#I know some have traces of other elements but I needed to put them into one

[strawberrysturniolo]

need a sub chris asap. giving you creative freedom but major sub/mommy vibes

wet dreams //sub!chris

summary: you decide to please your boyfriend when you see him experiencing a sex dream. sub!chris. mommy kink. male!receiving. use of vibrator on male.

Sleepovers at my boyfriend's house are nightly at this point. I practically live with him. I have a toothbrush here, a caddy in the shower filled with my necessities, a drawer of extra clothes, a few pairs of shoes, an extra charger. There’s even some decor that is mine. 

People are often surprised to find that me and Chris don’t technically live together. I just spend so much time with him, and he insists that he sleeps better with someone else in his bed. I have been told by his brothers that he’s tired of him trying to cuddle them while he sleeps. I’m here to fill that void. 

I woke up earlier than him today. That’s never surprising. I may not be a true early bird, but compared to Chris, I’m up at the crack of dawn. 

I put on some clean clothes, walking around the bedroom and watching him stir in his sleep. His mouth started out parted slightly, but every so often, a soft gasp left his lips and forced them open more. When his mouth wasn’t open, his lips were pressed together. 

I found myself watching him as he made subtle sounds. As time went on, he turned to his stomach, and my stomach dropped, knowing what was happening. 

His soft moans turned into low grunts as he started pressing his crotch into the mattress, his hips shifting ever so slightly. His toned back flexed as he moved, his briefs tight around his ass, and I only imagined the sight of his dick begging to be freed from the fabric. 

I swallowed harshly as I watched him, standing in shock. I knew he had sex dreams. He had told me about them before. He had them frequently. Maybe it was a guy thing, or maybe he was just horny all the time. I just had never seen it happen before my eyes. 

I made small, careful steps to the bed, making sure not to wake him. I want to see how far this will go. 

A sharp gasp left his throat, making me freeze. 

“Fuck,” he muttered before turning his head to the other side. His hand clutched a pillow, gripping it tightly. I was dying to know what he was dreaming of. What we were doing. How we were touching each other. 

I was struggling to keep myself together as I watched. I lowered myself to the bed, sitting down softly and moving next to him, watching him up close. 

His forehead had a small bead of sweat dripping from his skin. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed shut as his desperate sounds of pleasure seeped out of him. 

It went on for a few minutes before he turned onto his back. He was still asleep, but his dick was throbbing inside of his underwear. I could see it twitch as his dream went on. A wet spot lingered on the gray fabric, growing by the second. 

An element of our sex life that had been discussed was the idea of consensual non-consent – an idea of us being more than okay with the other person waking us up with a sexual act. I had always been hesitant about the idea. I didn’t want to wake him up and have him complain about being too tired throughout the day just so we could have sex. 

But this was different. He was obviously desperate. He was practically fucking the mattress begging for a release. I had to help him. He would want me to. 

I carefully traced my fingers on his left thigh, feeling the soft hair that decorated his tan skin. He twitched a little more in his sleep, and his sounds of approval were enough to encourage me to go all the way. 

I placed my hand over his bulge, the wetness seeping through finding my palm. My heart is racing as I wait for him to wake up. He lets out a gasp at my touch, bucking his hips harshly. 

He’s still asleep.

A few minutes passed. My hand continued to stroke his dick as his moans grew. I expected him to wake up at this point, but everything I am doing is probably just pushing into his dream. He has no reason to wake up because he is getting everything he needs while he sleeps. 

A loud moan leaves his mouth, making my eyes shoot open. I carefully peel down the waistband of his underwear, watching as his tip leaks. I spread some of the pre-cum around his tip with my thumb before licking over his slit. 

“Please, baby,” he whines. “Please.”

I take him in my mouth, my tongue swirling around his length. As his moans grow, I shake him by his shoulder while I suck him off, waking him up so he can bask in what’s real rather than his dream. 

His eyes open softly. He looks groggy and confused momentarily before he realizes that this pleasure is real. His head falls backwards and he lifts a hand to my hair, pushing my head down on him. 

“Fuck baby,” he groans. 

“What were you dreaming about?” I ask, pulling off of him and stroking him instead.

He shakes his head. “Don’t stop.”

I grip his balls, making him gasp. “Tell me.”

“You were bouncing on my dick,” he breathes out. “You held a vibrator to your clit. You were writhing on me, clenching like crazy. But every so often the vibrator would hit my tip. It was so much.”

I’ve never used a vibrator on him, but now I’m more tempted than ever.

“You want me to use a vibrator on you?” I ask.

His eyes widen. He nods frantically.

I spit on his tip. “Are you gonna speak or act pathetic for me and struggle to get words out?”

“I’m gonna talk,” he promises. “Please. I wanna try it.”

I nod, sucking his tip a little bit more before I lean over to my nightstand and grab my bullet vibrator. My theory is that starting small would be a better option for him before we use one that is bigger and could work on his entire dick. I want him to feel comfortable with this first. 

His dick is twitching relentlessly as he waits for my touch again. I love seeing him like this. He’s always dominant during sex. I never get to see the submissive side of him. It makes me feel powerful, and I crave control of him in this area of our lives. 

I turn on the vibrator, letting him hear the sound of the buzzing so he can decide if he wants to continue. His stomach heaves. 

“Please,” he whines. “I need you to touch me.” 

“Yeah?” I tease. I lick a stripe up his cock again. “How bad do you need me to touch you?”

“So bad.”

I lean my body over him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his mouth. “You gonna be a good boy for me?”

Something in his eyes changes.

“I’ll be so good for you, mommy.”

Oh hell.

I slide back down to his dick, jerking him slowly with one hand before I trace the vibrator around his tip. His hips buck hard before I press them back down to the bed. 

“Don’t you dare,” I warn. 

“I’m sorry,” he cries out. “Ohhhh fuck. Please. It’s so good. Oh my god.”

The sounds he’s making are unlike anything I’ve ever heard from him. He’s whining, whimpering, panting, begging for me. It’s taking everything in me to continue to tease him, wanting to edge him from his high.

“I can’t- Fuck. I need to cum,” he says. “Please. Please, I need to.”

I shake my head. “Not yet.” 

He lets out a desperate cry. “Please!”

“Gotta be a good boy, baby,” I remind him. 

“I’m being so good,” he whimpers. His eyes are full, tears almost pouring out as he struggles to hold back.

“I know baby,” I nod, knowing he needs that praise and validation right now. I drag the vibrator up and down his cock before pressing it to his tip again as I stroke the area. 

“Fuck!” he shouts, his hips raising again with no control as he cums, catching us both by surprise. My eyes widen before I look up, meeting his eyes. He’s shaking his head like crazy as he continues to cum. “I’m so sorry, mommy. Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please.”

I let him finish before I remove the vibrator, tossing it to the floor. I press soft kisses from his stomach up to his lips before peppering his face in kisses. “It’s okay, baby. Did so good for me, hm?”

He nods breathlessly. “Thank you for waking me up, but now I really need to go back to sleep. I’m exhausted.” 

I smile. “Let’s go shower and get back in bed, okay?”

He nods, pressing a tired kiss to my cheek before pulling himself out of bed. 

@freshloveforthefit @lacysturniolo @mattitties @floofparker @javalakers @creamoncreamoncream2 @heebiejeebiezz @sturnswrites @runupthathillgirl @gdsvhtwa @666hellokitty420 @runupthathillgirl

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #strawberrysturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 47

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: hi again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You give up on escape. You don't want to upset Loki any more than he already is. You go back to the bed and sit against the headboard as you think. It would be a lot easier if you weren't here so why has he locked you in? 

The laptop continues to play the show you've lost track of. You wring your hands and close your eyes, skull pulsing as your nose throbs. The smell of grass and snarling grunts fill your head and you force your eyes open. You're in that room, not there…

You reach over to the cell phone on the night table and bring up Loki's conversation. 

“May I have some water?” You send the text and sigh. He said if you need anything, to ask.

You wait, not certain if he's seen the message or even if he'll answer your request.

Some minutes pass as you examine your palm, tracing the lines listlessly. You might be waiting for nothing. It feels like you've been doing that all your life.

You slump down and mindlessly stare at the laptop. You run your fingertips lightly over your bruises and the thin cuts on your arms. The movement raises goosebumps on your skin.

You might take a bath, it might calm you. Maybe that's what you need. You can't figure out what exactly that is, just warmth, just... certainty.

You sit up but stop yourself as you hear the lock click. You glance over as the door opens little by little. Loki enters, gingerly balancing a tea cup in one hand.

"I forgot," he says as he speaks quietly, "I thought perhaps you might be sleeping."

"Oh, uh, thanks," you turn your legs over the edge of the bed and fold your hands one over the other. You watch him place the cup and saucer on the night table.

"Not at all, my pleasure," he assures, taking a pointed step back as he faces you. "Are you hungry? Or perhaps you require another blanket--"

"Why did you lock the door?"

He blinks and raises his chin. For once, he doesn't have an answer ready. He looks at the door then back to you.

"To keep you safe," he replies as if it's obvious.

"I am... aren't I? It's just us--"

"It is only an extra measure. Last night..." he trails off, his green eyes flitting back and forth, "we needn't talk of it but we know now we can never be too safe."

You frown, "but... but you don't need to lock me in--"

"I must," he insists and throws his hands up, marching away, "if you only require tea, then I must return to my work."

"Loki," you stand, "I want..." you hesitate, "I want you to lay down. You don't need to work. You need to rest."

"Me?" He presses his hand to his chest, "I'm quite well, thank you."

You shake your head, "I don't think--"

"I will be back again to check on you," he dismisses as he spins away, "enjoy the tea."

Before you can argue further, he's gone. The door snaps shut behind him and you rush forward. The lock loudly grinds into place and you wiggle the handle.

"Loki," you slap the door, "please..."

You hear his footsteps on the other side, walking away from your pleas. You huff and let your forehead rest against the wood. What is wrong with him?

✨

After a long but unsoothing soak in the tub, you return to bed. You put on a movie, and lay on your side as you curl up. You don't know what else to with yourself. You don't have the energy to bang or holler at the door.

The windows darken and cast a haze over you, adding to the darkness creeping through the silent house. You wish it would just be over. That he'd stop feeling sorry for you and just send you off. The only reason he hasn't is because you look like a beat cat. You saw yourself in the mirror, you are pathetic.

You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling. The lock once more ticks. You lift your head as Loki enters. This time, with a tray. He places it on the dresser then comes to take your empty cup.

"Dinner, pet," he announces.

You sit up, leaning on the heels of your hands, "have you eaten?"

"Don't worry for me," he chimes in a shallow tone, "you must eat."

You push yourself straight and cross your arms, "will you eat with me?"

"I'm not hungry," he clinks the cup on the saucer.

"You should eat anyway--"

"I have," he interjects so quickly he must be lying.

"Loki," you stand and once more he's on the retreat.

"Please," you step closer and he evades you. "Why are you doing this? What did I do?"

He stops, just by the door. He clutches the cup tightly.

"You did nothing," he says, "and I should've done more."

He turns without another word, before you can think of any response, and leaves you to ponder his cryptic statement. You sigh and listen for the lock. Click. You look over at the tray of food.

There's enough for two there. More than. If he'd just come back, you'd share it with him and you could talk. 

If you weren't so afraid of talking, maybe life wouldn't be like this. If you'd been braver with your dad, asked him why he didn't love you, asked him what you could've done to make him. You think you're done being quiet.

Your stomach growls loudly as the scent of the pasta tugs at your nose. You near the dress and consider the heaping plate. It was nice of him but he shouldn't have to keep you like a mouse in a cage.

✨

Loki returns to gather your unfinished dinner. He doesn't linger, once more abandoning you to silence. You lay in bed, alone. He doesn't return.

The morning arrives and you get up to look out the window. You take in the greenery below, longing to sit among it. You open the pane as far as it will go and let in the scent of pollen and dew. The song of birds only has you distraught. You’ve never felt more desolate.

You shut the window and go back to bed. You’re exhausted. You can’t worry anymore. Not about him or even you. The dread is eating you up. You can’t fight the inevitable. So you’ll just let it happen. You give up.

You cocoon yourself in the blankets and close your eyes. You drift into a vague sleep. You hear the door and Loki’s voice but pretend to be asleep. You don’t want to talk to him when you won’t get much of a response. He can just get it over with already or leave you alone.

You slip back into unconsciousness. When you wake again, there’s a cup of cold tea and porridge waiting for you. You eat the gummy oats in stale milk and sip the tea. You roll back into the thick duvet and cling to the only escape you have; sleep.

The day passes in that pattern. You wake to nothing at all or a glass of water, a clementine, a turkey sandwich… The only marker of time is the hue leaking in through the window. The night welcomes you kindly into darkness and you sleep deeper than before. 

Another morning. Your head aches. You can’t sleep anymore. You can’t keep hiding in the blackness.

You moan and watch the sunlight on the ceiling. Loki lets himself in, the click of the lock announcing his arrival. He puts a cup of tea on the nightstand.

“Good morning,” he greets.

You don’t answer. He stands straight and peers down at you as you ignore his gaze. He hovers.

“Would you like me to draw you a bath?” He asks.

You blink and stay silent. You refuse to move.

“Pet…” he says tentatively.

You roll your back to him, “leave me alone.”

You hear him inhale but he keeps from his retort. He hums and clucks. His footsteps trail away from you, the door shutting gently right before the lock slides into the slot. If he’s going to lock you up, you’ll do the same. You’ll lock it all inside.

You don’t touch the tea. You get up to sit by the window and watch the cardinal soar in red smears in and out of the trees. Blue jays hop along branches and grackles peck at the grass. You cup your chin and lean on the window ledge as you imagine yourself out there.

The sun reaches its peak but Loki doesn’t show. Good. At least you understand each other. Your stomach growls but you ignore it. You go into the bathroom and draw another bath. You bask in the heat and emerge, less than refreshed as the grimness remains.

You knot a towel above your chest and stand at the mirror to change the bandages on your nose. The doctor told you how before he set his attention on Loki. You do your best to remember what he said. You finish, nose thrumming.

You go into the bedroom and stop short. Loki’s there at the foot of the bed. He looks at you as you enter. There’s some stubble around his jaw and his hair is uncombed.

“You are upset,” he says.

You shrug and cross your arms.

“You should be, I failed you,” he begins, “my brother…”

“Not that,” you say. “Loki, let me out.”

He leans back on his heel and peers over at the door. He returns his gaze to you, eyes narrowing. His jaw clenches and his throat tightens.

“Why?” He asks, “you’re safe here.”

You heave, “I’m tired. You need to let me go. You don’t want me and I don’t want this. I don’t want to be stuck inside forever. I don’t want to be a burden anymore…”

“You can’t go,” he shakes his head, “why… you think I don’t want you?”

You sniff and gulp tightly, “I’ll be okay. I’m feeling better and you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“I want you,” he says.

“No you don’t. You barely look at me. You leave me here all alone. You won’t sleep beside me, you won’t let me touch you. That’s what we agreed to, or maybe I misunderstood.”

He lowers his chin and sucks in his cheeks. He shifts on his feet and flutters his fingers at his side. He’s silent as you wait for his final word. Go, get out, leave.

“Loki!” You scare yourself as your voice rises, “you have to talk to me. You can’t do this. You can’t keep me here and just ignore me. You can’t… keep me in this prison.”

“Pet…” he murmurs, “I have to… I have to…”

“I can’t– I can’t do this. If you won’t tell me to go, then I’ll just go,” you warble, shaking, “I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

You go to the dresser and hastily grab clothes. You look at them, all you need is a top and a bottom, you must have some shoes on the mat. You storm towards the door but he catches your arm and spins you back, inserting himself in your path.

“Loki,” you clutch the clothing to your chest as you rip away from him. You back up, facing him as he blocks the door. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do this.”

He startles you as suddenly he’s charging at you. You stumble back, dropping the clothing as you backpedal away from him. Your heart lodges in your throat as flames lick in his irises. You hit the door frame as he corners you by the wall. 

His hands come up to frame your face and he leans in to kiss you. You squeak as his nose brushes your painfully and he grips you tightly, urging his tongue between your lips. You touch his arm, squeezing it as he devours you.

His urgency is terrifying. His arm loops around you as he presses himself against you, crushing you to the wall. He enshrines you and you hit the dresser as he throws you off balance. He staggers with you as you bounce off the wood. He keeps you against him, clinging to your lips as he moves blindly around the room.

You hit the footboard then the bedpost, grunting into his mouth as breathes you in. He stops you at the side of the bed and lifts you off your feet, breaking away to toss you onto the bed. You cry out as he crawls onto you, penning you in as he holds himself above you. He pants down at you as you writhe and whine.

“Loki…” you gasp.

“I want you,” he repeats, “I want you. You are mine,” he lowers himself to kiss your lips again, “all mine,” he pecks your cheek, “you belong to me.” His lips make a path along your jaw and down your neck.

You squirm as he covers you in kiss, tickling down your neck and across your shoulders. The towel slackens and falls open as he pins you down, your knees splayed around his. His fingertips brush along your skin as he dotes on every inch. Just along your chest as he follows the curve of it.

You look down at his dark hair, hanging in a disarray of coil. You clutch the blankets beneath you and murmur. He stops and flips back his locks, looking at you. His gaze gleams with desperation. His hand frames one side of your chest and his eyes cling to yours as he slowly leans down to kiss the swell of your breast.

“I will show you how I want you,” he rasps.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

[knitnightstudio]

Ed's Emerald Ring, a love story

I am going to repost this with a few new ideas and some pictures that are actually decent.

This is Part 1: The Proof

The Emerald ring Ed wears in season 2 of OFMD is Stede's ring.

The emerald ring is too big for Ed. Stede's rings are canonically too big for Ed. In 1x4 when they change clothes, Stede's rings on Ed's hands are lopsided the entire time. Ed's usual rings fit him well. The Emerald ring is also lopsided nearly the entire time. There is NO reason for Gypsy Taylor to make Taika Waititi wear a ring that doesn't fit unless there was a specific reason that it needed to be too big.

Stede's rings on Ed, too big for him:

The Emerald ring on Ed, also too big

If the ring was part of his plunder Ed would have gotten rid of it in 2x6 when he called his plunder poison. He got rid of most or all of his plunder, but he kept the emerald ring, why? Because it isn't tied to piracy. Even if he did keep some of his plunder, we know he considers it to be poison, so why would he keep something that was stolen so close to him? on his body all the time? I simply don't believe that he would keep something close to his heart that came from the thing he is trying to escape.

When Ed drops his leathers overboard in 2x7 he still keeps the emerald ring. If the ring had some attachment to the leathers he would have sunk it with the rest of his stuff.

The ring is Stede's color. Stede spends a majority of his time in green/sea green clothing, Stede's main ring is sea green. The captain's cabin has a lot of green elements. Nearly every outfit he wears has at least a trace of green in it, even before he leaves his wife. The "exquisite cashmere" that Ed rubs on his face has a lot of green in it. Stede's bed sheets also have green in them. Most of the time we see Stede's daughter she is also in green, not sure what to make of that other then connecting them to each other.

Interestingly, the first non green outfit that we see Stede wear after meeting Ed is Purple, Ed's color

Ed has a history of keeping stuff that signifies Stede close to him. We see this when he wears Stede's black scarf for most of season 1 and puts it back on right before he sails into the storm in season 2.

The only reason for Ed to keep a piece of jewelry THAT DOESN'T FIT is if the meaning was divorced from piracy and special to him, and the only thing in his life that comes close to that is Stede.

thus ends part 1. I'll be back with part 2 in a bit

#blackbeard x stede #ed x stede #edward x stede #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd stede #lgbt pride #emerald #green #blackbeard #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #ofmd 2 #our flag means death spoilers #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd season one #taika waititi #rhys darby #david jenkins #renew as a crew

[in1-nutshell]

I lied, I don't want Megatron's confession constantly getting interrupted. I want them to kiss, I wanna see Megatron being a simp for his small spider wife.

bonus

Optimus - Thank you for putting aside our differences and meeting me here. And I'd like it to be known that right now, I am not speaking to you as autobot to decepticon but as mech to mech. With that being said, I will find a way to kill you if you hurt buddy

SHOVEL TALK PLS

another thing to tag on, Im sorry I only got ideas after requests are closed, i hope when you see this you have a nice day and drink water.

Will we finally get the confession? Yes? No? You'll have to find out.

I had other request similar to this one so this will have some of their elements too.

Better context, read the last Elita One's twin sister post

Hope you enjoy!

Elita One's twin sister and Megatron confessions?

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronain (techno organic) reader

TFA

All Decepticon projects had halted when Buddy disappeared through that portal.

Not that anyone would object to it anyways.

Everyone was worried about where Buddy would end up.

Blitzwing’s personalities all agreed to work together to find her, causing a near cohesive flow.

Near, the faces would sometimes have a fit over little details in the search.

Starscream halted all his plans to overthrow Megatron until Buddy was found.

Lugnut messaged Strika to keep an optic out on the space bridges they were thinking about taking in case Buddy was around.

Shockwave was also notified about Buddy sudden disappearance.

Megatron was by far the most worried in the group.

He could still see Buddy trying to reach for his servo.

After 3 days of searching Megatron knew what he had to do.

He didn’t like it, but Buddy’s life potentially at risk and time was at the essence now.

The entire Decepticon group had flown to the city and landed in the center of the park.

There was no way he was going to message the smaller Prime, but at least showing up would do something to alert the Autobots.

Within no time most of the Autobots had shown up at the park.

Megatron walking towards Optimus.

Optimus walks to him.

They meet in the middle.

“Megatron.”--Optimus

“Prime. I have news.”--Megatron

Optimus doesn’t like the look Megatron is giving him.

They look frightened.

What could possibly…

“Megatron, where’s Buddy?”--Optimus

Megatron looks down a bit and clenches his servo.

“A portal opened inside the base. We were—I was unable to stop her from getting sucked inside.”--Megatron

Optimus and the Team’s optics go wide.

“How? When?”--Optimus

“Three days ago. We have not found a trace of Buddy.”--Megatron

“Do you think that she may have been kidnapped again?”--Optimus

“Not likely. There would have been traces of…”--Megatron

Optimus clenches his axe.

“How can we help?”--Optimus

“Firstly, a truce needs to be—”--Megatron

Optimus shakes his servo with Megatron.

“All right, next?”--Optimus

Optimus managed his team to start looking for Buddy.

Prowl and Bulkhead went to Dinobot Island to see if Buddy was around.

They came across Dinobot’s there.

They were worried that Buddy hadn’t shown up either.

Grimlock managed to organize the Dinobots to help with the search.

Ratchet, Bumblebee and Sari searched more in the city for Buddy.

Optimus managed to get in contact with Elita and tell her what was going on.

She nearly turned the entire ship around hearing that.

“Elita you can’t come back to Earth without the right jurisdiction.”--Optimus

“Optimus, Buddy is in trouble. My twin needs my help.”--Elita

“I’m with Prime on this one Elita.”--Sentinel

“What?”--Elita

“What?”--Optimus

“We have orders to get back to Cybertron and that’s what they expect. They don’t know Buddy is still alive. Ultra Magnus still doesn’t know. It’s going to give us and Buddy more trouble if we go back.”--Sentinel

“…Fine.”--Elita

“We’ll keep an optic out on our end Optimus.”--Sentinel

“Thank you, both of you.”--Optimus

“Optimus, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you know.”--Jazz

“Megatron told me.”--Optimus

“…Come again.”--Jazz

“He told us he needed help finding Buddy. She’s been gone for three days.”--Optimus

“Three days?!”--Elita

“How do you know this isn’t a trap? How do you know that Megatron isn’t lying?”--Sentinel

“Trust me, he wouldn’t be lying about Buddy.”--Optimus

“How—”--Sentinel

“Trust me on this.”--Optimus

“…I hope you’re right.”--Elita

A few days later…

Megatron is flying around early in the morning when he sees that same blasted portal open in the middle of the sky.

Something shoots out of it and the portal closes.

He looks closer at the thing and nearly has a spark attack.

It was Buddy.

“WHY CAN’T I HAVE A SAFE LANDING?!”--Buddy

Megatron dives down and grabs Buddy’s waist slowing her descent and flies upwards.

Buddy has her optics shut closed preparing for the worst.

“Buddy?”--Megatron

Buddy opens her optics and sees the shocked optics of Megatron.

Her Megatron.

“Megatron?”--Buddy

Megatron just pulls her in a tight hug.

Buddy does her best to hug back.

“I…I thought…”--Megatron

“Megatron, even after all this time, you still doubt me?”--Buddy

Megatron gives her a slightly unamused look.

“You know what I mean.”—Megatron

Buddy giggles a bit.

“I do, but sometimes it too easy with you.”--Buddy

“Too easy?”--Megatron

“Yes, like this.”--Buddy

Buddy cups both her servos on Megatron’s faceplate.

Megatron’s optics grow slightly but close them when she starts gently stroking her digit on his face.

“Is this fine?”--Buddy

Megatron just nods.

“I missed you.”--Buddy

“As did I.”--Megatron

Megatron looks at Buddy’s optics longingly.

“I love you.”--Megatron

Megatron’s optics go wide as the three words slipped out of his mouth.

Buddy’s optics went wide but then a happy smile graces her face as she pressed her helm against his.

He leans in too.

“It’s a good thing I feel the same way too then.”--Buddy

“Feel what?”--Megatron

“Love. I love you Megatron. I love you so.”--Buddy

Megatron lets a smile loose and closes his optics focusing on the moment with Buddy’s helm still resting on his.

They both come back to the park after Megatron let everyone know that she was okay.

The Decepticon’s want to high tail it to the park, but Megatron tells them to get back to the base.

Begrudgingly they agree.

Optimus is the first one to arrive at the park and tackles Buddy down.

Optimus locking Buddy in a tight hug on the ground.

“Don’t you ever do that again! Do you hear me!?”--Optimus

Buddy just chuckles and hugs him back.

Optimus helps Buddy get off from the floor.

Budy moves her way back to Megatron’s side and takes his servo in hers.

Optimus gives Buddy a look before getting the message.

Optimus turns to Megatron flashing the axe in his servo.

“I thank you for putting the war aside for Buddy, I do. And right now, still has nothing to do with the war, but as mech to mech.”--Optimus

Optimus gives him his best death glare.

“If you ever hurt her in anyway, shape, form, and I find out… You’re going to have to deal with me. And you wont like the ways I deal with things angrily; you can ask Buddy that.”--Optimus

Buddy having flashbacks to Optimus fighting a whole group of cadets because they hurt her.

She had tried to get Elita and Sentinel to get him to stop, but in the end the two joined in.

Megatron looks at the Prime for a moment before taking out his other servo.

“You have my word, Optimus Prime. For what ever its worth to you.”--Megatron

Optimus shakes it before giving Buddy one last hug.

Prime transforms and gets back to the plant to call off the search party.

After getting buried in more hugs and light scoldings, there is a mini celebration at the base for finding Buddy.

Buddy had to make many calls during the party to make sure everyone knew she was okay.

“I see the Spider survived.”--Strika

“Yes, I did Strika. I’m home.”--Buddy

“I must ask what happened though. Megatron had most of the projects stopped to go look for you.”--Strika

Buddy blushes a bit at the comment.

“Well, that’s a story for the next time you come over.”--Buddy

“I see, but one last question.”--Strika

“Yes?”--Buddy

Strika points to Buddy’s servo that is off screen.

Buddy lifts it up a bit showing Megatron’s servo carefully intertwined with hers still.

Strika’s optics go wide.

Buddy smiles sweetly.

“Hmm…I believe I’ll have to make my visit sooner then.”--Strika

“Okay then! Bye Strika!”--Buddy

Strika cuts the video call.

Megatron squeezes her servo a bit.

Buddy smiles and squeezes back.

SLAM!

Megatron and Buddy jump at the sound.

Megatron pulls Buddy closer still holding her servo.

“Lord Megatron we have the—”--Lugnut

Lugnut zeroes in on the servos.

“Oh… My…”--Lugnut

“Umm, Lugnut? Are you—”--Buddy

“ITS HAPPENING! ITS HAPPENING!”--Lugnut

“What?”--Megatron

Starscream and Blitzwing come running in and spot Megatron’s servo in Buddy’s.

Blitzwing throws his servos in the air with utter joy and relief.

“Finally! It’s over now!”--Blitzwing

“What’s over now?”--Buddy

“The endless pinning! You two have been pinning over each other for years and finally, FINALLY got together!”--Starscream

Buddy hides half of her face with her other servo.

Megatron feels embarrassed but knows that he can’t really punish them for this.

It was torture for him too.

Megatron drags Buddy away from the cheering mechs.

“Have fun you two!”--Starscream

Megatron stops and gets ready to go back and punch Starscream.

“Megatron no.”--Buddy

Megatron follows Buddy as if nothing happened.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfa x reader #tfa x platonic reader #tfa optimus prime #tfa megatron x reader #tfa megatron #Elita One's twin sister

[bomberqueen17]

stencils

ah i did the stencils on tuesday and i forgot to post about it! i have been Out Of Sorts lately and also i remembered how to post on instagram so i put it there and then forgot i had not put it here.

BEHOLD

[image description: a teal wall with yellow-orange trim, stenciled with a tiled pattern of metallic gold stars over the entire surface]

I bought this stencil and some metallic gold "stencil creme" paint, and a stencil brush, and just spent an entire day doing it.

Yeah I should've started at the top left and worked over, but I started at the middle right and worked out instead. i might go back and add points to the top border and circles to the left border. Not sure. Not urgent either way.

The directions they give you on the website mention that a dry brush is critical to stenciling success, and this is a thing I did already know; i have stenciled mostly t-shirts in my time, with dumb bullshit stencils I cut out of manila folders. But they tell you to load up the brush and then take most of the paint off the brush with paper towels, and let me tell you my stencil creme pot barely covered this wall and would not have if I'd put most of the paint onto perfectly good paper towels. So what I did instead is, I went to the grocery store and I got a cannoli, and then I washed out the container it came in, and then I cut the container at the hinges and made myself two paint trays, and one of them I used as a pallette to mix the paints for the outlet covers, and the other half I used as a roller tray to paint the windowsill, then rinsed and used for this. I had that plastic tray nice and dry and I loaded up the brush and then worked that brush around on the plastic, and it was good and dry and then when I came back I could pick up the paint I'd offloaded onto that plastic, and use almost all of it. And later in the process I added a few drops of water to that pallette, and I was able to thin the paint just a tiny bit, just enough to get it to flow a little better but not so much it went under the edges of the stencil.

[image description: a white-stained clear plastic tray with a pot of gold paint sitting in it, a stencil brush propped on the edge, faint traces and blobs of gold paint swirled around it.] when I added a few drops of water they'd collect in the fluted bits around the edges, so if I wanted them I could go swipe the brush there, and if I didn't they stayed out of the way.

I could have been more exacting and precise in my stencil placement, but I knew I had to just do it, so I just did it. Used a level, discovered that the level disagreed with the ceiling and the floor, remembered that this house like all houses is in fact handmade, and so my imperfections would just have to harmonize with the imperfections built in by the builders and the 75 years of settling and whatnot. So I was Zen about it and it worked out.

[image description: a wide shot of the kitchen showing gray cabinets and unadorned blue wall: the stencil is spotless, taped up with blue painter's tape, a stepladder beneath it with a yellow level sitting on it.]

I used painter's tape. The tutorials say you can spray the back of the stencil with spray adhesive to keep it tight against the wall and reduce bleed at the edges. I own spray adhesive, and I know it's sticky as hell and gets on everything. No thanks, I figured I didn't need it, and I don't regret that, I had no problems. I have, as it happens, stenciled a lot of things in my life.

I should make some more stupid stenciled t-shirts, they've been fun.

[image source: two repeats of the stencil have been applied to the wall, and now the plastic stencil template is taped sideways at the bottom of the wall.]

It's a well-designed stencil, and the way you lined it up is that some of the elements are designed to repeat so you just plop them over the previous version. I hadn't premeditated or measured this, but it turned out the last repeat, I could just turn it sideways and it tiled beautifully that way too. No problems. Worked great. The stencil creme paint dried fast enough that there was no problem overlaying it like this either, though I did make a point of doing the ones I was going to overlap first so they'd have the longest to dry. I doubt that mattered.

[image description: the stencil template laid over the edge of a previous repeat, showing a blue edge where the previous repeat doesn't quite align with the new placement.]

This is where me not doing math was maybe a problem. I was not perfectionist about this, I just sometimes accepted that the template had shifted slightly on the previous repeat, and while it lined up perfectly in one spot, it would not quite line up in another. I gambled that this would not matter, and in fact took this photo to check. After I removed the template this time, I went back to photograph this spot to see how the misalignment looked, and... couldn't find it. Could not tell, even though I knew where it had been. So obviously it did not matter. (In these cases, I did not touch up the edges of the misaligned bits, I left them as they'd originally been stenciled. The other elements were not far enough off the anticipated alignment for it to be noticeable. A touch-up would have been more noticeable, an element becoming oversized or slightly misshapen or having a visible edge of layered pigment in it.)

[image description: the stencil template crammed against the edge of the wall, bent and roughly taped in place, and the light switch, plate removed, poking through one of the holes at the right.]

This was the trickiest bit. I just held one hand against wherever I was working, flattening that bit of the stencil to the wall as I worked, and then I'd let go and put my hand on the next bit, and maybe they weren't perfectly in alignment with the previous bits but as long as the stencil was touching the wall well right where I was working, it was a good enough result. The light switch was a bit of a problem and i should properly have removed it but I wasn't about to do that so I didn't. I did the inward-facing points of the leftmost stars, and then did not try to do the upward-downward points or the circles, because it was too hard to get the stencil flat right there. I could go back and add them now, and I might yet, using the very edge of the template, We'll see if I do. It looks fine as it is.

[image description: a plain blue wall with a double outlet plate in it, and the points of the eight-pointed star are around it, protruding from behind the lightswitch plate.]

I had always intended to stencil an element behind the light switch plates on the plain walls, because I felt they don't stand out enough against the teal. I did one, and then realized it was impossible to center it and hard not to get paint on other bits of the walls, since the stencil template is so huge and was covered in paint from doing the whole wall. I realized then that it's just points and I could freehand those. So I did, this is me freehand faux-stenciling the star around this outlet plate, LOL.

[image description: the darkened kitchen early in the morning, under-cabinet lights on but the room dim, and in the distance the wall is shining]

anyway so the next morning i went out and was sitting at the window and turned around and was like "this looks amazing" so I am well pleased with how it turned out, really and truly.

#about the author #kitchen remodel #stencils #painting

[celluloidbroomcloset]

sorry about this, it's been on my mind for a while, relating to your celebrity discourse post.

You're right in pointing out TW has been treated unfairly. He puts his foot in his mouth sometimes (there are times I just wish he wouldn't say anything or at least think it through). HOWEVER, since last year it's become extremely common to take things he says out of context and use them for rage bait clicks. And often when he does get 'criticism' its often for something he either didn't say at all or something that, while not great, has been twisted and overblown to look much worse.

What frustrates me is a lot of people seem to be doing this on purpose. It's like they're watching and waiting for him to step a toe out of line so they can rile people up on Twitter.

I don't think I need to point out a lot of white celebrities have done exactly the same or worse things than him, and don't recieve the same level of backlash.

I dont think you have to be a TW stan or even fan to acknowledge that while he's made mistakes-like literally every human- he's also being treated with more vitriol than is fair.

I'll start out by saying that I'm a veteran of Film Twitter, and I've seen some of the weirdest takes known to God or humankind, from people who purport to both critique and report on film and artists in cinema (I am no longer on Twitter). I'd trace the very weird hatred of Taika Waititi to around Jojo Rabbit, when a cadre of people very loudly proclaimed it to somehow be pro-fascist (it is not, and I'm saying that as someone who has fucking studied propaganda and Nazi-era filmmaking).

There have been other things blown out of proportion in his personal life, about which I do not believe anyone should interfere or discuss in any way because it's none of our fucking business.

My observation of him as a filmmaker and writer is that he's very intelligent, tries to be thoughtful, and also, as you say, often speaks without thinking. He has said things that I do not agree with, and will not try to defend. But many of the things he has said that gained traction on Twitter have either been taken out of context, deliberately misconstrued, or oversimplified. The biggest and least problematic example are his comments about how "no one knows who directed Casablanca," which was made in the context of how he doesn't care or expect his name to be remembered, because the art is the thing (and, TBH, I agree - I know who directed Casablanca, but a lot of people who know the film will have no fucking idea, and why should they?). I am not kidding when I say that this provoked several days of argument on Film Twitter. His most recent comments have been taken entirely out of context (no, I'm not going to start fighting about them, that's not the point). If someone disagrees with him, they should at the very least disagree about what he said, not what they pretend that he said.

Some of this is just the nature of Twitter itself, and celebrity culture. There's just not much nuance and there is an awful lot of - excuse me - dingbats who don't understand media half as well as they think they do. The other element is that there is indeed a rather nasty desire to scrutinize things that are said by...pretty much everyone who is not a straight white cisgender man, and use them as cudgels to beat those people "back into their place."

I do not know Taika Waititi. I do not pretend to know what he thinks, nor do I particularly care. I do know what I see in his art, and I appreciate a lot of it. But, yes, he is being scrutinized and jumped on in a way that a fuck lot of particularly white male filmmakers are not.

#reply #ofmd #taika waititi #i will not be fighting about this because this is not about defending him #trust me i have fought these fights and they are exhausting and i don't have the time for it

[fandomxpreferences]

God Bless Texas

Pairing: cowboy!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader

Summary: Jake takes you back to Texas and things go south when a man tries to claim something that's not his. (Based on this request)

TW: fighting, mentions of blood, sexual tension

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This made me think of “Whoop a Mans Ass” by Trace Adkins lol also sploosh

You're standing in the middle of a dance floor in Texas trying to follow along next to Jake. He's insisted for months that you need to come home with him and get a real line dance experience after you dragged him to some bar back in San Diego that he called a disgrace. So, here you are laughing loudly and doing your best to keep up. 

You're not very experienced but Jake is patient with you as you learn and he feels himself falling even more in love with you. You've seen many sides of your boyfriend in your time together, but watching Jake in his element at home is a whole new experience. Your eyes rake over his body, noticing the way his worn-in wranglers hug his thighs. He paired them with boots and a shiny belt buckle and you have half a mind to just pull him into the bathroom. 

The song ends and the two of you step back to your table to rest for a few minutes. You watch him pop a toothpick in his mouth and get a wicked idea. Jake watches as you reach out and pluck the cowboy hat off his head, placing it on your own with a knowing smirk. Jake had given you a general rundown of southern etiquette, and first on the list was 'wear the hat, ride the cowboy'. 

He knows exactly what you're up to and he's inclined to take the bait. You're standing in front of him in a pair of boots he bought you, cut-off shorts with a buckle that matches his and sporting his hat. It's like a scene pulled out of a wet dream and he thinks that his 16-year-old self would punch him in the dick for not hauling you over his shoulder right then and there. 

He shakes his head with a bright smile and pulls you into him by your belt loop. He leans down and you expect him to kiss you but instead, he presses his mouth to your ear. "I'm going to the restroom. Grab us some refills, please?" He doesn't wait for your response, turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction. 

You take a second to regain your composure before heading up to the bar. You're busy trying to yell your order over the blaring sound of "Boot Scootin Boogie" when you see a man come up next to you. He hands the bartender his card and tells her to put it on his tab. 

Your eyebrow quirks up and you wonder how this guy will feel when he finds out he just paid for another man's drink. Especially a man whose girlfriend he's trying to flirt with. You turn to him slightly to say thank you before looking back straight ahead. 

The man doesn't take the hint and leans in a little too close for your liking. "I just paid for your drink, little lady. Least you could do is give me a name." You finally look at him fully and give him a once-over with a bored expression. He's dressed the same as every other man in here with a cowboy hat and pearl snap shirt. He's handsome, but he's no Jake.

"Y/N." You say in a monotone voice. He tips his hat forward with a grin before testing out your name on his tongue. "Y/N. Pretty name for a pretty girl. I'm Hunter. Need a dance partner?" How this man can't read your body language is beyond you. 

"No, I'm here with my boyfriend." You explain while trying to spot Jake in the crowd. Your gaze finally meets his and you smile, shifting your eyes towards the man slightly to signal that you need him. The man sees this and takes thinks your change in demeanor is directed at him. Big mistake. 

He leans on the bar and cages you in, one of his hands coming down to rest on your hip. Your eyes widen slightly as your view is blocked by his body and you feel anxiety shoot through your chest. It's not that you can't defend yourself, you've gotten into your fair share of altercations. But the man took you by surprise and now has the advantage over you. 

He licks his lips and drags his eyes down your body. You feel small and dirty under his lustful gaze. It's no secret that this man is undressing you in his mind and thinking of you in ways only meant for Jake. "I don't see him anywhere, sugar." You wrinkle your nose at the comment. Aren't guys in the south supposed to be gentlemen? 

You're contemplating kneeing this asshole in the dick when you hear Jake's voice and relief washes over you. "Turn around then, pretty boy." You don't know much about the culture down here, but based on this guy's reaction, you're guessing that's worse than being called a swear word. 

The man looks over his shoulder but doesn't move. Jake has a bright shit eating grin when Hunter makes eye contact. "See me now?" He asks with his arms crossed and shoulders back. Hunter laughs and glances back toward you. "You left her alone. Seems fair game to me." He says with a shrug.

You're still blocked between his arms and Jake's patience is wearing thin. "She's wearing my hat asshole. Besides, whether she's spoken for or not, if a lady tells you no, you listen. Didn't your folks teach you anything?" His tone is sharp and you can tell he's reaching the end of his rope. He can see your hand shaking with anxiety and gets even angrier.

The man's hand tightens on your hip at Jake's words and you wince. Jake's eyes shoot down to where the stranger is touching you and his eyes darken before darting back up. He takes a second to size the man up and weigh his chances of winning this fight. He decides his odds are pretty good and he takes a step toward the man's back. 

"You have to the count of three to get your hand off my girl before I break it." He says a little too calmly. If there's one thing you've learned about Jake, it's that he runs his mouth because he has the hands to back it. 

The man turns around and you take the opportunity to maneuver around him. Jake takes your hand and quickly pushes you back, using his body to shield yours. 

Hunter stands to his full height and he's got a couple inches on Jake. Usually back home, if a man tried something he would back down as soon as he was challenged. Most of them didn't actually want a fight, and they knew better than to fuck with a man who so easily hurls threats as if it's second nature. Not to mention Jake almost always had a height and strength advantage.

Here though, the environment is completely different. It's rural Texas and most of the men know how to fight. Almost all of them grew up working on farms or ranches so Jake's physique from the Navy isn't special.

The man smirks at Jake and for the first time, you worry he might have met his match. It wouldn't normally concern you seeing as Jake would have backup, but here he's alone and you don't know if this asshole has any friends lurking nearby.

The man looks at you once more and what leaves his mouth next leaves you wanting a shower. "How about I kick your ass and then she can wear my hat instead." His stare reminds you of a predator stalking its prey and you shrink into yourself. Jake's body tenses at the implication and before you can process what's happening, you watch his fist connect with the man's cheek. 

You jump back knowing damn well you don't want to be within range of either one of them. Hunter stumbles back a bit and turns his head to look at your boyfriend with a mocking smile. "That all you got?" He taunts and swings at Jake. He socks your boyfriend in the eye and your hands fly up over your mouth. 

There's a crowd forming now and you watch in horror as the two of them start an all-out fistfight. Jake is holding his own pretty well but he's taken a few hits and has blood running down his cheek and a split lip. 

They've knocked over a few barstools and are now on the ground. Hunter is on top of Jake but each of his attempts are blocked. It takes Jake a second to regain control but when he does he lands a devastating blow that causes the man to lose his footing and fall on his back. He lays there groaning and you thank god it seems to be over.

Jake spits down at the man and he turns to face you. For the first time since all this started, you're able to get a good look at both men. Hunter is still on the ground and he has blood flowing freely from his nose and eyebrow. You examine Jake's face next and while he took a beating, the other guy is definitely worse off. 

You see he's still bleeding and there are already bruises forming. He has a busted blood vessel in his eye and the area is already dark and swollen. You shake your head as you think about how the hell he's going to explain all of this when he reports to duty in a few days. 

You see movement over Jake's shoulder and grab his hand as you watch security making its way over. The two of you leave quickly and you stick your hand out for the keys. He gives you a skeptical look and you scoff. "You need to try and stop the bleeding, Jake. You shouldn't be driving."

He sighs softly but nods his head and hands them over. The ride back is quiet aside from the sound of the AC blowing and country music playing softly over the radio. Jake has found some napkins in the glove box and has them pressed to his cheek but it doesn't do much to help. 

Once you're back, the two of you swiftly head up to your room while trying to keep your heads down. You see people staring out of the corner of your eye and speed up with Jake hot on your tail. You manage to make it to the suite and you pull Jake into the bathroom. 

You point at the toilet with a firm expression. "Sit." You demand and Jake obliges, waiting silently for your next move. You grab a first aid kit that you always travel with and almost laugh. 

Jake always makes fun of you for it, saying you're too over-prepared. You've always told him there's no such thing. The whole thing seems funny now, and you don't think you'll ever let him live it down since he just proved you right. 

Once you've gathered everything you need, you walk over to him and he looks up at you with adoration. Your face softens and you sigh quietly. "This is going to sting." You tell him while pouring some alcohol on a rag. 

He wraps his hands around the back of your thighs and pulls you forward so that you're standing between his legs while he stares up at you. "Do what you need to darlin'." His accent is so thick down here and you can't help but smile at the sound. 

You don't respond, choosing instead to get straight to work. You press the cloth to his cheek first and he doesn't even flinch. Your eyebrow quirks at his lack of reaction and your stomach does a flip. Something about a man getting into a fight and then being able to handle the pain while you take care of him apparently does it for you. 

You turn to grab some gauze and Jake speaks up. "I'm sorry. Not for fighting but for ruining your first night out. It was supposed to be fun." You glance over at him before turning back to the box in front of you.

"You didn't ruin it. You protected me and took a beating for me. Besides, I'd say this is pretty fun." You tease with a sly grin and Jake leans forward to kiss your hip in response. 

Once you've cleaned his cheek and stopped the bleeding the best you can, you move on to his lip. The bleeding there has slowed down significantly and all you have to do is wipe over it to disinfect the cut. 

You grab another clean rag and wet it, wiping as much dried blood off his face and neck as you can. It's dripped down onto his shirt and chest and you stare at the sight for a few seconds, darting your tongue out to wet your lips. What does it say about you that you find a bruised and bloody man sexy? You don't ponder on it for long, opting to look back at Jake's face. 

He has a smug grin and twinkle in his eyes after catching you staring at him but doesn't say anything. You shake your head to try and clear it before stepping back. "Get in the shower and clean up. I'm going to get some ice for your eye. It's already a pretty nasty shiner so we need to do as much damage control as possible."

He nods his head dutifully and salutes. "Yes ma'am." He says seriously but he can't fight the smile breaking out on his face. You give him a pointed look and turn on your heel to find the ice bucket. You hear Jake step into the shower just as you walk out the door to get ice and when you get back, the water is still running. 

You grab a fresh set of sleep clothes and step back into the steam-filled room to leave them on the counter for him. You falter when you see him through the glass shower. 

His head is back with his eyes closed as water pours over his face and down the front of his body. He has a few bruises on his stomach and ribs and your heart twinges. You didn't realize he was this banged up. 

Jake must have sensed your presence because he steps out from under the stream and pushes his hair back off his forehead while turning to you. You watch him lick his lips and your legs almost give out.

His eyes rake down your figure and you realize you're still wearing your clothes from the bar, including his hat. He brings his gaze back up to meet yours and cocks his head slightly to the side. "Join me?" He asks and you hesitate. 

You know his body has to be hurting in more ways than one and you don't want to make it worse. You lose your resolve when you see Jake run a bar of soap down his abs. You take his hat off carefully and step forward, throwing your shirt to the ground in the process. Fuck it. You see Jake's smile widen and you swear this man is going to kill you. God bless Texas.

Taglist:

@drakelover78​

@manyfandomsfanvergent​

@ssprayberrythings​

@disturbedbeautywrites​

Click Here to be Added!

#jake hangman seresin #Jake seresin #Jake seresin imagine #jake seresin top gun #protective jake #protective jake seresin #hangman #hangman top gun #hangman imagine #Jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #protective hangman #cowboy jake

[typellblog]

In Fate/stay night, magic is death

Shirou’s first attempt to use it is memorably described as a burning rod being inserted into his spine. In the prologue, Rin notes that the pain of conducting the summoning ritual is unavoidable as long as ‘people use magic in a human body’. Kiritsugu tells Shirou that the essence of a magus ‘is not in life, but in death’.

This wasn’t really sticking for me, though.

The mindset I approached FSN with, encouraged by other fantasy media, was that magic was something like water: a vital substance that exists all around us which can be channelled to accomplish tasks. The results depend on what you use it for: drinking, watering crops, drowning someone. You know, there’s death magic or whatever, but there’s also life magic, and fire magic, and so on for all the Pokemon types.

And then Shirou compares magical energy to poison.

The metaphor is powerful here – what we are dealing with is inimical to life. It’s not evil, but it is dangerous. You can use it for a variety of purposes, but in its base state it will kill you. If you fuck up your spellcasting it will kill you. If you bring a friend along and they don’t know what they’re doing it might kill them. Mages have to deal with this on a daily basis (one of the first hints that these people are not okay and any trace of sanity observed in their behaviour is frankly a miracle).

The way magic is framed from the very start of the story is one of the things that contributes to the dark, tense tone of the visual novel that I don’t think has quite been captured in any of the adaptations.

The closeness of death that you can feel palpably from Shirou’s perspective as he faces off against Berserker gives weight to his decision to throw himself in front of the axe to protect Saber. It helps us understand why Saber and Rin aren’t just shocked, but start to think that there’s genuinely something wrong with him. (There is something wrong with everyone in this story).

But back to magic.

The Bloodfort Andromeda that Shinji has Rider set up around the school is a form of bounded field, seemingly the bread and butter of Nasuverse magi. Its effect is to suck the life force out of anyone within its range to the point of literally dissolving their flesh. This is considered the ‘most aggressive’ form of boundary field.  Not ‘an aggressive’ boundary field. It is a difference of degree but not kind, the logical final extension of the concept.

That is because putting your magic into something, whether it’s an object or an area, is essentially an attempt to assert dominance over that thing. By doing so, you’re poisoning it, overwriting its traits with your own. The default state of trying to do magic to something is to damage it; mages must deliberately compensate for that in order to get other effects. (This is why Shirou needs to understand the structure of an object intimately before reinforcing it, he can’t just shove magical energy in at random.)

Bloodfort Andromeda is also what first establishes Servants as soul eaters. They can drain strength from ordinary people by weakening or killing them. All of them, not just ‘the bad ones’ who actually do it like Rider or Caster. This element of the setting often gets overlooked in later spinoffs, but it contributes a lot, in FSN, to the idea that every aspect of what Shirou has got himself into, from the magecraft to the very method of fighting is inherently perverse and disruptive.

Is it any wonder that the Grail, in the end, turns out to be corrupted?

This is the first of about 30 analytical essays on Fate/Stay Night that I will be reposting here (with significant edits) from Reddit. Stay tuned, I may get these on a proper schedule at some point.

#fate #type moon #fate/stay night #fsn analysis

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hello! I hope you’re having a wonderful day!

Can you write a very suggestive snippet about a surprisingly very horny and flirtatious hero trying to seduce the surprisingly chaste and sober villain?

Both are interested in each other, but the hero knows the villain’s interest first and is trying to make the villain admit by being overly fruity.

“So.”

The villain’s eyebrows jumped up, their eyes scanning the hero in the definitely too tight outfit.

“So?” they asked, clenching their jaw. Getting captured had actually never happened to them before — the villain had been untouchable. Up until now. The hero was clever, they had to admit. Mean, but clever.

The hero had set the villain’s second hideout on fire. Which had forced them out of hiding.

“I caught the mouse, hm?” the hero said. They leaned against the metallic table of the interrogation room. If they were to beat up the villain in here, no one would notice.

“Oh, I’m the mouse now?”

No cameras. No recordings.

“You always were,” the hero said. “You’re the mouse and I’m the big bad cat that finally caught you.”

They grinned, showing off their perfect set of teeth. Saying that the hero was confident was an understatement. Laughable, really.

“And now you’re going to kill me?” the villain guessed.

“I’m going to devour you,” the hero corrected. They pushed themselves off the table and put their hands on it, leaning forward. “Once I’m done with you, you’ll be so exhausted you won’t even remember how to walk.”

“That’s suggestive,” the villain said, swallowing. They could feel the pulse in their cheeks, the blood pushing against their flesh as some kind of assault.

“Is it? I thought it’s clear what I want from you. What we both want.” The hero stood up straight, going around the table until they were in front of the villain. “The way I see it, we both have some problems. Some problems we could fix in one night.”

They put their hand on the villain’s shoulder and pressed until the chair’s back touched the wall. The villain’s feet were dangling in the air and they truly forgot how to breathe for a second. The hero touching them was already troublesome but them pushing the villain back really made their heart jump.

And then, the hero’s lips came closer.

“Maybe I should make you beg and scream for hours on end,” the hero whispered, their lips touching the villain’s ear lazily. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“You’d like that,” the villain said, trying to put some strength in it.

“I’d love it just as much as you would. You’ve always been one to beg. Not at first, no.” The hero traced the villain’s abs with their index finger. “But once your pretty shell breaks, you find a sweet villain who’ll be on their knees for their hero.”

The villain’s jaw dropped.

Partly because the hero had never insinuated that much in under five minutes and partly because they didn’t know what to say.

“Come on,” the hero said, turning their head, their lips brushing the villain’s cheek. They moved their head down and thus, dragged their lips across the villain’s skin until they reached the villain’s neck.

Arriving there, they started kissing the villain gently.

And the villain wanted to melt. The hero was heaven on earth. They were skilful, completely in their element. They knew how to take care of people but they had truly understood what the villain needed.

“Tell me,” they whispered and the villain felt the tiny hairs on their back stand up. “You liked being my mouse. You always left clues for me.”

True. Also, mean. Bringing that up wasn’t fair. The hero wasn’t supposed to figure that out. They were supposed to feel lucky.

However, the villain couldn’t answer. They could clench their fists as the hero sucked a hickey into the skin of their throat. And as they did, a whimper left their mouth accidentally.

“Please…” the villain whispered, not sure what they were asking for. Either for the hero to continue or for them to do even more.

“Ah, perfect. The begging,” the hero said finally, stopping — unfortunately — with the sucking. “Now be a good villain and confess your little sin.”

Looking up at them, their mind full of yearning, the villain did.

#Oop #I crave angst #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #suggestive

[elvisabutler]

you're just too good to be true

summary: after a hard day for both you and your sugar daddy, a little praise on both your ends is needed. rating: m, but a very soft m. pairing: austin butler ( sugar daddy variation ) x f reader word count: 1076. warnings: fingering. sugar daddy and sugar baby dynamic. talk about exhaustion. minor elements of controlling behavior but not quite? faintly implied age difference but can be read differently? i think that might be it? author's note: so welcome to my double dip for day five: praise kink with sugar daddy austin. trust me when i say i did not intend for this to be as soft as it is. but something just possessed me to do this. probably the realization that i'm writing degradation with austin elvis tomorrow. that might have done it. much like sub austin, i really really love the idea of sugar daddy austin mostly because i have made the joke that he was vanessa's sugar baby for quite a long time. so low key if anyone wants to request something about that, by all means, do. i'll enjoy writing the shit out of it and will become the sugar daddy austin go to gal. ( because trust me, i have THOTS on the matter. ) also this is kind of a birthday present for @dreamersparacosm for turning 22 because i saw her post it and went SO SDE OR SDA? she chose sda.

"Baby?" Austin's voice is muffled by the water filling your ears as you slide lower into the tub to rinse the soap off from your hair. It had been a long day for both of you. You had known there was some ceremony or gala or whatever it was that you had to attend but you had also gone to your job to finish up some last minute work. Austin kept telling you that you could quit, that it was his job as your sugar daddy to take care of you but you refused out of stubbornness and wanting to be something other than just Austin Butler's arm candy. One day he might get through to you but today your stubbornness led to a bone tired exhaustion that left you with almost know energy especially after having to charm all the Hollywood types at this gala.

"In here." You say quietly knowing that Austin couldn't be that far away, after all you had told him to come follow you if he wanted to talk. Your eyes flutter open as you hear what you think is the door opening to reveal Austin in his pajama pants and no shirt. As much you enjoyed him in a full suit like tonight- this look was something else. This look reminded you of why you accepted his offer of being your sugar daddy over a dozen other offers you've had since you turned 18 several years ago.

He waits to speak until your head moves up from the water, your hair sticking to your head and the bubbles around you making space for your body. His knees hit the floor with a small thump as he places a kiss on your forehead before kissing your lips gently, pulling away with a slight bite. "How're you feeling?"

You hum quietly, your eyes fluttering shut just tad. "Tired. Should have taken a nap in the car."

Austin chuckles, his hand playing on the surface of the water, grabbing a bit of bubbles and putting them on your chest. "You shouldn't have gone to work is what you should have done." It's an admonishment, you can hear the shift in his tone but you're so exhausted you honestly can't bring yourself to care beyond a shrug.

"I kept my tongue in check, though. You should have heard some of the stuff I did, Aus. They think just because you pay me to hang around you that I'm their person to just spew things to." You try and defend yourself as you start to slink down into the water, trying to have the warmth permeate your aching shoulders and neck. You could ask Austin to rub them but you know sometimes that leads down a dangerous path. In your attempts to move down into the tub you don't notice Austin's hand moving toward your lower half until you feel his fingers tracing your lips.

"Open those pretty eyes and look at me, baby." Austin murmurs, humming as he slides one finger inside of you, inhaling at the same time you do at the sensation.

You do as your told, eyeing him through the bubbles because damn if you are going to move out of a spot you found that was comfortable and allowed you to soak your muscles. "What are you doing?"

"Giving my sweet exhausted sugar some attention." He answers like he's not starting to curl his finger just so in a way that has you jostling the water.

"Aus-" You start before he shakes his head.

"No. My good girl deserves to relax. You've been working so hard for your sugar daddy and at your job. You could have told either one of us to shove it today. Could have given yourself the day or the night off but you didn't. You answered questions like a champ. You charmed the pants off some of my future costars and some directors. If you had seen yourself, baby."

A whimper escapes your lips at the praise, you hadn't fully told Austin just how much of a praise kink you had, concerned he might take advantage of it like some of your exes had but here he was reading you like a book, like he always did and you couldn't help but revel in it.

He adds another finger to your cunt, pushing them in and out in a slow rhythm that he matches with his thumb against your clit. You want to tell him to stop- tell him that you don't need to have him do this but you find that your mouth doesn't seem to work, that you can't find the words to tell him to stop because it feels so right.

"You're always so good to me. So good to everyone. So gorgeous, so enrapturing and inspiring. You light up my life like you light up every room you walk into. Such a smart girl, such a pretty girl, such a perfect girl. Are you going to come like this? Come with just the words I'm saying, baby girl? I'd appreciate it if you did. I'd give you even more of a reward if you did. You deserve it tonight. You deserve everything tonight. You've earned your sugar baby title tonight."

That does it for you, you don't know if it's because you swear you've been turned on since you saw Austin in his suit or when you saw him flex his jaw when one of the people you were talking to were too close for his comfort but you find yourself coming softly, your toes curling as you lock eyes with Austin and watch his eyes darken as he sees your mouth open in an "o" and sees you shudder just slightly. He pulls fingers out of you and above the water, putting them to his mouth and licking them clean before rubbing them on his pants.

He stands up, but not before pulling the stopper for the drain of the tub and grabbing a towel from the hook above the door. His arm moves to grab you and he pulls you up before wrapping the towel around you. A moment passes as he lets himself dry you off gently, making sure to take extra care with parts he knows you hate being wet. When he's satisfied he wraps you in another towel and picks you up before opening the bathroom door and carrying you to the bed.

You eventually sleep that night.

#austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler smut #austin butler fluff #austin butler x you #austin butler #this is. #can this be counted as part of kinktober if it's the fluffiest kink piece i think i will write for this? #whatever i'm a sucker for praise kink. #also i told everyone you were getting a three for one deal today. #ally's kinktober 2022

[weekend-whip]

What’s everyone’s fighting style like exactly? I know Cole fights very sturdily, with some flexibility from dancing to balance it out, and I can imagine Kai doing a lot of kicking to accompany his sword swings, but what does everyone else do? Bonus points for realism.

I make no promises but *cracks neck* here we go!

"Cole leans more towards power, always stepping into his strikes to achieve the greatest amount of impact. Every hit is heavy, every swing is forceful. While some of his movements are on the slower side, sometimes he misses on purpose to unsettle his opponent and demonstrate just who they're messing with. But also, when his strikes do connect, it's pretty much a guarantee his foe's down for the count."

Cole when fighting at close range primarily relies on his fists, naturally. He first focuses on blocking to wear down the opponent, then can hit heavy and hard once an opening presents itself. His strikes are not that fast, however, and can be dodged enough for the blow to be lessened or missed entirely. However, while he might not be the fastest, his dancing background allows him to be not only graceful but nimble—so where people would expect him to be easy o hit (and he is, when he's letting you hit him), he is also a master of finding opportunities to counter attack, usually via his element. Above all else, Cole is an offensive fighter, even while on the defense.

When fighting at range, that's when he starts incorporating his legs + Vibration Tracing more. He likes to stomp and manipulate and/or shake the earth that way when his target is too far to strike directly, or kick out to deliver a strike with earth. Depending on the environment (and attunement with his element at the time) Cole can also manipulate the terrain into his advantage as well, which many opponents fail to account for when fighting him (and thus can and will be knocked around by Earth Pillars).

With his weapons, Cole's Scythe tends to be used to generate space between him and his opponent, whether by manipulating earth or just to make people run from a giant swinging blade. His hammer is used to either unsteady his opponents, or to deliver a finishing blow. If he leads with the hammer, he's trying to put you out of commission as soon as possible. If he leads with the Scythe, however, he's still trying to give you a chance to Not Get Obliterated (such as while training or, y'know, fighting a small child).

"Zane's style is reactionary, waiting for his opponents to fall into an unfavorable position before making his move. He lulls his opponent into a false sense of security before striking fiercely, blindsiding them completely. He makes it a point to study his foe in the few precious seconds he has, trying his best to match their style, all the while sticking to his own strengths."

Zane likes to be a ranged finger. He hates being in close range, because he has less time to anticipate/decipher a foe's movements (hence why he was at a disadvantage in fights like ones against Cryptor/Mr. E, etc.) He tries to avoid the front lines, providing backup by adapting the terrain (Ice Floor), straight up freezing the enemy, or slowing them down with arrows/shuriken so that someone else can go in close for the killing blow (metaphorically). This type of behavior also results in the enemy forgetting about Zane as they're too busy dealing with the others, allowing Zane to pick up slack when needed.

When he does have to fight at close range, he doesn't let the enemy wear themselves down so much as he works to disorient them. This is easily done when they're fighting on ice, as then half of the enemy's focus becomes relying on keeping their balance, and then Zane can easily offset them. But if not on ice, then Zane's the one having to put extra effort into focusing on dodging and deflecting, because with even one slip up in his defenses, his chances of recovery drop fast.

"Jay fights loosely, like he's not even fighting at all, but once he hones in on his opponent's weakness, he strikes with a dangerous amount of precision.  He's always on the move, knowing in his bones that a moving target is harder to hit, but already ready to fight back the moment the chance arrives. He is a fighter of opportunity."

Jay's strength lies in evasion—a moving target is harder to hit, and he can't tank hits like Zane nor Cole, nor can he counterattack as well as Cole. Therefore, when he fights, it's all about moving around until the perfect moment presents himself and he seizes upon it—like a lightning strike. This is also why he makes for a good distraction, leaving Cole open to focus on offense and Zane to provide defending support.

He also prefers ranged combat like Zane, as demonstrated with his weapons. His nunchucks, while useful for if he does find himself with an annoyingly clingy opponent, can also serve to put distance b/w himself and the foe, similar to Cole with his Scythe. His kusarigama, however, he prefers to use to either get himself out of range, especially when unable to teleport, or to manipulate an enemy's position from afar. Being as distant with his opponent as possible is very important for Jay's more spontaneous battle strategies, as getting the drop on his foes is an important aspect of how he fights.

But when he does find himself in close quarters (and too low on energy to teleport), Jay still has evasion and speed in spades. He's very good at winding around an enemy's strikes without being touched, and will attempt to work his way behind them before delivering a strike. Otherwise, if he just tries to do a full frontal assault (something Cole can get away with), he's open to being deflected or counterattacked, and like Zane would struggle to recover. As soon as someone gets their hands on him he's a sitting duck (unless, of course, he just shocks them...but he can't always control the amount of voltage he uses either. Especially if he's fighting while agitated.)

"Kai is…something else. He dishes out hits like Cole, but with Jay’s speed. He’s receptive in his defense like Zane, but steadfast in his movements like Cole. And he’s hard to hit like Jay, but sometimes lets himself be hit like Zane. And what he lacks in ninja experience he more than makes up for in his sword skills."

Kai is, perhaps, the most basic yet most integral component. He primarily relies on his own sword skills and what hand-to-hand he's managed to learn prior to being a ninja, and yet his fighting style has similar traits to the previous three: with Cole's focus on offense, Zane's skill at defending, and Jay's penchant for evasion...but he doesn't specialize in any of them, just uses them in tandem to achieve his own agile style, and to give a tea a boost in the area they need it most on the field.

This is why when one of the others is down for the count, Kai's the one stepping in to fill the gap. Need a quick distraction but Jay wore himself out? Kai. Need someone right on the frontlines but Cole is injured? Kai. Need someone to watch your back but Zane's busted? Kai. His simplicity is what makes him malleable to any situation, and he doesn't have to be perfect either; just enough to keep the momentum of battle going.

As for more concrete battle tendencies, unlike the others he prefers to fight with a weapon, even if he is at a disadvantage when fighting at range. His swords are always his go-to, even after getting his fire powers, just because it's so ingrained into him after all this time. His fire powers do help to make up any distance he finds himself in, especially with his ability to Pyroport, but as fire can get out of control quickly there's not many opportunities to go straight up wild with it. Which, again, leads him to relying on his swords. And yeah, he likes to do fancy flips and twirls and sneak a kick or two in when he can.

"Nya is flexible enough to meld all her friends' strengths together as one. Steady as rock, unrelenting as ice, quick as lightning, and enduring as a flame…she can adapt as needed; she can change between them whenever she wants to. Her form is not one that goes stagnant easily."

Nya's agility is similar to Kai's except...inverted? And therefore becomes more of adaptability than anything, as water can be just a solid as earth and ice, fluid as fire, and be as devastating as lightning. She doesn't directly mimic how the others fight; just manifests their traits into something more suitable for her to use (which comes from her spending months watching them train and fight, and what she learns as first is directly taken from them).

Has no problem switching from ranged to close-ranged, as her weapons more than accommodate that. Her fans she uses for close-range, and similar to Kai's katanas, she treats as an extension of herself. Gets in a lot of arm and leg movement when using these. Her spear in the ranged weapon; she can throw it, but she also likes to use it as a defensive cover when closing distance with her and her opponent. Lots of spins and ducking while using this technique. However, she...does prefer to use a mech while fighting, especially while she still doesn't have her powers.

Lloyd is the jack-of-all-trades but master of none, and then ramped to the eleven. He has very basic fundamentals of hand-to-hand plus a few weapons courtesy of his mother, but otherwise he's a maniac that fights chaotically with little rhyme or reason (yet), doing whatever to end the fight as quick (or explosive) as possible. Obviously relies a lot on his Master Building before his fully comes into his own as a ninja, and as a Spinjitzu Master, during which his style will mature...somewhat. (It's all a metaphor for finding identity y'know). Does many backflips. Also doesn't even realize he's doing it.

#jesse is a blend of jay's evasive distraction manuvers and zane's defensive support #and olivia has a gun #ninjago #the lego ninjago movie #tlnm #legacyverse #the ninja legacy whip #kai smith #zane julien #jay walker #cole brookstone #nya smith #lloyd garmadon #k1ng boo #asks from nice people

[groovyfandomhuman]

Hello, so I have this. This is the past of the character who is currently going through the traumatic event.

Suddenly, a boy was shoved into a room. It wasn't empty. There was a bunch of people there. Not people, though they all had some sort of difference about them. Some had animal features, and some had features for mystical creatures. A girl walked over and held out her hand and said, "Are you okay? i'm Lana I'm okay, I'm EliNice to meet you, Eli Lana saidWhere are we, Eli stuttered, well, he said.Blackbird facility It's a place where they experiment on orphans. That's how I have Wings ears and a tail. She repliedThroughout the years, Eli and Lona became best friends. They always hang out. They always stay together through the years Eli Was experimented on like everyone elyes until one day through the experiments he had got the tail And ears of a fox and all all the pros and cons about being a fox hearing wasn't amazing. He could jump very high.He was 13. He had been 3 years at the facility.Hey, Eli, I have a plan. We can get out of here. Lana said quietly to Eli so no one would hear.Really, Eli replied.Outside of the facility, there's a cherry. The forest would help us for sure. If we give her an offering, what about your scarf? The one that you just found 1 day and you've always had. I think it would work, Lana said quietly.Yeah, let's do it, but how are we gonna get out of the facility? Eli questioned her.Easy, we're gonna break out. You can use fire and I can use ice.Lana saidLet's do it Eli decided in that moment. Not knowing it was going to be the best decision of his life for now.In the midst of Blackbird Facility, Lana and Eli skillfully navigated their way past guards. Lana's ice created subtle barriers, and Eli's controlled flames dissuaded any interference. With wings and tails moving gracefully, they quietly progressed through the facility, leaving behind only discreet traces of frozen and scorched paths. The encounter remained low-key, a harmonious blend of elements for an unhurried and uneventful escape.Ok, we need to go put your scarf on the tree branch. Okay, Lana said well out of breath after escaping.Yeah, let's do this. Eli threw his scarf over a branch. And suddenly a lady appeared. Hello, dears, "she said in a calm voice. I'm here to help you. You'll appear in a forest of cherry trees. It'll be called cherry tree orichard. There are some people there. They will help you. They will adopt you and protect each other.  You are siblings now. She finished her sentence softly as Eli and Lana disappeared and appeared in an orchard full of cherry trees.Hello, "a lady said in a cheery voice. With a man standing behind her, smiling down at them.The man said it's nice to meet you. I'm guessing the goddess of the forest sent you Too

oh that's good

my favorite part is "The encounter remained low-key, a harmonious blend of elements for an unhurried and uneventful escape."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your dad sits in the worn-out recliner, silent as the radio buzzes on an AM station. Your mother places a glass of water next to him but he doesn't acknowledge her. You've never seen him like this. Your dad's always been lively, often talking back to the radio. But now, he's like a shell, just staring.

"The rehab nurse will come tomorrow," your mom nears, "he just needs some rest for now."

You nod and back out of the room, a grim coldness in the air despite the warmth of spring flowing in from open windows. You enter the kitchen as your mother trails after you. Without a word, she flips on the burner beneath the blackened silver kettle. You lean on the square island and trace a finger around a ring in the wood.

"Do they know how it happened?" You ask.

"A clot. They say... things like that are hard to catch," she sniffs, "but it doesn't matter now. All that matters is he's home and alive and... he's going to get better."

"I'm sorry, ma," you frown.

You cup your chin and glance over at the door. When you looked in your father's eyes, it was as if he didn't know you. He just smiled weakly then went back to staring. What happened to man who used to jump down from his tractor to the dismay of his wife?

"We'll have to figure out what to do about the planting," your mother hums and chews her thumb. She pulls her hand away and stretches out her fingers, "Timothy's done a lot but... we'll never catch up at this pace."

"I can help," you offer, "ma, we'll make it work."

"No, I need you in here," she counters, "I'll be taking care of your dad. The hospital gave me all these pamphlets; exercises and all that..." she blows out a heavy breath and flattens her palm to her forehead, "how am I going to do all this?"

"Ma, we'll all help," you offer, "it's okay. We'll be okay. Dad will be okay."

You come around the counter and offer a hug. She latches onto you and rocks you in place. As she holds you, a rumble underlines the chatter on the radio humming from the front room.

You part and look over at the open archway to the hallway. You glance at your mother and give a nod. Visitors already.

You go down to the entry way, wondering where Timothy went. He was just out on the porch fiddling with some car part or another. You open the door and lean back on a heel as Walter greets you with a nod.

"Hey, hope I'm not... imposing."

"Um, dad just got home. He's..." you peek over at the front room, "resting."

"Of course, I figured, I just wanted to drop this off," he holds up the basket in his right hand, "had some extra stuff in my pantry."

"Oh, Mr. Marshall," you accept the basket, "thank you. You didn't have to--"

"Walt," he corrects.

"Walter," your mother's voice carries through the hall as she pads up softly, "oh, Walter, how kind."

She looks at the basket as you grasp the handle and Walter lets it go, the weight nearly bowling you over. You do your best to keep it above ground level.

"Heavy," he warns too late.

"Please, come in," your mother beckons.

"I wouldn't want to disturb him," Walter puts his head down, almost meekly. "Just wanted to bring some stuff."

"No, no, please, I just put the kettle on."

"Uh, alright," he accepts reticently. "Thanks, Maddie."

"Not at all," she assures and turns to sweep back down the hall.

He steps in and bends to untie his stained tan boots. He leaves them on the mat and faces you. You give an awkward smile and take stunted steps with the weighty basket.

"Here," he swipes it back as he catches up to you, "don't hurt yourself."

You let him have it. Your arm hurts. He follows you into the kitchen and places the basket on the island as you round to the other side.

"Black tea?" Your mother offers.

"Sure," he stands sternly, arms straight, stance wide.

She takes down three cups as you languish in radio's buzz. You never said much more than a few words to Walter. Walt. He never says too much either, he was always just a sounding board for your father's yammering.

"God!" The back door swings open and hits the wall, causing you and your mother to yelp as Walter merely looks over dully. Your brother clamours in and skids to a halt.

"Timmy, the floor," your mother reproaches.

"Dang it, sorry ma," he huffs, "I just... the tractor's smoking."

"What?" You and your mother stammer in unison.

"Yeah, black shit all out the exhaust."

"I'll have a look," Walter offers.

"Oh, hey, Walter," Timothy grins dumbly.

"You're so kind, Walter, but we can get Vol down here--"Don't bother with the bill," Walter shrugs off, "I'll get my boots."

Your mother sighs and you shake your head at Timothy. She might just be right. There's no way the three of you can get the spring planting done, especially if he's going to treat the tractor like one of his dinky cars he played with as a kid.

#series #au #backwoods au #walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #the farmer's daughter #night hunter #drabble

[thermitetermite]

Prompt #11 - Dream Manipulation

Tldr: Villain breaks into a top secret lab looking for something or someone. They reminisce about what brought them here and their life so far. Chaos obsessed Villain x Conspiracy theorist Hero

CW: Non-con drugging, kidnapping, restraints, mind control, sedation, slight murder talk (no actual murder), obsessive behavior (like how a detective obsesses over a case), muscle atrophy, hospitals (sorry for the long list but I want to cover all of the bases)

The laboratory burned as Villain plunged deeper into it's expanses. Villain was impressed at how a facility this big stayed off their radar until now.

The darkness of hallways and stairwells swirled when illuminated by Villain's flashlight. A devilish smirk plastered itself on Villain's face as the sounds of alarms blared in the background.

This was their element. The chaos, the madness, and the overwhelming sense that everything is falling apart around them.

They couldn't get enough of it.

It was soothing in a way. Knowing that they were the cause of all this chaos. That they were in control here. It wasn't offen they felt this way in the real world.

They typically left all this chaos in the dreams they controlled. Sick and sadistic machinations far beyond their wildest fantasies. Being paid by the memories they took, the dreams they brought to life, and the people they left trapped in their own minds.

Villain would describe themselves as the gentlest assassin for hire. A silencer with no gun.

Why worry your head about murder plans when you could simply hire Villain. No body to hide, just one permanently asleep. No weapon to trace and no mark on the target. Perhaps best of all is the fact that there is no convoluted escape plans or need to learn your target's schedule. Sleep comes for all. Where sleep comes a long dream will follow.

Night was their domain and perhaps that's why they were so captivated by this lab. It was equally dark and vast as the night they call home. In fact, one could argue that this lab could be home! At least, that's what Villain told themselves to ease their nerves.

They had never done something like this before. They worked alone, kept a low profile, and stayed out of the spotlight. No one knew or could know about them. Any police agency or heroing department could easily ambush them if their existence became widespread knowledge. Worse still, literally anyone could avoid them and prevent them from doing their work if they discovered their weakness.

But at the same time they couldn't help but think of the mayhem they would cause the first few weeks people learned they existed. Panic would run amok in the hearts of every being who heard their name. But they digress.

They had work to do.

The guards were still sleeping at their posts, put to bed long ago by Villain. One pesky officer escaped earlier and sounded the alarm but it was no matter Villain couldn't handle. They had knockout gas and a baseball bat so any reinforcement would be put to sleep one way or another. However, to try and keep under the radar they set a fire to make it seem like an accident. That and they figured everyone would be worried about the obvious fire versus the possibility of someone breaking in.

With the stolen key cards from the guards, they finally made it deep enough in the lab to reach what they were looking for.

Ok, so they might have fibbed a little when they said no one knew of their existence. Of course their parents knew (they think Villain does accounting), their older sister knew (she's been teasing them for years), and their pet lop rabbit Clair knew (you'd be surprised to know they taught Clair to play dead). Only one other person knew they existed and was the only one to know the full extent of their abilities.

Hero.

Some conspiracy theorist small town Hero had somehow put all the pieces together and figured out Villain existed. Villain thought that maybe being unnoticed was another of their powers until Hero swooped in. Or rather, clicked in.

Villain advertised their services on the dark web and whenever they were hired they'd just fly out to the location under the guise of a business trip. When Villain flew to Hero's house expecting payment half upfront they instead got shown all of those corkboards with the pins in them. All of them tying all of Villain's crimes back to them.

Weirdly enough Hero didn't turn them in despite the evidence, claiming they enjoyed being right and that the other agents would laugh off their crackpot theories.

Even stranger, Villain found themselves becoming endeared to Hero (once it was obvious that Hero wasn't planning on turning them in. They might have punched Hero in the face when they confronted them though). It wasn't everyday that you found someone who dedicated their time to learning all about you. Or someone who noticed you at all really.

Maybe it was the fact that Hero and Villain were similar. Hero was also rejected by the world and was an equally weird obsessive nerd. Some people go crazy over chaos while others geek out about conspiracies. That's life. Or maybe it's the fact that Hero lives in such a state of chaos constantly.

Pushpins thrown everywhere, lengths of yarn draped over corkboards, the sound of a printer chugging away at full speed somewhere behind the reems of paper and boxes full of printer ink. The only thing Villain could smell in Hero's studio apartment was rich coffee.

Villain was sure if anyone else walked into this apartment they'd immediately be overstimulated and shut down as a defense mechanism. Villain however found themselves instantly at peace.

When offered they crashed at Hero's place and on that first night they had arguably the best sleep of their life. An actual dreamless sleep. A full night of actual sleep. It was glorious. They were sure Hero appreciated their company too considering how lonely they seemed (they tried showing Villain how they played Monopoly by themselves. It was the saddest thing Villain had ever seen).

Eventually it became a habit. Whenever Villain felt a little dissociated they'd book a flight and visit Hero. They wanted to extend the offer back to Hero but they were in the process of moving out of their parents basement (they were saving up for a house cut 'em some slack) and figured Hero wasn't ready to "meet the parents".

In fact, they were closing on a house offer this week and couldn't wait to offer a room to Hero rent free. Then they could both get what they wanted out of life. Organized chaos for Villain and endless sleuthing time for Hero.

A smaller and more mushy goal for Villain was to make it up to Hero. To thank them for being their friend. For all those peaceful dreamless nights and all those coffee filled mornings.

So when Hero reached out to Villain via dream saying they had been sedated and kidnapped by their own agency Villain saw their opportunity.

Villain opened the door to a room that looked like it belonged in a hospital. Monitors hooked up to their Hero softly beat to the thuds of their heart. The mask over Hero's face kept them sleeping while the restraints on the bed kept them from fighting it. The familiar smell of Hero's roasted coffee was nearly gone like it was coffee La Croix.

The room was so quiet. So blindingly white and sterile. Villain hated it. They knew Hero would hate it too. They wiped the tears from their eyes before walking to the bed. Villain unplugged all the machines, lifted the mask off Hero's face, and picked Hero up. Were they always this light? Villain didn't want to think about how much Hero had likely atrophied.

They couldn't help but shed a few more tears while cradling Hero close to their chest. Hero moved, leaning into Villain shoulder. Villain gently rested their head on Hero's, entering their dream to make it one of the most pleasant Hero would ever have.

"Let's go home." Villain whispered barely audible, carrying Hero out of the room while Hero dreamed of coming home to Villain.

#hero #hero x villain #heroxvillain #supervillain #villain #villian x hero #writing #writing prompt #super villians #villain in love #obsessed hero #nerd villain #nerd hero #dream manipulation #heroes and villains #villains #cw atrophy #cw drugging #cw restraints #cw kidnapping #cw sedation #cw mind control #hurt/comfort #just two obsessed homies #can be seen as platonic or romantic

[incarnateirony]

Min, after all of Dean's journey is said and done and he has found the light, and we trace all of it to the moment of Dean sitting with Bobby drinking beer and when Dean asks "Jack did all this" and Bobby cheekily says "Cas helped" and when Dean does that smile...then that smile would mean something more than it did back in 2020 right?

That's among the things that get New Context, yes. That's what Giving New Context means, guys.

And it's not gonna be just that moment. It's going to be Thee Moments. I call them the Robobo moments: Robbie's first edited-out I Love You from Dean used IN the damn market testing. Who We Are changing Jensen's view of Dean. The Future. The Rupture. The Trap. The Truth. And all accented by narrative elements of Yockey: Optimism. Nihilism. Ouroboros. To name a few. Meredith too, as her and Berens were "Work Boyfriends" by their own name. Big Empty, and others. Cas came to in a garden.

(To even unpack that, it's because Dean was Meredith's POV character and Cas was Bobo's, and the authors were all very much that aware of the text and in support of us while people Nuh Uhed. Meredith gave the Dean mask back to Robbie. [somethingsomethingPersona]. The Rose to Bobo's jack, as Bobo put it. Clinging together on the sinking ship.)

I don't know where fandom got it through their heads that I just woke up one day and decided to juggle 300 episodes of footage in a math formula to processes in like 3 months (the first wave), and a month to update 2 later (second wave), or another month to add in New Winchesters content (this wave.) Oh yeah. a solid half year of editing work like a full time job, to brain frying concepts, and massive footage management, unpaid, just. For fun. Because I wanted to. Is that what they just assumed? They never bothered to ask WHY? (And now, I have a whole army waiting. - Michael. Cough.)

While the original misinformation cores desperately try to save face on years of their bullshit, and pretend WB paid for DeanCas market testing For Funsies But Nobody Intended Anything Back Then, like. These authors were making their mark. They were laying down their good faith groundwork. They were telling their story how they could, even if it was between the cracks. Even if half of it was learning and accepting that Berens is the best kind of madlad, and to stop fighting it, and start listening.

All that stuff they wrote at the end years? Robbie respects that shit. Robbie's good friends with Bobo, and Bobo even carried on Robbie's plot elements like Cain/Collette. Like, jesus. They're mostly passing their own work back with the help of some codexes and specs.

And what Robbie gets to do? He gets to write right through it. He gets to give new context. He gets to put together those pieces the way HE wants, the way his friends always wanted. He gets to highlight and focus on how they WANTED things to be seen and heard, rather than when ~Chuck muffled it under his own tunnelvision (in show and in business), rather than when the point whistled over fandom's heads, or wasn't exactly what they wanted. He gets to use Dean's own gaze of self discovery to give context to what's been The Truth the whole damn time, douchebag.

He's getting rid of Despair. It was never meant to be Despair. It was meant to be The Truth. They never quit fighting. So yeah. Like sure. That smile. That moment. Good example. But I need you to realize it's doing that to, in full: The last several episodes; the last season in full; the last era; and the show in full, in roughly that order of magnitude.

This is revenge.

#who i am

[randomwriting-misc]

Endangered | Chapter Eight

Paul Lahote x OFC

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Summary: Vampires and wolves are not the only supernatural creatures to walk the earth, and they are certainly not the only ones in Forks, Washington when Charlotte Annabeth Swan, "Anna", moves in with her uncle after the unfortunate demise of her parents.

Some may misidentify her as a witch, but that’s fine, she would rather them think that anyway. But the Volturi know the truth, and they are closing in on her.

October

Something switched in me the night Bella was found in the forest. She was drowning. Unwilling to reach out for a life vest, it seemed like she was hell-bent on dragging us down with her, so I became a buffer. Keeping Charlie from jumping in to save her despite himself.  

I started combing through each page of my mother’s notes and family books at night, with Bella’s screaming, it’s not like I’m sleeping much anyway. They detailed everything she knew about our bloodline, our magic, and how it worked, along with spells, rituals, and practices to strengthen my gifts.  

A sinking feeling in my gut tells me that she had a reason for committing this all the paper, that she knew she would be gone one day. My fingers often trace over her signature written on the inside of the covers of her books, trying to feel what she felt in those moments. Aurelia Swan.

I understand it more now, how my magic works. Before I just had a loose understanding, that the Fae have a connection with nature. My mother was more worried about me learning to hide or deflect enough to get away from danger than anything else.

Surprisingly, it’s a little more scientific than that, the Fae seem to be deeply connected to the Earth on an energetic level, and the whole “energy can never be created or destroyed” thing seems to adhere to them. They can manipulate that energy, usually creating a telekinetic or photokinetic effect.  

Now that the Cullens were gone, I needed to be able to assure the safety of my family and myself. The Pack had enough to deal with, hikers were continuously going missing or coming up dead, with just the three of them shifting, they were spread thin.  

So, I practiced. I learned the spells; I did the meditations and rituals. So far, it was working. My elemental manipulation was getting stronger. Every day I pushed it a little farther. The electricity that once could spark from just my fingertips now spread through my hands, even concentrating it into a ball in between my hands,

Water was the easiest element for me to work with, and with snow starting to fall, I learned that that affinity transferred to any form of water. I could move water in any way I desired. I had fun making shapes and figures, and ice turned out to be quite the weapon. The trees on the edge of the forest outside my house were scarred from my target practice.

Earth and wind were both easily adaptable. By week two, I could move large rocks with some focus, and wind, despite a challenge to tame, seemed to start working with me. So much so that I accidentally got swept off my feet a few times by it.  

Fire was the element I was most scared of. It felt temperamental and volatile. It took all of my energy just to create a flame at my fingertips.  

Apart from the elements, my next focus was to enhance my shields, it was like building up walls around me. I wanted to be able to shield the whole house, making it impossible for other supernatural creatures to get in. In one of the books, I learned about special warding and put those up immediately. Now I would be alerted through my connections if anyone came close. So far, it was just the wolves stopping by during patrols.  

I barely slept anymore, the nights were dedicated to reading and trying to keep up with school and my afternoons were spent training as much as I could unless I was with Paul or the pack. They were increasingly concerned about my antics, but I did my best to hide the toll it took on me.  

Sometimes though, when Bella’s screams shake through the house yet again, it’s just too overwhelming.  

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

Knock, knock, knock.

I stand on the porch of Emily’s house, rain beating down. I have my hood pulled up and tighten it against my body, the cold seeping into my bones.

It’s late, almost eleven o’clock, but I know she’s awake. It’s Friday, all three of them are out now, tracking some vampires on the outskirts of Forks. Emily doesn’t sleep much until Sam gets home. They have been trying to cover the most active times, but it’s almost impossible to have someone out at all times.

Opening, the door, Emily looks at me with sad eyes.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Even my voice is tired, and I know once Emily sees me in the light, without the makeup I’ve been using to disguise my deprivation, I won’t hear the end of it tomorrow, but right now, I don’t have it in me to care.

“Of course, sweet girl. Come in. I was just making some tea.”

I sit at the table, head in my hands as Emily sets a mug in front of me. It’s a touch too hot, so I blow on it, my breath creating a thin layer of ice on the top that melts into the tea.

“Thank you,” I murmur, taking a sip.

“Is it still happening?” She asks. It had been hard to hide from them the reason for my sleepless nights, and I had folded and told them a few days ago, as Bella’s night terrors seemed to get worse as the month dragged on.

“Every night,” I sigh.

“And she still won’t talk to anyone?” Emily’s tone is slightly pointed, her opinion is clear on the matter. She thinks Bella needs professional help, and that Charlie should step up and make her go.

“She barely says a word,” I admit.

“Anna... you look like hell.” It’s not an insult, it’s true. The bags under my eyes are getting deeper, and my face was fallen.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Paul’s worried, he’s told me how much you’ve been overexerting yourself... it’s too much.”

“I can handle it.” I have been so far. I need to be able to handle it.

“Can you?”

I sigh, taking another sip of the tea in front of me.  

“What else can I do, Em?” My voice betrays how desperate I feel, how hopeless it seems. It’s been almost a month since the Cullens left, but it feels so much longer.

She sighs and nods, seeing there is no energy left in me to fight.  

“I’ll make up the guest bed for you,” she stands and squeezes my shoulder.

“No, there’s no need, I can sleep on the couch.”

She waves me off, disappearing into the room. I move over to the couch while I wait for her to return, my eyelids heavy. By the time Emily comes back, I am already asleep, curled up in the corner of the couch with my head resting against the arm.  

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

I stir when a pair of warm arms pick me up, cradling me under my knees and my waist. I know it Paul by the feeling in my chest before he even speaks.

“She crashed almost immediately. I didn’t even have time to put the comforter on the bed before she was out,” Emily whispers.  

“It’s fine Emily, thank you for calling me.”  

“I’m really worried about her Paul.”

“Yeah, I am too. I don’t know what to do.”

I feel him lay me down on a bed, gently pulling off my shoes, and covering me with a blanket. As he turns to leave, I grab his hand.

“Stay,” I say groggily, opening my eyes slightly.  

Paul looks at Emily, asking permission. She nods and turns the light off as she leaves.

The bed dips beside me as Paul lays down. I move closer to him, laying my head on his bare chest and an arm slung around his waist.  

“You’re warm,” I whisper.  

“You’re cold,” he counters.  

“It was raining.”

“I know love,” he says quietly, kissing my head.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Get some rest, Anna,” he says, shushing me when I protest. I sigh and cuddle closer to him, exhaustion taking over once more.

I am lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heartbeat.

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

I’m woken up by sunlight in from the window hitting my face, groaning I roll over to turn away from it, but am stopped by running into Paul’s chest. He was already awake, playing with my hair.

“Not a morning person I see,” he says.

“Shh,” I say covering my eyes and ears, “It’s too early for noise.”

He laughs and kisses my head, pulling the blanket off me.

“Come on Princess, Emily is making breakfast,” Paul says getting up. It occurs to me that last night was the first time we spent the night together, and I’m grateful he seems to consider it normal enough not to mention.

“I refuse to move until coffee is made,” I say, laying on my back and putting a pillow on top of my face.

“Noted, should I go put in your order?”

I throw the pillow at him, but he catches it before it can hit him. Stupid supernatural reflexes.  

“This is classified as torture you know,” I groan, sliding half of my body off the bed to the floor, pouting.

He holds out his hand and helps me up, and I am finally awake enough to look him over. A blush spreads over my face as I notice his bare chest and sweat shorts. He must have come here directly after leaving watch.

“Thank you for staying.” I try smoothing out my hair, which was surely a mess after the rain.  

“I’m just happy you were able to sleep through the night,” he says, worried. While he was less than sympathetic towards the Cullens, he felt bad for Bella in a way, but that patience was wearing thin the longer it went on, considering the effect it was having on me.  

Paul and I had fallen into a comfortable routine over the last month. When he was running around the forest, I was either studying or practicing and the rest of the time we were together, sometimes just us, sometimes with the rest of the pack.

He pulls me close and kisses me on the nose and cheeks, making me laugh.

“All right, all right, I’m awake,” I giggle, pushing him away, he puts a hand over his heart and frowns. I take his hand in mine and he guides me to the kitchen.

Downstairs, Sam is sitting at the table. I sit across from him, and he slides over a cup of coffee to me.

“Sam, have I ever told you that you’re my favorite?” I sigh as a drink half of the cup. Paul and Sam speak at the same time.

“Hey!” Paul gasps.

“No, but I’ll remember how easy you are to bribe for the future,” Sam smirks at me. Emily sets down a plate of eggs and some toast in front of us. With a chorus of thanks from us, she sits down next to Sam.

“Is Jared coming over?” I ask.

“No, he’s busy,” Sam chuckles, but I raise an eyebrow at him in question.

“Are you up for a Council Meeting tonight, Anna? Seems like we have a new person to introduce the stories to,” Sam provides.

I gasp and look around the table, Paul has a self-satisfying smirk on his face, and Emily is smiling fondly.

“No way,” I reply.

“Way,” Paul says, lightly hitting me with his shoulder.

“Jared imprinted!? On who?! Tell me everything.”

Her name was Kim, and she had a massive crush on Jared in high school. She was a senior still, and Jared had run into her, quite literally, on the beach last weekend. He was enamored, Sam says he’s even worse than he and Paul ever were.

“Oh my god, I am never going to let him live this down,’ I announce, leaning back in my chair. They all laugh, and the conversation continues throughout breakfast. I help Emily clean up after, making sure to let her know how much I appreciate her kindness in opening her home to me. She just shakes her head, saying that’s what you do for family.

And as much as I love my cousin, and how much I appreciate all Charlie has done for me, right now, that house was too broken to be a home. Emily was right, they were my family.

Read Chapter Nine Here

Taglist: @abaker74

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x oc #paul lahote x ofc #paul lahote fanfic #twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight new moon #wolf pack #sam uley's pack #sam uley #emily young #original female character #jared cameron #bella swan #fae magic #oc has powers #new moon #fae #randomwriting-misc #rwm #randomwriting_misc #clh