, and he is yours but that nagging little pin prick of self deprecation won’t leave.

He remembers staring at the comment on a harmless photo you had posted.

‘You’re so fucking hot’

It had read, the guys profile screams basic, he didn’t have much going for him aside from doing shit like this on any girls profile. Still it nags him, cause it’s not the only picture and the comments don’t remain as ‘tame’ as that one.

That same day you had walked into the Lair in nothing but short jeans and a flannel that often dipped off your shoulder. Donatello doesn’t like this twisting and churning in his stomach.

He doesn’t like jealousy.

Doesn’t like how his brain goes into primal mode and how willing he is to fight god himself if it looked at you funny. It’s worse cause now he’s hyper aware that everyone including his own brothers have stared at you at some point. Even if Leo shakes his head and shamefully adverts his gaze back to his book. Irritation doesn’t begin to cover his feeling when Raph clearly can’t keep his gaze away from your ass and Mikey still actively (if albeit friendly) flirted with you.

Maybe he’s reading to much into it. Still he goes a little harder on them when they spar. Sleep is definitely extremely needed after he blocks all the creeps from your page. Going to the garage had been a good idea, he could take out whatever frustrations remained in his body on repairs, soldering hell maybe even breaking apart things with a hammer.

He doesn’t expect to quell his jealous frustrations with you...

Against the truck...

With one finger deep inside of your heat and the other shoved a little too roughly into your mouth.

But this is kinda helping a lot, like way more.

Because he knows his comment was stupid, like sexist possessive boyfriend levels of stupid. Donnie has never once had an issue with your clothing choices, has never told you to not wear this or that but it’s the outfit from the picture that garnered so many disgusting men to say so many unnecessary and disrespectful things.

The second the words ‘You shouldn’t wear that’ leave his mouth he’s already wishing he could backpedal and explain that it’s not you, it’s the creeps. And yes words like ‘too revealing’ ‘not appropriate’ leave his mouth in word vomit and god why can’t he just shut up he thinks to himself.

You’re stunned nevertheless, brow raised and arms crossed and can’t you see your breast are barely in the short summer dress! Donnie swallows, fist clenched.

Then of course you had to go and say it, defiant little brat that you are.

“Make me”

Donnie bit the inside of his cheek, he took off the goggles (he hadn’t even started his repairs) and calmly walked towards you.

“Okay then” His voice was low, even, just too collected for how it had been seconds before.

And thus here you both find yourselves. On the side of the truck where no one can see either of you but fuck if they walked around the sight would be too much. Your back against his smooth plastron, he’s gotta hunch a bit due to his stature but that means his mouth is close to your ear. “You want to be a brat? You want everyone’s eyes on you?” The tone of his voice makes your skin break out in goosebumps, wow he’s actually angry.

You clench harder around his finger, he’s finger fucking so hard the palm of his hand smacks against your clit. Each resounding wet noise drives you closer to cumin. “They can all look, fuck it they can all ogle and fantasize and maybe even hope...” He lets the digit in your mouth slip out in order to gently grip your chin. He moves your face to better look at him. Then your eyes go so impossibly wide at his words.

“At the end of the day, this-“ He emphasizes with a hard thrust of his hand. “This pussy, is mine and mine alone, yeah?” You somehow nod, legs already shakey and unable to keep you up. If a stupid little dress caused this then, you guess you’re gonna have to wear this a little more often. “Don-I can’t,” Your legs are officially checking out and he knows, he wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close to himself as the first orgasm is pulled out of you via his finger.

Donnie doesn’t let you rest, he doesn’t even let your brain boot up again when he’s hauling you towards the table he has for working on parts of the truck. He sweeps everything out of the way, the clatter echoing and you’re sure somebody has to have heard that. Regardless of, he doesn’t seem to care, he bends you over the table, nearly rips the dress when he pushes it up passed your rear and yanks down your underwear. You grip the edges of the table, hearing things behind you, watching Donnie’s glasses roughly be chucked onto the table and the snap of suspenders.

You stick your rear out for him and hear him groan makes a spike of cockiness but it’s short lived when Donnie pushes into your sopped heat. You rest on your forearms, mouth open but no sound can come out that isn’t a choked breath. Donnie bottoms out with a lengthy ‘yeessss’ that’s growled out. It doesn’t seem to be enough though, because he bends down, arms trapping you and he holds the end of the table. He’s so close, suffocatingly close and god do you love it.

The angle adds a burn to your cunt, Donnie loves it. He feels your heat tightly squeezing his cock and he hasn’t even moved. “They wish they could, they wish they could do this” He says it right against your ear, every syllable tickling you and making you shiver. “If only they knew that at the end of the day, you walk around with my seed in you” He licks the shell of your ear before biting down on the back of your neck.

Hard.

Hard enough you yelp, hard enough that your hand reaches for his and he cups it. “Please, please...” You surprise yourself by actually stringing two words together when overwhelmed and heated to this point. Donnie makes sure to drive into you hard enough the table rattles and you yelp and squeeze your eyes shut. He slams again and you both moan together. You want to turn your head, you’re still worried somebody might walk in.

Donnie’s amused by that.

“Scared? Scared you’ll be found like this?” He gets up from your back and grips your waist, you know he’s giving you more room to look, to watch with baited breath and the possibility of it all only makes you wetter. You wanna play along, he’s been nothing but a jealous fuck this entire time, so why not hit him with one little blow and get his gears truly going.

“I hope Raph walks in” You say, voice shakey but teasing. Donatello’s thrust still, he glares down at you.

“I hope Raph gets to see me like this” You bite your lip before licking them slowly.

Donnie literally growls. He doesn’t give you enough time for another taunt when he drives into you quick and deliberately. He fucks you, he honest to god just fucks you like you’re his favorite toy and he’s been having a bad day, which he kinda has. He drives into you and doesn’t stop until he’s pulled three more orgasms out of you. He doesn’t stop, the sight of your sweaty, overstimulated body and barely able to scream anymore voice keep him going.

For good measure, just to reassure you, he manages for you to cum one more time. His muscles burn, he’s breathing to hard, delaying his own release always felt good but this? This was something entirely different. “Say it, say it or I’m giving you another one” He demands and you squeeze him because part of you wants to but another logical point is telling you that won’t walk right for the next few days. “I’m yours! Fuck Donnie I’m yours!” You feel him kiss the back of your head before pulling out. The daze isn’t enough to not make you look behind, he hasn’t cum’d yet so why...?

Donnie wraps his hand around his stiff length and pumps fast, he wants to mark you like this, it doesn’t take him long to cum. He finishes on your rear with a low lengthy moan, some of it shooting far enough to get the back of your dress.

“Jerk” You barely find enough strength to glare, even if his tired grin makes your stomach fill up with butterflies. “I’m gonna apologize but not right now” He wipes the sweat from his face with the back of his forearm. “You can start by cleaning me up” You hear several pops when you stretch a bit.

Nothing prepares you for Donnie kneeling and licking his own seed from your left cheek. You watch entranced as he pushes down the hem of your dress to cover your modesty. “I like jealous you” Comes your soft and honest voice. “Don’t, it’s not fun” He’s feeling all manner of things, even the gooey chemicals his orgasm brought but there’s still shame. You manage to stand back up on wobbly feet, you reach up and pull his face down and kiss him, literally tasting him.

Kiss him in a way that quiets all those negative thoughts and jealous images.

“I am, irrevocably so, yours” You caress his jaw, letting him close his eyes and hug you so tightly to himself.

[choptop-sawyer]

Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -

But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)

Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk

This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd

This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.

Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎

(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)

Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)

Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns

You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.

They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.

So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.

He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.

You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.

Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.

Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.

You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.

Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.

Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.

Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.

Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.

The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.

You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.

Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.

You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.

The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.

So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.

You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.

When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.

Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.

Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.

It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.

Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.

"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.

"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?

You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.

It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.

Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.

But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.

[duskwoodraven]

Okay! 👏👏 I’d say it’s time for the long after episode MWAF theory/pick apart everything! Of course this will be littered with lots of spoilers so don’t read if you haven’t finished ep 8 yet!

Now as a sort of disclaimer, I know that some people are preparing to throw the Richy is the MWAF theory out the window, which I do not blame them for by this point. The game has screamed over and over again that Richy is gone yet I can’t help but hold on to my theory to the bitter end.😅 I hope everyone has an open mind to what I have to say on the matter. Maybe there will be some points or reminders to help you find your own take on the topic as I explain my own thoughts in the process.

———

First of all, one of the things that has bothered me since the ending is that they still haven’t explained this very basic fact about the MWAF. How in the world did the MWAF know about the group’s investigations and MC’s involvement?

I touched upon this in my last couple theories where I pushed for Richy’s guiltiness by explaining that for the MWAF to know that Jessy would be out on a walk with us, or to know Richy wouldn’t be at Rogers Garage when he was marked, or even knowing we agreed to help this investigation at all, he would need access to the group chats. He would need to know basic information about the groups whereabouts and plan according to it. Not answering this basic fact would leave a gaping hole in the plot.

Micheal Hanson by what we know, left Duskwood more then a year ago, essentially a missing person in the eyes of Duskwood. The group apparently didn’t even know his name so none of them would have told him directly what they were up to. The only way he might be getting information about anything is from Phil, who was being told everything by Jessy herself. That might be plausible if you squint, but yet we know Jessy and Phil’s relationship was even worse in the beginning episodes, I highly doubt Jessy would tell Phil much about herself and the investigation and there is no saying if Phil would even think to move this information along to Michael if he was even in contact with the old bar owner at the time. Also we received a call from the MWAF the very first time we talked to Dan, waaaay in the beginning episodes, we didn’t even know who Phil was at that point, yet the MWAF knew who we were almost immediately.

Then I played with the idea that the MWAF was using an encryption like Alan was or using a spy mode like Jake is, to read everything secretly, but that idea was tossed out too. Michael was a bar owner not a hacker or police investigator, there is little reason to believe he’d know how to do something like that, nor would anyone in his life teach him how to do it either.

(Also as a bonus point for why the MWAF might be Richy, the MWAF didn’t seem to be aware that Jessy and Thomas were heading to the house at all, he still had his candles lit and “art” up so he couldn’t have prepared for their arrival and hide. He might have only noticed Thomas and Jessy where there when he saw the car. This took place after we removed Richy from the chat as well so...)

Secondly, the MWAF’s motivation, why would Michael wait 10 years to take revenge for his daughter and why is he mainly attacking the group over it? For benefit of the doubt, Michael is the few suspects who has a possible motive that makes some sort of sense, yet it’s such a drastic leap in logic for him to attack the group at all.

If Michael is the MWAF and he’s attacking people for revenge, then why would he take Hannah, who we know feels guilty over Jennifer’s death and seems to be working to find out the truth about the case, and kidnap her. She’s trying to bring justice to his daughter, so why would Jennifer’s own father try and interrupt that process? Even if Hannah somehow helped cause Jennifer’s death (reminder that Hannah would have been a child by this point) we know she wasn’t the true killer, it was a man who hit her with a car and took her body into the woods. If Michael really wanted further revenge, killing that man should have been on the top of his priorities, not Hannah.

The hostility he has towards the group is also strange, for a man who cares only for revenge, he seems oddly determined to wipe out everyone, that sounds more like a man who is afraid of being caught then a man who just wants to take down the people who hurt his daughter in the past. That doesn’t sound like the role of a grieving father to me.

And once again he has waited a long time to seek out this revenge anyway, this man was apparently a sheep herder of sorts according to Lily before he disappeared, why come back at all? A parent who lost their child will never lose the pain of that child’s absence, but you’d think the burning embers of revenge would simmer down after 10 years of time and reflection, what could have triggered him to come back? And why would he pick the most foolish spot to set up his base? He should know he was suspected in the past, setting up camp at his own house will easily connect him to the crime as Lilly had demonstrated by throwing out this theory at the end of the episode.

I think it’s more possible for someone else to use Michael Hanson’s house as a coverup to throw off suspicion of himself. Yet who knows? Maybe he is foolish enough to do that lol.

Thirdly, the inconsistency of the legend, the MWAF is not doing a good job at being consistent. He is not taking the people he marked at the first moon of the year and he is also killing them. The original book did not state the people who are taken will die, simply that they will disappear, yet the MWAF supposedly set out to kill Richy, but doesn’t kill Hannah.

And we now know Hannah is most likely alive at this moment because the MWAF stated so in the phone call he was going to kill her. I don’t think he’s lying because it would honestly benefit him more to kill Hannah and tell the group that he did to destroy the groups moral completely rather than keeping her alive.

With these inconsistencies, why should we trust the rules of the legend, they seem to be more like guidelines for the MWAF then actual facts.

Heck, when we talked to Darkness, he told us that the MWAF takes his victims to kill them, something not stated in the book at all.

From this, the book may very well be wrong and unreliable, perhaps the MWAF is following a different legend, a different version of the tale that Darkness might know about. Either way, it would be unwise to connect Micheal to the MWAF simply because of what the legend says until we know why these inconsistencies are taking place.

Basically what I am trying to say, the group is accepting Michael as guilty too fast for my taste, the only facts we have for Michael being the one who did it is that he’s 1. The father of Jennifer 2. The legend we first read was about a father taking revenge 3. We found the MWAF’s “art” inside Michaels old house. 4. Not many people know where Michael is.

That is enough evidence to have someone arrested and investigated, not to convict them of a crime.

———

So do I still think Richy is guilty? Well... somewhat.

I still firmly believe Richy has the most evidence pointed to him and would have the ability to execute the actions we have seen the MWAF take, he would have had access to group chats, his body is still missing like I figured it would be, and he has the knowledge of Duskwood’s history and landscape. He truly is a perfect fit in many ways in my own opinion except for how he fits into this legend and what his motivation could possibly be. Plus the fact that his hat was bloody when it was found, I don’t know if Richy would be capable of harming himself on purpose to make everything more convincing.

All and all, questions still need to be answered and I don’t want to be too hasty in declaring who the MWAF truly is until we can rip the mask off of his face and get him behind bars for good 😌

I’ll be interested to hear your takes on this below, and I’ll probably expand on this conversation when I think of more relevant points or to explain my idea more in-depth if anyone is confused over this post, thanks for reading til the end! 💛

[an-army-of-nightmares]

Porcelain Jekyll au

-

This is gonna be long so heres a tldr

TLDR: Jekyll gets taken to a sort of real nightmare party full of dolls, if he misbehaves they'll kill him and if he's a perfect gentleman he'll turn into a doll. There's a branch where he's rescued and two where he turns into a doll

--

•The au starts with Jekyll going to sleep, timeline honestly doesn't matter as long as Frankenstein, Jasper, and Jekyll are all around. Could start where tgs currently is? But Jasper doesn't accidentally wake Jekyll up in his panic

•"The Party of Dolls" is basically a supernatural nightmare? I haven't found a better explanation but basically it's a nightmare that's real and happening, while still "just" being a nightmare. It takes you to like a different dimension while you sleep basically? (The party of dolls isn't the only one but that's not relevant)

•The dolls invite specific people, they invite people who want to be perfect. People who dont want anyone to hate them or find a flaw. Jekyll fits this perfectly

•Jekyll is taken to the party. He tries to be polite despite being unnerved. There's another human at the party, he doesn't learn the man's name before the man gets ripped apart by the dolls for shouting

The dolls target specific people, but they can still take "fodder", people they know will immediately break the rules. So that their actual guests can learn what happens if they are impolite. The dolls also surround guest on all sides, and have them in the exact middle, so that the guest cannot just run out

•Jekyll is terrified, now knowing he'll die if he does something wrong, he tries his best to be perfect

•Unknown to Jekyll, if he's "perfect" he'll start turning into a doll. Ultimately it's a die or die situation

•Jekyll does start to notice the porcelain creeping up him, its be hard not to. He is very much (silently) panicking. But,, the more porcelain on him the more calm he becomes, the more he acts as if this is a simple party and nothing is wrong

•Eventually he reaches a point where he'd actively resist being taken away from the party, but still not fully covered by porcelain

A quick note, Hyde can't do anything about the situation. He wasn't invited and the dolls are suppressing him so much he can hardly even tell what's happening, or leave the mindscape. He's absolutely terrified about this because he can Feel something is wrong and everything is just becoming more and more suffocating

Now onto the branches! There are 2 and a half branches for this au!

Branch 1: Jekyll gets rescued

(Assuming this takes place at Chapter 11 Page 8)

•Jekyll is asleep on the couch, Jasper rushes in the room like his panic on the page except this time Jekyll does not wake up at Jasper's sudden entry. Jasper, noticing Jekyll is asleep, silently contemplates on if this problem is really worth waking Jekyll. Because on the one hand he's probably overreacting in his mind, but on the other Jekyll is really the only person he can panic to?

•He decides not to wake Jekyll, and wait until it's properly morning or noon?, now that the panic is a bit subdued he probably still has stuff to ask Jekyll

•He goes up to find Jekyll is still asleep, and Zosi frantically pawing at Jekyll's chest, occasionally nibbling him, and seemingly really wants to wake Jekyll up. Jasper tries to wake him up but it seems no matter how hard he tries Jekyll stays asleep

•Seeing how Lanyon probably isn't in the Society at the moment (and besides Jasper is pretty sure Robert dislikes him) and he's currently avoiding Rachel. Jasper cant ask Jekyll's friends if this is normal behavior. Why doesn't he ask the lodgers? Maybe a combination of they all seem busy and still being a bit intimidated by them? So he goes to his last best bet, Frankenstein. She's, kinda a doctor and has traveled quite a bit, so she may know whats up with Jekyll and why Zosi is panicking

Note: This whole decision happens in like a few seconds while Jasper is panicking

•Frankenstein does not ease Jasper's worries

•Ah, I guess there has to be some sort of tell, something that makes it clear someone is in one of these "supernatural nightmares" and that Jekyll is specifically in the party of dolls. Idk yet what that tell would be. But Frankenstein knows and thats all that matters

•They take Jekyll back to the attic, lock the entry, and make preparations for a rescue mission

•Frankenstein will be going in to try and distract the dolls while Jasper will be looking for Jekyll. Creature is there as plan B in case the dolls get hostile towards them (as Creature is fully capable of lifting them all up and running out of there. And the dolls are very likely to get hostile towards them)

•They get in, how? I have no clue. But they do. Probably a potion?

•Jasper quickly finds Jekyll and tries to convince him to leave. Much to Jasper's concern, Jekyll doesn't want to leave, and keeps brushing the danger off

Frankenstein and Jasper dont know much about the nightmare. Its likely all they know is that its filled with dolls and people who are "invited" are never seen again/found dead

•Frankenstein's distraction consists of pointing out flaws in how the dolls act. The dolls keep finding excuses, but eventually become agitated with her

•Japser notices the porcelain on Jekyll and loudly panics, attracting the already agitated dolls attention

•Creature picks them all up and runs towards the doors. Jekyll is greatly struggling against this rescue attempt, but once they get out of the building and onto the stretch of yard before the exit Jekyll calms down significantly

Jekyll did not actually calm down, but rather Hyde managed to weasel control after they left the building. Hyde absolutely does not want to be at this party, and Jekyll's struggling could've jeopardized the rescue

•They get back! Whatever porcelain was on Jekyll falls off him with ease. He's angry for maybe half a day or more. But when the doll's control completely leaves him, he's nothing but relieved

Sidenote: It seems reasonable that this whole experience would leave Jekyll with a fear of going to sleep. Perhaps give him something that can deter these types of nightmares? A desire for the comfort of another person, at least in the room, while he's asleep?

Branch 2: Jekyll fully turns into a doll

•Well either Jekyll went to sleep at his own home or some place where no one would think to look for him, as if he was right in the society they'd certainly take notice that something is wrong

•Jekyll fully turns to porcelain. Once he's a full doll they give him new clothes (the sand/beige colored suit I tend to draw porcelain Jekyll in)

Previously, Jekyll had been wearing the suit he wears at any formal party, like the ball in An Army Of Nightmares

•Porcelain Jekyll gets back to the real world. This is not entirely out of the ordinary for the dolls to do. If a guest was reasonably young or famous they'll be returned once a doll, to make themselves more known or respectable before they "die" and go back to the party full time

•Zosi notices something is Wrong while Jekyll is asleep and tries to wake him up to no avail, Zosi can't bark for attention and he's scared of leaving Jekyll alone, the few times he does go out to find someone he's largely ignored or avoided, or they misinterpret what the zombie pup wants. When Jekyll does wake up, Zosi immediately notices that it's not Jekyll, at least not anymore. Zosi knows he's supposed to get rid of any evil creatures, but this was once Jekyll. So the pup runs away and avoids him instead

•ooo I dont want to describe this whole branch? This has already taken way longer for me to write then I want XD, just check out this reblog chain about it bsksndks

•

Branch 2 ½: Jekyll dies

•Jekyll fully turns into a doll, however instead of entering the real world his real body simply dies. He's found rotting in bed. "Jekyll" however, is still in the party. (Fun fact, this was the original plan for the au)

-----

Extra notes:

▪All the dolls in the party were once people, except for maybe one or two? A handful? But it has long since been lost who's who. And it never mattered

▪Lanyon would not have ever been invited to the party. He doesn't seem to want to be a gentleman, and he knows too much about etiquette to be fodder either

▪Jasper is a proper candidate to be invited, and in branch 2 "Jekyll" is giving him alot more lessons on how to be a proper gentleman, planning to invite Jasper to the party at some point

▪The party always has a host that they cycle though, the host talks to guests a bit more than everyone else

▪Porcelain Jekyll gets to keep his new clothes when returning to the real world

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 15 rewatch thoughts

- mayfeld does hear when the droid talks to him the first time, you can see him pretending not to like he hopes he’ll just go away haha. I also guess he’s had a lot of time to think, picking apart pieces of the large fascist machine he used to be a part of and going over everything he clearly regrets 

- hahaha fennec and boba are in the back intensely keeping watch the entire time they’re on the prison planet. I suppose a good two thirds of this crew is uuuuh extremely wanted by the new republic lol

- the thing din’s voice does at the end when he says “but you still know your imperial clearances and protocols. don’t you.” is beyond fucking words, it sends a chill right through me

- 

1) din fiddling with that panel; I think he’s phenomenally nervous behind the helmet here, that’s the sort of keeping his hands busy he does when he’s anxious and 2) why the hell does boba have this many chairs instead of like space for cargo haha does he throw bounty hunter parties in here or what

- ngl boba correctly guessing at a glance what sort of ore they’re mining and informing everyone in his sardonic deadpan voice is Big Sexy  

I love how he and fennec are standing together when they’re both present in these opening scenes too, first at the very back when they’re keeping a lookout: 

and then in the foreground while they discuss the scan 

it’s a nice subtle way to get across that they already have a dynamic, they’re somewhat used to working together as a unit at this point. (she’s also looking over at him when she asks what they might be mining in there, like she’s mostly asking his opinion instead of opening it to the floor. they’re talking the mission out between them before din enters the conversation)

- the inside of slave 1 when the ship’s moving makes me a little bit motion sick, I really love seeing it but I hope we don’t stay in here too often haha

- aaaw the small weary sigh din gives upon realizing none of his bros can go with mayfeld. I’m sorry about basically your entire life buddy

-

the awkward way din adjusts the helmet like he’s trying to get used to the way it feels ;______;  

- ah the distinct implication that mayfeld is needling din about this because he’s actually feeling super uncomfortable being back in empire gear and he needs to transfer that discomfort over onto someone else so he won’t have to feel through it... very psychologically understandable and such a fucking piece of shit asshole character trait to give in to haha

- din’s level of side eye is so epic you can see it straight through the helmet fhaskjfhd

- neat detail: din’s head turns slightly toward mayfeld when he calls mandalorians a ‘race’. (it’s sort of cool  that we as the audience know why that bothers him, but mayfeld probably didn’t even pick up on it). also shows that mayfeld doesn’t actually quite understand what he’s talking about, even when he makes decent points he’s caught up in his own myopic nihilistic point of view. ‘we’re all the same’ ------> ‘everyone’s secretly as shitty as me deep down’. (which also betrays a lot of self loathing, since we see later he does have the capacity to NOT be that shitty when he chooses to. rick famuyiwa manages to get a LOT of really interesting nuanced stuff into this character in two short episodes, that’s super impressive)   

the bright sunny look on mayfeld’s face when din finally gives in and takes the bait tho fsajdkfhasj he’s awful but that’s very funny

- rip all these excellent dudes who really only wanted to accomplish the noble goal of ruining the empire’s entire day and didn’t know they were also trying to blow up My Dad Who Does Not Deserve Any Of This, it’s honestly just really sad that there’s no moment to talk that out

well at least they blew up the entire refinery on their way out, I’m sure that’s the way they would have wanted their memories honored lol

- the comedy beat of din running out of ammo for the first time ever and the music briefly cutting out for it is so so good for me 

hahahaha din seems to actually take a moment to be a little aghast at that dude who ends up crushed under the treads of the tank thing, he’s just sort of staring for a few seconds too long and that’s how pirate nr 2 takes him by surprise and shatters his shoulder armour 

- I feel a bit bad -- two of the ‘pirates’ try to hold on to each other for balance and then din punches them apart and off the tank :( I mean it’s not like he could just let them murderate him either but like. ouch I’m guessing this one might haunt him for a while for several reasons huh

(the sequence is actually this guy, let’s call him pirate 3, swings the spear at din and misses, instead hitting his buddy who’s trying to get to his feet, then looks horrified and grabs for him to make sure he doesn’t fall off, and then... mando’s forehead happens to them haha)

- poor fennec and cara just running up that hill while everything’s on fire, they must be wondering what the FUCK is going on (at least cara knows that things blowing up is a sure sign din djarin is in the middle there somewhere)

- everything about carano in real life aside for one second -- I do like that we get this contrast in build between our main female characters of the episode and the way their costume designs enhance it

 - awwww the little gesture din does with his hand after he removes it from mayfeld’s chest after stopping him from leaving, it’s just so... sweet. it’s a little bit appeal, a little bit reassurance, it just lightens/softens the tone of what he says a bit (he has quite a lot of like... not conciliatory mannerisms exactly, but small touches here and there that are there to communicate that he’s not angry/aggressive or trying to be a dick about it even when he’s emphatic. I keep wondering how much that is just him being him and how much is him being practiced at settling other people’s hot tempers)  

- this shot is just... genius

it’s din seen entirely from the outside, with nothing of what we’ve learned to recognize as him for almost two seasons now in view -- not even his face, which we have at least a tenuous fledgling attachment to from before. it’s like we get introduced to him almost as if anew again and again in this episode, just like he’s getting introduced to new aspects of himself and what he’s willing to do and having to struggle to find ways to have that fit with who he is. his discomfort and stress is our discomfort and stress. it’s so interesting 

- I can’t stop cackling at this moment even in all the tension -- you only get a sliver of din’s profile but you can feel the sheer MURDER radiating off him sdhfasjk

- aaaaaaaagh the way you get a whole different view of din’s habitual impassiveness when you can actually see his face... the way he keeps appealing to mayfeld ‘just don’t make more trouble, just shut up’, the way he goes completely silent and watchful and frozen..... those are all really obvious trauma responses, and it leads you to wonder how often he touches into that even when he’s in his element, when he’s got the full armour on. hmngh my heart  

- ‘the believer’ is such a galaxy brain title for this episode, because it could be referring to either of the three men around this table or all of them at once. (and crucially the only person whose beliefs aren’t in a living, breathing state of adapting to the world around them is the empire officer, with his horrific inhuman ideology. mayfeld thinks he believes in nothing, and proves himself explosively wrong by the end of the episode, and it’s redeeming for him in some capacity. din is facing a more internal dilemma of different parts of his (and his culture’s) beliefs/values clashing and having to decide which one’s more important, to his identity and to how to exist in the world as a person (and love for the baby wins out supremely in the end. of course it does Y_____Y). the empire dude only sees the same sterile fascist world at the end of his shit rainbow that he’s clearly always done, even when faced with proof that it’s untenable. (I mean he wouldn’t give a fuck that it’s immoral because he’s y’know evil, but he’s not even fazed by the fact that the empire provably FAILED, and failed so quickly) his belief is a dead and deadening thing to contrast the others. man when this show goes off with the themes it goes OFF haha) 

- love the triumphant heroic mando music kicking in as we’re finally getting to pick off imps, love that for us 

- din’s protective instincts at work again, he helps mayfeld to his feet and makes sure he’s safely on board before going further in himself ;_______;

- fennec’s professional approval at mayfeld’s shot hahaha. well I guess he was supposed to be a sharpshooter back in the day huh

I do Not think she likes mayfeld even after all that, though, the withering look she sends him on her way past... should have killed him stone dead on the spot

- seeing din back in the armour is like a physical relief, I can breathe again haha

- tfw you catch yourself thinking ‘at least when all this is over we can go back to the razor crest and everything will be normal again’ and then you rEMEMBER 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[kekoma]

— nishinoya as your boyfriend.

alexa play short kings anthem by tmg. hope you enjoy.

blink blink. wow yeah okay.. many many thoughts with yuu. maybe too many.

just gonna say— before the relationship even started, he chased after you.

the team found it surprising since he really left the kiyoko simp club. no one really saw it coming but they were supporting.

def vents to tanaka about how cute you are and everything.

he’s truly that whipped for you.

gonna slip in that he isn’t that shy around you if he knows but it you’re someone completely new and he met you through one of the teammates or even kiyoko then his shyness will most likely amplify.

can’t convince me that noya DIDN’T try flirting with you by using the tricks and tips he learned from tanaka.

just won’t happen. he definitely threw in the “marry me!” line and you just had to blink twice to process the whole situation before telling him “no.”

was he heartbroken that day? yeah. but did he try again the next week? yeah he did with no shame we’ll never know.

anyways... we’ve all seen the way he acts towards kiyoko, yeah? now all that treatment solely goes to you.

and because of, mans has probably growled and gave one of the deadliest glares at one of your peers all because they had the nerves to tell their friends how cute you were and they planned on asking you for your number.

let’s just say that peer started avoiding you all because they feared yuu would probably beat them up.

now when you two start going out, his protectiveness amps.

especially when he invites you to his games and the one of the teammates from the opponent side decides they want to try their luck with you.

“i think i’m gonna go over and talk to her. wish me luck!” the guy would say while nudging his friend.

but before he could even take one step, noya is already giving him a strange look and mumbling about how you’re off limits.

sometimes he may go a little overboard so give him a small kiss on the cheek or whack on the head— all up to you babes.

something i personally want to add and firmly believe.. you two probably have a snap streak together.

can’t tell me i’m wrong because i won’t stand for it.

the score is probably sitting at 1,287 or higher but just know it’s there.

if you so happened to lose it one day or night then prepare yourself.

“Y/N!! OUR STREAKS! IT’S GONE!”

“i know i know and i’m sorry babe.”

“do you... do you even love me anymore?”

“of course i do! how couldn’t i love you?!”

he’s a bit dramatic.

in the end, he finds a way of getting the score back while mumbling how much he’s ‘living in Spain but without the s’ and etc.

all good though. he def gets over it but you now have no choice but to remember it and keep it going.

side fact; he won’t accpet black screens from you either. the picture has to have your face in it because he loves admiring your beauty.

even screenshots some of them too.

moving on— the whole relationship is goofy and extremely loving but there are some days where he isn’t 100% that.

won’t get too much into it but just know, he’s gonna need you to be there for him and snap him out of his moods (if it’s possible)

anyways, yuu is THE definition of affectionate puppy too.

there’s not a day that goes by when he doesn’t remind you about how much he loves you and uses pda in a way to remind.

also he invites you to all his games and in return, if you’re in any sports or musically talented then he shows up to those events.

even brings snacks or/and a few flowers while telling you how amazing you were (he would cook but umm... mans isn’t skilled enough for that yet so snacks will have to do)

overall very supportive of everything you do and makes time to show up to any events— even if you don’t tell him.

speaking of pda from earlier, let’s get into it.

in public— he’s HUGE on pda.

can literally go from slight brushes against each other skins, such as his hand brushing against yours, to dead on holding you.

doesn’t care if he gets clowned on for it— you’re his and that’s all that matters.

but if you aren’t a huge fan about public pda for some reason then tell him. yuu is quick to stop and work around it so you’re comfortable too.

vvv respectful and we stan that.

noya’s top favorite pda with you though is 🥁🥁🥁 hand holding. yeah yeah it’s basic but the action alone lets everyone know you’re his baby and that’s what matters.

now when you two are alone.. that’s a different story.

might be a little more touchy and definitely likes to kiss you more.

loves.. let me say it again, LOVES cuddling with you for sure.

vv versatile too. he doesn’t mind being little spoon if you requested it and if you’re in a bad mood then he won’t mind being the big spoon and comforting you.

truly just depends on the day and mood.

something to point out since mood was mentioned, yuu knows exactly how to comfort you well with his words and it’s a little surprising sometimes.

he likes knowing he has the ability to cheer you up but if you’re someone who wants to be left alone sometimes then noya lets you be for few before coming back and asking if you want to cuddle, talk or do something.

vvv sweet. almost teeth rotting sweet.

but cuddles is must with him. don’t argue with me about it.

side note; if you two have a size difference.. he doesn’t care. actually likes it since he knows he can bury his face into your chest whenever you two cuddle. you don’t even have to have big boobs either— just let him rest there and he won’t complain.

that’s the ultimate dream right there for him. would happily sleep there any time and day.

hmm nicknames? nicknames.

this part is gonna be a bit short because yuu is built differently.

for sure he calls you babe and baby but occasionally he’ll come up with the most weirdest pet names (like how he created the name ‘rolling thunder’) for you.

sometimes it just leaves you wondering how you’ve managed to come this far with him but we’ll never know.

again, something short so now we’re on to dates.

off the rip, study dates are on there.

“come on babe! we could go on better dates than this...”

“yuu... your last test scores were below 70% and i’m just trying to help you pass so you can continue being apart of volleyball.”

“i know but can’t we—”

“if you can pack most of this down and answer 3 questions right, i’ll kiss you, maybe even cuddle and we can go out for ice cream too. although you’re paying.”

“say less.”

gotta keep this boy using his brain and he actually does better with grades now because of you. 

besides that, most of the dates you’ve two gone on were; picnics, roller skating, watching the sunset, ice dream dates, and anything that fits both of your personalities (if that makes any sense)

def takes a bunch of polaroid pictures of you, keeps them in his phone case and wallet. can’t convince me he doesn’t.

also shows them off to tanaka and the team about how gorgeous you are too. just regular simp behavior.

side fact: yuu writes down whatever song played first during the dates you two go on and writes them on the white part of the polaroids. 

also made a playlist for you that spells out a secret message if you pay close attention to the titles.

i’m gonna end this (before my brain short circuits)— dating nishinoya is fun. this short king deserves all the love in the world so BE THE ONE THAT GIVES IT TO HIM.

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