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jediavengers · 3 months

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Anakin, don't listen to the haters. I love you, and you love me. We do not owe anyone anything. Our family is who matters. If you get likes and good comments great, if you get hate then whatever because THEY DON'T MATTER. I love you 💕 besides they jealous because you are rocking my world every night...yeah I said it, the D is fire 🔥 happy wife happy life❤️

#anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #curators on tumblr #hayden christensen #star wars #sw anakin #star wars anakin #gypsy rose blanchard #anakin skywalker smut #obi wan and anakin #anakin and ahsoka #anakin and padme #padme amidala #padme naberrie

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needanevenbettername · 1 month

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Ashley: I don't want to lose what we have.

Andrew: Which is what?

Ashley: Something sick and twisted that we both desperately need therapy for.

#the coffin of andy and leyley incorrect quotes #tcoaal incorrect quotes #the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #ashley graves #andrew graves #andrew x ashley #ashley x andrew #gravecest #coffincest #brother x sister #sister x brother #source: gypsy 83

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jeridandridge · 10 days

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Something from my next one shot because it’s gonna be the longest one I’ve written and I’m way too happy with it so far:

“Tell me about them,” you prompt leaning back in your seat.

Melissa sobers up immediately at the question. How could she tell a practical stranger, one she was incredibly attracted to, but still a stranger none the less, that she hated her husbands guts and wanted out before she got any older?

“If I answer you have to tell me something important about you.” She shoots back.

“Deal,” you nod with a smile.

“I-“ Melissa breathes out unsure of where to start, “My ex husband made me miserable. He cheated, rarely came home, expected all the cliche housewife things.” She shrugs through the lie. Yes it was a lie, but not entirely.

#ALL ABOARD THE SMUT TRAIN #heavily Gypsy(2017) inspired #Melissa Schemmenti x reader #Melissa Schemmenti x you

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 4 months

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'Tis The Damn Season

Javy 'Coyote' Machado x Reader

Description: You've made your closest friends over the past decade as a Naval Aviator. That close friend group only expanded when your best friend fell in love when you were in flight school. Nat and Jake are cute together, you can't deny that. It helps that you get along well with Jake. Sadly, where Jake Seresin goes, so does Javy Machado. You can fly with the man, be the perfect wingman, but when both your feet are on the ground, you can't stand him. You're so sure the feeling is mutual. 48 hours in a car with him teaches you differently. Javy Machado is sweet and funny and you might just be falling in love with him. Or have you been in love with him all along?

Themes: Stuck in the snow, showers, shower-thoughts, hate-to-love, stranded in the snow,

Warnings: Female!Reader This fic is for adults age 18 and older, only! There are some fairly spicy thoughts in this part and 100% spicy happenings in the next part! Please do not read if sexual intimacy is disturbing to you!

Word Count: 3938

Author Note: This is part one of two of Gypsy and Javy's story and was written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge! I had an absolute blast writing this fic for Trope #17, Stuck Together/Snowed in/Stranded. I hope you all love reading this fic as much as I loved writing it! All my thanks go to @desert-fern who was instrumental as I bounced ideas back and forth for this fic, as well as for beta-reading it for me!

Cross Posted on AO3 Here!

My Masterlist

It was supposed to be the start of a fabulous holiday - supposed to be, being the key words. It’s rare, honestly nigh on impossible for you to end up having vacation leave lined up at the same time as your friends. You’re in the Navy, you’re a pilot; it kind of comes with the territory. But what is the likelihood you’d find yourself stuck in a car in the middle of a Colorado snowstorm with none other than Javy Machado? You’re unsure who you should blame because the universe clearly has it out for you.

Well, it's either the universe or Natasha Fucking Trace. Honestly, between mystic powers controlling everything that has been or will be and Nat, you’d pick her any day. A part of you has some sympathy for her. It can’t be easy dating a guy and knowing your best friend and his can’t stand each other. It’s the truth, too. You can’t remember why or when you started to get angry at the sight of his smiling face. Still, it was probably sometime between when he asked you if you needed a booster seat to see out of the cockpit and when he blitzed you on the first of the many flights you’ve taken with him.

Why the fuck isn’t he going home to Louisiana? That’s what he usually does. God, if there’s anyone who’d know, it would be you. After all, you’ve been flying with Coyote Machado for the better part of the past decade. Every year, he’d cash in all his leave and fly home. Like clockwork, he’d return after the new year more infuriating than ever. But your knowledge of his behavior doesn’t explain why he’s in Colorado. You were both on an aircraft carrier in the Philippines, for fuck’s sake. There had to have been a transport to Louisiana via the East Coast. But against all odds, the two of you had been on the same transport and flight, hell, even the same bus to the terminal once you landed in Denver.

Now he’s staring at the same board you are, with flickering red signs as flight after flight gets marked as canceled. Including the one you were supposed to be on. It’s just your luck that Tash and Jake are reporting to Norfolk Naval Base right now. It’s just your luck that the only transport you’d been able to get on had landed in San Diego. And it’s just your luck that the cheapest flight you could get had been via Denver in the midst of what has to be the worst snowstorm the region has ever seen. Reception is spotty, but you huddle in a corner, praying to all the gods you don’t believe in that your call connects.

“Tash?” Her voice is grainy and barely audible, but god, if it doesn’t make you want to cry. “I’m in Denver, yeah. There’s a colossal snowstorm blowing in. My flight’s been canceled.”

“I don’t think I’m going to make it in time.”

“I know.”

“I know. I’ve missed you so much. But I don’t see a way for me to get out of here and get there in time?”

“Yeah, Javy’s here.” You can’t control your eye roll as you say his name. “Yeah, I’ll give him the phone.”

“Yo, Machado. Tash wants to talk to you.” He takes the phone from you like he doesn’t want to touch you, which shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

It’s loud and crowded at the airport, so you can’t hear a word of what he says to Nat. There’s nothing else to do but stand at the window and watch the snow fall and fall and fall. There’s already close to a foot accumulated on the ground, and while you’d been wishing for the snow in the heat and humidity of the ship, you hate it now.

“Here, Gypsy.” You accept the device with a half-smile. “Tash had a pretty good idea, y’know?”

You can’t help raising your eyebrow. Javy swallows, more than a little discomfited at your gimlet gaze. “She suggested we rent a car and drive out to Norfolk together.”

Eighteen hundred miles, and he wants to spend all of that time and distance stuck in a car with you? You scoff, “You couldn’t pay me to do that, Machado.”

“Yeah, I know.” There’s something sad and haunted in his eyes. “I know. Believe me, I do. But this isn’t about you and me. This is about Jake and Nat. They want us there, celebrating Christmas with them. So don’t think about doing this with me. Think about how you’re doing this for them.”

Damn him. Damn him for being right. “How are we going to get a car in this?” People are yelling at the poor airline staff behind the counter, kids are screaming, and Christmas Carols are pouring out of the speakers. It’s chaos - loud, unmitigated chaos.

“You leave that to me. You have your bags?” Before you can think or even respond, he’s cutting a swathe through the crowd, and you’re left standing near two Navy standard-issue duffel bags and your one small rolling suitcase. It takes half an hour before he comes back. In that half an hour, you find you’re glad you’d opted for carry-on bags because the mob at the counter waiting to collect check-in bags descends into an outright fistfight.

Javy’s rumpled, his sweater mussed when he lopes back to you, thankfully with car keys in hand. “I got ’em. We have to head down to the main concourse.”

“Anything to get out of this shitshow.” He chuckles and grabs your bags and his own despite your protests.

The car is old but functioning. It’s tiny, though. It's so small that you’re not sure he’ll fit behind the wheel. It can’t be comfortable when he does end up in the car. It looks like his knees are pressed against his chest, even with the seat pushed back as far as it can go. You’re in the passenger seat because he refused to let you drive, and as expected, you’re surrounded by snow the minute the car leaves the parking garage. Visibility is shit, and it feels like the car is moving at a glacial pace. You’re surprised the roads are open at all, and to add insult to injury, you’re sitting in silence. The radio isn’t working, there is more snow - this time of the feedback variety, ironically - and the car is old, so there is no auxiliary cable or USB cable to connect your phone to. And, well, you’re not a fan of the man you’re stuck in the car with for the next 24 to 36 hours, so the less conversation you have, the better. It’s not even like you can read. You’ve only been on the road for an hour at most when the sun sets. But the roads are still open, and traffic is still moving.

As the minutes turn into an hour on the dark, snow-covered roads, you feel your exhaustion setting in. You’ve never slept well on planes - go figure that ninety percent of the time you’re in a cockpit, you’re flying - but flying commercial somehow makes it work. Strap yourself into a jump seat on a cargo plane, and you’re out like a light. Sleeping on a carrier with planes taking off round the clock and midshipmen screaming outside the door, you’re snoring like a baby. But flying economy? Forget about it. So, besides the few hours of fitful sleep you’d gotten on the cargo plane - because you can’t sleep where Javy Machado can make fun of you - you’ve been awake for nearly 48 hours. Your eyes feel itchy and hot, each blink torturous as you fight exhaustion. The car is so warm, and Javy's silent. Even he can't object if you rest your eyes a little, right?

You wake up to a roar of the word, ‘SHIT’, echoing through the car. You startle, and if you were a cat, you’d be stuck to the upper upholstery, fur ruffled and back arched. A coat covers your lap, the soft, rich wool imbued with spicy cologne. It has to be Javy's coat. When did that get there? The visibility out of the windshield is even worse, if possible, and Coyote’s arms are corded as they clutch the wheel in an iron grip.

“Hey, how long was I out?” He doesn’t even look at you when usually he’d be more than ready to tease you on how you probably have drool on your face.

“Coyote? ‘Yote? Hey?!”

“Javy? What’s going on?” You place your hand on his arm, pretending not to notice how firm and warm it is under the bunched-up sleeves of the soft sweater he’s wearing. “Javy, you’re scaring me. C’mon. Tell me what’s happening. What’s a wingwoman for if she can’t help?”

“We’re somewhere in Kansas, and the snow makes this really hard.” There’s something unreadable in the expression on his face as he snarls at the other, far slower drivers on the road in front of you.

“We should stop for the night then.”

“No.” He snarls the words at you, and that’s when you know something is wrong. “No, I can keep going.”

“Javy, maybe you can, but I can’t. I need to take a break, hit the head, and stretch my legs.”

He doesn’t respond, content to make you worry the longer the silence spirals between you like an oppressive living thing. He pulls off the highway when the next exit presents itself. The motel he pulls up to on the side of the road is rough-looking. It’s small and old, but at least it smells clean, or well, at least clean-ish. As luck would have it - because your luck couldn't be any shittier - there’s only one room left for the night. You slap your credit card down on the counter before he can object. He’s Javy Machado. You know what he’s like better than almost anyone else. You may not like him very much, but you can read all of the signs. He’s not the type to let a woman pay for anything, not when he can pay for her. He can take it up with you when he’s not acting weird.

You push him into the shower once you’re in the room, content to just sprawl out on the bed until he’s done. Really, all you're hoping is that the hot water is enough to snap him out of this eerily quiet, angry mood and back to the pain in your ass you're used to. When he steps out, it’s wrapped in one of the motel’s paper-thin towels, and you have to avert your eyes. There’s just a shadow of a smirk on his face as you pass under his arm with all of your clothes bundled up against your chest, trying and failing to avoid making eye contact with all of his wet, glistening muscles. It takes you far too long for your brain to reboot after that sight, and mortification and anger are your companions as you hurriedly strip off your snow-laden clothes.

You’re grumbling the entire time it takes the shower to heat up because it is not fair that Javy Machado looks like that under his uniform. No wonder every girl within a ten-mile radius of base wants to get into his pants. You step into the shower nearly too early, stifling squeals as the too-cold water splatters across your skin. After a few minutes of determined shivering, you finally step under the warming water, coming out in a steady, roaring stream. At least it’s getting hot now, though it’s not as hot as you’d like. You let the spray beat your muscles into submission, relishing the first moment you’ve had by yourself since you left the carrier fleet hours ago. But you’re left in peace only for a few moments. Unbidden, your one-track mind finds its thoughts consumed by Javy Machado again. It starts off with an innocuous thought, “How did a man that large fit into this tiny shower? He could probably see over the curtain rod!” Then you’re wondering if he’s alright. But as your soapy hands trace over your skin, you start to imagine other things.

You start to imagine water droplets sliding over the ridges of his muscles, skating over defined abs, and collecting in the dip of his collar bones. His hands are big and calloused as they lather soap across his skin and then over yours. Shit! When did you start dreaming of yourself in the shower with Javy Machado? There’s an ache in your pelvis as you clench your thighs together as you dream of how those calloused fingers feel on your skin. You get yanked violently out of the vision when the water goes cold on you. It feels like you’ve been immersed in one of the snowbanks outside. You almost fall as you step out of the shower, but it’s silent. Your face is flushed in the fogged-up mirror, your eyes fever bright as your blood pulses in your veins in the same rhythm as your aching cunt. You inhale and exhale raggedly, trying to get your libido under control. Please let there be a bar near Nat and Jake’s place - please - you need to get fucked so bad that you’re fantasizing about your wingman, of all people, now.

It’s getting cold in the bathroom as the steam dissipates when you finally pull yourself together and get dressed fast in a bid to escape the cold. But it is still silent outside the bathroom - almost too silent. You expect laughter at the very least when you open the door because your warmest pajamas are covered in dancing penguins. Instead, Javy’s sitting on the bed, staring out the open window at the milling snow, looking for all the world like he’s lost something he’s just found.

It’s cold in the room, the motel’s shitty heating is barely able to combat the frigid snow outside, and he’s not wearing a shirt. But he doesn’t even notice the gooseflesh on the smooth, broad expanse of his back and chest. The cold blue light reflecting off of the snow piling up outside makes the room even colder, casting deep purplish shadows over his face and making the room eerie. You check that the door is latched and bolted before walking back towards Javy. He doesn’t move a muscle when you take his hands in your own. They’re like ice. He doesn’t even seem to care when you put the pillows down and fish one of your warm fleece blankets out of your bag. Bless Nat and Jake for not having a fully set up guest room yet because there’s no way you’re sleeping in this bed using sheets you’re not sure are clean. The blankets you brought are going to be perfect for the night. He doesn’t move or do anything until you intertwine your fingers with his own and tug on his arm's broad, burly expanse. He lists to the side without protest, and now you know something is wrong. Javy's not the type to do anything quietly. He's the type to shit-talk all the way while flirting endlessly. He turns towards you as you tuck the blanket around his big form, and when you move to pull another blanket out, his hand tugs you in until you’re in his arms.

The pinched furrow creasing his brow finally dissipates slightly. Something’s wrong, and you’re not sure what it is. If this helps, you’ll stay where you are. After all, you’ve slept in far more uncomfortable beds with much worse companions. Javy smells incredible, like soap, cologne, and something you can't place. You curl in closer despite yourself, letting him drag the blanket even further up around your shoulders. Everything is muffled around you. All you can hear is your breath and the soothing thud of his heart. It would be easy to curl in and fall asleep, but you can’t until you know your wingman is alright. But he seems content to lie there, brown eyes glittering with emotions you couldn’t read even if you tried. There’s barely any space between the two of you. Every breath you take has your chest brushing against his.

With the howling wind and the tink of snow against the window, you feel like you’re in a dream. Finally, Javy’s eyes close, even if he is still indescribably tense. You can feel it in the arms wrapped around you and in the muscles jumping in his jaw. His eyes fly open when your fingers trace the stressed tendons lightly.

“What’re you doing, Gypsy?” You’re unsure how to respond; instead, you trace your fingers over the furrow in his brow. Maybe your touch will wipe the stress frown away from his usually jovial face?

“You’re being awfully sweet, Gyppie.” You snort at the diminutive form of your already short callsign. “And here, I thought you hated me.”

Your gasp is barely audible, but you’re sure he can hear it anyway. “You never let it affect things between us when we fly, but I know you can’t stand me.”

“I’ve spent over a decade wondering why.” His next exhale is a harsh whoosh of breath. “But you’ve never told me, and right now, I think I know exactly why. It’s just me, isn’t it, Gyp? Just me and everything that I am.”

Your voice feels stuck. Trapped, lost, chained up behind a decade of hatred, hatred which wavers like it’s standing on a stool that may just have had all of its legs cut out from under it. You curl into Javy’s embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist like it’ll show him you feel differently. Because you do. At first, you had hated Javy Machado. You hated his effortless grace, charm, and ability to pick up concepts you’d had to work to understand yourself. But then he’d been persistent, and you’d been thrust into his company by the presence of Nat and Jake.

That’s when you’d been able to see past the bravado, the mask he put on every day. That’s when you’d fallen headlong into a more profound and long-lasting crush than any relationship you’d found yourself in. But by the time you realized your feelings, he’d picked up on your stand-offish behavior and realized he couldn’t befriend you. Your crush never faded, but it’s evident that Javy had noticed your initial feelings and acted accordingly. But why would he blame everything that happened on himself?

“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m not home for the holidays right now.” What does that have to do with what he was just talking about? “Just chalk it up to another textbook case of me being myself.”

“I can't say I didn't wonder. But it's not my place to poke and pry. Why you're not heading home to Mama Machado is your business.”

“But you can't deny that you're curious, can you?” You shrug as much as you can with your arms wrapped around him.

“Of course you're curious. But how could I have gone home, Gyppie? How?” There's so much pain in his voice as he growls the words out.

He goes silent then, a frown creasing his face as his jaw moves under your fingertips. Your gentle touch doesn’t seem to bother him, just like the prickle of his stubble doesn’t bother you. In another world, in another life, could you have been sleeping every night in his arms like this? You’re not sure you deserve it. Javy was right earlier. You’ve been rude ever since the day you met him. Would anything have changed if you’d acted differently? If you’d been shy and withdrawn instead of angry and argumentative? That water’s long since flowed under the bridge. Too much time, too much history, too much animosity. All you can hope to do is listen. For your wingman, that’s the least you can do.

But your little nap in the car hadn’t been of much use. The longer you spend pressed against the human equivalent of a space heater, the sleepier you feel. You have to stay awake. This could be your one chance to go from rivals or enemies or colleagues to friends. Maybe you could even casually ask Javy to grab a beer after the holidays? But the first step to all of that is to stay awake.

His hands slide up until they're cradling the back of your head, pulling your face level to his own.

“You're not falling asleep on me, are you, Gyppie?” You shake your head wordlessly, captivated by how you can feel his breath against your lips, practically taste the mint from his toothpaste, and how you could kiss him if you leaned in just a bit further.

“It's okay if you do. You barely slept on the plane. My problems don't mean a thing in the face of your exhaustion.” Once again, you're speechless. How is he so selfless? How did you not notice before this very moment?

“I'm okay, Javy. Tell me one thing that's bothering you, the most important thing.” Your voice is the barest whisper, a sigh as he maneuvers you closer and traps your feet between his calves.

“Well, your feet are like itty-bitty ice cubes, Gyppie. The fuck did you do? Stick ‘em in a snowbank before you get into bed?” You gasp and growl playfully at him, pushing at his chest until he pulls you in even closer.

“But in all seriousness, you've been wondering why I didn't go home.” His words are expelled on exhales of breath, just as quiet as yours were earlier, spilling out in stops and starts. “I can't go home, Gyppie. My brother's wedding is on Christmas Day. But it's not that I'm against my brother's marriage. It's more like his fiancée is against having me there.”

You can’t believe anyone would go so far as to ban Javy from his brother's wedding just because she didn't want him there. You cup his jaw gently, letting your hand curl around to cradle the back of his in a position mirroring how he's still holding you.

“You want to know the kicker, Gyppie? She was my fiancée first. She dumped me because she couldn't stand the deployments and fell into bed with my brother days after.”

“What a stupid thing to do.” You're no longer looking into his eyes, focused on his collarbones. “That was a dumb move, and you know it, Machado. She just alienated herself from most of your family. Your Mama first and foremost.”

His laughter has you giggling, too. When your laughter and his finally taper off, you're left to marvel at how much things have changed.

“You want to know the best part?” You hum in response. “The reason why we broke up was because I was already in love with someone else.”

He doesn’t wait for you to ask or even allow you a chance to get past your shock. His hands tip your head up again until you're face to face, and he kisses you, slow and sweet. Your moan takes you by surprise as you try to pull him even closer, letting him imprison you in his embrace.

“Fuck, this Christmas would've been so different if I'd just told you how much I loved you before we left flight school, Gyppie.”

This time, you tug him in, kissing him slow and sweet until there's molten lava in your veins and there's snow in your mind. It's beginning to feel like a holly jolly Christmas indeed.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado x reader #coyote x reader #WinterRomComChallenge #'tis the damn season #gypsy x javy #the coyote and his gypsy #coyote x gypsy

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startheskelaton · 2 months

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No problem, I like both of your AUs so don't worry about, they both rock! Also, besides non-Toho Kaijus, what about those who're scrapped like Bagan for example? Do they appear in the Godzilla AU as well?

We will be seeing characters like Gamera and Mechs from Pacific rim

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knitnightstudio · 6 months

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Rings of Our Flag Means Death

This is somewhat conjecture but I have a theory about Ed's rings on Our Flag Means Death and I need to get it out of my head and written down. I'd be thrilled if @davidjenks could confirm but I understand if he's too busy!

I'm sorry about how bad these pics are, because of how Max blocks its content I had to take photos of my computer rather than screen grabs.

My theory is that the bright green ring Ed wears in Season 2 belonged to Stede and that when Ed destroyed the ship right after Stede left in season 1 Ed found the ring and kept it. I am basing this on nobody wearing it in Season 1, it being way too big for Ed, it being Stede's color, and Ed not getting rid of it when he gets rid of the "poisoned" loot. As you'll see below, Stede's rings are canonically too big for Ed. There is NO reason for Gypsy Taylor to make Taika Waititi wear a ring that doesn't fit unless there was a specific reason for the ring.

Additionally, When Ed gets rid of all the treasure in 2x6 why would he keep the ring if it was part of the plunder? There is no way he'd keep it unless it meant something important to him.

Then Ed throws his leathers overboard but he STILL keeps the green ring. Why would he do that if it was part of what the leathers meant to him?

It HAS to have a different meaning, and I believe that meaning HAS to be Stede.

We all know that Ed kept Stede's black tie after they switched clothes in 1x4. He wears it through most of season 1. He has a history of keeping part of Stede close to him.

You can't see the tie in season 2 until he has decided to drive the ship into the storm, so sometime between when he leaves Izzy with the gun, and when he tells Frenchie to let him steer the boat he put the scarf back on. After he and Stede are reunited we don't see the scarf again until it is placed on Izzy's grave. Why?

I think it's because the crew knew that the scarf belonged to Stede. If Ed had worn it prior to driving into the storm the crew would have definitively known that sweet Ed was still in there. Clearly they knew why Ed was behaving in the way that he was, but I think Ed probably thought he wasn't being so obvious.

He could wear the ring and thus keep Stede close to him because nobody had seen it before and would just assume it was from a plunder, not as a reminder of Stede.

Stede could have given it to Ed before they got separated, I'm assuming if he had we would have seen that. But regardless if Stede gave it to Ed or Ed took it, the fact remains it HAS to be Stedes as far as I'm concerned.

Once Stede and Ed are reunited he doesn't need the scarf anymore. It's too reminiscent of the life he wanted to leave, but the ring symbolizes Stede without the pirate baggage.

_______

These are Ed's rings in season 1. I have watched pretty darn closely and other then when he and Stede change clothes, they remain the same all season. AND THEY FIT HIM.

This is Ed wearing Stede's rings. They are clearly too big for him. All of them are sideways nearly the entire time he wears them.

In 2x1 Ed is suddenly wearing this ring. It's a bright green rectangular stone being held in by 4 prongs. It is NOT seen in season 1. The image below is from the sequence of them going on all the raids and is the only clear pic i could get of the green ring in 2x1.

You can see it a lot more clearly in 2x2.

It also does NOT fit Ed well, just like Stede's other rings from 1x4. He wears is all season except in 2x5 when he doesn't wear any rings. He does wear it in 2x8 I just didn't take a picture. You can see it most clearly when Ed puts his hand up when he is trying to save Izzy.

Ed gets rid of his leathers but keeps the green ring

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annaberunoyume · 11 months

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A most cute, charming encounter in the woods (Drunk!Wally Darling x Fem!Giant!Naga Reader)

(Drunk!Wally wandered a little too far into the woods near the Neighborhood…He suddenly bumps into something reddish-pink. It's

a huge, gigantic serpent tail. He seems surprised, but drunkness

keeps him from being afraid. He hugs it.)

Female!Giant!Naga Reader (or Genderneutral, if you prefer. up to you. I shall write it with fem! pronouns, but you may imagine yourself as you, as well. ^^):

Hmmm? (She raises her head, feeling something touching the tip of her tail) A mouse? Hmmm…I could use a mouse… (She gets ready to strike, but stops abruptly when she sees Wally just blissfully hugging her tail. She slowly wraps the tip of her tail around him, in tilted confusion, lifting the oddity up to her eyes.)

You're not a mouse?

Drunk!Wally: (Just notices now that he is up. He looks at the tiny coil around him. He then looks up…And in utter awe…Curious (eye color) eyes looks back at time. He is in rapture at such beauty) Are…Are you a goddess?

Fem!GiantNaga!Reader: No…(she smiles, tilting her head) Are you a mouse?

Drunk!Wally: Hahahahaha! No! (he looks at his bottom) Do I look like I have a tail? (hips)

Fem!Giant!Naga!Reader: Hahaha, no. Are you a human?

D!Wally: Not…exactly. I'm a puppet-man…I suppose.

Fem!G!Naga!Reader: Hehehe, one thing for sure, you're a cute oddity.

D!Wally: (Twirls his hair in shyness, Blushing orangy-red) Hehehe…You're quite the pretty one, y-yourself…

Fem!G!Naga!Reader: (Just smiles warmly. She smiles as Wally yawns, rubbing his eyes)

D!Wally: Pardon me, my lady…I had a long, fun night…(He rubs his eyes)

Fem!G!Naga!Reader: I can see that…Maybe I can keep you company while you sleep…(She moves her face closer to Wally) You may even enjoy a goddess's lullaby… (She flutters her eyes)

D!Wally: (Smiles, blushing, enamoured and twitterpatted) Mmmm…I would…For sure… (He folds his arms under his head, lying it sideways atop the coil around his chest, an adorable, sleepy, blissful smile, on his face.)

Fem!G!Naga!Reader: Hmm… (singing) Heaven's gift to me, just the way you are, a new age child from a distant star…It feels so good just to be so close to your love, you are Heaven's gift to me… (She gently wraps a coil around his wait and thighs, in a chaste way, just to keep him warm) You are so sweet and pure just the way you are…Mama's previous jewel, Daddy's rising star, there's so much in life for you to see… (Wally hums in utter bliss. He can almost feel her voice gently vibrate on him) And so much to be, you are Heaven's gift to me…

(The Naga la-las into the night as she makes her way towards the Neighborhood. After a spell…She reaches it. Home looks at her with wary, almost angry eyes. They both have an unspoken conversation. The Naga understands that that tiny puppet-man is very important to that Home. She takes a bow and gently lies the sleeping Wally on the ground at Home's door.)

I simply wish to bring him Home, Madam. Good night. (She slowly slithers away to the woods. Home opened her door and gently takes Wally inside with her goo.)

THE END

Lullaby that reader sang in this story:

youtube

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moonixlity · 4 months

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Imagine you meet up with Tom Blyth Snow and he stare you down because you say you don’t think e-boys are sexC. He growls in your ear with his vapor(from his off brand ElfBar) “say that again little fucking cunter” you collapse from WAP

#tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #so hot 🔥🔥🔥#president snow #2000s emo #emocore #emo boy #emo kid #hot celebs #president snow HOT more like #bae #imagine roleplay #hunger games roleplay #gay #bisexual #bats #gypsy rose blanchard slays

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gretasworld · 1 year

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Representation of Ethnic Roma Women in animation. Roma gypsies originated in Indian Sub Continent and migrated to Romania and rest of Europe a long time ago. These people saw the rule of the Byzantine Empire which was was continuation of Roman Empire and in many ways mimicked the Romans. They gypsies suffered at the hands of Byzantines and also watched their defeat.

In season 4, where Greta says " My family escaped from the Romans " she is referring to the Byzantine Romans. She also says "my family arrived here when it was empty place " referring to the migration in Transylvania. If you look at the time line of Castlevania which is 15th century and look up Romania during mediavel Europe where the story takes place, you will find existence of local Romanis beside other ethnic groups like Tatars, Slavs,Goths,Szekelys and such. Historically speaking, black people went to Romania much later after 15th century, sometime around 19th - 20th century during communist era.

Greta's ethnic representation is accurate when you match the the timeline of the show with the real thing. 👌

Greta of Castlevania - One on the left is a more dignified chief of village.

Esmeralda of Disney - One on the right is a flamboyant performer in the streets.

Both are exotic beauties of Indian origin. 💜

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peakyscillian · 1 year

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Wild Horses | Modern!Tommy One Shot

Summary: Using the prompt "I promise it's a nice thing. just close your eyes and don't cheat!" Warnings: Fluff! Pairing: Modern!Tommy x Fem!Reader Requested: Yes! by the lovely Liv (@gypsy-girl-08) for my 1.5k Celebration which you can join in with or request a prompt from! Thank you so much for the request Liv, here's my gift to you for being so supportive from almost the start of my wild Peaky community journey! ily! Notes - Thank you @heidimoreton for the gif!

Masterlist | 1.5k Celebration

Wild Horses.

You were sat outside the office block, waiting for Tommy to appear, he'd told you fifteen minutes ago he was on his way. He was impossible always working, you only needed him for the afternoon.

He'd promised you he'd been done by the time you arrived to get him, you'd somehow managed to keep a secret from him, with a lot of hushed phone calls to the family and late night emails.

You knew he was avoiding coming down to the car, he hated surprises, picking up your phone you dialled his number.

"I'm coming darling, I'm coming" he voice drawled down the line, you rolled your eyes hanging up without a word.

'Is he on his way down? x' you text your brother in-law for some support, 'putting him in the lift as we speak x' Arthur's response flew back.

You flicked the end of your cigarette out of the window, Tommy was leaving his office, you'd told him to take a change of clothes, be in something more casual, but, no here he was in his full suit slipping into the passenger seat of your car.

He lent across the centre console, pressing a kiss to your cheek "hello darling" he smiled.

You turned your head to catch his lips, letting yourself get carried away, as your phone buzzed.

You grabbed it quickly so he wouldn't see, turning to start the engine "I hate not knowing, you know that" he grumbled, throwing himself back into the seat like a spoilt child.

You laughed lightly "I promise it's a nice thing. just close your eyes and don't cheat!" you squeezed his knee, pulling out of the parking space.

You somehow convinced Tommy to put on the blindfold, one you'd whipped out of the box kept in the wardrobe, he'd never let you use it on him before.

"Don't think we'll do this in the bedroom again, it's not that nice is it?" he groaned, you bit at your lips holding in the small giggle "I don't know Tom, I enjoy it" you admitted.

You could sense the smirk on his lips, keeping your eyes on the road "then we will continue" he laughed.

You made the familiar turning into Charlie's Yard, he'd helped you plan almost all of this surprise, you checked the text on your phone from him.

'All sorted, third stable, set up. Curly out of the way he can't keep a secret'

You got out of the car, making your way round to the passenger side, helping Tommy out, guiding him across the cobbles to the large gates.

"Why are we at Charlies Yard?" he asked, you stopped trying to see where he had managed to sneak a peak from the blindford.

"The smell, its the smell of Charlie's Yard I haven't looked" he confirmed, you huffed of course he knew this place by just the smell, he'd spent nearly all his life here.

You stood behind him, standing on tiptoes to unknot the blindfold "Keep your eyes closed, Thomas" you giggled, making your way back round to his side.

Linking your fingers through his "Open" you whispered, so giddy with excitement.

You watched him as his eyes finally fell on the majestic black horse, he turned to you mouth agape with shock "You didn't?" he asked, stepping forward slowly towards the horse.

Tommy was always dreaming about owning a horse again, he'd grown up riding but moving into the City to launch the business meant he left his horses in Curly's care.

He turned to you, a beaming smile on his face, you moved towards him watching as he spoke softly to the horse, "She's called Gypsy Eve" you handed him the paperwork.

Tommy nodded his free arm wrapped round your waist pulling you into his side, "have you ever been on a horse?" he asked, you looked up at the towering animal "never, they frighten me" you admitted.

Tommy smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek "We can ride together"

You gave him a look, "don't start you little tease" he hummed with an amused smirk, "I do like riding sometimes" you quipped as he pressed his fingers to your side, making you squirm at the sensation.

"Lets go for a ride" he declared, shrugging off his suit jacket, "what kind?" you asked, he shook his head walking to the side of the horse, patting her on the back.

"later for the other kind of ride, eh?" he cupped at your jaw letting his lips slide across yours momentarily.

"Is that a promise?" you asked, fingers dancing in the shaved side of his hair "Of course, when have I ever let you down"

Taglist

@cillmequick @runnning-outof-time @look-at-the-soul @gypsy-girl-08 @zablife @forgottenpeakywriter @cillixn @heidimoreton @thomasshelbee @queenshelby @missymurphy1985 @cloudofdisney @allie131313 @vhscillian @radioheadgirl @being-worthy @elenavampire21 @datewithgianni @magicalpieex @midnightmagpiemama @shelbydelrey @janelongxox @camilleholland89 @cilliansangel @uchihacumdump @inkandpen22 @lovemissyhoneybee @ysmmsy @lyarr24 @anotherhitandrun @alreadybroken-ts @flyingjosephine-blog @moral-turpitudes @lostgirl219 @duckybird101 @blyanyan @flippittygibbitts

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