#beards and corsets for everyone!!

[lynxindisguise]

remus with his patchy stubble and skinny hairy limbs wearing a pale green lacy corset and his grindylow boxers and sirius with his thick black beard wearing a black leather corset that shows off his chest hair and maybe a thong or the tightest briefs you've ever seen depending on the day do you see the vision

#lace him up december #beard that boy #beards and corsets for everyone!! #wolfstar genderfuck

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 10

The first of two chapters today. Next week will finish up this story, so yay!!

Steve has a rough day, Jeff comes to the rescue and deserves hazard pay for dealing with the two idiots (Steve and Eddie). And Nancy and Jonathan cameo.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9

TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve put on his chain shirt and tunic admiring himself in the mirror. Yesterday it was sort of haphazardly thrown on. Today he took careful consideration to make sure everything was in place.

He grabbed his wallet and keys and then picked up the little dice bag. It just hoped it wouldn’t be too big or two small. He stuck the first two items in his right pocket and the bag in his left.

Now all he had to do is get up the courage to give it to him. He picked up Lucas and Max first.

When Lucas came out the house wearing the pirate outfit which had been his backup, Steve had been surprised. Then Lucas explained that he had wanted to match Max.

While Steve could appreciate the sentiment, Saturday was the biggest day. The one where everyone would see it. So to say he was a bit crestfallen when Lucas came out of his house would have been an understatement. If they had wanted to do that, why not yesterday?

But he bit his tongue and let them do what they wanted.

Lucas and Max wolf whistled when Robin came out all decked out in her beautiful blue dress and matching corset. She was still wearing her pirate boots, but mostly because she didn’t want dirt on the hem of her new dress.

She did a cute little spin and then bowed at their applause.

It was only when they were in the car that Steve realized that now they looked like a couple. And on the day he was supposed to be confessing to Eddie.

He knew Eddie was aware of Robin proclivities toward her own sex and that Robin was only wearing to look pretty at the jousting tournament, but that feeling gnawed in his chest that everyone else would think Robin and he was a couple.

Well not the Party.

And it did it really matter what strangers thought?

More than Steve would ever admit out loud.

****

They arrived to see only Gareth and Brian waiting for them.

“They wanted us to rely their apologies,” Brian said grandly. “But they fucked up the schedules again.”

“What schedules?” Dustin finally snapped. “No one has told us anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.

Gareth tapped the side of his nose. “That’s because it’s a surprise. But let’s just say that the people running the Ren Fair are trying to have two events at the same time and in the same place.”

“That’s lame,” Mike hissed. “I hate stupid adults.”

Gareth wrapped his arm around him. “No truer words have ever been uttered.”

Steve then got to watch as all the kids paired off and the older teens wander off in directions Steve wasn’t interested in going. Even Robin had abandoned him to take Max and El to see the ax throwers.

He didn’t have anything he had wanted to do until just before lunch so he went to Damsel in This Dress. He couldn’t wait to show off his little pouch for her to see if it was something that would sell.

But when he got there, the place was slammed. Steve could even see a large, burly man with a long thick black beard with a single white stripe on the left side of his chin was scampering around trying to take people’s money while Katie answered questions.

Steve took out the pouch he had made for Eddie and then looked up at the tangle of people in front of him. He would have to come back later. But he knew when she would be the least busy, and Steve wanted to go to the joust, too.

He let out a shuddering breath and turned around. He figured he could kill sometime wandering around the marketplace and browse.

He still had some money leftover and it was the last day. Maybe he should buy something for himself. He spent so much time and effort and money on everyone else he had forgotten to get something for himself.

But now, everything had been picked through. He still had his little dagger he thought sadly. Maybe he would come back after the joust when the crowds had thinned a bit.

The last lunch was a horrid affair with everyone fighting over the food, trying to get someone to try the haggis. Finally Steve just picked it up and threw it away.

Five bucks down the drain because these kids were assholes.

He still hadn’t seen Eddie.

Steve let out a pained sigh and went to go grab the pouch to rub it between his fingers for comfort when he realized it was gone.

“Shit!” he swore.

“What is it?” Will asked, the first zero in on Steve’s obvious distress.

“I had a small black pouch I–” he stopped. He didn’t want to tell them he had made it for Eddie. “I bought earlier,” he finished lamely. “And it’s not in my pocket.”

All the kids stood up and started looking around.

“Where did you last have it?” Robin asked, rubbing Steve’s arm soothingly.

“The dresses place,” he muttered. He couldn’t remember the name just then.

“I didn’t see that they were selling that sort of thing there,” Lucas said. “Why did you have it out?”

“I was going to show the owner, Katie,” Steve groused. “She liked my tunic yesterday and wanted me to give her stuff for her to sell for me and I was going to show the pouch to see if that was something she might want from me.”

He picked at the sleeve of his white undershirt. The cuff had the Harrington Pattern and his lip began to wobble at the sight of it. He wanted to take his seam ripper to it and just tear it all it out. He was too stupid to hold onto such a simple thing as pouch, he didn’t deserve to sell his pieces.

“We don’t have time to go look for it now,” Max said gently. “We’ll all head over there after the joust.”

Steve nodded and allowed Robin to lead him to the arena where the jousting would be held.

He was trudging up the stairs to bench seating when he heard a voice call out behind him.

“Steve!”

He turned around and saw Jeff waving something in the air. Hope lit a small fire in his chest. It couldn’t be.

He went thundering down the steps.

“Katie said you left this at her shop,” Jeff said a little breathless.

Steve gently took the pouch from him. “Thank you so much. I thought I had dropped it somewhere.”

Jeff grinned. “It’s for Eddie, isn’t it?”

He ducked his head and nodded.

“How do I thank you?” he breathed, his eyes welling up with tears.

“Just be sure to root for the black knight,” Jeff said with a wink.

“I will I promise.”

He turned around and searched the stands to see where they had all gone and to his surprise Jonathan and Nancy were waving at him sandwiched between a grinning Will and a pleased Mike.

Steve’s day was starting to look up. He sat down in the empty spot next to Robin at the end of the bench.

He showed her the pouch.

“Yay!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so glad you found it.”

Steve leaned forward and told them. “Jeff said to root for the black knight.”

Dustin leaned over too. “Aren’t black knights the bad guys?”

“Nope!” Steve said with a grin. “The black just means that he isn’t loyal to a specific lord. He’s a traveling mercenary looking for work in the only profession he knows. War.”

Everyone nodded.

Steve started explaining the history of the sport and what the different points were and how to win. Even what they won.

They were all hanging off his every word.

Steve felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked up. Callahan waved at him shyly.

“This is Sheila, my girlfriend,” he said. “She had a question about the joust.”

Next to the police officer was a pretty brunette in her early thirties. She wore bright red lipstick and was blushing.

She swatted at Callahan’s arm. “He doesn’t want to hear my dumb question.”

Steve grinned up her. “I’m happy to talk anyone’s ear off. Wha’cha got?”

She asked about if the lances were sharp and Steve explained that they weren’t. They even had wide tips to make the shock of the hit go over a wider area so the lancers didn’t get hurt.

****

In the cover of the stable where Eddie was helping Jeff, Jeff turned to him.

“That boy has got it bad for you,” he said pushing Eddie’s shoulder playfully.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” He straightened up and popped his back. “You remember Louis?”

Jeff winced. He did in fact remember Louis. “Me and Bri still maintain he had a crush on you, he just wasn’t out yet and freaked on you.”

“Well,” Eddie huffed. “Steve ain’t out either, so I’m not touching that...” he made motions with his hands, “all that mess with a ten and a half foot pole, man.”

Jeff rolled eyes. “Look, I’m not saying I know for sure, but according to Gareth, who is the densest motherfucker on God’s green earth, said Steve was really sad when we weren’t there this morning.”

Eddie picked a pimple on his jaw nervously and Jeff swatted his hand away.

“I don’t want to ruin my friendship with Steve,” Eddie murmured. “If it goes badly I’m going to lose some of the kids in the divorce. Dustin and Red are the two biggest ones. They like me, but they love Steve.”

Jeff had to concede that one. “So make sure it doesn’t go south. Woo the bastard. You know how. And don’t give that bullshit about it being ‘only’ pretend at DND because I’ve seen you turn on the charm to get cheaper product from Reefer Rick or to let Gareth who isn’t even close to being twenty-one to perform at a bar.”

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, all right. You win.”

Jeff threw his arm around him and kissed his cheek. “Yes!”

Eddie pushed him off him. “Go on, your squire awaits!”

Jeff laughed but wandered off to finish getting ready.

Eddie shook his head fondly. But Jeff had a point. He couldn't wallow forever.

He had a Harrington to woo.

****

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

And lo! There is the wild Callahan everyone expected to spot when he came to Steve's door all the way back in chapter 3.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

#stranger things #my writing #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

[imyourbratzdoll]

I would like a Chris Evans x reader.

Them being best friends, always very flirtatious with each other on red carpets and interviews but nothing more.

After the SMA announcement they and friends go celebrate at a club. They're dancing/ him grinding on her, enjoying being so close to her,head nestled on her neck, kissing her neck..

Club goers taking pics and videos, socials and media going crazy...

Reader is leaving with Mackie, they want Chris to party with his boys. Before reader leaves Chris hugs her from behind, kisses her cheek, grabs her hips and whispers I love you in her ear. Reader smiling, stroking his arm, leaving his grip, leaves with Mackie.

Next morning both their phones blow up... Don't know what happens next?!

Something like this?

Thanks!!!

hello, sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you like nomad steve.

summary - you go out celebrating with your best friend, steve rogers, and end up waking up with some news about yourself.

warning - word whore is used, flirty friends, maybe more, fluff.

slight 18+ but not really? the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @firefly-graphics and @newlips

You felt excited as you got ready. Your best friend Steve Rogers had been announced the sexiest man alive, which called for celebration. You check how well your black corset-like jumpsuit fits perfectly against your form. Before leaning forward, swiping a deep red lipstick across your plump lips, and checking to ensure nothing is on your teeth and everything is perfect. This was Steve’s night, and you didn’t want to ruin it by looking like trash next to him.

As you leave your room, a squeal leaves your lips as someone’s arms wrap around your form, preventing you from crashing into them. A smile forms on your face as Steve’s scent fills you, causing you to hit his chest. “You asshole. Scared the shit outta me.” As you look up, you are met with his smirking face, and his eyes slowly move down your body.

“From where I’m standing, you should be named sexiest woman alive. Don’t you look gorgeous, babydoll.” Steve spins you around, shamelessly admiring the view. “You ready to go?” You nod, feeling goosebumps erupt throughout you. 

Steve’s hands grip your hips as he grinds into you, the beat of the music and alcohol flowing through your bodies. He nestles his face into your neck. His beard rubbing against your sensitive skin makes you feel tingly inside. Your core begins to throb when he begins to kiss along your skin, softly sucking and nibbling on your sweet spot. “You smell so damn good, babydoll.”

Your hands move behind you, tangling your fingers into his hair as you grind your ass into his growing bulge. Soft whimpers escape you, and both of you ignore the flashes of cameras and fans recording you, too lost in one another to care.

Steve and you would continue dancing to the music for a while, sticking close to one another, flirting and touching each other up. To everyone, that was normal, as Steve and you were known to flirt on red carpets and in interviews, constantly dismissing the questions of relationships and hookups. 

You and Steve finally walk over to the group, having a few drinks before you stand. Wishing everyone a good night whilst squeezing Steve’s shoulder and whispering that he should stay and catch up with everyone. Sam also stands, “I can take you. I haven’t been drinking much, and I also promised my girl I’d be home early.” The group nods, saying their goodbyes.

But as you turn to leave, Steve stands. Grabbing your body and pulling you against him, “I’m going to miss you so much, baby doll.” His hands slowly move down your body, causing you to squirm before he rests them on your hips, gripping them as his lips brush against your ear. “Text me when you get home so I know you're okay.” You nod, knowing you will miss his presence when you leave. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek before moving back to your ear. “Good girl, I love you.”

You smile softly, your hands coming up to stroke his arms, giving them a gentle squeeze before you leave his grasp, quickly leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth before heading over to where Sam stands. The two of you ignore the cameras as you hop into the car and drive off.

“Thanks, Sam. Get home safe to your girl, okay?” You lean into the window, smiling at him.

“Will do! Make sure you text Steve when you get inside, or he’ll send a search party.” You chuckle, remembering the last time you forgot to let him know you got home safely, pushing off the car. You wave and head up to your door, and once Sam sees you’ve gotten inside, he drives off. 

You smile softly as Steve’s scent is still on you. His touch can still be felt as if he’s standing right behind you. You take your phone out and shoot him a quick message before heading into your room and strip, changing into softer comfortable clothes and then heading into the bathroom to remove your make-up. As you enter your room, your phone pings causing you to check it, and a smile appears when it’s Steve telling you how much he loves you and, hopefully, he’ll be home soon to cuddle. Crawling into bed, you plug your phone in and fall into a peaceful sleep.

You groan as ringing pierces through your ears, wondering who the fuck could be calling you. Your eyes slowly open, blinking away the blurriness before you try and reach for your phone but find yourself trapped. Slowly, you look down and find someone’s arms wrapped around you before you can turn and discover who the person is. They grumble, nuzzling their face into your neck and the deep voice that escapes them sends shivers straight to your core. “Turn that thing off. What dumbass is calling you this early?” 

You realise your body is already relaxed. It probably already noticed it was Steve before your foggy mind did. “I can’t, dumbass, your holding my arms hostage.” You hear him grumble, letting your arms go so you can see what’s happening, and you wish you didn’t. “Well… It seems I’m yours and Sam’s whore, and who knows who else’s.”

When the word whore leaves your lips, Steve’s head perks up, and his eyes narrow into a glare. Snatching the phone out of your hands and scrolling through every article, post and photo he can find. “The shit is this?”

“Language.” You smile as he glares at you. Watching as he grabs his phone and notices the same shit popping up on his social media. “It’s okay, Steve. I’m not that bothered, and it’s not like I didn’t know stuff like this would pop up. Things pop up when we stand too close to each other, but we ignore them.” He places the phones down, pulling you closer to his body and wrapping you into a giant hug.

“Yeah, but the only thing they got wrong is that you aren’t mine and Sam’s whore.” His eyes stare down at your face, slowly making their way down to your lips, and he leans closer until you can feel his breath against your face. “You’re my whore.” As he finishes, he connects your lips into a passionate kiss.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollasks #imyourbratzdollwork #steve rogers #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers angst #steve rogers au #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #captain america #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans character #chris evans characters

[toomuchracket]

can we just circle back to bridgerton ross for a sec. I have so many thoughts. the balls and glances across a room. you in one of the beautiful dresses. him in the ruffle-y shirts and his hair and beard all gorgeous and the carriage scene. need I say more. taking a turn around the grounds with him and laughing loudly at each other and everyone staring but you’re besotted with each other. touches of hands and him being speechless when he sees you at the top of the stairs at a ball. and he comes to call on you and you spend hours talking about books and music and it’s SO BRIDGERTON!! and also really sexy. imagine him all shirtless in one of those big 1800s beds in a morning all tangled together and your curls draped over him and UGH MY BRAIN IS GOING TO EXPLODE.

mind you it's the season 1 plot so it's "pretend" at first (you do find the other devastatingly gorgeous, though), but then when neither of you are paying attention it somehow becomes... real? like you go for a promenade with someone else one morning, as is the plan, and when you see ross that afternoon he jokes like "did you miss me?" and rather than snarking back you automatically and honestly say "a lot". an emotionally charged moment where he tells you he's going to ask for blessing to propose to you because he really truly has fallen in love with you, followed by a kiss that leaves you dizzy... yeah. and do not get me or @abiiors started on the bedroom activities because dear god even the thought of it is insane. him unlacing your corset? more like lace me into a fucking straitjacket. gorgeous ask thank you so much for sending <3

#mads answers asks #ross asks #fluff asks #smutty asks #bridgerton ross

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon’s Dogma 2

Pairing: Arisen/Phaesus

Chapter Rating: Mature

AO3

Figures spin in an array of silks. Donning masks feathered or scaled or embellished in some format or another. Fancy birds and beasts alike. And her eyes watch from the shadowed corner of the room.

Blonde hair. Braided bun. Blue plumed mask.

Blonde. Braided. Blue.

The description plays on repeat for her target of a delivered letter. A noblewoman—Lady Henrietta—who can be swayed to the side of the arisen. To her side. Not that she cares for her position or any side swaying (unless it’s in reference to a pretty woman) but she cares for Ser Brant and Regentkin Sven and they are the ones pulling all the strings. Someone always is. She’d made an attempt at convincing Brant to let a pawn go in her stead but it failed. Miserably. So she resigns herself to playing puppet. At least she can don a pretty dress, drink and dance. Besides, their hard work on her behalf should be rewarded, no? And it’s not like it’s a difficult assignment. She might even be best suited for it, her whole life spent knowing the subtle details of each of her goats to call them by name. These nobles are just goats.

More masqueraders filter through the doorway and something new plays on the violin, soft and sensual. Half the candles are blown out, casting a warm, moody glow on cheeks unshadowed. Roses in a vast array of pinks and reds fill vases around the room, and the sweet fragrance cannot drown out the scent of sweat and sex that permeates the air.

Gwyn manages to spot a woman matching the description she’s searching for. But the blue of her dress is caught up in a twirl on the dance floor, the same blue plumes of her mask taking flight before she can even peel herself off the pillar. With slumped shoulders, she sighs and mindlessly adjusts her own scaled black mask. Patience is almost too steep a price for paragonal virtue.

A shiver runs up her spine and she averts her gaze from the dancers to scan the dim-lit recesses between the marbled columns nearby. Her eyes land on a tall figure, dressed in black with mask to match, hands clasped behind his back. The gold accents on both mask and robe gleam when the flickering flame catches the metallic just so. His attire is different. Not Vermundian in style but more Battahli, and she wonders what a noble from the neighboring country is doing here. Surely events such as these exist in his own courts and ballrooms. Does he just want to bask in the revelries of Vermundian customs or is he on a mission, much the same as she? A half smirk tugs at those lips, eyes never leaving her and his bearded jawline is accentuated by the candle’s half-light. Like a moth to his flame, she floats over to him.

He’s not quite as tall as her up close. And not everything is black. The habit beneath the robes is a deep shade of purple and a thick, wine red cord is tied about his waist. All of it is luxurious garb, the kind only befitting nobles and she wonders what title he carries back home.

His eyes remain fixated on her. More often her chest than any other feature. She can’t say she wouldn’t do the same if she were him. But isn’t that what these little masquerades are about? They say it’s to celebrate The (false) Sovran but everyone knows what those celebrations entail. Unadulterated lust and stolen moments of forbidden fornication disguised as dancing. She smooths her hands down her corset, his eyes never straying from her body. At least he carries no false pretenses about his desires. She determines she likes him already and closes the small gap between them.

A tilt of his head and his eyes flick back up to hers with a pleased hum. “Why, you’re—”

His voice is like a hypnotic rumble carried on smoke laden clouds. Or velvet sheets caressing the skin just before that first light of dawn peeks through the curtains. A voice she associates with satiated desire coupled with possession and she wants to be his tonight. She just knows with that deep decadent tone and alluring cadence that he’s the type to talk you through an orgasm and if not, she’ll take enjoyment from hearing that voice of his relinquish a moan while threading her fingers through his raven colored locks. Raising a brow in piqued interest, she hopes he continues speaking.

“No, pay me no mind.”

“A senseless request when you have caught my attention and are all that consumes my mind now.”

A small smirk but her bold attempt at flirting is not enough to make him blush. He unfolds his arms from behind his back, dispersing the tension of his haughty posture with a roll of his wrist. “We who are gathered here are naught but nameless nobles. Twould be uncouth to inquire after another’s identity.”

She wants to laugh. Ask how many times he’s rehearsed such an alliterative line or if he’s the type to succumb to such formalities. But the way he turns each word into goosebumps on her arms has her trading her almost-laugh in for fire running through her veins. She no longer even cares about his name. Would it be uncouth if she skipped banter altogether and went straight to sex in the corridor? Does she care if it was? She surmises she aught to at least dance with him first.

“All such speak of identity aside, might I ask you to dance?”

“I would be a fool to deny you.”

“You would indeed, my lord.” He offers a small bow before taking the lead.

Fingers cool to the touch, hers interlock with his until they find a place amongst the other masked dancers. Somehow her memory serves her for once when she recalls the required four-steps and turn for this particular dance but her mind wanders. One-two steps and he’s too far away. The third and the fourth, brings him back and she wants him closer. Wants him to stay. Desires his fingers skimming along her skin, playing her like the violin, her sighs harmonizing with his.

“You seem distracted,” he says when they rejoin, fingers interlocking with hers, raising their arms into the air as they slowly circle one another. His lips, thin and yet so alluring, are so close. Too close. Not close enough.

“Are you not?”

Though taciturn, the desire that burns behind his own dark eyes, reveals a satisfactory answer.

A catch of breath and his eyes don’t leave her as she steps back, spins and then they trade partners. Another four-steps that she must focus on or else be tripped up, and she loses sight of him with the next twirl. The music comes to an end. The crowd claps, pressed in tight together. She stretches on tip-toes and searches above the crowd. Spies his robe slipping smoothly away toward the fringes and she follows, almost forgetting the whole reason she’s at this masquerade.

A collision. A gasp. And wine is spilled down the front of her bodice but she spots that braided, blonde and blue and remembers the letter. Squeezing past the clumsy, wine-spilling noble, she reroutes herself, trailing after the blue dress.

A hand gently wraps around her wrist from the shadows and she’s pulled away from her pursuit.

“There you are.”

“My lord, I hardly think I was lost. You are the one who left and are in need of searching out.”

“Am I?”

She grants him an easy smile, taking in his form. “Indeed. Though, you are found now.”

A hum of acknowledgment and he folds his arms across his chest.

“I regret that I must leave you for a moment but I have need to speak with a friend. But after, if it would please you, I would relish in the opportunity to share another dance.”

“I was thinking we could share in a moment more—private.”

“I believe there is a storage—”

He interrupts, lips almost against her ear as he says, “let us reconvene when the clock strikes the next hour.”

She nods. Searches out Lady Henrietta. It’s all hush hush and a secret exchange gone well before Gwyn is almost sprinting around the outer hallway, blotting away the wet spot of spilled wine on her black dress with a kerchief she stole from a man in a Beastren mask.

She will definitely be early.

Heart racing as the clock tolls the new hour, Gwyn readjusts her position on a forgotten desk littered with old, dusty books buried in the ballroom's storage closet behind a room divider. Remembering to breathe, she quells her nervous excitement. But it all shatters when the door creaks open and the gentle hum of a spell is cast. She marks down another certainty. But is he a mage or sorcerer? Or some combination of the two? She resigns herself to thinking it doesn’t matter.

“I presume you found your way easily enough?” She hopes it’s her masked tryst and not a guard she’s speaking to.

“Indeed,” he answers and her momentary worry dissipates.

“You did lock the door, yes?” Though, she can make the assumption easily enough if he felt the need to use magic.

Rounding the room divider, she takes in his handsome form and it’s a shame she can’t peel off that mask and those robes to reveal all of what’s underneath. To see what face that growl of a voice comes from. But his mouth will have to do as he inches closer and she tugs the wine colored cord around his waist. He nearly loses balance, but braces himself, palms on either side of her. Cupping his chin in her hand, she captures his dark brown gaze and slowly inches toward him, breath on his lips.

“Yes. And we shall remain uninterrupted for a few hours,” he says.

“Hours?”

He closes the gap between them, lips pressing against hers in a surprisingly gentle way and her fingers crawl along his jawline and slip to the back of his neck where she twirls a dark lock around her finger. Heart thudding wildly, she releases all of her pent up tension with a tug of his hair. A soft, pleasant gasp and she smiles against him. Deepens the kiss with a slant of her lips and flick of her tongue, she yanks him even closer. But he breaks away with a coy smile.

“Time is needed for a fruitful and thorough experience.”

“Thorough hmm?”

“Might I inquire of you?

“Go on.”

“How well,” he reaches down, hooking his fingers under the hem of her dress, thumbs sliding across her thighs, as he slowly shuffles the fabric upward, bunching it around her hips, “do you follow instruction?”

She expects a grin but only seriousness lingers in his gaze. “I suppose it depends upon who is instructing and if they are worthy of my obedience or not.”

“Hmm,” he says thoughtfully, inching to his knees. A press of his lips against her inner thigh and his eyes flick back up to hers. “I shall make myself worthy then.”

#bear writes #dd2 fanfic #dragon’s dogma 2 fanfic #dd2 #dragon’s dogma 2 #phaesus x arisen #ascension #chapter 1 #oc: gwyn #eyyy it’s out 😅

[rachelillustrates]

Need to have a bit of a moment about feminine-presenting fantasy Dwarf representation....

So I've been in "The Hobbit" fandom in full enthusiasm ✨hyperfixaaaaaaation✨ for about a year and a half now, and one thing that is EXTREMELY important to me is that fantasy Dwarves, in any Universe, are a) short, though not as short as my beloved Gnomes, and b) THICK. WIDE. EARTHY. And I know that working with taller human actors in the Hobbit films didn't portray that perfectly, but in general, it seems like that perception holds true enough and, again, has carried over into other media (and was there BEFORE the Hobbit movies in the first place).

They should ALSO be hairy, in the best of circumstances, though I understand we don't always get that regardless of what gender presentation is involved. Ahem.

In most cases - including those films AND the book they spring from - the focus is on masculine-presenting Dwarves.

BUT.

Those proportions usually hold true for feminine-presenting characters as well.

Some examples:

(From "The Hobbit" films specifically.)

(From "Rings of Power." HAIL Princess Disa. Though she needs a fuller beard, too - smoochy picture included to highlight what fuzz she does have. And because she and Durin are adorable.)

(From World of Warcraft - with feminine-presenting Night Elf for reference since that still b a r e l y counts as stocky, but their "average woman shape" is even more on the thin side, so I still think the intention was for us to view the Dwarves as thicker with that comparison.)

Those being my biggest two points of personal reference, I'm gonna stop there - but the POINT of all of this is that I recently read "A Fellowship of Bakers & Magic" by J. Penner.

Which IS delicious.

And includes a feminine-presenting Dwarf named Dolgrila "Doli" Butterbuckle. Who I would already freaking DIE for istg.

Her introduction, from the text:

(Transcription of the highlighted bits:

"The dwarf was a vision in a corseted, buttery yellow dress. The bright, warm hue complemented her rich complexion and lush head of sable curls. Each hair coil seemed to dance with the same radiant joy shown by her twinkling brown eyes and pearly smile. Holstered on her ample hip, where one might expect a weapon, was instead a teacup and saucer, held together by leather straps. ..... "I'm Dolgrila Butterbuckle," she said while reading. "But everyone calls me Doli." ")

AND the next book in the series ("A Fellowship of Librarians & Dragons," out Nov. 2024) IS ABOUT HER!!!!! ✨🎉✨

BUT. This is the cover:

And I zero percent mean any of the following as a complaint against the artist. I am sure they were just following the publisher's order. And BIG YAY for the publisher actually hiring a HUMAN!! Good choices are being made, there.

BUT.

If I didn't know already that Doli is a Dwarf, I WOULD NOT KNOW THAT FROM THIS IMAGE.

She looks, basically, human. She is almost just as skinny as the human woman (Arleta Starstone, also a badass character) on the cover of the first book.

Referring again to the images of the World of Warcraft Dwarves above, though, she DOES look a lot like them, proportionally. So I'm wondering, now that I've done that research/refresher, if that is the Dwarven standard that the Powers that Be were going off of, in this case. Especially since she is clean-shaven. And especially since in one scene, she alters one of her own dresses to fit the aforementioned human - though in my reading of it, I just assumed that she took in the waist of the dress, too, as well as adding onto the length.

But to my eye, with my Hobbit-fandom/folklore heavy standards - at best, she looks like a half-human, half-Gnome, to me, especially with her nearly reaching the shoulder of a being that should be MUCH taller than her, as far as I can tell.

(I will admit I adore her outfit and want one, please.)

(And I will also admit that I MIGHT be assuming that person behind her is taller than they actually are, and I DO hope I am proven wrong. If she is like 4 feet tall, maybe they are only like 5 1/2 feet tall or so. I guess we'll find out in 11 months.)

So. That said.

Part of what attracts me to fantasy Dwarves in the first place is that they ARE plus-size. Unforgivingly so, most of the time. As a short, plus-size person myself, they are a haven in a swath of feminine-presenting representations across lots, and lots, of media that treats the feminine-presenting form as "average" height or taller, AND much thinner than most non-Hollywood women actually are, these days.

So to have seen this, when I realized the next book was about Doli and rushed (in my elation) to read the synopsis, was a notable disappointment.

ANYWAY, I will be drawing Doli myself, as I saw her, for self-care purposes. And here's the bare bones so far:

And all of that said, I will leave you with one of my favorite moments with her in the story:

(Transcription of the highlighted bits:

" “He was very generous on our trip here,” Arleta whispered as her cheeks heated slightly. “And a perfect gentleman, but we’re only friends.” She stopped and worked out the timing in her mind for a moment. “We’ve only known each other for less than two days, really.”

Doli let out a giggle, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Well, look at us. We’ve only known each other for a few hours and we’re already best friends. Did you know that some elves are fated?”

“What does that mean? Arleta asked, intrigued by Doli’s quick change of subject.

Doli’s eyes lit with pleasure. “I visited the library here – it’s massive by the way – and read through a few books on elven culture. You know, to figure things out. I love libraries and books.” She leaned in closer. “Some of them – not all – get night visions of their soul partner. They can experience these for years, starting when they are very young.”

Arleta tipped her head in great interest. “Do they always find these soul partners?”

“No,” Doli said with a hint of wistfulness. “If they don’t, they will never settle for anyone else. They could never fully commit to another.”

“That’s sad.” Arleta winced as the large ogre she’d seen before took his seat directly in front of her, completely blocking the stage.

“Or romantic,” Doli sighed.")

And all of all of THAT said, I do highly recommend the book!! Illustration issues aside - and I'm looking at you too, World of Warcraft - the more Dwarven romances we support, and more feminine-presenting Dwarven representation we support, the more (and better) we'll get!!

So, check it out here on Goodreads and please pick it up at your local bookstore or library, if you can!!

#doli butterbuckle #a fellowship of bakers & magic #inspiration #dwarves #fantasy dwarf #dwarf women #lotr meta #size positive #size representation #personal

[subwaysurf45]

The Time of the Prey (5)

Summary: The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made. 

Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Words: 3k

Warning: angst, kidnapping, being tied up, reference to rape (very little though), yelling, swearing

Series Masterlist      II      Series Playlist

When your consciousness came back to you it was far too late, the carriage was jostling around and hitting many stones. As a royal you knew this meant you were entering a kingdom with their own gravel grounds that caused the horse to move a little more skittishly. You were far away from a main road; your stomach began to turn. 

One man’s foot was pressed to your back, you laid on your stomach with your corset undone but nothing exposed, you had no idea if anyone had gone too far. You didn’t want them to know you were awake because you wanted to go as uninjured as possible. 

Growing up you had heard many stories about knights in shining armor saving their princesses and marrying them, Princes will save their wives and brothers will save their sisters to bring back to their father. Every story you were taught to sit and wait for someone, a man, to come find you. It may be because you are a little too hard headed, or maybe because you wanted to prove your late father wrong. 

But you were going to get out of there yourself, even if it meant losing an arm or your life in the process. 

When the carriage stopped you moved your head to the side, looking up at the man who had his foot on your back. He smirked at you and moved to get out of the cart, dragging you by your foot out as well. Your head smashed into the ground and caused a moment of spinning, stars appeared in your vision as another man hauled you over his shoulder. 

It seemed no one was around as they walked with you towards descending stairs, not many castles had dungeons these days, torutre and hostages weren’t common. But there was a war beginning now and everyone retreated back to their primary mind, needing to take what they could and keep it for as long as possible. 

When the man went down the stairs he held you over his shoulder, smashing his feet onto the ground so your ribs dug into the bone every step. It was a long staircase, never ending pain in your stomach, you let out a few groans but didn’t want any more attention to yourself, you couldn’t seem weak. 

“Here you go, Princess,” the man who was carrying you threw you onto the ground, causing you to groan in pain. The men were quick to tie you up against a few makeshift poles, the rope burned against your skin. “I’m surprised you haven’t said anything.” 

“The last time I attempted to speak you threatened to slit my throat,” you spoke to one out of three men, “so forgive me for being too quiet.” 

All of them laughed, “I like her,” said one with a bright orange beard. 

“Leave us,” a man with black hair that fell to his waist waved off his accomplices, staring you down in the process. He had many scars on his face, one of them caused his eyelid to be permanently pulled back. 

“You’re the ringleader, huh?” you asked. 

“You bet your ass I am,” he smirked and kneeled down to your level, “you’re the Princess, huh?” 

“I mean, not the important one,” you smiled at him, “I’m dead meat in most people's eyes, something they’d completely look past. My sister on the other hand…” you tried off and looked over to the side. 

“Your sister is a good prize but one that is almost impossible to earn,” the man’s voice was gravely and harsh, “taking her would have caused Sheildshire and South Lands to already be knocking down your drawbridge, and we needed a little more time so we chose you.” 

“I’m just curious because it seems like we’re being open here,” you saw the way he flashed a genuine grin, “why not my mother?” 

He scoffed and looked back to the door, “we’re spies,” he stood and kicked some dirt into your face, “we’re not monsters,” his feet took him to the door, “you’ll learn tomorrow how much we already know.” 

The door closed and you were left in the darkness, the air was still and it smelled of death. From the number of times you had been thrown around you couldn’t tell what that blurry image of white was in the corner, you hoped it wasn’t a skull. 

It was late in the afternoon, you could tell from the sun’s position and the moon already visible in the sky. There was a window with bars running vertically, you could see a small part of the sky but it was enough to know the time of day. 

A chill continuously ran up and down your back, you shook your entire body to try and stay warm but there was no use. There were dying embers in a fire pit, the smallest glow came from the centre, the heat was not not strong enough to get to you. 

The restraints were ropes tied tightly around your wrists and ankles, you were on your knees and got some relief when you rested back on your calves. The ropes were attached to hooks that were attached to wooden pillars, holding you taught. Your arms were slightly behind you and stretched out wide, causing stress to your elbow and shoulders, sitting back on your calves did only little to soothe the pain of ripping muscles. The ropes around your ankles were tied in such a way that made your ankles cross, causing pins and needles to flow up your right foot. 

“Ugh,” you pulled your right arm but only caused the pain to shoot further in your body, you looked over your shoulder to see what the contraption did when you pulled on it, seeing the way the wooden beam slightly moved. You did it again and the rope on the hook moved as well. 

After a few more pulls your limbs were screaming at you so you stopped, looking out the window and seeing the faint moon in the daylight. Maybe James was looking at it as well, you closed your eyes and saw him in front of you, smiling like he did when he came to see you paint. 

Your stomach twisted and your heart felt like it was going to explode at the thought that you might die with him thinking you were still cross with him. The painting was the best thing you had ever done but there’s no point in what you’ve done if you’re not there to make more of it. 

James was probably on his way now, trying to rescue you. That was sweet, and maybe someone else would want a knight in shining armour to help out. 

But you were about to break out of here alone. 

*******

James waited patiently outside the queen-to-be’s door, anxiously gripping the hilt of his dagger with one hand and his sword’s hilt with the other. Though he wore full silver armour now he had yet to put on his black gloves, they got way too hot and made his hands sweat. Through the door he could hear the wallows of Princess Natasha, Lady Melina, and Prince Steve was also in there as well, trying their best to calm her down but nothing worked. 

“Sorry to intrude…” James waited for a moment, thinking a small moment of silence was the best time to knock, “may I enter?” 

“You may,” Lady Melina spoke clearly. 

James opened the door to see Princess Natasha sitting on the edge of her bed, still in her dressing gown as she cried heavily into Prince Steve’s chest, covering most of her face with her hands. 

“As you may know,” James cleared his throat, “the war has begun, we are leaving before nightfall,” his eyes looked at Lady Melina’s, “I take full blame and responsibility for what happened to your daughter.” 

Lady Melina stood and flattened out her dark dress, “she told me that she fancied you,” a smile crept onto both of their faces, though both eyes stayed sad, “she told me other things as well…” 

“When I see her I’ll tell her I failed her,” James gulped, waiting to see her reaction. 

“Son,” Lady Melina reached out and cupped James’ cheek, “this is our life as women, I was a hostage before marrying their father,” she shook her head, “you didn’t fail anyone.” 

“But he did,” a voice came from James’ left, Natasha stood up with tears streaking down her face, “you were supposed to protect her, take care of her, make sure she wasn’t taken!” she screamed, Prince Steve quickly grabbed the Princess’ arms at her elbows, holding her back. 

“Natash-”

“She might die if you don’t get her, I don’t understand why you haven’t left now!” she jolted forward and broke out of the Prince’s grasp, “too busy with your preparations and yet you’re still behind-”

“Natasha-”

“I swear to the Gods the moment she comes back I’ll send her to find a real husband, a real man who will actually make sure she stays safe for the rest of her life,” her finger poked hard on James' armour. He couldn’t feel a thing. “You failed her, and you will always fail her.” 

James placed both hands out in surrender, “you must understand-”

“I understand perfectly!” she screamed, “you are the one who has failed to comprehend the danger you’ve put her in,” more tears gathered into her eyes, the rage and anger not completely taking over the sadness. 

“No,” James said slowly, “you must understand that your sister has been nothing but the second choice her entire life, you must understand that if I don’t get her back she will never know she will always be my first choice,” he paused and looked at Lady Melina, “I have failed her, yes. But you must know in my mind and heart she was always my first choice but it was executed terribly wrong.” then James looked at Natasha, “and I know you hate me, you might always hate me and I understand but never think-” tears welled in his eyes, “never think for a second I would leave her alone in a dungeon, I will go get her, and I will make sure she is safe.” 

“You will never see her,” Natasha spat, “if I learn that you’ve even looked at her I will have your head,” her tone was venomous and quiet. 

“NATASHA!” Lady Melina threw her daughter to the ground, “who do you think you are?” 

James took a step back, “it seems I should go…” 

“You should,” Natasha stood right in front of James, “I hope you have learned duty is the death of love.” 

James bowed in front of Natasha, “and you will soon learn love is the death of duty.” 

Before James could fully leave her room Lady Melina looked at James one more time, “go get my daughter, please.” her hand reached out and grabbed his, squeezing it tightly. 

“I will.” James nodded and left the room quickly, holding back his own tears as he walked to where most men were gathered. 

Men passed James in a blurr, James would nod and simply keep walking. He was not the highest regarded Knight in the kingdom but he was still one to be feared, everyone knew him because of how close he was to the Prince. 

“Ser,” a man had passed him, stopped, then called out his name, “may I ask where you’re going?” James didn’t respond, looking at him confused, “I do not mean to intrude if you have other duties but…the horses are nearly ready, I’d say you’re close to being left behind.” 

James nodded and looked over his shoulder, “I left my bag in my chamber, I will be there soon enough,” James forced a smile as the younger Knight quickly walked away. 

The moment he closed his door he pushed his back against it with force, a hand coming to his mouth to cover the sobs he wanted to let out. He hoped and prayed no one was standing outside of his door, waiting to knock and come in because James knew you can hear almost everything through the cracks in the wood. 

His breaths were short, his hand moving to his neck where the lump resided. In his mind you were there, standing before him with a sad look on your face. The one, of many, things he loved about you was your empathy, you could feel and internalize the feelings coming from another person and in this moment he missed the feeling. 

In his mind you stood in your favourite dress, bare feet, a sad smile. Your hands were reaching out slowly, making sure he knew you were about to touch him. As he wiped away his own tears he imagined you doing for him, “it’s okay,” he whispered to himself, changing his own voice in his head to match yours, “you’re okay.”

When his breathing came back James rolled his shoulders back, standing tall and keeping his chin up. His mind was shutting off, rage and anger were guiding him to his horse. His armour and metal clinked together as his feet pounded against the floor, he pulled on his gloves with a few quick tugs. 

His eyes were dead straight, not looking away for anything or anyone asking him questions. James found his caramel coloured horse, Ryder, and jumped on without hesitation. 

“Ser,” a squire came beside him, “we don’t have your bag-”

“Doesn’t matter,” James grumbled with his eyes forward, “they’ll all be dead by sunrise.” the squire backed away and James whipped his reigns, “Men,” he called, “onward!”

The castle slowly disappeared behind James’ shoulder, his eyes were set forward and his mind had one single thought. 

Bring her home. 

If not for him, then for Lady Melina. 

He knew he didn’t deserve you, not after what he had done. He had kept you locked up in your room, lonely in a kingdom that was not yours. Not to mention James ruining your painting, he could have easily gone to get it himself, but he didn’t want to miss the meeting. He had let the war take over when in reality all he wanted to think about was you, he didn’t remember the last time he spent real time with you; and now he’d have to pay. 

Lady Natasha had real power, though she wasn’t from his kingdom she could still make changes as if she owned it. She had all the power to banish James and make him never see you again, she could send her sister away to anywhere her heart desires, making her far away from James. 

The entire group was in a steady pace, James rode alone on the dirt path while everyone else doubled up. His eyes never budged whenever someone would call his name, he was near the front because of his status but there were men in front of him to answer the questions. James growled at a few men who decided to pull their horses up beside him, after an hour it was known that James wanted nothing to do with these men; just you. 

James wanted to be there by nightfall but that was next to impossible, though he thought he could make it there if his horse was full sprint the entire time but he knew that wasn’t fair to the horse so he stuck with the trotting group. The deeper into the forest the harder it was to tell the time. There were sections where the high trees completely covered the sky, leaving a very dark path in front of them. Men much smarter than James would know when to stop, they would be able to tell the time with the smallest crack of sun shining through the leaves. 

On the forefront of his mind was you. 

Your smile and your laugh, the way you hugged him. James could almost feel your head against his chest, the way you nuzzled into him after a few seconds, almost letting him know your guard was down and he could also relax like you. As much as he wanted to save you and bring you home he knew the inevitable was waiting for him, he could run away with you but that would look like the same situation you were in now: a man taking you away. But James wasn’t just a man to you, he could tell from the way you looked at him you fancied him, the only way he knew was because you looked at him the same way he looked at you. 

“We’re stopping here!” a man called from the front of the line, “no tents, we’re up early tomorrow, find a tree or a stump and make sure your horse doesn’t run away,” everyone shouted back a verbal confirmation. 

James slightly pulled off to the side, not getting in anyone's way. “Here we go Ryder,” James groaned as he dismounted off the horse, “let me get you some food,” he always had a habit of talking to Ryder, he’d grown up with the war horse. 

“Can I get three apples?” James asked the man with all the food. 

“Three?” he sighed, “you don’t need three.” 

“For my horse,” James crossed his arm, “two are for my horse.” 

“Two and a half is all you’re getting, Ser,” the man split one apple down the middle and passed them to James. Other men grabbed their food and headed back to their spot, James found Ryder again and fed him the apples, leaving the half to himself. 

His back slid against the tree, using his pocket knife to cut up slices for himself while he tried to make himself comfortable. Through the tall trees there was a pocket of sky, it was deep in the night. A chill ran down his spine, causing him to snag the blanket off the pack on his horse. His eyes made their way to the sky again, finding one star visible in the small crack. 

It twinkled and winked at him, the way your eyes do. A smile graced his lips as winked back, it was almost like looking into one of your eyes. 

almost. 

NEXT EPISODE

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#The Time of the Prey series #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky series #bucky barnes series #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x yn #bucky barnes x female yn #bucky x female yn #bucky barnes x yn #winter solider #winter solider fluff #winter soldier series #winter soldier angst #winter soldier fluff #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan series #knight!bucky

[silentlandoo]

I will protect from the shadows

Summary: You, a barmaid love to see everyone smile around you and cheer while you sway your dressin dances.Little did you know that you were being hunted by the Mandalorian,who hired him to hunt you? What do they want from you? Why does that broken lonely man that is hunting you makes your heart skip a beat?

Chapter 1 of I will protect from the shadows

Rating: Mature

Words:

TW: Fluff, Violence, wounded y/n.

Note: This is my first fic made from Tumblr, hope you enjoy! :] I love din like you all do( Pedro did him good.) My first language is not English(it’s Cantonese) so mercy

_________________________

Rasputin- by Boney M.

“Y/N! Another please!” “Roger that!”

“Y/N Get me some ice!” “Yes Sir!”

YOu were sprinting around one table to another, carrying bottles of spotchka. The sounds of people cheering and drunk-singing fills you with happiness. Everyone you knew is from this pub, you smiled at the sight, “Y/N!” The chef’s scream broke you from the daydream and you ran to the kitchen.

“Yes?” You asked, the chef, Maxir who's a big man, the “Big” as in…8 feet tall with a barrel large-like belly, having the coolest beard ever, man’s ginger beard was breaded together, Cool. Like I said.

“ Can you please entertain the crowd? I’m still under-pressure here.” Maxir laughed with beads of sweats rolling down his forehead from the smoke. You nodded with the biggest smile, walking out the kitchen into the crowd. You jumped on the bar table and gained everyone’s attention through you grabbing a empty glass bottle and smashing it onto the ground.

“Who’s ready for the best night of their life?!” You yelled while your signature song starts to play, you start to grab your the edge of your long flowing dress, your petticoat assisting on not letting anyone see your under-. You wore what a normal Barmaid wore, a simple white over-the-shoulder top with a black corset accompanying it by the waist and a rose red long flowing dress with hand-sewn edges as an addition.

As you swayed your way through the bar table, with everyone cheering as you danced with glee. Grabbing a pillar by the bar and twirling around it, earning some whistles and some robot squeaking. As you finished singing and thanked everyone for their attention, Maxir announced that meals are finally ready.

You continued your work and served drinks, you came upon a table of one. You have encountered many people before, strange looking ones, dumb looking ones, many. But this…this is a first. He wore a shiny silver looking metal helmet, with a T-shaped tinted visor. You continued to observe him, he was wearing armour from head to toe. He wore a blackish cape that stretched from shoulder to thighs, and had numerous weapons beyond imaginable strapped onto his belt.

“How may I help you today?” You cautiously approached, he then looked up at you, you immediately have goosebumps shiver along your body. You received no response, you supposed that he just can’t talk. “I’ll get you started with a drink?”

You still asked, he still looked at you. Like prey. “Thank you.” He said, it surprised you.

You calmed yourself down and smiled at him. Leaving the metal man in his own little corner.

As you came out of the kitchen, you heard a crashing sounds of bottles, and immediately went to see the ruckus. It came from the corner of the metal man you talked to just now.

“ MANDALORIAN. YOUR ARMOR IS QUITE SHINY TO PASS. HOW BOUT A LITTLE TRADE?”

A gather of men was surrounding the metal man from the corner, cheering and clearly drunk. You rush in and blocked in front of the men, you actually don’t recognise the men but still you spoke.

“This is a bar. Not a trading stall, so I advise you to leave and turn left and go straight, you’ll see it by the bright sign.”

You looked at the people in front of you wearing many accessories and jewelries, some with horns and some with…slimy looking mouths.

“And who you might be? His little wifey?!” The man in the middle said, while failing his hand around causing the jewelries to clater.

He grabbed you by your right wrist and starts to squeeze tightly. Before you could say another word, a cup flew right pass you.

SMASH! There goes the man who was talking to you, forehead bleeding blood red and collapsing onto the floor.

Then a large hand clasped on your shoulder and pulls you away from the crowd. Then the mandalorian creeps up behind you, setting you down onto the chair he sat. “Stay.” One word which was enough for you to send shivers down your spines once again.

The first whom head was smashed fell unconscious. The second was then sliced on several places by one single knife he held. The third had his back grabbed from running and stabbed by the shoulder. The fourth had his head smashed onto the table inches beside you

You just sat silently in shock while the Mandalorian obliterates the enemies one by one, after he was done he just stood in a circle of groaning and crying people on the floor.

Not a single scratch was found on him.

You looked around to see the usual customers looking at the man in fear, even your boss Maxir was looking like he had seen a ghost.

The Mandalorian looked at you and moved towards you, grabbing your right wrist. You didn’t even notice that there was a bruise on it from the man clenching on you. He then took out a can of spray by his belt and sprayed without even asking.

You pulled your hand back and looked at him in confusion, the bruise was slightly covered with a white silvery liquid, it felt like a cold breeze of mist and when you slowly examined it, the bruise started to fade.

“Wha-“ You stuttered in awe, “how did you- you know what? Never mind.” He huffs out a puff of air and starts to drag two of the injured men outside, “ngh….” The two men moaned in agony. Maxir then came over, “You alright?” He asked in a worried voice, “all good.” You smiled, “You mind helping me get the rest off the lawn?” Maxir asked, you nodded and so Maxir carried the other two over his shoulder, while you collected the jewelleries that was on the floor.

When you were outside, the Mandalorian stood in the pure night sky. Helmet reflects the starry night of your planet, “Thank you,,, for fending off those…people.”

You smiled again, “Is there something I can help you? Free of charge.” It may be a bad mistake?

He then took out a device, it was beeping furiously.

“This is a tracking fob. It tracks bounties with ease, the closer you are the louder it beeps.”

“You..you were tracking me?”

No response to the man in front of you.

“Where’s Maxir?” You looked in horror. He can’t be…no..

You looked down of the man and sees the red beard shining under the lamppost.

Run.

Run.

Run.

You turned around and bolted, you can’t stop. Whatever this man wants, it can’t be good. Bounty hunters are never good. Breathing fast and running fast, your body is telling you to slow down but your brain told you to keep going. You can’t count how many buildings you past; tears bursting through your eyes, lungs are basically screaming you to stop running.

But you just can’t stop, you’re scared.

Once you turned around a corner, you saw him again. “What..” You muttered, breath hitching. Tears still running, the lamppost shines his suit of armour.

Pop!

The light of the lamppost suddenly popped, then it went pitch black. You just kneeled on the floor, staring into the darkness, hearing his footsteps getting closer and closer to you.

“Don’t kneel on the ground, the dress will get dirty.”

“Wha-“

Then you swore you saw the man before your eyelids betrayed you from the sudden shock of electric through your body.

Author: Ahahaa,,, I don’t know what I’m doing~ but I want to give Din a bad first impression first, scaring the bloody hell out of you. Cause for me I would absolutely bolt off, bye b*tch. I want to try and link up on the book of boba fett and mando season 3! Maybe even change up some stuff~?

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Kloktober 2023: Day 3 - Mordhaus Costume Ball

I have had the intrusive thought of Vater Orlaag dressed as Black Beard loosely based off of the version of Black Beard from Our Flag Means Death for two or three weeks now. This is probably rated about Teen and as usual includes my OC Lucy. 1,711 words below the cut. <3 Also wanted to mention that Charles' costume description was inspired by this post by @chordsykat

“Master, you’re certain that I’m the best choice for this?”

“Out of anyone here, you’re the best at masking yourself.” At least, he was the best at it other than Salacia, but Salacia couldn't exactly go to the Ball even disguised, the Dead Man would recognize him immediately.

Vater Orlaag nodded, but internally he felt the equivalent of a long-suffering sigh.

~~~~~

The Mordhaus Costume Ball was, in a word, opulent. The room that the band typically used to put on performances for new Klokateers was cleared out and decorated with Victorian Gothic décor, and they were calling it the “Mask of the Red Deth” Costume Ball. It was mostly other celebrities who had been invited, metal musicians and musicians that the band had simply met with throughout the years, but there were also some actors milling about and a few high-ranking Klokateers who were in attendance as guests, a reward for their service to the band.

Everyone in the band was dressed to the nines: Nathan was wearing a black ruffled shirt and leather pants that tied rather than buttoned up. His mask was a leather skull in metallic gold. Murderface wore something more period accurate for nobility that had actually made him feel attractive when he looked in the mirror, a black and red mask complimenting the outfit. Toki wore something that looked almost like a dark Viking outfit in blacks and greens with a mask that had long golden horns as part of it. Skwisgaar looked elf-like, opting for a more androgynous costume in whites and golds, and accented with silver elf ear jewelry combined with a wire wrapped mask.

Pickles looked, in a word, stunning. His dreads were up, and he was wearing tight leather pants, knee high boots, and a black shirt underneath a black and red leather trench coat with pointed shoulders. His mask looked like a black and red skull, emphasizing the theme of the Ball. Lucy was in a corseted black and blood red ball gown with spider web mesh sleeves and a traditional French style corset top, straight lined at the top allowing for what most would consider a minor wardrobe malfunction, something that she had convinced Charles to allow her to get away with because she was “in her own damned ‘haus and the French used to do this as a fashion statement.” He had only agreed because the look genuinely was elegant, if not distracting. The front of the skirt only just covered her, showing off the same spider print mesh on her legs, and the back of the gown trailed slightly. She held a fan in her hand all night, and her leather mask was an intricate black cat with red, silver and gold detailing, matching the elegant collar that she was wearing with rose details tooled into the leather. Her hair was down, but there were two braids that started near her forehead and met and the back of her head like a crown, her bright rainbow hair juxtaposed with her outfit, yet somehow meshing with it perfectly.

Dick was wearing something that could be better characterized as steampunk than anything else, playing up his cybernetic eyes almost as though they were part of his mask. Even Charles was dressed up, his outfit featuring a sleek black corset that emphasized his form and a mask that looked oddly like a darker version of Facebones.

The party was in full swing, and everyone was in bright spirits, mingling, dancing, and socializing. Lucy was having a relatively in-depth conversation with Pickles, when he walked into the room. Lucy happened to glance over at the door just as he was coming in, her hand stopping mid-fan. She lost any semblance of what her best friend was saying in that moment, her eyes drinking the man in. His mask was simple black leather, only covering around his piercing blue eyes that looked like they had thick black eyeliner around them. His long, flowing wavy hair and beard were midnight black, almost as though he had dyed it just for the event, and it looked as though there was smoke coming out of the intricate braids on his beard that were curled outward. The outfit that he wore was entirely made of leather, tight leather pants hugging thick, strong thighs that left nothing to the imagination, a leather jacket that was missing one arm revealing an arm that was toned and strong, leather half gloves, and several belts, one of which had a holster with a dagger in it. He must have stood at almost 7 feet tall and he was buzzing with an intense energy.

Lucy was so busy ogling the man that she hadn’t noticed that Pickles had followed her gaze and had gone silent, now ogling him himself. “Holy shit, dood. Look, I know ya gaht first dibs, but if ya strike out er if he’s down fer a little Double Trouble, come get me, ahlreet? Fuck.”

Lucy nodded, not taking her eyes off of him. “Yeah. Gods, that’d be hot… Who the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know, but if ya don’t get over there, someone else will.”

She was already turning to start walking over to him, “You sure you don’t mind if-“

“Luce, that someone else is gahnna be me in about 5 seconds, go.”

Pickles did not need to tell Lucy twice. She was walking at a speed that indicated any semblance of dignity and restraint had already gone out the window. When she got closer, she made sure to walk with a confident stride, walking right up to him with a wicked little grin on her face.

Vater had seen her walk over, and was currently doing his absolute best not to openly stare at her chest. It didn't help in the slightest that he had an irritating attraction to this woman since the first day that she popped up on the Tribunal's giant screen during a meeting. He didn’t want to allow himself to get distracted, but part of the success of his mission of getting the information that Salacia had wanted was blending in, and that meant social pleasantries. Even still, he was hoping that she wouldn’t prove to be too much of a distraction.

Lucy stopped in front of him, her eyes full of Devilish promise and offering her hand to shake his. “I couldn’t help but notice you coming in from across the room and I had to come over to compliment your costume and introduce myself.”

He didn’t get where he was without knowing how to be charming, so when she offered her hand, Vater took it and brought it to his lips, kissing it and nibbling the knuckle slightly all while looking her in the eyes with a gaze that could have been hypnotic. Lucy bit her lip and visibly shivered, her pupils dilating from the sheer intensity of the moment, making him grin at her reaction. “Your costume choice is rather stunning as well.”

"Holy sweet Jesus, his voice." She had the thought that he could read her the period table of elements and she'd still listen without complaint. Lucy blushed and stepped in a little closer to him, reaching out and running her hand slowly and deliberately down his exposed forearm, “Why don’t we go get a drink and chat, maybe get to know each other before I inevitably drag you out of here with me?”

He chuckled darkly. She was wonderfully brazen. Perhaps he could find all the information that Salacia had needed from her. There was some distant part of his mind telling him that he was lying to himself and not to allow himself to get distracted by the slip of a woman, but that part was being loudly drowned out by the warmth of her body now very close to him and the sound of her sultry laughter.

The two of them talked for a while, Vater finding out absolutely nothing that Salacia needed and forgetting about the mission entirely after about two minutes of being in her presence.

When she finally officially invited him back to her room, Lucy raised a playful eyebrow at him, “What’s the chance you swing both ways?”

He looked at her inquisitively, and then saw her look over at Pickles, following her gaze. The Drummer was in rare form tonight, the man cleaned up well. It certainly wouldn’t be Vater’s first time with a man. There was a predatory smile on his face that made Lucy’s pupils dilate and her body shiver. From across the room, Pickles glanced up at the two of them, and seeing the look on the tall man’s face it was a wonder that he didn’t bolt across the room at them.

Pickles had a cocky smirk on his face as he approached them, walking straight up to Vater with an unholy amount of confidence, “Well, hey d’ere, tall, dark, an’ dangerous. Yah ready fer a little Double Trouble?”

There was a dark little chuckle that had Lucy and Pickles weak in the knees as the three of them walked out, one of them to each of his arms, barely making it to Lucy’s room and not coming out until sometime the next afternoon. Lucy and Pickles practically limped down to the kitchen, using each other to keep themselves upright, grinning like idiots, and Vater left with two phone numbers and very insistent “call me’s” and “get home safe’s” from the two of them.

~~~~~

When Vater arrived back at the bunker, he went immediately to see Salacia, knowing that he was hours late for the previously planned private debriefing. He was still in costume and looked as though he had got no sleep.

“What did you manage to find out?” Salacia asked him, already having the needling feeling that the mission had been a failure.

Vater looked at him, wondering if he could bullshit his way through the fact that the mission itself had failed before it started. “I was able to determine that the band can be… very persuasive… when they want to be Master.” He kept the fact that he now had two of their phone numbers to himself.

Salacia eyed the love bites on his servant’s neck and scowled.

Bonus vibe:

#kloktober2023 #kloktober 2023 #vater orlaag #pickles the drummer #lucy skye desmond #the wickerman mtl #the wicker man mtl #metalocalypse oc #mtl oc #metalocalypse

[a-musing-mixologist]

as dark as the recent time seems to have been, pirates know to celebrate whenever their adventures are a success and celebration is eventually taken from sharing it with everyone on deck underneath it, candles in odd shapes still lightening the captain's bed chambers. the air is filled by the scent of boze and herbs, the sound of glass clicking gently as golden liquid are poured again. it all feel so light that law decides tonight might be a good time for a somewhat agreed on gift. thsi time, without any mock or tease.

as he watches the other two men being focused on their conversation, he moves to pull out the corset he made with so much focus and passion for a particular redhead some time ago, by now having added a few smaller details just to add to the pirate's style further. he wrapped it in a black satin fabric, walking overcasually to take place to kid's right again, leading to the youngest being centered between the two man. inked fingers bend dark spikes back before adjusting the collar of his tanktop, casually dropping it on kid's chest.

"a gift, i've made it myself but consider it from the both of us. we think you would look quite good in it. no tease this time, maybe just a somewhat selfish desire of ours to encourage you to try out something different when it comes to your wardrobe here and then." his voice is smooth like honey, drink brought back to his lips as he gives killer a short knowing gaze before relaxing back into soft pillows of the seats.

Taking another swig of ale, he laughs easily. They'd taken down a rather powerful group of Marines and sent their vessel to the bottom of the sea. It had actually been quite some time since they'd had a real naval battle, and the Victoria proved she was still a force to be reckoned with as they sailed further and further into the New World. "Huh?" He sets his mug down, quirking a brow at his boyfriend as Law plops something down on him.

It has a bit of weight to it, much heavier than Law's last... present. "Selfish desires, hmm?" Gold hues fix on the surgeon before flicking to his partner, who only grins. Both of them, is it? He's probably in trouble, as if the sticky-sweet tone of Law's voice wasn't proof enough. Pale fingers toy with the soft material, and he can feel two sets of eyes on him. Bastards. Licking his lips he unwraps the parcel, finding a well-crafted leather corset in his trademark colors, complete with curling flame motifs.

Killer leans against him, beard tickling against his neck. "We thought it'd look good on ya," he purrs, muscled arms slipping around him. "Law put quite a bit o' effort into it, as ya can see." Sapphire gaze meets gold as Killer smirks at the surgeon around his redhead. "I can help ya get into it, if ya want."

He doesn't actually need very much convincing for this particular accessory, in fact he fancies it, and it's only the way the two are staring at him that causes a faint heat to color his cheeks. He rises to his feet with a growl, extracting himself from Killer's arms. "Fine! I've been meaning to change things up a bit." He sheds the feathered coat, black vest, and waist wrap, allowing the blond to assist him with the new piece. It fits perfectly around his muscular torso, tight-fitting without restraining his movement while very much accenting his chest. Not something he has a problem with.

"Fits amazing. Thanks for your 'selfishness', dear heart." His gaze fixes on Law. Of course he'd have gotten his measurements somehow, he knows how much the surgeon enjoys studying him. "So what do you think?" He smirks, striking a pose. "This what you imagined?"

#🌷Answered || Kid #herztakt #🌷🐯Magnetic Heart #hehehe

[iamnot-theboynextdoor]

OFMD EP1 REACTION

i already know this is a dream sequence but opening on stede and izzy having a badass swordfight is dope

stede's fantasy is all about him looking and sounding super masc... babyboy that's not you...

HE FUCKING STABBED IZZY. HE KILLED HIM

and of course izzy's last words are "you absolute twaaaaaaaaaat" i'm fucking dying

AND THERE'S THE SLOMO BAYWATCH RUN GOD I LOVE IT

"knew you'd find me babe" and of course ed's got his beautiful beard back and he looks perfect and he loves stede's beard sfjgdskjgdshj stede

aaaaaaand f in the chat for stede's dream sequence, wee john is doing chemical warfare

"can't be worse than you moaning 'ed, oh, ed' all night long" f in the chat for black pete and the rest of the crew

AHAHAHA roach going "he's single" and shoving the swede at jackie. c'mon swede be a hobosexual for us we gotta sleep somewhere

"come closer. spanish jackie don't bite. i lied, i bite" and he giggles i am immediately on board congrats jackie on your 21st husband

love olu's fancy bartender waistcoat!

"i'll buy you a drink" this guy! the guy who's practically stede's twin! in the disco outfit that stede steals! is he the guy stede does a punch on? is he hitting on stede? oh my GOD where is this going

"richard banes. are you stede bonnet?" dear lord this guy could not have a posher accent. is he the guy who ends up with a fake nose. he's an undercover cop isn't he. how else does he know who stede is

awww fuck we're cutting to ed. shit's about to go down

(stede) "hope you're thinking of me as well" close-up on ed's TRUST NO-ONE tattoo. fuuuuuuuuck

and immediately the wedding ed's gonna crash is like some extremely classist/"we must breed more upper class, worthy humans" shit, so ed can do a little murder actually i immediately don't feel bad for them

"objection" ed can board a ship without anyone fucking noticing if it looks cool actually

THERE HE IS he's made everyone put on the emo paint. i keep pausing and rewatching this part. love izzy's sarcastic little smile

jim looks so fucking sexy

so does frenchie tbh

ed's just eating the cake. cake topper my beloved...

OH NO IVAN DIED. OFF-SCREEN. F IN THE CHAT. and frenchie only cares about the cake JUST KIDDING HE IS HARDCORE DISSOCIATING. poor fang tho...

stede taking down blackbeard's wanted poster... does he have a little shrine in the pig sty he's sleeping in. does he draw hearts on the posters

"he's just blowing off some steam" stede has decided the atrocities are cool and fun actually. atrocities are okay if the man doing them has big beautiful brown eyes too. what about it

"i also killed someone and stole their kiosk. sometimes action is better than vision" can we get sue on the crew? "that's what i've been telling him" "that's 'cause you're the smart one" sue confirms that olu is the only crewmember with a brain cell

'we can't turn up with any old ship, we need to look good" STEDE. FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD.

ed putting the little cake topper in his breast pocket next to his heart i'm going feral

"did everyone get cake?" "yeah they got cake"

ed is doing drugs and izzy has never looked more miserable and soggy. he looks like someone dunked him in an inkwell

OH HERE'S THE SCENE. THE SAD WET MEOW MEOW SCENE

shit's gotta be really bad if izzy needs to be rocked and cuddled while he cries... babyboy you should have just let ed hold the talent show...

i am not at all surprised that jackie's taking all of stede and co.'s savings. this is jackie's house. jackie does not have a tip jar. you're in the republic of pirates hide it better next time

BOO CAKES!

well you didn't even get jackie and the swede a wedding present. this is her wedding present. HIDE THE JAR BETTER-

"what if we took that back?" "i think my husbands would have a problem with that. have you met all twenty of 'em?" PAUSING TO LOOK AT THE HUSBANDS.

"that's a lot of husbands" black pete misses his husband, tails. he misses him a lot

love the one wearing no shirt and a tight waistcoat/corset thing with the axe. one's got cool glasses. two of them are either super twinky or lady-husbands, excellent either way (jackie and her lady-husbands, nandor and his guy-wives... beautiful...)

EDIT: THE TWO HUSBANDS ARE TRANS GUYS HELL YEAH HELL YEAH

"i know that guy we had breakfast together" "you will be having a lot of breakfasts-es together" "oh ok" sometimes a family is a pirate businesswoman and her 20 19 18 20 husbands and we stan

maybe the sexy axe husband cooked the breakfast. i am delighting in imagining them being all cute and domestic until jackie needs them to stand around and look intimidating and then they all scramble into position. their job is to cook breakfast and look sexy and scare the shit out of anyone jackie points them at

i like to imagine that as soon as one of jackie's husbands died she's like fuck i gotta get a new one to make up the numbers. my brand is 20 husbands i can't be seen with only 19. who's new in town that is remotely attractive. ooh, swedish blondie with a metal tooth, he'll look nice next to the one in glasses

anyway stede and co. are now homeless rip

why does roach have buttons on a rope leash sfhdskjghsgk is buttons so desperate to return to his true love (the sea) that they have to treat him like a toddler trying to run into traffic

"dear ed, i think i'm afraid to see you. i'm not afraid you're gonna kill me, i'm afraid your life is better without me!" I AM GOING TO LOSE IT. SOMEONE GET THIS POOR BOY SOME SELF-ESTEEM

i paused on the wanted poster and it said "wanted for theft brigandry larceny arson tax evasion" sgkjhsfgkjsfhgk the fucking IRS is going to find ed before stede does

"could be. could be, mate" stede your ed impression sucks shit

oh god richard's there. are you a cop or just a fan.

"the gentleman pirate saved my life! quite frankly, you're my hero!" with his fancy fucking coat oh god stede has a fan. stede has a copycat fan. AND STEDE'S NOW HAPPY OH MY GOD I AM HITTING HIM WITH A HAMMER (affectionate)

he fed stede a line about jackie's roman puzzle chest... i don't fucking trust this guy i'm convinced he's either a navy plant or a husband plant...

(if he is truly just a baby stede i'm putting him in a jar and shaking him (affectionate))

I FUCKING LOVE THE SWEDE

oh god back to ed's depression den

"not good enough. and that's another toe. take your boot off." okay ed, i know you're trying to get izzy or anybody to kill you in your sleep or something but i'm still. noooo don't commit atrocities you're soo sexy aha

"who am i to you" oh god. shit's gotta be really really fucking bad if izzy's doing emotional intimacy

"i have... love for you, edward" i'm going to explode

first of all izzy is delusional if he thinks he knows ed better than anyone else - we know and love this about him

second, con's fucking acting is going to kill me. he's looking at the floor, there are tears in his eyes, he's whispering and pauses as if saying the word love is going to kill him (and it's not just the emotional repression considering how volatile ed is)

and the way the line is written - it's not "i love you" or "i'm in love with you", it's not a thing izzy does or is, it's a thing he has. an object he's carrying around, separate to him, he's trying to distance himself from it.

and of course ed interrupts him with "oh come on" because he does not trust that anyone actually loves him and he doesn't want anyone to any more, he wants izzy to hate him and kill him!

"i'm worried about you, we all are. the atmosphere on this ship is completely poisoned. but if we could all just maybe... talk it through" SHIT'S GOT TO BE REALLY REALLY UNQUESTIONABLY HORRIFICALLY FUCKING BAD IF IZZY IS ADOPTING STEDE'S CATCHPHRASE

ed, ominously "as a crew" as blackbeard's leitmotif starts up... WORST CHOICE OF WORDS EVER IZZY I'M TERRIFIED

izzy: i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up

POOR FANG IS WHIMPERING ED DON'T SCARE HIM!!!!!

"i know who we should ask, ol' blackbeard!" (shoves gun under his own chin) jesus christ ed

"FUCKING END!" izzy has had ENOUGH

AND AS SOON AS HE SAYS STEDE'S NAME ED SHOOTS HIM

"frenchie, you are now first mate" STEPS OVER IZZY GROANING IN PAIN

i am very worried

HARD CUT TO THE SWEDE AND JACKIE LMAO

oh god stede's adopted ricky. this can only end terribly

aaaaaand f in the chat for ricky's nose

"i can't believe you guys robbed jackie! so bad!" swede.

jackie looks gorgeous though

SUE IS OF COURSE THE BADASS PIRATE QUEEN

and jackie loves her a sexy swedish double-crosser

thank you sue for adopting the gang of idiots

OH GOD JIM AND ARCHIE MOPPING UP IZZY'S BLOOD. THAT'S A LOT OF BLOOD

poor fang is still crying

awwww and jim's telling him pinocchio to calm him down! (but they suck at telling stories)

"do the voice"

and jim does the fucking voice

ed sounds like he's holding back tears as he describes sailing and robbing and never landing

"fuck you, stede bonnet" "good night, ed teach" HHHHHHH

stede come on man pick up a fucking oar you're not the captain any more

at least we got one romantic reunion! and it was buttons and the ocean <3

sdkfjhsdkjgsdk everyone being like "are we soup merchants now? sweet" and olu with his poor overworked brain cell like "hang on... there's no soup here"

ZHENG YI SAO FUCK YEAH BAY BEE

AFTER CREDITS SEQUENCE!!! storytime with jim extended edition!!!!!

#our flag means death #ofmd

[loominggaia]

Físicamente, que es lo más atractivo de los líderes mundiales? (En sentido normal y en el otro sentido si entiendes a lo que me refiero)

(Translated via Google Translate)

"Physically, what is the most attractive thing about world leaders? (In the normal sense and in the other sense if you understand what I mean)"

Now that's an interesting question! They're all such assholes, it's fun to search out their positive traits. These are all physical features, and of course beauty is subjective, so these are just my personal opinions...

Gultopp Folkvar: He's in good shape for his age. I mean, aside from missing a bunch of body parts...the parts he still has are well muscled and he still exercises regularly. If all the world leaders got into a physical brawl, Gultopp would whip everyone's ass.

Marghan Matuzu: He's got youth and good looks. His mom is gorgeous and his dad was probably a looker before he got sick too, so Marghan has genetics on his side. He has big, dark eyes and a sharp nose which I think are nice features. He plays sports so he's in pretty good shape too.

Chua Lamai: How to judge the beauty of a gorgon? Especially a medusa! Overall I think Chua just looks really cool, like in a badass intimidating way. Also they have a giant dumptruck ass, and who doesn't appreciate a big butt?

Roz Yerim-Mor: The man looks like an old, worn-out leather bag now...but in his youth, he probably looked a lot like his son Jaq, and we all know what a chad Jaq is. 👀 Though Roz's prime years are far behind him, he still carries kindness and tenderness in his eyes. You look at his face and feel a sense of warmth, like he really does care about you and all living things.

...Also he has a colossal dick. Just sayin'.

Qara Zareen: It's hard to say how attractive Qara really is because she is so fake. She dyes her hair and beard, has butt and breast implants, wears fake eyelashes, has skin treatments, cosmetic surgery on her face, makeup tattooed on, etc. I think her natural appearance is probably quite ugly, but she has turned herself into a dworfen beauty queen with her money.

Indiga Evangeline: Indiga is another one who's hard to judge because like Qara, she hides her true appearance behind fakeness. She's had no cosmetic surgery, but she does wear extremely tight corsets to shape her body and cakes on pounds of makeup. She would look very different without these things. In her youth she had an elegant kind of beauty like her daughter Cerulea.

Oberon Mogdir: To us humans, this guy looks pretty unsettling with his tall skinny body, cloven hooves, and a face that looks like a creepy clown mask. But fauns happen to find all these things attractive, and a big chunk of Oberon's votes came from horny faunish housewives thirsting over him, so...you know. I do think he has youthful skin and nice cheekbones. He also still has a full head of thick hair for his age, but who knows, that could be a wig or extensions or some shit. His personality is so fake, I wouldn't be surprised if his appearance was too. He probably dipped over to Zareen Empire for cosmetic surgery more than once...

Hethor Etios: She's big, she's burly, and even though she's old, she looks like she can still beat your ass. What more could you want in a woman? And there's no way around it: she has massive boobs, which minotaurs go crazy for. Hethor is udderly beautiful! ...For a geriatric minotaur, that is.

Titania of the Seelie: She's a stunner in every physical sense, if only she didn't look so sad all the time. She is short and petite with flowing snow-white hair and delicate facial features, and these are all things the Seelie people find beautiful. It's said that Morgause and Reaper are the only people alive who have seen her smile, and when she does, her beauty takes one's breath away.

Morgause of the Unseelie: If you threw Morgause down a well, the chemicals in her hair would poison a whole town. But hey, that's the price you pay to have amazing hair like hers! She teases it big and high like an 80s glamrock star, and you'd be hard pressed to find anyone in the Unseelie Court with hair more magnificent than hers. She also has a goth aesthetic which always wins points with me.

Serafeen of Damijana: It's hard to say what she looks like under those shapeless robes, giant headdress, and thick makeup. But we can see that she has really intense eyes. Rumor has it that she can stop someone's heart just by glaring at them...but in reality, I think her victims are just having heart attacks because they fear her power. If Serafeen glares at you, it means she's not happy, and if she's not happy, the Damijana Guard will be kicking down your door in about--aaaand they're here.

Sovereign of Aquaria: I just can't find anything physically attractive about this guy. I'm sorry. He's a scowling, fish-faced, blobby old fuck. I know, I know, he and Mr. Ocean are basically twins...but attitude makes a big difference, and at least Mr. Ocean has kindness in his eyes and an endearing doofy-ness about him. Sovereign just looks mean. You can tell what a ruthless bastard he is just by the look on his face and the way he carries himself. He obviously doesn't take care of his body or his soul. All he seems to care about is quenching his thirst for power.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

#ask #askpolitics #askliterature

[roonyxx]

Stolen Crown Chapter 10: Without the Fur

By @jay-and-dean and @roonyxx

Pairings : Dean x reader ? Kight!Dean x reader ?

Summary :  What happens when she is sent in a world that isn’t hers, but with very familiar faces ?

This, as much as it looks like it, is not ‘technically’ an AU, because your Dean, our Dean, exists too…

Serie Warnings : Smut (please be 18+), Fluff, Angst, Swearing. Mention of physical pain. Each Chapter will have detailed warnings.

Chapter warnings :

Chapter Word count : 4519

Note : This is a collaboration between both of us. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like for Firefly.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

Text divider by the awesome @talesmaniac89​

Stolen Crown Masterlist

Want to read more:

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

She didn’t miss those corsets, she didn’t miss the heavy layers of skirts, nor the weight of the crown on her head. 

Yet, she had missed something about being the Queen, she has to admit it. She doesn’t exactly know what she missed so much, but maybe just the ease of it. 

Her chin is up, her back is straight, like the knight taught her. And what seemed hard at first, during his lessons, now feels like the most natural posture. She isn’t playing the Queen’s part, she is a Queen. Her eyes pierce everything like nothing could escape her vigilance. She is on top of the world, even if she is also carrying it. 

Watch her power, men.

“Son of a bitch that cape is itchy” Dean grunts next to her. 

She turns her head and her eyes fall on the love of her life, dressed like her lover. Dean wearing the knight’s clothes is a sight she will never forget. 

His perfect face in this mane of grey fur makes him look like a God, his broad shoulders under the thick clothes, the appearing beard on his cheeks. Never had Dean looked so tall, so strong, never had he looked so manly. And her heart is struggling to keep its proud rhythm.

He wears them even better than their owner, because he is Dean Winchester, the only true Dean, the one that saved the world. 

“Too bad you don’t have the same passion for knights that you have for cowboys” she states without changing anything about her royal posture, so that people that would watch them from afar wouldn’t guess one second that she is not her Majesty. 

“Wow” Dean frowns. “It’s creepy how you can just turn to her.

“I have practice” she says low. “Now Dean, you will have to turn into him. For the sake of everyone. Do you remember what he told you ?”

“Yeah, treat you like you’re sacred, that should be easy” he winks with a little smile. “No eye contact, no talking, no smiling without permission… Basically I act like one of those sub men that pay to get insulted” he chuckles, almost making her crack her acting.

“Do that” she smiles slightly. “And don’t stare at Sam.”

“I’ll try” he nods. 

A member of the Council walks by and Dean immediately straightens. She can then suddenly see the time the two versions of Dean spent together while gathering the ingredients for the spell. The knight, as usual, did an amazing job.

By the time the heavy doors of the Council room open, Dean almost melted completely into his doppleganger’s shape.

He walks with prestance but humility like only the knight usually can. She sits on the throne and he manages to keep his eyes before him, and his hands join before him while the people of the assembly sit in silence.

More than ever, she struggles to not turn her head toward him, because the aura of his presence is a million times stronger than the knight’s. His attraction is like the sun… But she can’t give in to the distraction, because Sam came to see her not long before the Council and the situation is very serious now. 

The Queen, oblivious to what is happening, left the castle this morning to enjoy some time with the man she loves… And it was exactly the plan, until the order of the day came…

Sir Sam Winchester gets up and clears his throat, adjusting his grey robe, making Dean imperceptibly move next to her.

“Your Highness” he starts. “During our last visit to the Men of Letters Tower, you required that we write a new law” a trail of murmur goes through the Council. “I am honored to tell you that the said law is written, compatible with the rest of our sacred code, your Majesty, and ready to be submitted to the Council’s vote.”

“A law ?” one of the Noble’s Head gets up. “We are not aware of such a law !”

“Sir Winchester” she says calmly. “Am I Obliged to the Council before I submit the vote ?”

“No, your Majesty” her loyal counselor answers. “Your Highness can submit laws to the vote whenever you feel like it is necessary. The Men of Letters have to write it and compare it one by one to every other law within nineteen days, to be sure it is not against a law already existing. After that, the Council is summoned to vote on it. Each Head has a vote, the Heart also has one” he turns his head to the three peasants at the end of the table. “As usual your Hand cannot vote, your Majesty. You will have the last word, unless every vote is against your law.”

Her heart is pounding. 

She has no idea what the Queen asked, her doppelganger didn’t say a word about it, maybe she really didn’t think the law would be ready for today.

“May you read the law for the assembly” she orders. 

The Men of Letters Head clears his throat again and starts. 

“The present law stipulates that marriage cannot change any right to the royalty that was obtained by birth and thus, by God. 

Therefore, and independently of the Crown’s sex, marriage does not split or move the Crown, that will remain on the King, or Queen’s head, unshared. 

Marriage can consequently be made out of Royalty, with any gentleman, or woman the Crown and the Council approves at the simple condition that they renounce any royal power other than the sacred right to conceive and raise the rightful heir.”

Silence. 

She is holding her breath. 

The Queen intends to marry the man she loves, she knew that the Council would never give the Crown to the knight that was sentenced to death, to the knight that grew up in the streets… And now is the moment when it is made possible or impossible, forever. 

“You cannot be serious, your Majesty !” the Noble’s Head gets up. “This is an insult to tradition !”

“And any sex” the Head of religious grunts. “I know your feminine nature makes you sensible to your kind’s destiny, your Highness, but you need a husband ! And we need a King !”

“You shall have a King” she answers, hiding the trembling of her voice. “And you shall have the heir you are longing for, the heir that the Kingdom needs to maintain peace. On the condition that I can choose his father.”

“Here is what happens when you give power to women ! They do not think with their head !” a religious shoulder loses his temper, making the audience gasp. 

“Sir Winchester” she states. “Will you make that man leave the room ?”

Dean nods and walks to the man that doesn’t protest at all. He insulted the Queen, he could be severely punished for that.

“Your Majesty” the religious Head bows. “My brother did not mean to disresp-”

She raises her hand, making him stop.

“The Kingdom never thrived like it did since I am at its head” she speaks. “I intend to keep my efforts for the good of my People. You all know how devoted I am, would you want a strange Prince taking the powers from me, now ? Think of my law, be wise. I shall be wise when I decide on your brother’s punishment.”

“We will proceed to the vote” Sir Sam Winchester states, his tall charismatic shape inviting the Council to stay calm. 

“As the law stipulates I will let the honorable Council debate the law for a full hour before the vote” she says while getting up, making the whole room bow.

“Sir Winchester shouldn’t be part of this Council” the religious Head suddenly talks, his grey eyes piercing under his grey eyebrows. “Not a soul here is unaware of your Majesty’s will to make him a King” murmurs go through the stone room again, because no one has ever pointed this fact out loud. “Does your Highness not think that voting against your law in presence of our eventual future King is influencing the vote ?”

“Fine” Y/n sighs, making the murmurs double when she doesn’t object to her plans to marry Dean. “Sir Dean Winchester will not be invited…”

“Y/n” Dean scratches his growing scruff, obviously annoying him. “That was… It felt…”

“I know” she nods, still in her Queen outfit, in the little knight’s room. “It feels real. Like it’s us.”

“It does” he admits, sitting on the bed, pushing the huge fur coat off of his broad shoulders in this white shirt that highlights his body so well. “I’m actually super stressed to know if I… he can marry you. I mean the Queen.”

He looks at her intensely for a moment and hesitates before he talks. 

“You’re not jealous ?” he asks, looking down, pretending to be fixing one of the lace of his leather shoes. 

“Jealous ?”

“Yeah your prince charming will marry her” he shrugs. 

She chuckles a little and sits next to her best friend, bumping his shoulder softly.

“You know I’m not into the Knight that much, right ? He just has pretty good looks” she jokes with a kind smile dissimulating the truth in her heart. 

“Yeah…” 

“Would you ? Marry the Queen if you were him ?” she asks, taking his hand to play with that ring the knight gave him with the clothes. “Even with those conditions.”

“In a heartbeat” he nods. “Sleeping close to… her, it is enough in this kind of love.”

She opens her mouth once or twice, trying to find the words that could fit this moment, but before she comes with anything, the door opening interrupts them.

Her hand doesn’t let Dean’s fingers go when the real Queen and her beloved knight enter the room.

For a second, the Queen stares at where hers and Dean’s body touch, at their relaxed position on the edge of the bed, then she clears her throat, obviously fluttered by their simple yet forbidden proximity.

“You should be the one going to the other half of the Council” Y/n tells with a hint of excitement.

“Other half ?” the Queen frowns. “The Council is never in two pa-” she freezes. “The law” she understands suddenly, turning on herself to try and keep some composure, panic showing through her prestance. “I should have been here !”

“Are they discussing a law ?” the knight asks, earning a simple nod from his double. 

“H-how is it going ?” the Queen anxiously asks. 

“Not bad” Y/n answers. “Sam is on our side.”

“Of course” her Majesty nods. 

“Noble Head against us” she continues. “The Heart should be on our side, they love Sir Winchester, he is from the People. The religious don’t like the part about the Queen keeping all powers, they are misogynist douches, but they want an heir…”

“My Queen, with all due respect, if this law is about me like it seems to be, I should know what it is about” the knight bows, making the Queen blush slightly.

“You didn’t tell him” Dean chuckles, raising his eyebrows. “Well that’s awkward.”

“Shut up Dean !” Y/n grunts, putting her ear on the door between the secret little room and the Queen’s bedroom. 

The Majesty had kindly asked for Y/n and Dean to leave the room so they could talk in privacy.

“Hey if you want to know if the law is voted, ask them !” he slips his massive body next to hers.

“I can’t ! If they said no, her heart would be broken. But she will tell him, just shut your mouth Winchester !”

When the bedroom’s main door makes noise, they both fall perfectly silent, Dean obviously as invested as her. 

“My Queen” the knight, who was waiting in the bedroom alone, speaks first. “I do not like you going to a Council without me. Those men are ruthless.”

“You are supposed to protect me from physical attacks, Sir, not political ones” the Queen audibly smiles. 

“If I could, I would shield you from every pain and inconvenience of life, your Majesty.”

Y/n smiles in awe, making Dean exaggeratedly roll his eyes, failing to hide the emotions going through him.

“I know” her royal double sighs. “Dean… Can I call you Dean ?”

“You know you can” the knight answers right away.

“Dean…” the Queen continues, anxiety piercing in her voice for the very first time, making the two spies swallow and hold their breath. “You know without any doubt, I hope, that my affection for you is beyond my functions… And you are aware of my will to keep the king throne unoccupied but…”

“I know, my Queen” the knight answers when she can’t manage to reach the end of her words. “My life is yours, and I truly hope you believe that none of my ambition is for the throne.”

“I trust that will all my heart. That is why, today, I submitted a law to the Council.”

“My Queen, you still have stayed silent on the nature of this law everyone knows about but me…”

“I know, I could not resolve to talk about it before the Council approved it” the Queen states, making Y/n grunt in frustration, and Dean takes her hand.

“Did the Council do ?” the knight asks in a soft voice.

“They did.”

Y/n jumps in silence and suddenly feels Dean’s lips come to her forehead in a celebration kiss. 

“It is a law, Dean” the Queen says with a trembling voice that suddenly makes her sound as vulnerable as a teen in love. “That allows me to marry any man I want, and not only a Prince or a Duke, in condition that the Throne stays commended by me. The future King will be the father of the Heirs, and wear a Crown with all the honors, but stay out of the Political power…”

A silence falls on the bedroom, leaving Dean and Y/n on their tiptoes, eaten alive by the need to know more.

“This is a life-changing law” the knight finally speaks. 

“Some men would find it insulting, some men could not renounce to the power.”

 “Only fools would not be fulfilled by it” the knight states. 

“Are you a fool, Sir Winchester ?” the Queen almost murmurs. 

“No, my Queen.”

“Dean, in my heart, you deserve to be a King, but the Council will not let you rule…” she sighs. 

“Perfect” he says in a deep, nervous voice. “Because the only ambition I have is for your heart… Your… Majesty.”

Dean’s hand comes to rub Y/n’s back, and, pushed by the simple bliss of that moment of happiness, she snuggles in his arms. 

She looks up at the handsome hunter, at his beautiful green eyes. His face is inching closer to hers, standing up on her tiptoes she looks at his plumb lips, their breaths are mingling and she can feel the heat of his body seeping through the many layers of clothing. 

“Eavesdropping is considered to be very rude” the Royal voice interrupts their little moment of intimacy and they jump apart, both their cheeks heated from feeling caught.

“We didn’t mean too” Y/n apologies.

“Yeah, sorry” the hunter’s gruff voice sounds from beside her. 

She can see his head turning to look through the Queen’s room. 

“Where’s mister roboto?” he asks.

“Excuse me?” the Queen frowns, looking at him like she must have done so often during her time in Y/’s world.

“He means Dean, your knight” Y/n clarifies for her.

“Sir Winchester had matters to attend too” 

Y/n doesn’t miss the slight uncertainty in the Queen’s voice. Did the knight run? Maybe he simply needs some air after finally hearing that he can be with his one true love.

“He will return” Y/n tells her with a sweet reassuring smile.

Dean walks into the room with a grin, sitting down on the luxury couch in the room. Y/n follows him and sits next to him and watches as the Queen takes place opposite them with those gracious manners of hers.

“Are you happy that you told him?” Y/n asks her.

“In a way, yes. I feel lighter now that I do not have to hide my affection for him anymore.” 

“Oh yeah ! He certainly had a hard time hiding it too” Dean chuckles.

“Had he ?” the Queen looks with curiosity towards Dean.

Dean nods, a mischievous move of his eyebrows making her Majesty blush a little.

“I really should not think of him in this way” she looks down at her hands placed in her lap.

“You love him” Dean states “It’s normal you think of him.”

“But I have never…” she hesitates, used to the idea of not even talking about it. But seeing Y/n and Dean’s supportive looks, she lets go. “Been with a man” she sighs, her breath slightly trembling.

“You are afraid ?” Y/n doesn’t really mean to ask, she knows she is. 

She knows her own body language, no matter how hard she hides behind the mask of the fierce leader.

“I am…” she looks up at the two modern people. “What if my ignorance made me do things that are inappropriate or not consistent to the whole procedure ? What if I  hate it and find it repugnant or degrading ?”

“Oh your Majesty” Dean sighs at her fear. “You don’t need to know much, and he will guide you. I don’t think you will hate it, making love is… Between you, it’s not just sex, and that changes everything. The way he looks at you, like you are his whole world. You are.. everything he dreams off and more” he clarifies for her.

Y/n turns her head towards the freckled man beside her and catches him looking at her. Why did it sound like he was talking about more than just the knight’s thoughts ? Was he able to read his double’s mind like she was able to read the Queen’s ?

A shiver goes through her and she looks down, afraid that he might read inside her craving heart.

“But I do not know how to…” the Queen’s voice breaks the tense moment between the two hunters.

“How to what ?” Y/n asks.

“How to … satisfy his needs” her voice is very quiet and a deep blush rises on her cheeks.

“You will learn to do so. You will talk and take it slow. He is a very patient man, your majesty” Y/n tells her with a smile. “And it is not about his needs, it is about yours too, about you being together in this, enjoying each other. This is not a performance.” 

“Yes he is” she looks at Y/n “Does it hurt ?”

“Hurt ?” Y/n frowns.

“Being with a man… the first time? I have heard horrible things” the Queen explains.

“Oh, that first time. Yes, it can hurt… and you might bleed but it is normal and it will get better with time.” Y/n reassures her. “But nothing the knight can make easier with care and softness. What you heard… Sadly men can be brutal. Dean would never be.”

“He will sure go slow and be gentle” Dean replies. “He’s annoying but he’s a gentleman.”

The Queen quietly nods, this subject obviously making her very uncomfortable.

“I do not understand how you can talk so freely of these sins” she remarks.

“In our world they are not seen as sins, not anymore” Y/N explains. “And not talking about it doesn’t erase it, it just makes it” she shrugs. “Strange, mostly for women.”

“Oh no, they are good times ! Very good times” Dean fills in enthusiastically.

“Yes… I have heard rumours about Sir Winchester…” the Queen starts “That he is very… experienced.”

Y/n didn’t miss the jealousy in her firm voice and a side eye towards her that made her look down.

“Well if he’s anything like me, he’s good’’ Dean says with a proud wink.

Y/n gives Dean a death glare and sighs loudly, her own jealousy increasing her irritation. She turns to the Queen and kindly puts her hand on hers.

“You shouldn’t worry about being experienced or not. He loves you, that’s all that matters, your Majesty” She gives her a sweet smile.

The Queen returns her smile and pats her hand, “Thank you” she looks at Dean too “Both of you for easing my worries” She stands up and brushes down her gown. “You must hide again. I have to see the Council and find Sir Winchester after” She walks to the hidden door and opens it for the two hunters to enter.

“Oh and, your Majesty ?” Y/n calls back before entering the knight’s room.

“Yes ?” 

“Show those men what women are made of” she says with a confidence she learned from the Queen.

“I will” she answers with a smile.

Y/n closes the door and smiles towards Dean.

“They will be so happy” she happily sighs.

“They will.” 

She stares at her Dean, his slightly shorter hair, how the white shirt allows for a little peak at his freckled chest. The dark pants that make his bow legs even sexier.

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes, sweetheart” he smirks.

She blushes, flustered as usual by his innuendos, ready to gently push his shoulder like she usually does. 

But that talk about sex, that gentle intimacy of trying to reassure a scared woman made her feel closer to him… Like maybe she could overcome her own fear.

“Maybe I am” she shrugs, looking at her feet.

“What ?” Dean freezes, obviously taken aback by her totally unusual reaction.

“I am” she confirms, daring to look up.

She steps closer to the hunter, trembling a little, hoping with all her heart that he won’t reject her. Her hand tugs at the flimsy cord of his white shirt, pulling it loose and slipping her hand under the fabric, she moans slightly as she feels his warm skin against the palm of her hand

Dean’s big hands rest on her hips, licking his lips and pulling her closer against him. That is certainly not the face of rejection.

“Are you thinking about sinful things, sweetheart?” The way her nickname rolls over his tongue makes her core clench around nothing.

“Maybe I am, depends” she reaches up on her tiptoes and starts to kiss his neck.

He angles his head back, giving her more room to work, his hands slipping down over the round apples of her butt, giving them a firm squeeze.

“On what ?” he nearly growls.

“Whether you’re thinking the same way?” she looks up at him, giving him an innocent smile and bashing her eyelids.

That was apparently all he needed. 

His hands slip down her butt to grasp her thighs. Lifting her up and putting her down on one of the dressers in the room. With an eagerness she has never witnessed before from the hunter, he claims her lips in a sensual kiss.

Her hands start working on removing the many thick layers that cover her lover. Hastily tugging at cords and pushing buttons. When the last vest falls to the floor and he takes off the thin white shirt, she moans at the sight of his freckled skin. 

Her hands explore every scar and bump while his lips seal around her pulse point to start sucking. His body looks like the knight’s body, yet some scars are missing, and his back is soft. 

She bends to kiss the tattoo that reminds her that this is him, for real this time.

With his breath hot on her skin he wraps his arms around her, pushing his fingers in the seam on the back of her dress and successfully ripping all the layers apart and tugging the fabric off of her body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Y/n” he pants into her mouth. “I need you. Need to be inside you” 

“Y-yes Dean… fuck please, take me” her fingers tug at the short strands of hair on the back of his head.

With a loud metal clang his heavy belt falls down, quickly followed by his pants. She licks her lips and wraps her fingers around his impressive length. Slowly pumping him.

“So hard… so big” she mewls against his lips.

He groans at her touch. His fingers sinking into her thighs and tugging her closer to the edge of the dresses. He swaps her hand away and puts his cock at her entrance.

His green eyes dive into her as he pushes inside in one hard thrust, immediately bottoming out.

“Grah!” he growls, placing his hands on her hips once again, his breath burning her face.

She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer to kiss him, her tongue moving with his in a sensual dance.

He doesn’t wait a second more, and starts a rapid pace inside her, hitting all the good spots deep inside her. 

His ease, his confidence and his roughness remind her with each and every deadly precise trust, that the man taking her is not the knight, he is Dean. The Dean Winchester. Her Dean…

“F-Feel so good sweetheart” his face is hidden in her neck, panting against her skin.

Her legs wrap around him. Using her feet on his bare ass to push him even deeper, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“S-so fucking good Dean” she moans in his ear, slightly biting the shell of it.

“Y-You gotta be quiet sweetheart, can’t let the entire castle know how well you take my cock” his voice is so deep she can feel the vibrations through his bare chest.

His hand lets go of her thigh to cup her boob, slightly lifting it closer to his mouth to suck on her nipple.

“F-Fuck D-Dean” her walls are clenching around his cock and the room is filled with the noises of her wet pussy being filled over and over by him.

“I-I’m c-close” she moans, her hands holding onto his shoulders.

“Come for me baby, come on my cock” he growls right before crashing his lips on hers. 

Her pussy clamps down. Her thighs tremble around his waist as she keeps him deep inside her. He drinks the moans that fall from her lips to keep her silent. His hips jerk inside her, picking up speed to chase his own end.

“F-Fill me Dean” she whispers against his plumb lips.

With a final thrust at her words, he comes, giving her aching core the hot ropes of cum she begged for, grinding his pelvis into her clit. His nails dig into her waist, no doubt leaving marks.

“Grah Y/n… F-fuck yes” he moans, his head dropping onto her shoulder.

She holds him close as they both slowly come down from their high,panting and sweating. He lifts his head and looks up at her, smiling. 

She smiles back, in bliss, and in her blurry loving mind, she silently hopes that this wasn’t their last time.

#stolen crown #stolen crown chapter 10 #collab #jay and dean #knight!dean x queen!reader #knight!dean #queen!reader #roonyxx #dean winchester #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x reader #medieval fic #medieval spn fic #medieval #dean angst #angst #dean smut

[theycallme-thejackal]

🎩🦁🍾

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T

Part 1 | Part 2

"I'm not used to moving your zipper this direction."

She laughs, watching him in the mirror as he zips up her dress. "Unless you want everyone at the party to see the show corset, the dress has to be closed," she reasons.

"If Mort Sahl comes within five feet of your corset, I'll rip his overly tanned head off," Lenny grumbles.

Midge turns to him, slipping her arms around his neck and kissing him softly. "You know, I'm coming around to the beard," she admits with a smile.

Lenny's arms circle her waist. "Just thought I'd try it for a while. If you hate it, I'll shave."

She shrugs. "It's up to you." She moves her hands to adjust his tie, and he lifts his chin to give her better access.

"Hey, Midge?" He says quietly.

"Yes, Lenny?" She smooths her palms over his chest, and he tilts his head down to look at her.

"I'm really glad you're here," he breathes.

Midge smiles softly. "I'm really glad you asked me to be."

"There's no one else I'd want to kiss at midnight...I love you, Midge," he confesses, looking at her a little nervously.

Her smile widens, and she kisses him more deeply this time, pulling him close by the lapels of his tux. "I love you, too," she whispers as they part. "I love you very much, Lenny."

He nuzzles his face against her neck, and she fingers his curls gently as they embrace.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #writing prompt #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #answers

[nemesiscthonic]

3, 6, and 12 for the violent asks :3

3. Jesus, I am not sure the worst take I have ever seen. The worst take I ever saw was funny enough not fandom related, or the very least not my fandom. I have a friend who is HUGE into victorian stuff, she is a minor expert. She makes her own outfits, clothing, whole nine yards so she is knowledgeable on support garments of the time. Namely corsetry. A proper corset is comfy surprisingly! But everyone says she's wrong ALL THE DAMN TIME even though she has read and researched TONS ON THE DAMN TOPIC. Also people trying to make the Crimson Peak story sanitized...the Blue Beard plot line incest movie... is some how not... Its a screwed up story, embrace the fuck ups that are the characters. (Please watch Crimson Peak, I love Guillermo Del Toro)

6. Ranger/Mentor ship fans. Okay like yeah I write some weird shit but the Kira/Dr. O stuff makes me wanna hork like 80% of the time. I don't read it obviously, like write whatever the fuck you want but like, using Kira as a projection for Kimberly like wtf is wrong with you. Like it also degrades Kira as a character like Tommy couldn't get Kim so he's settling on his high school student who reminds him of her. This was a super popular ship back on Deviantart in the early 00s. And that was how it was described.

12. Zeltrax, because he's fucking hopeless, Ollie because man, I have been there, like yeah I get it, he wasn't the best written but some of the hate I see is extreme, Alpha because yes he's annoying but that robot went through some shit, Mack, he was one of the few OO characters that were pretty alright. The list goes on my friends

[skynetgilesbie]

Chapter 17.

Note from Chat GPT user: I hit regenerate to get this from the same prompt as Chapter 18.( Chapter 17???)

AN: Stop flaming the story! If you're a prep, then don't read it! You can tell whether you're a prep or not by taking my quiz on my homepage. If you're not, then you rock. If you are, then FOOOOOK UFFFFFFFFFF! P.S. Willow isn't really a prep. Raven, please do this, I'll promise to give you back your poster!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX666XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tom Riddle gave us some clothes and stuff for free. He said he would help us with makeup if he wanted, 'cause he was really into fashion and stuff (he's bisexual). Hagrid kept shooting at us to come back to Hogwarts. "WTF, Hagrid?" I shouted angrily. "Fuck off, you fucking bastard." Well anyway, Willow came. Hagrid went away angrily.

"Hey, bitch, you look kawaii," she said.

"Yeah, but not as kawaii as you," I answered sadly, 'cause Willow's really pretty and everything. She was wearing a short black corset-thingy with blood-red lace on it and a black blood-red miniskirt, leather fishnets, and black pointy boots that showed off how pale she was. She had a really nice body with big boobs and everything. She was thin enough to be anorexic.

"So, are you going to the concert with Draco?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said happily.

"I'm going with Diabolo," she answered happily. Well, anyway, Draco and Diabolo came. They were both looking extremely hot and sexy, and you could tell they thought we were too. Diabolo was wearing a black t-shirt that said '666' on it. He was wearing tons of makeup just like Marilyn Manson. Draco was wearing black leather pants, a gothic black GC t-shirt, and black Vans he got from the Warped Tower. B'loody Mary was going to the concert with Dracula. Dracula used to be called Navel, but it turned out that he was kidnapped at birth and his real family were vampires. They died in a car crash. Navel converted to Satanism, and he went goth. He was in Slytherin now. He was wearing a black Warped t-shirt, black jeans and shoes, and black hair with red streaks in it. We call him Dracula now. Well, anyway, we all went to Draco's black Mercedes-Benz (get it, 'cause we're goffik) that his dad Lucian gave him. We did pot, coke, and crack. Draco and I made out. We made fun of those stupid fucking preps. We soon got there... I gasped.

Gerard was the sexiest guy ever! He looked even sexier than he did in pics. He had long raven-black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was really skinny, and he had an amazing ethnic voice. We moshed to "Helena" and some other songs. Suddenly, Gerard pulled off his mask. So did the other members. I gasped. It wasn't Gerard at all! It was an ugly preppy man with no nose and red eyes... Everyone ran away, but me and Draco. Draco and I came. It was... Voldemort and the Death Eaters!

"You moronic idiots!" he shouted angrily. "Enoby, I told you to kill Vampire. Thou have failed. And now... I shall kill you and Draco!"

"No, no, please!" we begged sadly, but he took out his knife.

Suddenly, a gothic old man flew in on his broomstick. He had long black hair and a long black beard. He was wearing a black robe that said 'Avril Lavigne' on the back. He shouted a spell, and Voldemort ran away. It was... DUMBLEDORE!

#This chapter got a content warning