#if they were in a relationship their ship name would be cold soup

[kanadrawz]

drew them hanging out bc im coping

based on this lol

#cpu miis #wii sports #wii sports resort #tomodachi life #art #digital art #artwork #artists on tumblr #oc x canon #not rly but just in case #they have the lowest ranking on their respective relationship chart and still go to the amusement park at midnight #goals tbh #if they were in a relationship their ship name would be cold soup

[hannigramtropefest]

Hannigram Tropefest 2022 Masterlist

Thanks to everyone who took part in this year’s Hannigram Tropefest. For our first round, we had an amazing selection of fanfics and artistic creations. You can find all of our fics in our Hannigram Tropefest 2022 collection on AO3, but for all fic and art links, please see below.

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‘I shouldn’t feel lonely when you’re gone'

Author: Angelic_Disaster

Artist: Vampyrzky

Rating: Explicit

Length: 28,859 words

Ships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (Mentions of Past Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter)

Warnings: Choose to not use archive warnings

Tropes: Amnesia, Will’s Aftershave, Chicken Soup

The heart monitor connected to Hannibal makes a sudden, unrhythmical beep the moment Will enters through the door.

“You must forgive me for my bluntness, but are we in a romantic relationship?” Hannibal asks and Will isn’t exactly sure how to answer that. He can’t technically say no, but honestly, bloody courtship may be a more proper name for it.

While Hannibal suffers from a case of amnesia, Will puts a stop to the honey-trap plan to take care of him.    

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Trope: Wrong Number (Hannigram)

Author: TigerPrawn

Artist: Ani Louhetar

Rating: Explicit

Length: 5,680 words

Ships: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham

Warnings: No Archive Warnings

Tropes: Wrong number, A/B/O, different first meeting

Summary:

Omegas only go into heat if they meet a compatible alpha, but with both alphas and omegas being so rare it is an infrequent occurrence. One that Will Graham had certainly never anticipated happening to him.

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Dinner Is Best Served By Tour Bus

Author: TheSilverQueen

Artist: hit_the_books

Rating: T

Length: 6,146

Ships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Warnings: Nonconsensual Vampire Turning

Tropes: Alternate Universe - Vampires, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper

Summary:

When Alana cajoles Will into taking an actual, real vacation, he decides to go to Florence and do touristy things, like eat good food and go on tours and be spontaneous. All good things, except for the fact that his spontaneous decision to go on a tour in the catacombs brings him face to face with very hungry vampires who think he is dinner.

“I believe you all were promised an experience of a lifetime,” says the definitely-not-a-statue man on the throne. “And we do plan to deliver. For the feast of a Council is, I’m told, quite the sight to behold. Sadly, none of us are vegetarians.”

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You Were Made for Me

Author: hisvoicebrokemyheart

Artist: pensulliwen

Rating: General

Length: 3,272 words

Ships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, (past Will Graham/Original Characters), (past Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter mentioned), (past Hannibal Lecter/Bedelia duMaurier mentioned)

Warnings: brief mention of canon typical gore

Tropes: soulmates/soul bond, bathing, Hannibal is the Devil

Summary:

Will never thought he would be cut out for a soul bond — people were averse to his touch, he was too cold. Then he met Hannibal Lecter, and Will learned what warmth was for the first time. Their relationship was one that flayed themselves open to one another, but it seems that Hannibal has one last secret to reveal.

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Forgive Me Father, For I Wish To Sin

Author: ImpalaAngel

Artist: hughmikkelsen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Cannibalism, Religious Trauma, Canon-compliant levels of violence

Tropes used: Priest!Hannibal, Priest!Will, Cannibalism, First Time, Gone Fishing, Hannibal is The Devil, How much whiskey can Will have before his ankles are in the air, Murder Family, Post-Fall Europe, Shattered Teacup, Voyeurism.

Ships: Hannibal/Will

Word Count: 105,635 words

Summary:

Think “Seven,” but sexy. Will and Hannibal find themselves on a yacht and sail to Italy to become priests of a local small town church with a history of corruption. They meet an enigmatic young woman and all three set out on a journey of self discovery: she by using her power for good, and they by realising the depths with which love can go. Of course, Italy is not without its own mysteries as Hannibal and Will kill and fuck their way from pride to sloth, their past catches up to them. Just how did they end up with Dr. DuMaurier’s leg on a table? And of course, they tie up a few red loose ends.

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it takes one to know one

Author: Biv_w

Artist: ScarletMothlet

Rating: Explicit

Length: 3,085 words

Ships: Hannibal/Will

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence.

Tropes: Drawing Will Graham, Hannibal is The Chesapeake Reaper, Hannibal’s Mind Palace, Skin Hunger, Sailing the Atlantic, Murder Husbands, Hannibal and his Uncanny Strength of Smell, Fluff.

Summary:

Hannibal sees a new face in prison and feels far more than intrigued.

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The Blood of the Son

Author: bittercigs_ (twitter)

Artist: i-call-me-clarence (tumblr)

Rating: Teen

Length: 4,911 words

Ships: Gen

Warnings: Religious Imagery & Symbolism; Mild Depictions of Violence

Tropes: New Orleans Police Detective!Will Graham, Priest!Hannibal, Casefic

Summary:

One of the best in the NOPD, Detective Will Graham struggles to solve a string of recent murders, leading him to temporarily turn back to the religion he’d previously abandoned.

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The Lamb of God

Author: LAfterDark30

Artist: i-call-me-clarence

Rating: Explicit

Length: 12,632

Ships: Hannibal/Will

Warnings: some pretty blasphemous uses of the Bible and Catholic history, Chilton has a BAD time, character death (none of the mains), graphic artsy violence, manipulative Hannibal, alcoholism in appearance only, betrayal, choking, of the non-sexy kind, dead dove, for the choking, anal sex, Bottom Will, Top Hannibal

Tropes: Soulmates, Priest Will, Demon Hannibal

Summary:

In a world where meeting your soul mate makes their name appear on your skin, Hannibal lived free of that nonsense. As a demon without a soul, he spent his time torturing exorcists and taunting the Church until he heard of the Church’s prized exorcist Father Will Graham, the “lamb of God,” and the idea for his ultimate masterpiece of terror took shape.

Step 1: Get close to Father Graham. Step 2: Cultivate his darkness. Step 3: Turn him against his beloved Church.

He just had to ignore Father Graham’s name appearing as a soul mark on his skin.

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The Dispersal Method

Author: victorine

Artist: hit_the_books

Rating: Explicit

Length: 16,906

Ships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Warnings: no archive warnings apply, sex pollen, dubious consent (mutual as both are exposed to pollen), consensual choking (brief), unrecommended lube alternatives

Tropes:

sex pollen, honeypot Will, crime-scene sex, sex in the Bentley, “Is Hannibal in love with me?”, secret surprise trope (no spoilers)

Summary:

It’s a normal fall day in the forest for Will Graham. Dead body in front of him, cannibal psychiatrist behind him, the usual. Then Will brushes against the wrong flower, and suddenly neither he nor Hannibal can keep their hands off each other. Now Will must navigate his way out of the crime scene and Jack’s scrutiny while also trying not to jump Hannibal’s bones at every opportunity.

Well, one out of three ain’t bad.

Set nebulously in s2, post-Will’s release from the BSHCI. Will’s a conflicted honeypot, Hannibal’s a (not-so) secretly-besotted asshole, and nobody has brought enough lube.

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Mozzie’s Mass in C Minor

Author: @sihaya74 (AO3 MadhouseMuse)

Artist: @MissLunaKitty (AO3 MargotBloom)

Rating: Explicit

Length: 7,395 words

Ships: Hannigram

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Tropes: Post-Fall Cuba, Murder Husbands, Cannibalism, Will the Boat Mechanic, Night at the Symphony.

Summary:

After a few years laying low in Cuba, Hannibal and Will attend the national symphony in Havana. There, they have a fateful meeting with an American politician on vacation. You know what happens. :) THIS PROJECT IS DEDICATED TO OUR HERO AND OUR FANDOM KING - BRYAN FULLER, WITH MUCH LOVE FROM LUNA AND SIHAYA.

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the price of anything

Author name: neila777

Artist name: G0UGER

Rating: Gen

Length: 9,101

Ships: Hannibal/Will

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tropes used: Magic AU, Hannibal cooks for Will, Chicken Soup

Summary:

There’s magic here. Not just magic, but powerful magic. Dangerous magic. It’s woven through the walls and lights and air, shifting and settling as Hannibal moves through the space.

A door at the back of the store opens suddenly and in walks a man carrying a pile of books that he sets on the glass counter. His face is framed by dark brown curls as he leans over the volumes, peering over his glasses. To Hannibal, the image of it feels like something one would see in a painting — a carefully sculpted subject posed to catch the light just right as he’s absorbed his work.

Or: Hannibal stumbles into Will’s magic shop and the two are instantly drawn to each other, but they’ll have to face their secrets as they grow closer together.

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Contempt of Courtly Love

Author: Sergeant_Sawyer

Artist: scarletmothlet

Rating: Teen

Word count: 3,100

Ships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Warnings: Major character death, spoilers

Tropes: Murder husbands, ficlet collection

Summary:

8 ways in which Will and Hannibal’s relationship does (or doesn’t) correlate with principles of Courtly Love.

Fic link

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The Boogeyman

Author:  Call_Me_Clarence

Artist: hit_the_books

Rating: Mature

Length: 20,636

Ships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Blood and gore, Implied bottom Will, Implied top Hannibal, Brainwashing of a minor, No underage sex, Kidnapping of an underage victim, Capture bonding (Not between Will and Hannibal), Domestic violence (Not between Will and Hannibal), Alcohol use, Implied/Referenced Alcohol abuse/Alcoholism, Murder, Sexual content, Frottage, Frottage for a case, First Kiss, Hannibal is still a serial killer but blink and you’ll miss the hints

Tropes: Bestfriend Bev, There was only one bed, Snuggling for warmth, Encephalitis Will, Case fic

Summary:

Will and Hannibal head to Minnesota to solve the case of The Boogeyman, a serial killer who hides under victims’ beds and waits for them to fall asleep before attacking.  There’s only one hotel room available, and even worse, only the one bed. As they get closer to the killer they find themselves getting closer to each other.

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a siphon; to pass through

Author: chaparral_crown

Artist: merrythoughts

Rating: Mature

Length: 71,226

Ships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Medical Trauma, Chronic Illness, Blood and Gore

Tropes: Sick Fic, Vampires, Meet Cute

Summary:

For approximately ten minutes, Will entertains the possibility that the whole evening before had been a very vivid dream, not because he is particularly doubtful of his memory, but because Doctor Lecter - Hannibal - doesn’t leave any evidence of his visit, no matter where Will’s keen eyes look for it. And he does look for it. — Will Graham’s encephalitis comes from an unexpected source - late onset type 1 diabetes. Between the betrayal of his body, and the strange doctor that he meets on an arrest, he’s not so sure he’s not experiencing a relapse, or if the dead have actually risen to clear out his cabinet of liquor and blood sugar.

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Fever

Author: Hannibalsimago

Artist: Sarah the Artiste

Rating: Mature

Length: 15,972

Ships: Hannibal/Will, Hannigram

Warnings: sickfic; Comfort/Angst, no other major warnings from AO3

Tropes: Domestic AU, Chicken Soup, Sickfic

Summary:

After the Fall, Will and Hannibal have settled into an asexual, monogomous, altogether ordinary domestic life together. For Hannibal it’s easy. He’s vowed to accept any restrictions that Will sets in place, just so he can share a lifetime with him.

And as for Will, he is resolutely determined not to change anything about what their lives are like now. Their past was full of unsaid feelings and buried emotions. So much deception and pain inflicted upon each other. Will has no desire to go back to that hurtful chaos. This way is better, he tells himself. After all, why mess up something that’s working? He doesn’t have to unpack any painful memories, deal with past sorrows. Life is good.  

That is, until Hannibal becomes gravely ill and Will is faced with hard truths.

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I need my golden crown of sorrow, my bloody sword to swing

Author: obfuscatedheart

Artist: Ani Louhetar

Rating: Explicit

Length: ~20,000

Ships: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham

Warnings: Graphic description of violence, A/B/O typical sexism, Alpha!Hannibal, Omega!Will

Tropes: Royalty AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega society

Summary:

Will is set to inherit his father’s throne that is until he presents as an omega. He knows that he will be married off to someone who will take over the throne. A potential match is Mason Verger, who is violently anti omegas. Rather than be bonded to Mason Verger he instigates a war. To help his father to win the war he goes to a neighboring kingdom to ask for help. Along the way he meets the mysterious alpha Hannibal in the woods. Is he worth risking everything for?

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Open Your Wild Eye

Author: ChibiTabatha

Artist: Tulip

Rating: Explicit

Length: 34,988

Ships: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham, Will Graham & Beverly Katz

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Bottom Will, Violence, Murder, Minor Character Death, Animal Illness, Minor Frederick Chilton/Will Graham

Summary:

Will is a struggling college student, his job cuts his hours again and Bev suggests that he becomes a sugar baby. After the first date was a flop, he gives Hannibal Lecter a chance. The man isn’t put off by his abrasive personality and they grow closer together.

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And that’s it!

If you’d like to see the AO3 Collection head on over to the Hannigram Tropefest 2022 Collection.

~ hit_the_books

#hannigram #hannibal fanfic #hannibal fanart #nbc hannibal #hannibal/will #Will/Hannibal #Hannigram Tropefest 2022 #Hannigram Tropefest

[z-h-i-e]

Get to know me better...

I have been tagged by @sallysavestheday and I aim to please. Or, at least answer the call to answer questions. ^_^

Relationship status: Smaug and I have been together since 1997 - according to the Elves, we've been married since 1998, according to the Race of Men, 2000. We're also besties, so that definitely made all the time spent together during the pandemic pretty nice.

Favorite color: I have a favorite color spectrum that includes purple, green, and gold. It slides around depending on my mood. I will also argue that glitter is one of my favorite colors.

Song stuck in your head: This precise moment? My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark/Fall Out Boy -- I've been listening to it, thinking of Finrod composing songs about the burning of the ships that become popular and this leads into Celegorm and Curufin being pissed at him later that their shoreline deeds become Noldorin pop songs without them getting any credit

Favorite food: I am a big fan of mushrooms - years ago, when I used to do impromptu Discord calls while cooking and imparting fandom and life wisdom, it ended up named 'Mushrooms in my Ramen' because that's the best way to ramen. I also like fruit; I grow several types in my yard. Shrimp, shrimp is amazing. Shrimp on pizza, shrimp and corn chowder, shrimp and grits -- just, shrimps, yes. Also poutine. I love a good poutine. I like making soups and chili the way I want them (basically, no tomatoes - tomatoes are my species enemy, they will try to kill me), so, tomato-less and meatless chili is kind of my jam. My big guilty pleasure is Chicken McNuggets. I know they're basically fried chicken goop, I will still consume them. I don't even need sauce. (But, sauce is good, so it honey with them.) Oh, and raw sweet corn. I don't know why people cook corn. It's so much better raw. (not canned cold, but fresh raw sweet corn)

Last song played: I heard Alone Again Or by The Damned when I drove home. I had only previously heard the original by Love, which I, heh, wow, unintentional pun, love. It's a song on my original Glorfindel/Erestor playlist from twenty years back, when the early shippers were jockeying for position and trying to figure those Rivendell bois out. I should teach myself to play that song. I wonder how it would sound on the balalaika... *pencils that in for a summer project* I already know the lyrics... [So the connection for me with Glorfindel and Erestor on this was the idea of Glorfindel being really friendly with everybody, but the only one he wants is Erestor, so he remains alone and waits for him during the early fourth age when the two of them are the last two remaining inhabitants of Imladris. Even though they aren't together yet, Glorfindel still uses terms of endearment for Erestor - right to his face - nothing hidden. My Erestor is such a asshole. Someday he'll do right by everyone... moving on...]

Dream Trip: I'm at a point where I hate any trip where I can't be home to sleep. Apnea diagnosis did that. So, I guess I'd like VR to catch up to a point where I can really and truly immerse and then go to...Middle-earth, of course I'm going there, or Thundera (obviously pre-explodeyness).

Last thing I Googled: I've been trying to help a friend find apartments in Milwaukee county that are not ridiculously expensive or have weird stipulations or fees attached to them. Certainly been a challenge. But the last last thing was googling Alone Again Or by The Damned so I could listen to it again but also sing along as I was writing this (yeah, that's apparently a creepy thing I do, is singing songs with unrelated lyrics while typing other words or blog posts or fanfic, so that's a thing I have going for me)

I guess that's all for now. Instead of tagging anyone in particular, I suggest that anyone who is interested in sharing please steal these questions and have at it. Or, just go and listen to Alone Again Or. It's a good song.

Love: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPbNpIG8x_s

The Damned: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nYVDN27CrOo

Only just realizing this now, it's not a bad Finrod pining for Amarië or Edrahil song, either... I'll have to tuck that away for later.

Your mileage may vary - if you do listen to it, I would would be interested knowing who it reminds you of.

#zhie's random thoughts and musings

[italiangothicwriteblr]

Hey! Chicken Noodle and Italian Wedding Soup? 😊

Chicken Noodle Soup: Your favorite hurt/comfort scene:

(Not sure if this counts as hurt/comfort but it's close and I like it)

The worst, though, was on his back. It was covered in angry, inflamed red marks, but they clearly weren't created by a knife or a whip. They looked like they were coming from inside his skin.

Sensing everyone staring, Giacomo spoke.

“ ‘S what happens when you overuse magic too many times. Strained myself to meet his demands and my body eventually started fighting back.”

No one needed to ask who he was referring to.

“Did this...happen a lot?” Niccolo finally managed to speak.

“Not till after the war. Once he was king, his needs got more elaborate. Wanted more magic than I could reasonably do. Not like he made any effort to understand that- to him, sorcerers are either a resource to be exploited, or a threat to be exterminated. I’m not even sure he noticed it was killing me.”

Adrasteia looked like she was going to be sick.

“Last week,” Novellia started, “you said he caught you doing banned spells, and you had to work for him?”

“That was the start of it, yeah, but I was into it at the beginning. He was offering me a life of luxury and all I had to do was a bit of magic now and then to make his life easier. Every time he killed or conquered, he would tell me that they had it coming. He controlled all the information I got. 

“You aren’t going back there,” Martino’s stern voice spoke from the door, leaving no room for argument, “I’ll take responsibility, or whatever I have to do, but I’lll kill the bastard myself before I let him anywhere near you.”

There was an unreadable expression in Giacomo’s eyes. It was something between affection and resentment.

“Don’t want your charity,” Giacomo gritted out.

“Fine. Don’t think of it as charity. You have information on him,” Martino spat the last word with undisguised contempt, “If it helps, you can think of this as all of us being completely selfish.”

Giacomo made a sound that was almost a laugh.

(Giacomo getting genuine caring for the first time in two decades is just top tier)

Italian Wedding Soup: Your favorite pairing among your characters

I love them all so much and I'm thinking about different ones at different times. But, since I've been doing some The King and the Fool brainstorming lately, I'll do the two main ships from that.

Niccolo and Enrico: These two. My BABIES. You have this cold, calculating aristocrat who just falls head over heels for this absolute fool of a man, because he's impulsive and fun--all the things he never really had with people he grew up with. Niccolo is the greatest tactician of his generation and is completely besotted with the dumbest man ever. And then you have poor Enrico, who's just so insecure and confused on why anyone would like him, just can not believe that Nic likes him back. Their communication is a mess but they're doing their best! Also, my "cool" ship name for them is Cursed Serpent and I'm telling everyone.

Martino and Giacomo: The fun thing about these two--Martino's a soldier from abroad, who comes from a nation that actually likes magic. So, he's the one person Giacomo meets who doesn't have any biases about him. Their relationship has to be secret for a while, because Basilio really doesn't like it (Martino's both a commoner, and someone who tells things like they are--he'll tell Giacomo if he sees Basilio does awful shit). These two are so cute--even after they have their Big Fight, Giacomo knows that Martino is the one person who only ever wanted to help him. (My ship name for them is "Sorcery and Steel")

#asks #niccolo x enrico #martino x giacomo #ocs

[callmebrycelee]

9-1-1: LONE STAR REACTION

This reaction is for the season 4, premier episode titled "The New Hotness" which originally aired on January 24, 2023. The episode was written by Molly Green and James Leffler and directed by Bradley Buecker. Spoilers ahead!

***LAST TIME ON 9-1-1: LONE STAR***The 126 was rebuilt and reopened! Owen nearly died (again) after a building collapsed on him. We also learned that he doesn't have cancer so yay! Tommy was finally settling into her new normal, being a single parent to her twins Evie and Izzy. Grace gave birth to a beautiful baby girl named Charlie (named after Tommy's late-husband, Charles) and she and Judd got to experience childhood for the very first time. Judd learned he had a son and we got to see the relationship between he and Wyatt develop over the season. Nancy and Mateo got together which no one saw coming. And lastly, the couple that launched a thousand ships, TK and Carlos, got engaged!

Okay, now that we're all caught up, let's talk about the premiere episode of season four - THE NEW HOTNESS!!!

We began the episode with a cold open and two familiar faces - our favorite dysfunctional young couple, Brianna (McKaley Miller) and Caleb (Sean H. Scully) . Immediately I thought to myself, oh great! What's about to happen to poor Caleb. Just in case you forgot, we were first introduced to these two in the season one episode "Act of God" when Caleb got locked in his father's gun safe as he attempted to hide during a tornado. The next time we see them is in last season's "The ATX-Files". Poor Caleb gets thrown from an ATV, after he drove off without Brianna, and was launched into a barbed wire fence. 

Caleb is fully recovered and he and Brianna are spending an evening at a loca fair. Caleb spends 80 bucks trying to win a giant ass teddy bear which he believes will show Brianna and her family (who thinks he's a big fat loser) how much he cares about her. When Brianna tries to address the current status of their relationship, the fried soup (eww) that Caleb ate starts to wreak havoc on his stomach. He takes off towards the portable toilets, nearly knocking over a man and his daughter (more on them later) along the way. He makes it into one of the porta potties and it is on. Caleb totally gets the poop sweats so he has to take off his clothes. Unfortunately for him, a violent windstorm picks that very moment to hit. Intense heat causes balloons to pop, the ice cream cone in Brianna's hand to melt, and the latch on the portable toilet's door to melt, trapping poor Caleb inside. The strong gust of wind carries the porta potty with Caleb inside off into the air and that is when we get a title card!

We rewind to eight hours before the events at the local fair. We head over to the firehouse where we see all of the 126 sans Owen gathered watching a weather report. They are warned of gray skies and drizzle which isn't that big of a deal to the same people who have battled dust storms, volcanoes, and forest fires. TK talks about his upcoming wedding and tells the crew about all of the 14 venues he and Carlos have looked at. The venue they really want is in their budget but since everyone in Austin wants to get married there, they would have to wait 18 months. 

Owen arrives on a motorcycle because of course Owen Strand is now the owner of a motorcycle. Now, I'm the BIGGEST Owen apologist there is, mostly because I absolutely adore Rob Lowe (watch Dog Gone ... you won't be disappointed). Owen Strand in his firefighter gear really, really does it for me. Owen Strand in head to toe leather ... doesn't do it to me. Plus, and I'm not body shaming or anything like that, Rob Lowe, who is an extremely fit man nearing his 60s, looks really small in all the leather.

Anywho, Owen is now the proud owner of a brand-spanking new motor bike and he even has a few new buddies to hang out with. Mostly everyone seems amused albeit a bit concerned by Owen's obvious mid-life crisis but I'm gonna cut Owen some slack. Looking back on season 3, Owen went through a lot of shit, some of it health-related. I say let him have his big boy toys!

Next up, we get a scene between Carlos and his mother, Andrea Reyes (Roxana Brusso) and let me say, I adore Carlos' mom. She had that motherly, no-nonsense vibe about her that reminds me so much of Eddie's abuela and Aunt Pepa in the original 9-1-1. Now, the one thing that was hinted at prior to the airing of this season, the one thing the entire Tarlos fandom has been talking about, is this deep dark secret that Carlos is suppose to be keeping from TK. While Carlos has lunch with his mother, he gets a call from the wedding venue telling him they have an opening in 8 weeks. When he doesn't seem too enthused about it, his mother deduces that he hasn't told TK 'the truth'. Carlos assures her he will finally share 'the truth' with Carlos. Then the sky turns a hazy shade of green and it starts to rain.

Over at the fairgrounds, we see actual frogs falling from the sky like something out of Exodus. Grace receives a 9-1-1 call from the same man we saw in the cold open. Not only is it raining frogs, a car plows into a poor lady sitting in a ticket booth. As the man reports the emergency, he looks up just as a frog falls. The frog falls into his mouth and goes down his throat while his daughter watches in horror.

The 126 arrive at the chaotic scene. The paramedics go to the aid of the man choking on a live frog while the firefighters tend to the lady who got run over. Tommy attempts to extract the frog from the man's throat but the frog slips further into his throat. As the man continues to choke, she goes to do the Heimlich and this actually works. Giant, tennis ball-sized hail starts to rain down so the firefighters huddle around the poor woman until it finally passes. The woman is placed on a backboard and it looks like she is going to be okay. When she looks up at the sky she sees the sun come out. 

Carlos is waiting for the 126 back at the station house and when they get back, he asks TK if he can talk with him in private. We are further delayed from this big secret when we see that Carlos has already told TK. TK paces back and forth as he processes the bombshell we still don't know about. Finally, we get to hear the big secret so allow me to give you the abbreviated version. Okay, here goes. Carlos is married, in name only, to Michelle Blake's (remember her) younger sister, Iris. Apparently Carlos and Iris were besties in high school and when Carlos came out, he really struggled with it, so his solution was to marry Iris. Carlos never got a divorce because Iris struggled with her mental health and went missing. He assures TK he thought Iris was dead but now that he knows she's alive, his health insurance is helping her afford the medicine for her schizophrenia. Whew, that was a lot!

I felt really bad for TK because he is not given the time or space to fully process all of the information Carlos just dumped on him. This reminds me of when Judd found out last season that he has a teenage son. When he told Grace, we got to see her journey as she processed this information and what it meant for her and Judd, and their relationship, and their family. TK insta-forgives Carlos for failing to tell him that he's already married and he immediately jumps into fix-it mode. I'm sorry, perhaps I'm a big immature or petty or whatever you want to call it, but I don't know if I could even be in the same room with Carlos after hearing that news. I would feel so betrayed and not because he is married or married to a woman. I would feel betrayed because if the situation was flipped, TK would have been duly punished for hiding something so big. It also makes Carlos jealousy towards TK's sponsor seem super hypocritical. All I can say is, TK Strand is a better person than me!

And now it's time for a science lesson! We learn from a meteorologist that the huge storm that popped up out of nowhere and rained down frogs and hailed is called a derecho. We also learned there is a chance for a mild heat burst which could cause a rise in air temperature as well as gusty winds, however, we are immediately assured the chance of something like this happening is one in a million. You might want to file that tidbit of info away for the next scene.

We head back over to the fair and we see the same man who nearly choked to death on a frog and his daughter get on a ferris wheel. We are now back at the beginning of the episode. The mild heat burst hits causing several balloons to pop and the ice cream cone in Brianna's hand to melt. Several people start passing out due to the intense heat and the mechanisms controlling the ferris wheel malfunction causing the man and his daughter to get trapped in one of the cars on the ferris wheel. 

Meanwhile, Grace receives a 9-1-1 call from Caleb who is stuck in the porta potty. He is unable to tell her where he is located, however, he does let her know the portable toilet is slowly filling up with blue water. Grace tells Caleb that the water has chemicals in it which contain formaldehyde and they are giving off toxic fumes. Yikes!!! Thankfully the 126 are back and Grace lets them know about Caleb. Since his phone signal is still registering as being on the fairgrounds, they know that he didn't fly away too far. They do manage to find him in the dunking booth. They are able to get him out but he has to be revived. Caleb survives and Brianna declares her love for him. All I can say is Mr. Caleb must have nine lives and we've already seen him use three of them.

The next order of business is rescuing the frog-gobbler and his daughter at the top of the ferris wheel. The 126 use a tarp as a net and Owen yells for the man and his daughter to jump down. The daughter hesitates and frankly I don't blame her. It's one thing to fall several feet onto something inflatable but falling down on a piece of tarp being held by a handful of firefighters is a completely different thing. One of the funniest parts of this episode is when the man pushes his daughter out of the ferris wheel car and all I kept thinking is, ten years from now she's going to be talking about this very moment with her therapist. The man jumps next but since he weighs a lot more than the little girl, he crashes through the tarp. Thankfully he hit the tarp before it ripped otherwise that would've ended nasty!

Tommy tends to the man and his daughter in the triage tent and we learn his name is Trevor Parks (D.B. Woodside) and his daughter's name is Melody. Trevor has recently gotten a divorce and has relocated to Austin. There is chemistry between Tommy and Trevor and Nancy sees it. She encourages her captain to make a move. Tommy walks over to Tony and gives him her number and mentions that Melody is around the same age as her daughters and they should do a play-date. Trevor asks if it will be a play-date or a date-date and I was like, Tommy, jump his bones now! I am so on board for this pairing! Plus Trevor has a shaved head just like our dearly-departed Charles. Tommy tells Trevor she is fine with either one before she walks off. 

Carlos goes to visit Michelle Blake but learns that she's left on an outreach mission to Ecuador (and Liv Tyler is back in merry ole England living her best life). Carlos does find Iris, who is looking pretty healthy since the last time we saw her, and she slaps him. I didn't feel bad for Carlos at this moment because it needed to be done. The two of them do some catching up and Carlos tells her he's engaged and that he plans on getting married. Iris sees the writing on the wall and she tells Carlos that before she signs the divorce papers, she needs to meet TK. Something tells me she's not going to give over her John Hancock so easily. 

Perhaps the funniest part of the episode comes when Owen convinces Judd to go to a bar where his new riding buddies are gathering. When they get there, a young man named Mikey introduces himself to Owen and says it's an honor to meet 'an American hero and patriot'. He then asks if Owen was really involved in 9-11. Another guy named Red tells Owen to excuse Mikey and his excitement. He says that the Honor Dogs revere first responders. It is at this moment that I knew exactly what was going on and it was so funny to watch Owen and Judd figure it out. When Mikey is inducted into the Honor Dogs and branded, that is Owen and Judd's cue to leave because while the two of them may enjoy riding bikes, they are not down with white supremacy. 

The episode ends with Tommy attending church with her girls, Judd, Grace, and baby Charlie. The current minister introduces the congregation to the newest minister - Trevor Parks. Tommy is completely modified but honestly I don't see anything wrong. Ministers can date and since he's divorced and Tommy's widowed, I don't see why they can't see each other. This is something Tommy's clearly going to struggle with during this season. Also, Owen receives a visit from Special Agent Rose Kacey who wants to talk to the FBI about his new 'associates'. Dun-dun-dun! End of episode!

This was a fantastic start to a new season of 9-1-1: Lone Star. I'm glad both franchises are veering away from the huge, multi-episode disasters we've become accustomed to. Frankly at this point, there's not many natural disasters we haven't tackled on these shows. I do feel like we need to get a hurricane at some point though. As far as the Tarlos drama, I'm not really a fan. The whole Carlos is married to Iris news came out of nowhere and while I think it's great we are being reintroduced to a character from season one, it's just yet more drama for TK and Carlos to deal with and their whole relationship has been wrought with drama. Give them a break! 

I am deeply amused with Owen's storyline. Owen really took a backseat in this episode which was nice since a lot of you haters be coming after him complaining about how he gets too much screen time even though he is played by Rob freaking Lowe who is the reason most people even tuned into this show in the beginning. I am wondering what's going to happen next with Owen and this white supremacist group. Something tells me it's nothing good. 

I'm really excited about Tommy Vega getting her groove back. Last season we got to see her mourn the loss of Charlie. I think Trevor would be a good partner for her. They're both in the business of helping people. Tommy deserves to be happy and whether that happens with or without Trevor, I'll be happy either way. Can't wait to see what happens next.

Well, that's it for this episode's reaction. It looks like season four of Lone Star is going to be a good one. It looks like the next episode is going to go full-tilt into the white supremacist/terror plot. Until next time ...

#911 lone star reaction #tv reaction #911 lone star reaction 2023 #911 lone star #fox 911 lone star #blw reactions #blw reactions 2023 #911 ls 4x01 #911 ls s4 #rob lowe #gina torres #db woodside #ronen rubinstein #tv reaction 2023

[iricathel]

RUKINA 🛐💕

Who initiates kisses?

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Who gets jealous easier?

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

— SHIP QUESTIONS

Who initiates kisses?

They can both start it just fine, but usually Ruki tries to be the first most of the time, for dominance reasons. However, Irina usually has a lot of initiative too, although this is more because she likes to shield affection.

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

It was pretty obvious that Ruki would use Livestock or even Pet, but this is just used to tease or mock Irina while they have a little argument; Darling is another nickname that he uses to tease in public just like Irina, however, he can also use Dragă mea (dear, darling) already in a more serious situation, but it is very rare for him to use pet names.

On the other hand, Irina always uses different nicknames but her favorite and most serious is Cœur (sweetheart), although if you feel humorous that day you can try nicknames like Ru-ru or Ruks, Rukitty-kun and even Ruchky (the last one is a play of words, since 'Ruki' in Russian means hands [руки] and 'ruchky' [ручки] translates in Russian as 'little hands'; you can tell this is to playfuly make fun of him).

Who gets jealous easier?

Ruki obviously. Irina is not jealous ass with him since she can have a calm soul seeing his extreme loyalty and his indifferent and cold attitude with which he treats other women who could approach him, so Irina doesn't even bat an eye; however, Ruki can get annoyed by a few words, approach or physical contact that he sees inappropriate and begin to heat his blood of jealousy like a kettle of soup.

We all know he's a jealous and possessive man.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

They both already had experience with other people, so neither of them had their first kiss, partner, date or 'first time' with the other. The only thing that is the first time for them is finding someone really loyal and having a relationship where the love is reciprocal.

#aw this was so cute to write 😩 #They are a slightly toxic couple but they are usually so wholesome too AHAHAHAHA #meme prompt #ship #rukina

[disasterofastory]

Hands (Uhtred x Reader x Finan)

Hands Uhtred x Reader x Finan Warnings: throuple relationship, mention of death, smut

Uhtred and Finan can’t get enough of you.

Your relationship with Uhtred changed after he came back from the slave ship. At first, you didn’t even notice it. Your heart was filled with sorrow for the man, who was so loyal to your husband and always so kind to you. Halig deserved better than death as a slave, but you didn’t have time to lament on it. Your husband was at home. He was skinny and weak but alive. His pale skin was covered in wounds, and you could feel every bone under his skin as you helped him with lotions and herbs. And you nurtured his friend back to health too. The Irishman was respectful and, despite his horrible past, funny too. As he got better, he got louder and cheekier. He became an important part of your life without you noticing.

And the recognition slapped you in the face.

You loved Finan. You loved Uhtred.

You lived with knots in your stomach for weeks. You were a flustered mess around their company, and you couldn’t look at them without the burning love and guilt. At nights, you slept with your husband, and in the mornings, you welcomed the Irishman with a peck on his cheek. And your husband didn’t find it weird. You looked at him often when Finan got too close to you, but Uhtred's face stayed happy and friendly. And you didn’t have to wait long for the explanation.

They loved each other. And they loved you too at the same time.

Uhtred was painfully plain and straightforward the night when he told you about his feelings for his friend and you. After all, he was a Dane. He didn’t like to beat around the bush if it came to love and intimacy. You and Finan were a blushing mess as you looked at each other from time to time. In the end, the man followed your husband’s lead and told you about his feelings, and after it, you couldn’t deny your love for them. And Uhtred being Uhtred didn’t waste more time to devour you on the table in the Great Hall. He played with you, teasing Finan at the same time. Your new lover was shy at first, and Uhtred enjoyed his control immensely. That night was passionate and new.

You sit between your two men. The Great Hall is already empty beside you. The soup you made not long ago is still warm and smells great, but you can’t eat. Both of your hands are occupied, and you want to laugh at the sight. Your arms lay on the table with Finan’s and Uhtred’s hands between your fingers. Their skin is hot and hardened from the hard work, but their touches are gentle. “Boys,” you murmur as you look at them alternately. They hum back to you, but they don’t look up from their bowl. “I would like to eat too,” you try again. They look up at your words, seeing your hands. “I don’t know,” Uhtred hums playfully. “It’s comfortable, no?” He asks, looking over to Finan, who reciprocates his sly smile. “It is,” Finan nods. “It would be a shame to change it.” You laugh mockingly at them, trying to escape from their hold but feeling your movements, they grab on you gets harder. “I’m hungry,” you complain, still trying to escape from their fingers. “Fine,” Uhtred sighs as if doing a great favor.

They let go of your hands so you can start to eat, but soon their hands find your thighs under the table. You almost jump at their warm touch, and you had to force yourself not to fidget as they pull your dress up on your legs. Goosebumps run over your skin from the cold air before they move again, and their warm palms find their places on your bare thighs. You look up at them sharply, but you don’t stop their movements. Your hunger is forgotten as Finan pets your leg till he reaches between your thighs. He pulls on your soft skin to spread your legs, and you obey. The spoon is frozen in your hand as you focus on their touches. Uhtred hold gets harder to keep you in place while Finan's hand goes up to your panties. He pulls aside the damp fabric to reach your folds, and you almost moan at his warmth on you. He plays with you with a greedy smile on his kissable lips, looking up and down on your flustered form. “Are you not hungry anymore?” Uhtred asks you slyly. “You know the answer,” you snap at him with a big gulp of air. Your legs spread more on their own to give the Irishman more access to your pussy. Your chest moves rapidly as you lean back on the chair and drop the spoon from your fingers. “Maybe we should let you eat,” Finan teases you, and you gaze at him madly. If he dares to stop, you will strangle him. “You are really wet,” Uhtred notes when his hand moves next to his boyfriend’s. Finan still plays with your folds while Uhtred’s fingers find their way into your warmth. Your skin burns and your stomach is full of pleasurable knots. Uhtred adds two more fingers as he moves in and out of you. Your head falls back on the chair, and your eyes close on their own accord. You feel Finan’s other hand on your breast as he pulls down the green fabric to have access to your bare skin. His lips are warm, kissing down on your collarbone till he reaches your nipple. His wet tongue plays with you in sync with his fingers. “Boys,” you moan warningly, feeling your high coming. Uhtred starts to pull in and out of you faster, he almost pushes you backward on the chair, and Finan's lips move to suck on your nipple. The knots burst in your stomach as the heat spreads over your whole body. You mewl their names, closing your legs with their hands still between your legs. The pleasure doesn’t last forever, and the numbness replaces the warmth. When you come to your senses, Uhtred and Finan already adjusted your dress and continued eating. “Come on,” Finan turns to you. He can’t hide his cheeky smile as he looks at you. “Eat,” he nods to your bowl. “We are not done yet,” Uhtred adds, placing his hand back to your thigh mostly innocently.

At least for now.

#the last kingdom imagine #the last kingdom x reader #the last kingdom smut #uhtred x reader #uhtred imagine #uhtred smut #finan x reader #finan imagine #finan smut #uhtred x reader x finan

[bobafetts-princess]

Hunt Me

Summary: You and Mando are struggling to catch a bounty which makes you wonder how long you could stay hidden from the notorious bounty hunter. What happens when he catches you?

Pairings: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: smut, fingering, smartass reader, slight bondage, dirty talk, Din Djarin using pet names, predator/prey dynamic. Reader is definitely bisexual as am I

Word Count: 4K

A/N: Hey! This is my first fic on tumblr in YEARS so go easy on me 🤣 I hope you guys like this, it was inspired by @tibbietibbs fic called The Bet so please enjoy! Also we support sex workers in this house thx

“Mando.” You prodded, legs crossed in the passenger seat of the Razor Crest as the Child slept next to you in his pod. A bowl of soup sat on your lap, remnants of your dinner you shared with the kid before he crashed out. “Mando.” You asked again, because he ignored you the first time. His helmet turned towards you slightly and you knew that it was the go ahead to ask your question.

“Why can’t we find this guy?”

“He’s smarter than I anticipated.”

“Are we leaving in the morning?”

“If someone will fuel the ship.”

“Do you think we’ll catch him? He seems pretty crafty.”

“Why do you have so many questions?” He snapped and you took the cue to shut your mouth. You were marooned on the planet of Takodana with no fuel and no help, until a fueling center opened in the morning. There was a town near where you’d landed, full of seedy places and bars and you’d heard that your bounty was here, only to find he’d disappeared the moment you arrived on the planet. The Mandolorian was frustrated with being unable to catch his bounty, temper shorter than usual. A thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t help but say his name again.

“Mando.” You prodded once more, wishing you knew his real name. You’d asked him one time, and he didn’t speak to you for three days unless it was regarding the welfare of the Child. He didn’t acknowledge you and you weren’t surprised, but you were discouraged. Your relationship with the Mandalorian had been improving, with you acting as a nanny to the child. The two of you shared evenings together and even the occasional laugh.

Recently you’d even shared some flirtations and you wondered what the Mandalorian would be like in bed. It was inappropriate thoughts of course, but you couldn’t help but have them. His gruff voice and thick thighs haunted your dreams and often you woke soaked through with a sweat that required a few minutes to yourself. You started to wonder if he felt the same way, but with how short he’d been with you this evening, you were certain he didn’t.

“Mando.” You prodded again and he turned his whole body in his chair to give you a look that you’d be willing to bet money on was a glare.

“So obviously we can’t catch this guy.” You started and he started to turn his body away from you with an irritated grunt. “Do you think I’d be this difficult to catch?” You asked him, words rushing from your lips and the Mandalorian sat back in his captains chair with a huff.

“No.” Came the answer a minute later.

“Okay that’s fair.” You nodded to yourself. You’d heard tales from Greef Karga and Cara Dune the one time you met them about the Mandolorians tracking and hunting abilities. And not for the first time, you wondered what it would be like to be tracked by him, and how long you could stay hidden. The thought had you clenching your thighs together and you carefully chose your next words.

“So, how long do you think it would take you to catch me?” You asked and you saw his body seize, as if that was the last thing he expected you to ask. He didn’t even turn towards you when he answered, gravelly voice crackling through the vocoder.

“One hour. Maybe an extra half hour if I gave you a head start.”

“An hour? You cannot be serious! There’s no way I would be that easy to catch.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest in indignation.

“It’s not that you’d be easy, it’s that I know what you’d do.” He told you, body finally turning to face yours.

“What makes you think that? You don’t know everything about me.”

“No, but I think I’d know how you’d think if you were on the run.”

“I’d like to test your theory. I’ll bet it takes you at least two hours to get me back on the ship.”

“I’ll take that bet.” He told you, moving to stand over you and put the cover on the Child’s pram. He leaned down, his beskar helmet leaning close to your ear. “I’ll even give you the head start.” He told you. You took a hard swallow, shifting in your chair, and had to put effort into speaking your next words.

“Fine. But we need a couple rules. One, no guns. I don’t think you’d actually shoot me, but stun guns aren’t fair either.” He cocked his head to the side as if that was obvious. “Two, I want the full experience, I would like to know if I would survive if I was actually being hunted. And three, we need to keep a com in the pram so we know if the Child wakes. If he wakes, the whole thing is off.” You finished.

“Fine. What do you want if you manage to win?” His tone made it clear that he didn’t think that would happen.

“I want to pilot the Crest one time.” You told him.

“No.” Came the short answer you expected.

“What’s the matter, Mando? Afraid you’ll lose?” You taunted, knowing he couldn’t resist the challenge.

“Fine. But don’t be shocked when I have you back on this ship in less than an hour. You have 20 minutes before I start hunting. Better hurry.” His voice was so rough, so gravelly, that you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together at the sound. You lept from your chair, leaving the Child for Mando and brushed past him. Your chest brushed over his arm on your way out and he reached over, wrapping his fingers around your elbow.

“Be careful. There are lots of creatures who would like to get their hands on you. Take something for protection and signal the coms if you get into trouble. I’ll find you.” You nodded, swallowing thickly at the close proximity and his dark promise. “And if at any point it gets to be too much for you to handle, say aaray. It means pain in Mando’a. I’ll know to stop.” You nodded again, and he released you so you could dash to your quarters.

You dressed quickly, pulling out a black robe with thigh high slits and a black hood, with a low plunging neckline. You knew Mando had never seen you in it, so you were hoping it would confuse him enough to let you win. You strapped on two thigh holsters, one with a knife and the other with a stun gun and pulled your hair back out of your face. You grabbed thick, heavy, black boots and you were out the door of the Crest in under 5 minutes. You sped down the nearest pathway leading towards the town, stopping only when the Crest was out of view to put on your boots.

You pulled up the hood of your robe and hurried quickly through town before realizing you needed to stop and put together a plan. You thought that Mando would be expecting you to hide, laying low and avoiding large crowds so you didn’t make a scene. So you decided to do the opposite and made your way to a bar that was loud and rowdy.

You were shocked when you walked in, knowing that Mando would never expect to find you in a place like this. It was a topless bar, with servers and bartenders not wearing any tops and dancers completely in the nude, spinning expertly on poles. There were men everywhere and you were worried that they might also take you for a dancer and proposition you as such. You didn’t see anything wrong with it, but you held eyes for only one man and that man was currently hunting you. But thankfully for you, there were so many women in the place that no one noticed one more.

You quickly got a drink at the bar, tossing a few credits down for the drink and a few more as a tip to the pretty girl who passed it to you. There was a small booth next to a side entrance, perfect for one person to sit alone and observe. You sat, simultaneously watching the door for a glint of silver and watching the dancers routines. They were truly experts of their craft and you marveled the strength of their bodies.

Also women are pretty.

Your drink was almost finished and you knew your head start time had run out, so you patiently waited to see a flash of the beskar armor at the front entrance. It took Mando longer to appear than you’d expected and as time on the clock ticked by, you got more and more hopeful for a win.

You knew Mando would find you regardless, it was just a matter of getting you back to the ship before the time limit and you were willing to wait that out. After what felt like ages, Mando entered the club, and you knew the second he did. The air left the room and a pathway parted as he made his way in. You smiled, knowing this was only the beginning, and waited until he noticed you.

You smirked at him, watching his body freeze as he tried to decipher your next move, and you were off like a shot into the night. You darted down pathways, taking turns at random until you thought you might have lost him. You crouched down next to a barrel, struggling to catch your breath when you heard footsteps. Taking off in the direction opposite them, you sprinted along the cobblestones until you hit a problem. A dead end. You wedged yourself into the corner, back turned to the ally, hoping your black cloak would blend you into the darkness.

Only when you felt a hard beskar chest plate against your back did you realize what a terrible idea it had been.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” His voice crackled in your ear and something hard pressed up against your backside. You thought it was his codpiece, until you remembered that he didn’t wear one. The realization as to what was pressing against you had you gasping and it took almost too many seconds for you to realize he had the binders in one hand and your right wrist in the other.

But unfortunately for him, he didn’t know all your secrets. Your father had been a clone trooper deserter during the Clone Wars, and had stressed upon you the importance of self-defense. He taught you extensive hand to hand combat and the appropriate way to use a blaster, knife, and spear. So you wiggled your shoulders, trying to find the best angle to get out of Mando’s grasp and he stopped.

“We can stop if you want. I don’t want to hurt you.” After a brief tug in your chest that he didn’t want to hurt you, you used his momentary hesitation against him. Twisting out from under his grasp with a sharp elbow to his side between plates of armor, you freed your hands. His answering grunt made you feel successful as you slid your feet, trying to best gauge your options. His beskar would hurt if you made contact, which only left a few options open for you to attack.

He began to stalk towards you, a low growl in his throat that had you clenching. He was irritated that you managed to get free and he didn’t see it coming. Your best option was to try and land shots between his plates of armor, so that was your goal. The two of you engaged in some hand to hand before you managed to sweep the leg. He went down hard, but managed an arm around your waist, pulling you down on his hips and straining erection.

“Is that a blaster in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” You taunted, and you had no clue where this bravado was coming from. He rolled your bodies, smashing your smaller frame beneath his larger one. You breathed heavily, gathering all your strength and landing a shot on the inside of the elbow supporting his weight and knocking him off balance. You rolled your bodies again, grunting with the effort. Scrambling to get off him before he recovered, you had one foot on the pavement and the other in the air when he managed to get ahold of you. You fell in a huff, hands taking the brunt of your fall as the Mandalorian crawled his way up your body, dragging his hard, heavy, cock along your body as he did.

“You won’t manage that twice.” He said, and you were pleased to hear him breathing heavy with the effort.

“Do you get hard catching all your bounties, Mandalorian?” You taunted as he stretched your hands above your head. He attached binders to one wrist and you wriggled underneath him, feeling the weight of him rest against you.

“Keep quiet.” He warned, but you were enjoying yourself. You were definitely soaked with arousal and his was plain as day.

“Do you fuck any of your bounties, Mando? Claim them with your cock before you turn them over? Or am I special?” You asked, voice filled with arousal at the idea of him fucking you after tracking and catching you. He’d gotten the other binder on while you were speaking and his fingers lingered over your wrists.

“That mouth will get you into trouble one day.” He said, fingers trailing down your cheek and rubbing over your lower lip.

“Good. That was my goal.” You told him and he hauled you up by the arm. “What’re you gonna do with me now, bounty hunter? Fuck me against a wall?” You asked, not quite ready to give up the ruse. Your words annoyed him, you could sense the tension rolling off of his shoulders as he pulled something from his belt and slapped it on the wall above your head. You didn’t know what it was until he hit a button on the binders and they magnetized themselves to the small square. The force with which you hit the wall knocked all the breath out of you and the Mandolorian took advantage of your silence.

“Not so chatty now, are you?” He said, his hard body pressing up against yours as his fingers gripped your chin. “I’ll bet this is what you wanted, isn’t it? Dirty girl.” He said and you blushed because he was right. You’d hoped this would be the thing that broke the sexual tension the two of you had, and judging by the way he was rutting against your thigh, you hadn’t been wrong. His hands bunched in the fabric of your robe, pulling it to the side and brushing his fingers along your core. “No underclothes??” He asked, incredulous. Shaking your head, you answered.

“They would show.”

“Even through my gloves, I can tell how wet you are.” He said, dipping his fingers through your wetness and then pulling them out to examine them. They were soaked, your slick sticking to the leather of the gloves like a second skin. He brought those fingers to your mouth, and uttered one word.

“Suck.”

So you did.

The taste of yourself, combined with the fact that you were bound and in public had you moaning against his fingers.

“That’s a good girl.” He praised you, the leather rough against your tongue. He had three of them in your mouth, slipping slowly in and out of your mouth just like if it was your cunt.

“You like this, don’t you?” He asked you, the hand that wasn’t in your mouth palming your breast. Mouth full, you couldn’t answer, so you just nodded. You whimpered when his finger left your mouth, only to groan when they slipped the V of your robe to the sides and exposed your breasts to the cool night air.

“You like it too. Don’t try to tell me you don’t.” You snapped, inhaling sharply when he pinched a nipple in response. “I’ll bet you were hard against your armor the second I suggested you hunt me.” You told him, knowing you needed to shut your mouth but for some reason you just couldn’t.

“You talk too fucking much.” He told you, pulling his gloves off and tucking one in his utility belt. You opened your mouth to ask him what he was planning on doing with the other, when he seized the opportunity to shove it in your mouth. Startled, you let out a noise deep in your throat that ended as a moan as you tasted yourself again, a sweet and salty taste mixed with the tang of the leather.

“That’s better.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “So wet for me.” He whispered, dragging his fingers back through your folds. They found your nub, circling it in a way that had you bucking your hips. “I’d like to see you suck my cock, but I don’t think we have the time.” His words hit a spot deep inside your core, and you needed more. One arm hooked under your knee, lifting it and opening you up for him as he raised your robes.

“What’s this?” He asked, fingering the holsters and the self-protection items you had hidden there. You shrugged, unable to speak, and he moved his fingers north, finally sinking one into your dripping wet core. Your head slammed back into the stone wall at the feeling but you still needed more. He entered a second finger, pumping slowly. “Do you like keeping weapons on you?” He asked, visor trained where you kept the small knife. You nodded, it made you feel dangerous. His fingers set a punishing pace and you were clenching around him sooner than he anticipated.

“I don’t think so, pretty girl. You’ll come when I tell you to.” You groaned around the leather of the gloves and fought off your orgasm. He pulled his fingers from you, dropping your thigh and taking the glove out of your mouth.

“Suck.” He instructed and shoved his fingers in your mouth. Your tongue tasted your own arousal, salty and sweet at the same time. “I’ll bet you suck a good cock baby girl. One of these days I’ll bury myself down that pretty throat.” He mumbled, second hand stroking lovingly along the hollow of your throat. The pads of his fingers drug along your tongue and you moaned at the feeling. He pulled them out, gagging you with the glove again. His other hand dipped to circle your clit, causing you to buck your hips against him. You ached to touch him, to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and dig your fingernails in.

“Think you can take my cock, pretty girl?” And you nodded enthusiastically. Your body was aching to be filled and were thrilled when he hooked your leg again and opened you up to him. He tossed your robes over your hip, leaving you bare and exposed, as he rubbed himself along your folds. Your hips bucked at the feeling and he pulled your other leg up to wrap around his middle, effectively trapping his length between your bodies.

“Fuck I can’t wait to see what you feel like.” He said, hand situating himself so he was right at your entrance. He started the push in, the burn of the stretch making you moan. He pulled the glove out with a compromise.

“If you talk too much, I’ll gag you again. But I want to hear you moan.” Your breath came out in whimpers as he stretched you until he bottomed out, resting his helmet against your forehead. “Ready?”

“Fuck. Mando. Yes.” Was your answer. He started a brutal pace that pushed you up the wall as he entered and slid you down the wall as he pulled out. His fingers pinched your nipples, hands kneading your breasts and you cried out.

“Quiet, girl. Don’t want us to get caught, do you?” He asked but you were too buried in pleasure to answer. “Unless you want that. Want everyone to see how good you take my cock?” He grunted in your ear and all you could do was whimper in response. His fingers circled your clit harshly, making you clench around him.

“Mando. Mando. Mando. Please let me cum Mando please.” You begged, chest heaving from fighting off your impending orgasm.

“Din. Call me Din.” He whispered and your chest seized at the fact that he told you his name. “You’re going to say that name when you cum, pretty girl.”

“Yes Din.” You breathed.

“Now cum.” He instructed and you did, hard. You panted his name, mouth open as he continued to pound into you.

“I’m gonna cum in this sweet pussy.” He told you, thrusts getting sloppy as he reached his end.

“Please cum in me Din. I want to feel you fill me up.” You begged for his cum like a common slut but seconds later he was burying himself in you as thick ropes of cum coated your walls. His helmet rested on the wall by your arms as you both came down from your high, chests heaving.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” You shook your head as he gently lowered you to the ground and de-magnetized your binders. You reached out for him to take them off but he didn’t, instead hoisting you over his shoulder and adjusting your robes so your pussy wasn’t hanging out.

“What the fuck?” You exclaimed as his hand gripped your inner thighs, stained with your combined arousal.

“This is how I take in all my bounties. You’re no different.” He told you and you could feel the chuckle in his voice. You huffed a noise of indignation and smacked his back as best you could with your bound hands. You could feel his cum leaking out of you as he walked and were almost thankful that he was carrying you.

“So what do you want? Since you won?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” He responded and your cheeks flushed with the knowledge that fucking you was his prize. You were quiet the rest of the walk through town, only speaking again when he slid you over his shoulder when you reached the ship.

“How did you find me?” He fixed you with a look that made you feel like the answer should be obvious, but it wasn’t. At your curious glance, he responded.

“I told you. I know how you’d play it.”

“And how did I play it?”

“Well, I assumed your first instinct would be to find somewhere quiet to hide, but you were planning on fighting that instinct because you wanted me to be off balance. I knew you’d find the loudest and most obnoxious place to hide and I wasn’t wrong. The disguise was good, the fighting was better. I didn’t expect you to know how to fight. If it had been someone besides me, you’d have gotten away.” You preened at his praise as he unlocked the binders, and you moved immediately to check on the child. He was fine, obviously, snoring in his pod like nothing had happened. You sighed, heading towards your quarters to freshen up and change but a strong arm on your forearm stopped you.

“Keep that robe on. I’m not done with you yet.”

Masterlist | Taglist

#din dijarin fanfiction #din djaren #din dijarin #the mandolarian #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #the Mandalorian smut #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin x you

[august-anon]

On Love’s Light Wings

Alright if you’ve look at my blog the past three days you’d know that I’ve been obsessively rereading Carry On/finally reading Wayward Son lol. 

I wrote this inbetween finishing Carry On and starting Wayward Son yesterday, so it’s not really canon compliant with how we learn their relationship has been fairing in the interim, but who cares because that’s all pain and I’m here to write about fluff lol.

----

Fandom: Carry On/Simon Snow

Ship(s): SnowBaz

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Simon/Ler!Baz

Word Count: 2887 words

Summary: Simon and Baz are having a quiet moment together under the stars, and Baz discovers something interesting about Simon's wings.

[ao3 link]

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

                               Baz

Things became a right mess, after the whole ordeal with the Mage and the goatherd (Ebb, Snow would tell me. Her name was Ebb.) and the Humdrum.

We were questioned and carted around, barely getting a chance to breathe. Everyone wanted to know what happened, and once they knew, it was time to get the kids out of the way so the adults could handle it. 

I went home to my family. Snow went home with Bunce.

It was hard for a while, getting a chance to see each other. Simon and I would steal moments, when we were called to meetings together. We would sneak away, hold hands. Sometimes we would kiss.

But Simon had drawn back. I wasn’t surprised, with everything that had happened, I would’ve been more surprised if he hadn’t. But he drew into himself and wouldn’t come back, and I didn’t know how to help. Kisses were chaste and brief, hand-holding was tight and desperate, and most everything else was off the table.

He’d flinch away from my touch anywhere else.

It had hurt, but I had spent nearly half my lifetime hurting for Snow. I could do it a little while longer. And my patience paid off. Snow healed, albeit slowly. He started letting us -- me and Bunce, he had even shut her out after everything -- back in. I was able to see him more often, sneaking away from Watford for the weekends. I was allowed to place my hand in the middle of his back, on his neck, his stomach, his sides, his legs.

But there were two things I could never touch (or maybe it was three, if you counted them as separate limbs), that no one could ever touch, and frankly, I couldn’t find it in myself to blame Snow for that. His wings and his tail were a delicate matter. A harsh reminder. I teased him about them once and he didn’t speak to me for three weeks. I’ve learned my lesson now, I won’t tease him about them until he’s ready.

We’re curled up on the hood of my car, now, the echoing heat of the previously-running engine keeping us warm in the chilly early-spring night. Well, keeping Snow warm. Vampires don’t need to keep warm like humans do. We’re already so cold. 

I’ve got my arms wrapped around him -- in the middle of his back, carefully placed in the space between where the bases of his wings end and where his tail sprouts from his tailbone -- and he’s got his head on my chest and we’re staring up at the sky. I don’t think either of us has said anything since we got situated on the hood, but I don’t mind, and I doubt Simon does either.

Instead I sigh -- it ruffles his curls, makes them tickle my nose, but I don’t mind -- and pull him even closer.

                              Simon

I don’t think Baz knows he’s doing it. He’s got his hands between my wings and my tail -- and that’s something I’ve really appreciated these past months, Baz doesn’t push like Penny does, he doesn’t even ask when I’m going to let him touch them -- but they’re brushing up and down. I think it's a subconscious movement, because his fingers keep bumping against the base of my wings and he isn’t even reacting. Normally, he gives them a much wider berth.

I’m trying to hold still. I don’t want to break the moment, it’s peaceful and calm and quiet and everything we haven’t been able to have in a very long time, but it feels weird and it’s hard not to squirm. If I squirm, though, Baz will pull back. And he’ll ask questions. And maybe he won’t want to hold me again because he’ll be afraid of touching my wings -- not that Baz is afraid of much of anything.

But the thing is, maybe Baz isn’t afraid. Maybe he thinks my wings and tail are as weird and inconvenient as I do. Maybe he’s disgusted by them, and that’s why he’s never pushed to touch them like Penny has. Maybe he’s just being nice by staying with me as I mope around with these mutations sprouting from me.

No, that doesn’t make sense. Baz isn’t nice.

But what does make sense about our relationship?

                              Baz

Snow’s been slowly tensing up for minutes now. I can’t tell if he’s upset about something or just uncomfortable, and it’s infinitely harder to tell without being able to see his face. I wish I could sweep my hands up and down his back to let him know that it’s okay, but I’m not allowed to touch his wings and I’m not going to push.

Not like Bunce. I saw him shout at her the other week. Her curiosity is going to get her in trouble someday -- as if it already hasn’t.

But the thought does draw my attention to my hands, and I realize that they’re already moving. I don’t know how long they’ve been moving for. And I freeze when my fingertips brush against the base of Snow’s wings.

That’s why Simon’s been so tense.

Simon flinches when I freeze, and I try to calculate how big of a mistake I just made. I pull my hands away like I’ve been burned and Simon flinches again, this time pulling back from me.

I never apologize -- Pitches don’t apologize -- but for Simon I just might.

For Simon, I just might do a lot of things.

Simon’s bottom lip is drawn between his teeth when I’m able to finally get a glimpse of his face. He looks nervous and upset and confused, and I’m not sure what to do with that combination. Before all of this, I might’ve pushed. Tried to make him cry, upset him in every way possible because it was the only thing I knew how to do aside from love him.

I’m trying to learn how to do new things now, though.

“Simon,” I start, and he meets my eyes at the use of his first name. “I--”

But he doesn’t let me finish. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and blurts out his words like they’re vomit. Simon’s never been good with words, and that hadn’t changed in the months that they’d been dating.

“You-can-touch-them-if-you-want-to,” he says, and his words run and slur together like alphabet soup. I can barely understand him.

I stare at him, to make sure he really means it. To make sure he doesn’t feel like me or Bunce have pressured him into it, that he’s really giving me permission. Once upon a time, I wouldn’t have cared. But once upon a time, Simon didn’t love me back, and I wouldn’t go back to that time for anything.

“Unless--unless you don’t want to,” Simon tacks on, and I know what I have to do.

Instead of answering him, I slowly raise up a hand. Simon’s wings twitch and fan out, but they’re trembling like they want nothing more to squeeze back shut against his back. I move a little faster so they don’t do that before I get there.

His wings feel exactly like I expected them to. Warm and leathery. They don’t hum with magic like I expected them to, but that makes sense, because Simon’s magic is gone now. He’s never going to hum again, and I’m okay with that.

I still don’t know if he is.

Either way, he’s still my Simon.

His wings twitch more at my touch, my fingertips dragging across them. Simon makes an odd face in response, all scrunchy and kind of confused.

“All right, Simon?” I say, and it comes out softer than I meant it to.

Simon doesn’t acknowledge that. He nods. “It feels weird.”

I tilt my head. “Weird how? Weird bad?”

Simon shakes his head. “Just weird.”

I roll my eyes and make my touch a little firmer. As I continue to trail my hand across the wing, the angle gets awkward, and my touch becomes more fingernails than fingertips. Simon’s eyes bulge wide out of his head and he squeals. For the second time that night, I rip my hand away as though I’ve been burned.

“Simon?” I ask.

But Simon’s not listening to me. His eyes are locked on the wing I was touching, wide and nervous. I can’t tell if I hurt him. It’s frustrating. I don’t want to hurt him, anymore. 

                              Simon

This is absolutely unfair. I’d managed to hide it from Baz all these years. Penelope knew -- then again, Penny knew everything, it seemed -- and Agatha suspected, but Baz never knew.

His former mortal enemy, Simon Snow, is horribly, unbearably, stupidly ticklish. (And he maybe didn’t mind it as much as he would pretend to).

And of all the things to reveal that secret, it had to be my wings. Because it wasn’t enough that the rest of me was ticklish enough that a stray poke would send me rocketing into the ceiling, my magical wings were ticklish enough that Baz’s fingertips almost sent me flying away.

“Simon,” Baz says, and something tells me it isn’t the first time he’s said it. “Are you all right?”

And I want to deflect. I want to say it felt weird, or it hurt, or literally anything but the truth, but I can’t. Because Baz’s eyes are filled with guilt -- and I’ve gotten better at that lately, reading Baz’s emotions in his eyes when he refuses to show what he’s feeling on his face -- and I know he’s beating himself up over it. He probably thinks he actually hurt me.

“Fine,” I say, then I start stammering. I finally manage to force out, “Just tickled s’all.” I immediately regret it.

Baz looks like the cat who caught the canary.

                              Baz

Ticklish.

Simon Snow is fucking ticklish, and I never had any clue.

It makes sense why I didn’t, we were enemies after all, and that wasn’t exactly the kind of weakness you want your enemy to know. I don’t know if I would’ve used it against Snow if I had known, though. It was a rather intimate thing to do, and I had been in the business of touching him as little as possible unless it was a punch. Touching him could be quite painful, back when I was hopelessly in love with him.

It’s not quite so hopeless anymore.

I can hardly move fast enough in my excitement to know more. My hand instinctively goes for his wing, seeing as that’s what I’d been touching when I found out, but I stop just short of touching it. I’m not sure if touching it is still allowed.

Simon’s wing twitches into my touch. Based on the way Snow’s eyes go wide, I’d say that action wasn’t entirely under his control. Seems the wings have a bit of a mind of their own, or maybe they acted off of Snow’s subconscious impulses.

But I don’t care either way. Bunce could solve that mystery, she’s the one who likes to do that sort of thing.

All I care about is exploring this new world Snow’s opened up to me.

I trail my nails across Simon’s wing again and it twitches violently as he squeals again. I wiggle my nails with a little more purpose against the leathery skin and Simon breaks into actual giggles. A hand flies up to cover his mouth and I reach out and grab it with my free one, interlacing our fingers.

“None of that,” I say. “I want to hear you.”

“Baz!” Simon squeals, but I ignore him.

I decide that wiggling my fingers around aimlessly is going to get me nowhere. No, I need to seek out the real sensitive spots. I try to pull back the hand I’m holding Simon’s with, but he squeezes it tight in his grip. He’s probably realized what I plan to do with it. He always was good at sensing when I was plotting (though I suppose it’s not that hard when the answer is all the time).

It doesn’t matter though, because I can do what I want just as well with one hand. Simon doesn’t seem to realize he has a second hand fully capable of stopping me. It’s flailing around uselessly, and it’s disgustingly adorable.

Simon’s giggling gets louder and more frantic as I spider my nails up his wing, moving towards the base of it at his back. I can’t help the grin that comes to my lips, I just hope it doesn’t look as soppy and lovesick as I feel. Not that Simon would notice, his eyes are too scrunched up with laughter. His nose, too.

Once again: disgustingly adorable. It makes me sick.

Simon’s laughing deep from his belly, now, not just giggling anymore. It’s still getting worse the higher I go, so I don’t change directions. He actually wails in laughter when I get to the inside curve of his wing (it’s almost like an armpit, but for wings. Wingpit?), squirming so frantically that he collapses back into my chest. I can’t help but laugh with him.

I’ve heard Simon laugh before, but it’s gotten rarer and rarer as the years have passed. I haven’t heard it at all since the incident with the Mage and Ebb and the Humdrum, and it’s a refreshing sound. It’s like when you’re parched and you’re finally given a cold glass of water. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was until hearing it again.

                              Simon

Baz’s fingers are driving me mad. The touch is so light and teasing, it’s making my skin crawl. There are goosebumps all up and down my arms, and they’re not from the cold. I wish he would move to a different spot, or make his touch firmer, or something. It’s torture. The best kind 

I can barely breathe through my laughter, with the new sweet spot he’s found, and my stomach aches with the force of it. It’s invigorating. I didn’t realize how long it had been since I laughed until Baz forced it out of me. Not that I really minded.

I feel like I’m flying.

He’s laughing with me now, too, and it only makes me laugh harder. It’s not his usual sneering, cocky laugh that he always used to give me back in school, back before our truce. It’s more like the laugh he gave me when he was drunk -- or drunk on my magic -- light and bubbly and a little bit rough, like it’s out of practice.

Maybe I should tickle him back sometime. Get it back into practice.

But that’s the last coherent thought that I’m able to have before Baz’s fingers find a sweet spot inside the sweet spot. I’m lost to my cackling, the only thing on my mind being Baz’s tickling fingers. I wonder if it’ll drive me mad.

                              Baz

Snow’s laugh used to make me want to throttle him. Or at least punch him. It was just another reminder of what I couldn’t have, what I would never be able to have. Because Snow was my enemy and he was dating Wellbelove and we were going to kill each other someday.

Now, his laugh just makes me want to kiss him. It did that before, too, but I always buried it beneath the urge to beat on him. I’m allowed to kiss, now, though, and so the urge to punch him is gone. 

I feel like I’m floating.

And I really want to kiss him.

But he’s probably bound to run out of air, and I think it might be a little difficult to kiss his open, laughing mouth (even as much as the idea of swallowing his laughter into my own lungs is enticing), so I pull away. Simon goes boneless against me, panting and giggling, his wing still twitching from my lingering phantom touch. They furl up protectively against his back, and I get the urge to kiss them, too.

Maybe later.

For the time being, I satisfy myself with pressing my lips against Simon’s own, now that his breath has somewhat returned. Simon wastes no time in kissing me back, still with far more finesse than I can manage. I’m learning, though, and I’m clearly making progress based on the heady little noises he makes into my mouth.

I don’t need alcohol to feel drunk, or even Simon’s former magic coursing through me. I could get intoxicated on Simon alone. Not that I’d ever let him know that, he’d use it against me every chance he’d get. And I’d let him.

We spend the rest of our evening kissing under the stars, long after the hood of the car has gone cold under us. Simon’s wings wrap around us like a blanket, warm and smooth, and we keep kissing. The stars twinkle above them, painting beautiful shadows across Simon’s face. I trace them with my lips.

I have to be back at Watford in the morning. Simon has to be back at the Bunce’s before they notice he snuck out with me (though I imagine Penelope herself likely already knows). The world outside the little bubble we’ve created here continues to turn round, but we don’t have to rejoin it just yet.

For now, it can just be Simon and me, and everything can be all right.

#tickle fic #My writing #carry on tickling #lee!simon #ler!baz #ticklish!simon #carry on #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #Wing!fic

[s-creations]

In Sickness, In Health Chapter 2 - Common Cold & Sore Throat

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros          Rating: General Audience          Relationships/Pairings:  José  Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles   Additional Tags: getting sick, being cared for, mental health, injury, sore throat, common cold, chicken pox, broken bones, whooping cough, taking care of others.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

While people wouldn’t see it, Panchito’s job was filled with risk. Did he have to operate heavy machinery? No. Did he have aggressive people shouting at him to ‘see the manager’? No. But others tend to forget how intense kids could be.

They had energy to spare and short attention spans. Anything that moved pulled their attention and they wanted to touch everything. There was also the unfortunate bonus of seeming to carry every common illness known to mankind. Ones that didn’t seem to penetrate their immune system. Which meant that said germs would abandon ship for the nearest, weakest person. 

Namely a rooster that was exhausted from a work heavy month of performances. 

Panchito knew something was wrong the moment he woke up in the early hours of 2AM. Eyes crusted over and his head felt like something was beating against his skull that was also filled with rocks. The list of ailments only grew upon realizing he was his nose was closed and a deep, wet cough sounded as he attempted to breath. His throat felt like sandpaper. This was terrible. 

Donald was up the moment he heard the first cough. Going from a deep sleep to wide awake in a matter of seconds. “Chito?”

The rooster smiled weakly. “Hola…” 

The word barely came out. No voice either. How lovely. Donald was immediately waking José up, pushing a half lucid parrot from the room. Telling him to finish sleeping with the boys. Once the room was cleared, the duck was at Panchito’s side. Hands gently pressing on his forehead. “No fever.”

“Sore…”

“Stop talking. You sound terrible. ...Must have caught something from your last gig. You reported enough kids rubbing their noses to get me concerned.” 

Panchito merely hummed in response. Even that action hurt his throat. The duck pulled away, the bathroom light flinching on soon after. The sound of items being moved urgently before Donald returned once more. 

“Here, I got you some medicine. This should help you sleep for the rest of the night.’ 

The rooster mouthed a ‘Thank you.’ as he took the pills. Winching as each traveled down his throat. He put up no complaint as Donald climbed back into bed. Arms wrapping around with a hand reaching up to rub his chest. 

In no time at all, Panchito was out. 

__________________________________

“Tio José?”

The parrot grumbled weakly as he was woken up. A weight on his chest made him aware someone was resting on him. Louie, his sleep-addled mind provided. That’s right. He’d been pushed out with a quick explanation of Panchito being sick and to stay with the kids before the door was closed. He’d collapsed into Louie’s bed, then...fell back asleep, no doubt. 

Opening his eyes, José found Huey standing by the bed. Dewey hanging over from his bunk bed. Louie still asleep on the parrot’s chest. 

“Bom dia, meus queridos meninos.” 

“Are you okay?” The red cladded triplet asked. 

“Mmm… Your Tio Panchito is sick. Uncle Donald kicked me out  so I did not become sick as well.”

“Is it bad?” Dewey asked. 

“I heard a cough. But not much else.” José smiled softly as Louie let out a small groan. 

“Stop talking,” the green cladded triplet moaned softly, “Too early. Need sleep.” 

Huey crossed his arms. “It’s 8 in the morning Louie. If Tio Chito’s sick, then we need to help! I read that nutrition filled foods are helpful to combat illness. We should make a vitamin rich broth.” 

“Waffles!” 

“Dewey, waffles aren’t healthy.” 

“But they are delicious.” 

“Meninos bobos…” José yawned, cradling Louie close as he sat up to properly address the other two. “How about we make soup for Tio Chito and eggs for us? Save waffles for when everyone is able to eat them. Do not want Tio Chito to be upset.”

Dewey groaned, but conceded with a low. “Fine.”

The four of them shuffled out of the bedroom. Louie was still being held by the parrot as they made their way to the kitchen. Huey took the lead. Propping his JWG up and asking for help from José when he couldn’t reach something. The kitchen was soon filled with a delicious smell. A bowl filled with broth and a plate piled with eggs, bacon and toast being handed over to José. 

“These look wonderful Huey,” the parrot smiled, “Let me give these to your uncles and then we can eat.”

“Okay Tio José.” Huey laughed softly as his uncle preened the feather atop his head. 

The parrot knocked on the bedroom door gently. There was a quiet ‘Come in’ and José peeked in slowly. He found Donald and Panchito still in bed. The duck was awake, sitting up and scrolling through his phone. The bedside light on its lowest setting to provide some light. Panchito was still asleep. Arms wrapped around Donald’s waist with his head resting on the duck’s lap. 

“Bom dia, meu amor. I brought you breakfast. I would say for both of you, but I see Chito is still asleep.” José commented as he fully walked in.

Donald smiled softly, taking the plate and putting his phone to the side. “Thanks. You can try and wake him. He should eat.” 

The parrot hummed softly. Putting the bowl down before reaching out to rub between Panchito’s shoulders. “Chito? I have some breakfast for you.”

The initial response was a deep, wet cough. Panchito rubbed his eyes as he sat up slowly. “¿Qué hora es?”

“Good morning,” Donald spoke softly, “José brought you breakfast.” 

It was a bit of a task to get Panchito to sit up properly. The rooster seemed to have no energy to move on his own or keep himself upright. Eventually needed to be propped up against Donald and multiple pillows. 

“If you’re not better by tomorrow, we’re calling the doctor’s.” Donald commented as José handed the bowl over. To which Panchito merely hummed and then winced. “I got it from here José.”

“You sure?” The parrot asked. 

“Yeah. I’ll text if we need anything. But you should keep an eye on the boys.”

Sure enough, a loud clatter sounded from the kitchen. Quickly followed by ‘Tio José!’ from all three ducklings. José letting out a slow sigh.

“I see a movie marathon in our future for today. Get well Chito.” The parrot leaned over to place a kiss on either bird’s brows before leaving. Stern words were heard, but were muffled by the closed door. 

A routine was set up by the two in bed. Panchito was fed a few spoonfuls of broth before pausing to let his stomach settle. Donald took those moments to eat his own breakfast. The bowl was half way finished when the rooster refused more. 

“Do you need the bathroom?” Donald asked quickly. 

“No…just tired…”

“Take some more medicine before you sleep. It’ll help.” 

Panchito let out a groan when Donald slid from the bed. The warmth left as the duck made his way back towards the bathroom. Returning with a cup of water and pills in hand. Both of which the rooster downed quickly. Warmth soon returned as Donald climbed back into bed, when Panchito clambered too quickly. Rewarded with fingers preening his feathers. 

“Just sleep… You’ll be better soon.”

And even with the stuffed nose, sore throat, and pounding headache, Panchito smiled. Knowing he was going to be fine.

#donald duck #Jose Carioca #panchito pistoles #jose carioca/donald duck/panchito pistoles #The Three Caballeros #the three gay caballeros #s-creations #fanfiction

[rosesloveletters]

Self-Shipping Reference.

I have been debating on creating a self-shipping reference for these two, but since I am certain of our dynamic at this point, I wanted to delve right in; I love Will and Jakob so very much and I wanted to create a little collection of our relationship like I’ve done before in the past. Most of all, this is for me so that I can have it as a reference, so there is absolutely no obligation to interact with this post. If you do, thank you for showing us so much love and care, I really appreciate it more than anything. This community is so welcoming of self-shipping and that means a lot to me<3.

last updated: June 17, 2021

please do not read if you are not interested in or comfortable with self-shipping.

word count: 2,908

Ship name?

Our collective ship name is Grimmrose, for obvious reasons (my poly heart can hardly take it😭✨💛) 

I do not feel I should need to say this (as it should already be implied), but since I do not want angry anons in my ask box about this, I will state: Will and Jakob are not romantically involved in our dynamic; the love they have for each other is familial only. They both share me, but that is as far as it goes. There is absolutely no incestuous aspects of our relationship. 

Date you got together?

Jakob: May 26, 2021. The open honesty and security within our vulnerabilities were what prompted Jakob and I to jump in headfirst. We knew how we felt almost immediately; Jakob believes in love at first sight and I value that sentiment. It was a mutual understanding that the two of us were meant to be together (even if I hadn’t already known, the darling would have convinced me - he is extremely persuasive and given to a dreamer’s mindset.) The two of us easily came to an agreement on beginning a relationship because of how similar we have found ourselves to be. It was not difficult to access what each other was thinking and how we chose to approach those thoughts and feelings. Jakob is driven by those, after all, and his bright spirit and general interest in the things that cannot be so easily explained drew me to him. 

Will: 

Platonic:  May 26, 2021.

 Romantic: June 14, 2021. 

Will was, to my surprise, not as difficult to access as I expected. He has a much different personality to Jakob’s; the two are near opposite ends of the spectrum. Will’s mission has been to protect Jakob, mostly from himself, but Jakob does not understand that the reason Will is so hard on him is because Will feels helpless around him. Jakob’s mind is so bright and open, while Will does not understand how to compete with that nor how to understand or fit into Jakob’s world of folklore and mythical, magical beings. He feels weak in comparison to Jakob’s spirit; Will values my ability to cross those lines and connect with both him and Jakob. Will has never known another to be so well-suited for his brother and he is respectful of how we interact, since until now he has been the only one who has been able to reach Jakob. We were platonic for several weeks out of respect for Jakob, but soon entered into a mutual agreement to share the love that we all have for each other; the brothers agreed to share me since they have both developed such strong feelings. 

Favorite personality trait?

Jakob: His sense of security within vulnerabilities. Jakob is more given to childlike excitement and the thrill of action whenever it is of a magical quality. He fidgets, has a distinct nervous energy/uncomfortable body language, a clear mind but one that fancies fiction over reality. Whenever he drinks, he’s giddy and excited; the only one who can get through to him in these moments are Will and I. The thing is, Jakob has never tried to be anybody but himself. He is aware that these qualities are not valued by the vast majority and are perhaps seen as weaknesses or even are simply frowned upon (much of this he experienced as a result of the way Will treated him over the years), but even all of that has never caused his personality to shift or made him close himself off. Jakob has always found security within who he is, regardless of whether those around like it or not.

Will: His protective commitment to those who he loves. Even though Will canonically admitted his frustrations over Jakob and how he “hates” his younger bother, stating how Jakob “drives him mad”, he is fiercely protective of him and committed to maintaining their relationship in spite of any disagreements or arguments. Will does not give up on those he loves. Even though it would have made sense for him to toss Jakob into the streets and leave him if he truly hates him, but Will does not. Despite his confession, he has never actually hated his brother; Jakob makes him feel weak, helpless and inferior because Jakob’s comprehension of things beyond Will’s understanding or compulsion to understand or look beyond what is right in front of him is too different and unusual to him. 

Favorite physical trait?

Jakob: His eyes. Jakob’s eyes are so expressive; they sparkle in the light and his irises twinkle. His soul appears as if it were made from stardust and every bit of him glows. His eyes reflect the innocence and playful mischief bound within him; he is a dreamer at heart and his eyes mirror that. 

Will: His smile. There is a scene when Jakob and Will first arrive at Marbaden and they are confronted by the townspeople with weapons, uncertain of who these two strangers are, and when Will tries to explain who they are his smile is simply dazzling. I believe that was the moment I found myself in love with him; I have not seen a smile so bright in a long time. Here’s a screenshot of his smile (Jakob’s expression in the background is so funny😂):

Couple song

We do not have a couple song yet; we have couple albums. 

Taylor Swift’s albums Folklore and Evermore are sister albums, so it only makes sense that they are representative of the two brothers respectively: Folklore for Jakob and Evermore for Will. 

Both albums are suited to the three of us; the feelings provoked from both establish the tone of our relationship. 

Pet peeves…

There is only one: their constant bickering/arguing and fights. It is natural for siblings to fight, but the longer I spend with these two, the more consistently they seem to fight in front of me. I do not believe the fighting affects their relationship as perhaps it did in the past; they seem very content, even after they’ve been fighting a while, and neither of them holds a grudge anymore. 

Favorite outfit on them?

I will share photos since it would take some time to explain in enough detail; I am a sucker for older/medieval clothing (perhaps this is why this movie spoke to me in such a way?)

These are my favorite outfits of theirs:

their armor is a close second, because it really makes me laugh:

Favorite meal?

Jakob: This bit is indicative of all of us and I was the one who introduced the brothers to this meal - vegetable soup; beef/broth, noodles, peas, carrots, tomatoes, corn, green beans, potatoes. The brothers are used to eating whatever is being served them at the pubs they visit and the inns at each town they stay and, needless to say, are not often prepared a meal especially one to their specific tastes. The first time I made this for them, they ate heartily and it has been their favorite since. 

Will: This is less of a specific meal and more of a eating habit of his, but Will is partial to sweet treats and desserts of all kind. His favorite treat is soft bread with a sticky, sugary glaze (wait until I tell him about glazed donuts😂) 

Early bird or night owl?

Neither of the Grimms are particularly one or the other. They both have been known to stay awake all hours of the night for one reason or another; Jakob stays up writing most nights when brand new ideas flood his mind and prevent sleep. He works whenever inspiration strikes and if that is the middle of the night, then Will or I will find him hunched over his desk, pen scratching away across the page as he squints to read what he has written under the low candlelight. 

Will stays awake late born out of a habit he has yet to change. He does not like to sleep very soundly until he knows that Jakob and I are either asleep or keeping each other company; Will takes responsibility of us quite seriously. Since we’ve begun a relationship, they do not go out as much as they once had and when we do, they are awake nearly the entire night and whenever they crash, they are both out cold. 

If I wake up throughout the night, Jakob sleeps so soundly that he would not know (he wears earplugs if we’re staying at an inn because the noise bothers him.) Will always wakes up whenever I do; the shifting around wakes him, but he does not usually open his eyes or speak to me until I come back to bed and he settles me back into my spot. 

Snorer or sleep talker?

Jakob: SLEEP TALKER! Jakob talks in his sleep nearly every night, most especially if he has had something to drink beforehand or if Will has gotten under his skin about something. Stress/anxiety also trigger it; I don’t hear him often, because he only does it in a deep sleep which is usually whenever I’ve already fallen asleep. 

Will: Will does not snore or talk in his sleep; he is unusually quiet, however, he will groan or mumble softly if he’s turning over or something like that. He does not move a lot when he’s sleeping either. 

Do you have any pets together?

No, our lifestyle is not suited to pets, unless horses used for transportation count. 

Pet names! (Both from them and yours for them)

Will’s for me: little one/little girl, peanut

Jakob’s for me: sweetheart, darling, lover

Mine for Jakob: Jakey, Beanstalk (turning Will’s mean comments into something sweet💕), Dreamer, Sweetie/Sweet One/Sweet Baby

Mine for Will: Blondie, Prince Charming (only in certain scenarios)

Ones Jakob and Will use collectively for me: Briar Rose, Rosebud, Unicorn, Beauty/Belle (a play off my favorite fairytale), Princess

Ones I use collectively for Jakob & Will: Grimmy

How often do you fight? What starts fights?

I have yet to have any fights with either of the brothers (though I have had mild disagreements with Will over the way he speaks to Jakob.)

Jakob and Will fight often and about everything, but more often than not, the source of the argument is their personality difference. Their interests clash significantly and they find it difficult to coexist at times because Will feels he must fill the role of Jakob’s caretaker, while Jakob simply wants Will to be his brother and believe in him. 

I usually do not get involved in their squabbles unless Will speaks out of turn. He can be somewhat hateful in the remarks he makes to his brother and I am not afraid to set the record straight. Jakob has gotten much better at standing up for himself; he is not afraid to get physical if things escalate to that point, though I have yet to see them lay a hand on each other. Jakob knows that one swift punch is all that he needs to deliver for Will to fall in line and understand that he is serious; he saves them for when he needs them and has only punched Will outright one time, that I am aware of. 

Who apologizes first?

This depends on who feels they are “wrong”. Will does not like to apologize, so usually it is Jakob who initiates the apology. Occasionally, neither will apologize and it is implied that they both have and things will continue on like normal as if nothing ever happened (this is best case scenario.) 

I have not known them to simply not apologize to each other for wrongdoing; Will has apologized to Jakob on a number of occasions where I have been present. If Will apologizes, it is usually for speaking too harshly to Jakob or bringing up the “magic beans” he has terrorized Jakob with for years. 

Big spoon or little spoon?

Jakob: Jakob adores being the little spoon. Even though he likes to hold onto me at night, nothing seems to compare to being held. Jakob has gone the majority of his life without being shown affection and tender love; he is so touch-starved that he asks to be held almost every night. 

Will: Will is the only F/O (aside from J) who I allow to be the big spoon on a regular basis. I trust him implicitly and know that he will keep me safe; he likes to hold onto me while we sleep so that he knows and can feel he isn’t alone. He does not like to sleep whenever it is too cold and he wants a warm body pressed against him. 

Dom or sub?

Jakob: Submissive.

Will: Dominant.

Will has had his misgivings over Jakob and I, both being submissives, entering into a relationship together, but it has not presented an issue so far. Most of the time, Jakob and I love all over each other so it doesn’t matter one way or another😂 It is rare for Jakob and I to be sexually intimate. 

Will takes on the more dominant role, since he has been so with Jakob over the years of their lives before they’d met me. Will is the nurturer and takes care of us both; he remains protective of us despite certain insecurities and fears. Will takes on more of the sexual responsibilities of their relationship with me because of his experience with women.

What are their kisses like?

Jakob: Jakob’s kisses begin as achingly shy, reverential ones that develop into slowly sensual, spontaneous or exploratory ones. Jakob likes to hold my hands when we kiss and I like the way his facial hair pleasantly scratches my face; he is always extremely gentle and never oversteps. I especially love when he kisses me with such eager impulsivity that our cheeks turn red and we laugh when it’s over. 

Will: Will’s kisses can either be covetous and greedy, fervent, and deeply passionate or chaste and flirtatious. He always cups my cheeks, chin or tangles his fingers in my hair at the back of my head while kissing me; his lips often taste sweet or sugary from how often he indulges on sweets. My favorite of Will’s kisses are the languid, open-mouthed ones when he uses his tongue. 

What do they smell like?

Jakob: Parchment, books and ink, candlewax, earth just after it has rained, sweet basil, a vaguely sweet musk, warm skin.

Will: Warm sugar, sweat/spicy musk, pine, flame. 

What are their hugs like?

Jakob: Bear-like, full-bodied, fiercely affectionate and warm. 

Will: Long, tight, unexpectedly powerful and almost needy. 

Who is more protective?

Will. 

Both brothers are fiercely protective of me and I know that, in spite of their differences, neither would ever let anything happen to me. As long as they are facing danger together, they would willingly take on any enemy (Jakob would never let Will face danger alone and vice versa.)

Interested in children?

No. Will says that Jakob and I are enough like children as it stands😂

Who needs the most TLC when sick?

Will AND Jakob. They are both huge babies whenever they are sick and all they want is to be taken care of. Surprisingly, they bicker a lot more whenever they’re sick; mainly, they fight over who gets to cuddle me first.

Whenever I am sick, I tend to react the same way and the brothers are more than obliged to take care of me in any way they are able. Will takes the more ‘hands-on’ work like fetching me a drink, food, blankets, etc. and helping me move about as I need. Jakob does not like to leave my side and he will not do so unless instructed by Will and he will fetch me whatever is needed and then return to cuddle with me. 

Who says ‘I love you’ first?

I was the first one to say ‘I love you’ to either of the brothers. I told Jakob first; we nearly admitted it at the same time. We knew how we both felt upon the first of our meetings. 

It took me a while to say ‘I love you’ to Will. Our relationship began platonically; I did not feel comfortable saying so to him until I spoke with Jakob about it first. Intuitive of human emotions is he and he was already well-aware of how we felt about each other and, with his blessing and consent, the brothers agreed to share the love and, well, me. 

Which of you is more accident prone?

I bet you’re thinking either me or Jakob. WRONG! It’s Will. Jakob and I are very steady on our feet because we are full of rambunctious energy; Will is more laid back than either of us and he gets more indignant whenever he does accidentally hurt himself. 

Bed hog?

Jakob is more of a bed hog than Will or I. He is consistently moving around in his sleep, talking, etc. There is one unspoken rule: Jakob sleeps on the left side of the mattress, I am in the middle and Will is on the right. Both use me as a barrier and do not cross to the other’s side of the bed at any point and they each take turns cuddling with me until we all fall asleep. 

Who loves the other the most?

As if it even needs to be said, we all love each other equally, but in different ways. Jakob’s and Will’s relationship and love for each other is strictly familial, while the brothers’ relationships with me are both romantic. 

Will understands and accepts that my relationship with Jakob takes priority, as we began ours first and I am unspokenly Jakob’s above all else. Any and all major decisions are made between Jakob and I; we of course always consider Will’s emotions, well-being, etc. but Jakob prefers to take the reins in terms of calling the shots, in spite of Will being the dominant and more protective one. He feels like Will owes him this and Will is happy to allow his brother this courtesy, considering this is Jakob’s first true relationship. 

#🌹grimmrose #self-shipping

[maryniss]

The Hero

Fandom: Sk8 The Infinity

Summary: We found out who built Carla.

Characters:

Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom

Nanjo Kojiro | Joe

Relationships:

Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom

Rating:

General and Up Audiences

Tags:

Fluff

ofc it had to be a rewrite of the preview in ep 9

Kaoru being soft for once

Kojiro being a total simp

had to rewrite it cause the first draft got deleted

Notes: hihihi matchablossom is the coolest name for a ship pls im dying i love them so much. btw, kojiro means hero in japanese. ahahahahha

also fuck adam

and the palm trees

also inspired by a convo with my bestie @seleneslyre-writes​

Why Kaoru loved Carla so much was a mystery for Kojiro. It wasnt even that great. What could she do? Just some little tricks here and there.

Well, one thing was certain. Kojiro regrets that he built Carla for Kaoru. Or, he doesnt regret it. He loves that his friend has something he treasures so deeply. He really wants Kaoru to be happy. But, still. There is this feeling in his stomach, the same feeling he has when his soup is just a little too salty, when his carbonara pasta have just too much parmesan.

Kojiro sighs and the fire on the stove does too. It is really not the time to actually be thinking about Kaoru. Especially not right now. When his pink-haired friend sits in front of him, waiting to eat something.

"Oi, are you trying to starve me to death?"

Ah, Kojiro knew this would happen. He should just focus on his food. Just his food. Just the food he was making for Kaoru...

Ah, he just remembered how Kaoru used to skate. Before Carla. Before Adam left to America. When Kaoru skated, he was feral. It didnt matter that he could get hurt. It didnt matter that he was getting the corner at a wrong angle. It was simply amazing to watch Kaoru skate then. If he was sincere, he probably fell for him when he first saw him skate. It was probably spring and Kojiro was going back from school. How old was he? 16?

Anyway, the weather was warm and all around him sakura flowers were swinging. He remembers that his feet were cold for whatever reason and that he wanted to go home as soon as possible.

He didnt see the guy with the skate. If his hair would have been a different color from the flowers that were around him, maybe he would have.

Kojiro and Kaoru clashed and fell on the hard asphalt. The sakura flowers were all around them. Or maybe it was just Kaoru's hair; Kojiro couldnt distinguish them.

And, yes that was the moment he fell. He fell hard. Never in his life had he fell harder. Even when he broke his femur and almost died. Never has Kojiro in his life been so deeply attached to something.

He tried to lie to himself weeks after that. He would say to himself that he has not fell for a skater boy. It was probably the hair confusing him.

Yeah he decided that was it.

"Ko-ji-ro" Kaoru's voice made him forget about the sixteen year old Cherry Blossom and reminded him that he still had to serve food to his clients.

"Hm? What did you say?"

"Huh? What are you thinking about? It is not fun to mock you if you wont even pay attention."

Kojiro nodded his bead mindlessly. It wasnt like him to be so sentimental, to think so much of the past. Actually, it wasnt like him to think at all.

"By the way, the food is burning." Kojiro looked at Kaoru. Then at the food. Boy, did he wish Kaoru would just joke.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.", said he as he turned off the stove. Well, there certainly was a problem.

"Ok, big mindless gorilla. Now, I dont have patience for you to try again."

Kojiro opened his mouth just to close it again. He was shocked that he actually burned it. This hasnt happened to him since he was 15!

"Dont you have anything to drink?"

Kojiro blinked and looked at his friend's bandages. He finally spoke some coherent words.

"You sure you can drink like that?"

Kaoru relaxed on his chair and looked at his friend, a provocative gleam in his eyes. His hair was quite messy and damn that was the hottest shit Kojiro has seen. For some reason.

Come on, Kojiro. You have to stay calm. Calm like pasta. Pasta is good. Pasta is calm.

"Ok, ok, I’ll give you something to drink, but not too much, okay?"

Kaoru grinned and his golden pupils shone. Outside the restaurant, people were minding their business, not even looking twice in their direction. It felt as if they were secluded from the rest of the world. Just the two of them. Just the...

Fuck, Kojiro. Remember that pasta is good. Pasta is cool.

Kojiro got a bottle of wine from under the table.

“What is that?” Kaoru looked sceptically at the bottle of champagne.

“Just a something I bought from the local store.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect such a gorilla like you to drink something of quality.”

“Maybe your tastes are just too refined.”

Kojiro poured a glass for his friend and one for him, too. Kaoru smelled it and made an unpleased face.

“Hey, if you don’t want to drink it, you dont ha-”

Kaoru gulped the glass and slammed it against the table. Kojiro could see the lingering liquid on Kaoru’s lips. He would love to bend over and kiss them...softly...soft lips...

KOJIRO, PASTA. THINK ABOUT THE FUCKING PASTA.

“Ok, but you’ll pay for it.” Kaoru scoffed.

“I can afford some cheap drink. But why won’t you pour yourself a glass? Then you wont say only I drank.”

Outside the restaurant, the people did not pay a second glance to them. It was as if they were the only people existent in the world. Only the two of them..

Yeah he’d like that.

***

One bottle of champagne later and Kaoru had almost fell asleep. His hair was sprawled across the table, covering his face. Kojiro gently brushed it aside, tucking it behind a bandaged ear.

He loved this man so much and he had has since ha was 16. That’s why he built Carla for him after Adam left for America. After he had been rejected. When Adam left, not only Kaoru got hurt. Kaoru changed; he started to skate carefully, as if to not get hurt again. And it broke Kojiro’s heart to see him. 

It took Kojiro five months to build Carla. He didn’t know how he did it. He hadn’t sleep for days, he remembers. But, it was worth it. It definitely was.

“Mhm-take your hands off me, you big fat go-aaah.” Kaoru yawned and the corners of Kojiro’s mouth went upward. He sighed, stood up and gently took Kaoru into his arms. The man seemed to be somewhat lighter than before. Kojiro frowned.

“...know...you...hero...” Kaoru mumbled something with his face hid in Kojiro’s broad chest.

“Mhm? What did you say?”

And all of sudden, Kaoru woke up and threw his arms around Kojiro’s neck, pulling him closer. He started kissing his face. He kissed every single inch of dark skin, Kojiro’s nose, Kojiro’s cheeks, Kojiro’s eyes.

The milky moon’s light was entering on the window, throwing silver shadows over their bodies. Kojiro was... well he was simply amazed. Never had this happened before.  Never had Kaoru kissed him so softly and affectionate. And, yes, maybe it was because he was hurt, but it didn’t matter. Kojiro loved it, loved it so much, goddamit! Why had to be Adam that broke Kaoru’s heart? Why should this beautiful man stand some where else than in his arms, where he knew that he could protect him?

“Have you wondered why I always loved Carla so much?”

Kojiro didn’t say anything. He didn’t really want to know, for some reason. Actually, if he would be honest with himself, he was kind of jealous.

“You really are one dumb gorilla.”

Kaoru smiled and his body relaxed in Kojiro’s arms, whom tightened his grip.

“It’s because you made it for me, Kojiro.”

Also, a bonus that i want to happen:

Kojiro didn't came to see the race. Oh no, there was only one thing he wanted and he would definitely get it. He eyed the target. Adam was on the stage, playing his stupid game with cards and whatever. That was perfect. that way, everyone could see. Kojiro tightened his grip on his skateboard. He reached the stage in no time and patted Adam on his shoulder. "Oh, who is-" He slammed the skateboard in his face. "First, this is for breaking Cherr's heart." He punched him in the stomach and it took all he had to not punch him way downer. "And this is for breaking Cherr's face." Ok, so that was already done. No, all he had to do was to resolve the teenage love drama he had to witness some days ago. Kojiro took the mic. "Langa! Stop wasting your fucking time here. Go and see Reki!" And, with that, he left. After all, he had someone waiting for him at home.

*** maybe i ll do a fic for what did langa afterwards? idk :)

#sk8 fanfic #joe sk8 #cherry blossom #matchablossom fic

[micheswife]

media belongs to the rightful owners.

It is good to have you back.

Warnings: fluff, angst, chpt 139 spoilers, romantic????

Ship: Levi x civilian OC.

Summary: Mira has managed to stick by Levi's side ever since he got out of the underground. Now, they finally meet.

Times were simpler back then. Back when the Eldians were unaware of what laid beyond the walls, when salt was a luxury and oceans only appeared in fiction. Mira was just nineteen year old civilian with an ordinary life. She woke up, cooked, cleaned, studied and sewed, enjoying everything life had to offer.

This was until her eyes caught the sight of a certain soldier, he looked rather cold, little did she know she would come to read the smallest changes in his expressions in a few months. The scouts had been returning from an expedition the first time she saw him, he looked devasted and she knew why. She had felt sorry for him, for them all. She so desperately had wanted to do something for them, but alas, she lacked the guts to stand up to the crowd jeering at the soldiers. Nor did she have the funds to donate, nor the courage to join them in the battle. She had been sad when she returned home that day, and her brother's portrait made it worse. He had lost his life outside the walls five years ago, on his first expedition. She ran a thumb over the wooden frame of the drawing, before writing a letter that would be the start of the painful journey that had left her with a heavy heart today.

It was a long expression of her support towards the survey corps, her sorrow towards her own lack of strength and everything in between.

"This is pathetic." She had exclaimed after having gone through the letter, ultimately tearing it apart and discarding it in the fire. The soldiers didn't need to hear her sob story.

The next month, she had rushed to the gates upon hearing the bells, a warm meal and a little note packed in her piece of rag. She secured it with her pink ribbon, tying it in an overly elaborate knot to indicate that it was present. She cringed as she recollected asking a kid to deliver the package. Having a crush does make people desperate afterall.

It was a particularly noisy group of kids she had approached, they were enamoured with the soldiers, but she was certain they were no longer alive today.

"Hey kids, I need you to deliver something." She had crouched down.

"Um...what?".

"You see captain Levi there? This is his lunch, could you please give it to him for me."

The kids were more than happy to have an excuse to interact with their hero, so the box was grabbed immediately. The innocent children never once wondered why the perfectly healthy lady couldn’t deliver that lunch herself.

"That girl wants to give you your lunch! Captain!" Mira heard one of the excited children as she scurried away into the dark alley, rushing home as fast as she could. She was terrified of having any sort of attention on her, more so when there was the possibility of rejection involved. She tucked her feelings in the back of her mind, assuming that the captain had indeed rejected her present. Mira was a pessimist like that.

But she had been wrong, because Levi was more than grateful to have received a warm meal. Even though it had resulted in a lot of annoying comments for the rest of his career, some soldiers had even claimed to have seen the mystery woman. It didn't help that the kids had described her as a thin, brown-haired woman. That was all they remembered, too excited to have spoken with Levi.

He had opened the package to find a note inside. His hopes were shattered when it revealed nothing about the sender, except for her shabby handwriting.

"Tch, could have written it neatly."

He muttered as he kept the note aside and opened the container, food still warm inside. He couldn't help but smile when he tasted the soup, there were tiny bits of meat inside. The vegetables and the freshly baked bread had fixed him for the day. He had washed the container when nobody was looking, but not before folding the note and securing it in his wallet. It was rare for people to address such gratefulness towards him, even after everything he had done.

He'd cherish those words forever, "thank you, captain Levi." Fortunately, people became more grateful after wall Maria had been reclaimed. But by that point, Mira's little notes were the only thing that comforted him. He had a friend who stayed. He would write to her after every expedition, pouring his grief, sadness and anger in it, making sure to leave out the any confidential details. In exchange, she gave him an invisible shoulder to lean on, hoping that the narration of her mundane days would somehow provide comfort. And it did, he liked knowing about the next embroidery she planned to make, he always waited for the next meal to fill his stomach, her next letter to fill his heart. She had a slightly different personality than him in that she smiled a little more, she had more innocence, but they both were equally distant, burying their need for companionship into oblivion.

They used to talk about their days, about their hobbies, but never about their relationship. They never acknowledged their type of relationship they had, but a few feelings would slip out.

Levi had stopped telling her about Hange after he felt a tinge of bitterness in her next letter, he wanted to let her know that him and Hange shared a deep but platonic love. He avoided it, however, not wanting to make things worse. It was at that moment, Levi had made a decision. If him and this mystery girl ever survived their cruel destiny, then he would pursue her. He would ask her name, and invite her over to the same place she kept his lunch box every week. Under a lone tree not far from the headquarters.

"Don't forget the dessert this time, and keep it under that tree with yellow flowers, it is behind the headquarters." He had placed his note in the clean box, and shoved it back into the hands of the same starry-eyed kid.

"Give it to her next time you see her." He wondered what happened to the little boy after their little arrangement was made. He had taken a leap of faith that day and it had worked, the girl had come back next month, she had been looking for another group of enthusiastic kids but the little boy from last month had approached her.

"The captain told me to give you this."

She had to convince him to not go up to Levi and cause and commotion. Little did she know, Levi had already seen her bribing the kid with some homemade candy which was meant for him instead. Over the next few months, Levi would try his hardest to remember her face, contemplating the decision to ask Moblit for a sketch. But he knew that Mira wound not agree, she, just like him was scared of getting too comfortable. Perhaps that fear had been the reason why they both had established such a weird dynamic. They had soon fallen into a routine of exchanging letters, and preserving them. Levi soon found comfort in the increasing familiarity, Mira's behaviour becoming more and more predictable. They both had their own set of circumstances that had prevented them from meeting in person, including the fear that it would ruin the sacred relation they had built. They could not afford to lose each other, Mira had deliberately approached him, and he had actively seeked her out in return, going as far as dealing with a noisy little brat to see the girl for once. They were not meant to cross paths, they were not soulmates, they were hardworkers. Levi barely had the time to sleep, and it took a lot of courage to talk about his feelings, get, he made himself vulnerable in those letters, grateful that someone was willing to listen.

Mira, on the other hand, had to sneak around to deliver the meals. She was poor, a mere house-helper for some rich families, but she worked extra hours to buy those fancy ingredients. Hiding letters from her parents required a lot of tact, so did rejecting each and every man her father introduced her to. All with the awareness that Levi did not and would not love her, ever. She had forced herself to find comfort in her loneliness, unlike Levi, she never poured out her emotions. She only wrote about the things she did, the funny little dreams she saw, but her feelings were a taboo topic. To top the emotional labour, the fall of wall Maria had driven her faraway from the new headquarters, so Levi would sometimes slip in some money to help her out. It felt good to provide for her, to take care of her, especially after she had lost her parents.

The relationship had went on for years, until Levi had finally expressed feeling fearful about his impending death.

"I may never come back, also, do not reply to this letter... I will have gone to Marley by the time this reaches you. Please live a long life." A tear dropped onto the letter, smudging the ink. Levi had been to Marley several times, but this was final. He needed to save the world, not just Paradis. She had cried until her lungs gave out, until she felt lightheaded, but not because Levi would possibly not return. She was scared about the pain he might experience in his final moments. Would it be a titan? A bullet? An explosion?

"God, please let there be someone to save him." she had prayed, and her prayers had been answered. The woman Mira would get jealous of had found Levi in a horrible condition. She had lost her cheer, no longer wanting the responsibility of her position. She had even suggested running away together to the Captain, and honestly Mira would have preferred for him to do that too, afterall, Hange knew him better and longer than her. But the Captain had a promise to fulfill, and he would never just give up.

Mira never knew any of it, she refused to look at the newspapers, too scared of facing the new world of extremists. The walls were gone, some scouts had returned, but she did not see the Captain. Her pessimistic mind assumed the worst, and soon enough, a little plant was dancing on her window in honour of a soldier she had presumed dead.

It had been a long time since the last letter was sent, and Levi was now in a wheel chair. He wondered about the girl, he had never bothered to ask her name, instead he had start calling her Lily, since she always wore one of those in her wavy hair.

He remembered his decision, if they survived the titans, then he would pursue her. This was his last mission life, little did he know, Mira had started pushing him out of her mind. She had been struggling with a phase, she would write long letters addressed to him and keep them tucked away to cope with her thoughts. The cold, lonely nights had been harsh on her, and she was losing her appetite. It was going to be okay though, Levi was already on a ship to Paradis, ready with a ring in his coat. For now, he would go over his speech for the first peace summit in Paradis, and then straight to Mira. He was sure he could find her.

#Levi #levi aot #levi ackerman #snk #attack on titan #aot x oc #snk x oc #snk 139 #levi heichou #levi x oc #rivai ackerman #rivalle #rivaille #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin manga #shingeki no kyoujin levi

[whitleyschn33]

RWBY Volume 8 Episode One: Quick Thoughts

Or not so quick, seeing how long it took me to write this and how much I ended up having to say. Spoilers (duh) under the cut, as this thing got insanely long.

So we open with a maid scrubbing a floor, a shot that lasted long enough I was starting to wonder where it was going before we cut to Cinder. So, Cinder backstory - interesting way to open the volume, but I’m not sure if it’s a good way. At the very least, I would have cut it a couple seconds, or have it flash between Cinder’s face and the flashback. Same information, but given in a quicker manner that lets us know exactly what we’re seeing instead of wonder who this random maid is for 10 seconds.

Whale aircraft carrier. The design is interesting, if looking a bit too clean for my taste. I would’ve liked to see the bones and muscles of the Grimm incorporated into the design a bit more, the surfaces less smooth and more textured, but it looks good.

Facial acting on Neo is good - I appreciate being able to see what’s running through her head, even if it also makes me wonder why Salem isn’t picking up on the obvious tells.

Emerald and Mercury are back and with new outfits; I can hear the diehard EmMerc fans screaming from here. Would’ve liked a better look at the whole outfits (I don’t think there’s even one close up of their entire bodies), but I like Mercury’s! Emerald’s model feels off to me for some reason, like it’s wider or more padded (?) than before, but it’s not a big deal and is probably just a result of her wearing a jacket now.

Oh, yeah, Hazel got one too, don’t care.

Why does the whale have a screen? A connection to one of those seer orb Grimm?

Cinder is still not interesting to me, but I am curious - can one woman hold multiple maiden powers? What happens if one woman holds them all? If they can hold multiple powers, what happens when they die? Do they both/all go to the same person, or would they split?

I like the Faunus that gives Oscar the soup. His design is pretty cute to me (I think he’s a mole Faunus?), and I feel like he’s based on something, but I’m not sure what. Getting a Narnia vibe for some reason, which I’m always on board for.

How did Ruby know where Oscar ended up? Did he call? 

Weiss’s braid looks much better! I’m still not a huge fan of it, but this model is an enormous improvement - it actually looks like hair instead of rope, it’s slicker, and doesn’t look as heavy. Nice job, animators. Blake’s looks better, too, more fluffy, but it’s not as drastic a change to me.

Nice to see the Happy Huntresses actually doing something to help Mantle, and having Joanna(? that’s her name, right?) take charge and be helping Ruby get Oscar back in exchange for their aid is nice. It feels realistic for a situation like this.

And more secret keeping, but in this case, dropping the Oz bombshell would actually probably be a bad idea. There’s enough going on, bringing up Oz being back can wait until tensions aren’t as high.

Why would Ironwood stop evacuation? That makes no sense for his character, and there’s no reason to stop them. Until he gets Penny back, Atlas isn’t going anywhere. Might as well keep evacuating until you can find here, get as many people to safety as possible before getting away. I’d assume the Doylist answer for this is that Mantle still needs to be a factor in any decisions made after this and it can’t be that if we can get everyone evacuated, but that doesn’t make the Watsonian explanation make more sense.

Actually a good plan, getting everyone into the crater if it is in fact warm (why, I wonder? Thermal vents? Heat coming off of Atlas?) solves the cold problem (that people should’ve probably already died from) and having to defend one smaller location is strategically a good option. Corralling people would also make any eventual evac to Atlas easier. There is the small problem of, you know, Atlas literally crushing anyone in the crater if the staff is used on anything else, and Salem is known to be after that Staff, sooooooo -

Okay, maybe a nitpick, but I thought Pierto’s specialty was prosthetics and robotics. Doesn’t seem like something that necessarily overlaps with what’s needed to convert Amity into a satellite. I guess maybe the engine/whatever is going to propel it into the air could be similar to Penny’s boosters/whatever lets her fly, but it doesn’t seem like something that he would be involved in raising Amity. Whatever - I know we need a scientist person to tell these things to RWBY+Co and Pierto is the most likely candidate to be in a position to do that.

It seems like, from Ruby’s dialogue, she both wants to warn the other kingdoms and ask for their help. This has been trampled to death, so I won’t rant, but - there is no one that’s going to be able to help. Argus is hours away, will take time to assemble, and isn’t a very large force to begin with. Mistral is still weakened from V5 and has next to no huntsman, and is even farther than Argus. No idea what’s going on with Vale, but they’re probably still nursing their wounds from the Fall. Vacuo is the only kingdom likely to be able to muster up a force, but they’re on the other side of the map and will take hours, if not days, to get together an army - and that’s if they decide they want to help at all. The other objective was warning the Kingdoms about Salem. Ignoring that Salem is immortal and can just throw as many Grimm as she pleases until the defenses fall, ignoring that the other Kingdoms might not even believe Ruby, what’s to say they won’t go “F*ck Atlas, they’re on their own” and recall every available Huntsman and Huntress to shore up their own defenses? Or what if the other kingdoms just fall into anarchy? Learning an immortal witch with an endless supply of Grimm will come knocking on your doorstep soon tends to cause chaos. Or is Ruby going to leave the whole immortal part out again? I just can’t see what this will accomplish.

Holy shit, it’s actually happening. Dissent from WBY, and it’s coming from Yang of all people - I love it. I wish Yang had gotten to finish her sentence, say something along the lines of “Maybe if we’d told the truth immediately things wouldn’t have gone this way” since that would fit with her “hate secrets” thing she had going on in V5/6, but the fact that Yang is actually questioning Ruby’s leadership and choices - yes yes yes, more of that please, less of the hive mind. I wish it’d come a little earlier, but at this point I’ll take what I can get.

I’m slightly confused at the sides that Ren and Nora are taking here. I like that we’re splitting them up here (we never get to see them separated, and after last volume, I am more than on board with letting Ren get some breathing room), but Ren going with Yang, Jaune, and Oscar to help evacuate Mantle while Nora goes on the “bigger picture” team to get Amity up and running seems weird considering where they were last volume. Nora was always screaming about how the big picture stuff was hurting Mantle, while Ren was pushing to keep training, keep working, support Ironwood and try and work at the big picture problem, so it would seem like they should be on opposite sides. I’m not saying it makes no sense - I can absolutely see Ren feeling protective of towns under attack from Grimm with no Huntsmen in their corner - but it feels like a bit of a 180 from their last positions. 

Did Oscar just call Jaune “John”?

Yeah, if nothing else, don’t let Penny get anywhere near Salem or her cronies. Salem can absolutely not be allowed to get her hands on the Staff, especially with the whole “get everyone to the crater” plan. Squish.

Yang and Blake splitting up, maybe we can actually get some conversations on what the hell is up with them that we should have gotten in V6/V7 instead of petty showing off and Nora projecting.

“But what about Mantle?” “Oh, I’m helping Mantle.” with the same thing you spent all last volume complaining about. Uh-huh, that’s not annoying.

Weiss has an idea on how to get up to Atlas - Winter’s ship, maybe? That one she came in on in V3 was her personal ship, wasn’t it?

Ironwood calls Penny. From the music, it sounds like they were aiming for foreboding and manipulative, but Ironwood just sounds tired, the poor man. Love how Ruby doesn’t even try for a comeback for Ironwood’s argument, really convincing.

Dead Clover, and I hope that he stays that way, because if he’s brought back to life, so much of V6′s themes of life and death and the natural cycle is just going to be spit on (again). Clover is dead, and there should be no way around that save interference from a literal god. Any attempt at bringing him back needs some kind of drawback - some prevision of life, a body that moves but his soul isn’t there, something, please RT, don’t double back on your “Death is permanent” thing again.

And Ironwood did lose his arm completely. It’s an awesome looking prosthetic, but the fact that it’s black when the rest of his prosthetics are silver, combined with the comments made by the CRWBY about Ironwood’s humanity, make me very afraid they’re going to go for some sort of bullshit parallel to Cinder’s black Grimm arm. I do like the orchestral version of Hero playing here, though.

I like Winter’s new hair style - similar enough to her previous one, but looser. Not exactly happy about what that might symbolize, but it looks really good. It looks like she might have nerve damage, though, which would mean she might be off the battlefield until she can get her hands (hah) on some sort of brace to help her move her hands (which might be hinted at in the OP~)

I do really like Ironwood and Winter’s relationship, please don’t f*ck it up, CRWBY.

Is the only thing CRWBY knows how to do to make Ironwood seem like the bad guy shoot people for no goddamn reason? Ironwood was surrounded by loyal soldiers after declaring martial law, there was no reason for him to not just order Slate detained (that one was Slate, right? Not that it matters). The man’s annoying and probably in cahoots with Jacques, but shooting him is out of character, excessive, and makes no sense when he could just be arrested. “It shows he’s slipping -” No. It’s lazy writing meant for shock value and to give characters a reason to go “Oh, he’s going evil now, I better question my loyalty to him” (based on the look Winter and Harriet share) rather than any actual flaw in his plans maybe because CRBY realized that Ironwood’s plans are rational and the best one on the table right now, so they can’t use that to turn people against him. F*ck that.

Salem sends a bloodhound or whatever after Oscar, we already saw this bit in the trailers. No comment.

TLDR: Once again, RWBY sets up a lot of stuff that I find interesting and want to see more of. However, their treatment of Ironwood doesn’t make me optimistic for them to treat him right, and RWBY has a track record of setting up good concepts/plots/characters/arcs and then failing to execute them well or at all. We’ll have to see if V8 actually lives up to the promise or falls flat due to the issues that plagued V6 and V7 .

Going to make a whole new list for the OP because dear Lord, this thing is dense.

This song is definitely more in line with RWBY’s usual sound than Trust Love, and I’m all for that. The beat is a little hinky to me - it’s going to take a few re-listens to get used to it - and once again I wish the lyrics were clearer, but I know people that weren’t as happy with V7′s sound will be happy with this return to form.

Establishing shots of Mantle going to hell, nice use of red and contrast, but I wish there was a bit more use of shadow to really sell the red coming from fires and emergency lights.

Ruby standing alone, turning to find the others standing at the ready to fight, but away from her and with their backs turned. Any chance of more dissent? Will we actually get some growth from Ruby, in regards to her leadership in particular? We can only hope.

The four girls, on a blackish/blue background with floating warm lights, with images of their V1 selves in their clothes/hair/weapons. I really love the animation in the portion, the girls look so good. It also makes me wish we’d get some sort of flashback to V1-3, because I want more of their Beacon designs in the new animation style. The fact that this background/setting shows up again later in the trailer makes me wonder if it might be what the interior of the Atlas vault looks like. No basis for that, just a random thought. Couple minor nitpicks, focused on Yang. The fact that she’s the only one not in a more dynamic pose (and this is Yang of all people) seems odd, and the way her hair flows looks weird to me based on the angles and whatnot. Putting her in a different pose like a charge would fix this, letting her hair flow more naturally and giving them the space they need to to add in her past self. Otherwise, gorgeous. 

Ironwood with Atlas inside him, slowly being overtaken by the red as he looks up. No real comment other than beautiful.

Clover dropping his pin, with the AceOps and Qrow in the leaves, before transitioning to Qrow taking Robyn’s hand in prison. It looks like Harriet will be taking over as team leader. I don’t have a lot to say here - Marrow’s the only AceOp I’m interested in, and Qrow and Clover’s relationship has never been compelling for me. Robyn, similarly, is not a character I like, so a Qrow/Robyn team-up jailbreak isn’t something that I’m interested in unless Watts is involved. Already teamed up with one villain, Qrow, why stop there?

Oscar in pain holding his head, while Grimm eyes surround him and then Salem with wyvern wings comes out and looms over him preparing to grab him. I like the visual of Salem as the Wyvern at Beacon, but her face looks almost doofy in this shot. I think it’s the lack of expression mixed with the eyes. If she had a more menacing expression, I think this would work a lot better.

The falling weapons of the girls, Crescent Rose with Myrtenaster and Gambol Shroud with Ember Celica. Cue the shippers.

Jaune with his sword in front of his face, pulling it down to be at the ready, with Nora and Ren in the far background, their backs turned on each other but looking sad at their positions. I know Jaune’s thing is probably generic, but it gives me Mulan vibes, which is funny considering. Hey, hint that Martial Arcs will become canon now that Renora is on the rocks? fingers crossed More of Ren and Nora’s rough patch, and I really hope that that gets some focus. Their kiss last volume left a bad taste in my mouth with how it went down, and getting into these two as separate characters and their relationship. Ren not requiting Nora’s romantic feelings towards him would be a really interesting place to go with these characters that everyone’s pegged together since episode 4 (in no small part due to their lack of interaction with anyone else, but I’ll get to that). 

Winter and Weiss walking towards each other on the Schnee symbol, passing each other by with Winter getting her new hairstyle and a brace of some sort. She’s actually wearing this brace in the hospital, but on the other arm, while now it’s on the arm she couldn’t bend her fingers with. Interesting, and it looks all looks really good!

The Schnee snowflake falls between Whitley and Willow, before shattering onto a chessboard. YESSSS, Whitley’s in the intro again! That’s more than I could’ve hoped, and I really really hope that him looking contemplatively like that means something - that’s he’s figuring things out, coming up with a plan, something! Still no new design though T-T CRWBY, what do I have to do to get my boy some new clothes?

From the chessboard, Salem rises up, turning the other black pieces into Grimm to attack the white where Ironwood stands. His pieces turn to dust, the board blowing away entirely. Nice callback to V1. Ironwood stands alone - no allies, and no space to move forward. He’s a king with nowhere to move - check or checkmate. 

Smug Watts hacking while leaning against a mirror, rotates to show Pierto doing the same, his reflection looking over its shoulder at him, then a pan to Penny to show the same thing before the mirror breaks. I’m not sure what this might symbolize. Inability to trust yourself, maybe?

A snowflake flies through the air and lands in Ren’s palm. It turns into a flower petal, (or scraps his hand, I can’t quite tell) then Yang, Jaune, and Oscar join him, Ren smiling to Jaune. Another flower petal flies by to transition to Nora, who reaches out but can’t catch it, looking dismayed until RWBP comes in to join her. I assume the symbolism is straight-forward - the snowflake turns to a petal when caught by Ren (lotus guy), then flies to Nora who can’t catch it. Really living for the Ren focus in the op~

Pans to a shot of the whole group in the middle of everything - Atlas and Mantle overrun with Grimm on one side, Salem’s whale and Grimm army on the other, and Amity in the middle, which Penny flies up to hover below. Penny is going to be vital to launching Amity, and probably for reasons other than the terminal.

Then Ruby and Yang looking at each other with a smile and nod before the girls jump into fighting some Grimm. Interesting bit when the volume opens with the sisters starting to have disagreements.

The entire thing freezes, Cinder strolling cockily past the crew to walk in front of a bored/disgruntled Neo and Emerald who starts to wave but looks dejected when Cinder ignores her. Not much to say here - I don’t really like the freeze frame for some reason, no idea why. This also doesn’t give us any new info on the dynamics between these three characters.

Cinder grabs her Grimm arm in pain as fire flares up behind her, transitioning into Merc, Tyrian, Hazel, and Salem with the lamp in her eyes, transitioning to the lamp and staff twirling around each other, both emitting smoke like they’re being used as they come together. I wonder if this means that the last question and the Staff are going to be used, and maybe together? Once again, though - Atlas falling, people in the crater die.

Smoke clears up to reveal Ruby, looking up to Atlas first in invasion mode, then peaceful. Turn to a shot of the group standing looking to the left, Yang and Ruby looking like they’re posed but the others just kind of standing there. It’s a weird shot, and I’m not sure what to make of it, honestly.

The ice breaks beneath Ruby’s feet, sending RWBY falling into a void, their bodies trailing those lights that we saw before. Ruby opens her eyes to see the brightest light, the Staff. She reaches out to it, but Grimm paws and hands drag her down. V6 callback?

The word Happy? flashes only to be crossed out, a sketchy Grimm roaring, then the words Ever then Never as it’s crossed out, with a sketchy Penny lifting her head and her eyes then face going red, then the words After Again being crossed out. I’m not really of the words - I think it’s going for a Happily Ever After Happy? Never Again thing, but there’s no Happily that I can see, and it just kind of comes across as a bit emo to me. I like the sketches of the Grimm and Penny - I think it might be a Wyvern Grimm or something like that, and the red spreading from Penny’s eyes to her entire outline is interesting. I wonder if it’s connected to the Maiden powers and how she’ll use them.

Sketches of RWBY’s weapon fall into the snow, Crescent Rose falling with the tip stuck in the snow, then a flash and a pull out to Crescent Rose in the snow in full animation, framed by the broken moon as rose petals fly by with the “Created by Monty Oum” credit appears. I really like this as a reference to the Red trailer, and compared to the very cluttered ending shot of V7, this is a nice change of pace.

I like this OP. It’s definitely above V7′s for me, with a good song and some beautiful animation in it’s visuals. If I had to criticize it, I would say that it feels very long and cluttered. My breakdown of the opening feels as long as everything I mentioned in the actual episode. I realize one was going almost shot by shot, while the other summarized, but the point still stands that this things feels longer than it needs to be (I’d have to check time stamps to see if it is actually significantly longer).

A more promising start, all in all, than I’d hoped for. Things irritate me for sure, Ironwood’s treatment, Ruby’s plan, all that stuff, but I know I would have those bones to pick going in. The shake-up of the usual teams and the promise of inter-group conflict is enough to get me to want more, and I look forward to seeing how my favorite characters will be utilized. 

What are your thoughts on the episode? Reblog and comment down below, and we’ll start a convo.

Until next time~

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby volume 8 #rwby8 spoilers #rwby 8 spoilers #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xioa long #episode breakdown

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 19

Read on AO3. Part 18 here. Part 20 here.

Summary: You get to find out what's going to happen to you post-escape attempt--or, whatever Ren wants to happen.

Words: 2400

Warnings: Handmaid AU

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hi! I decided to give everyone break and just... write plot, for once. What the fuck is plot? God.

Really really appreciating everyone's comments. I loved writing soft Ren. Hope to do it some more? Right? Yes? ;D

Thank you so so much to everyone. I love y'all. See you shortly! <3

“It’s morning.”

Kylo Ren’s voice trickled like a creek through the hazy meadow of your mind. You had been divorced from rest for so many hours that you were certain you’d begun hallucinating, phasing through dreams and reality like osmosis. The dark sheets underneath you were a black ocean, Ren’s chest at your back a mountain made of heat and stone. And you--you were a bird, floating on thermals of terror, too afraid to flap your wings, lest you birth a tornado, but even more afraid to rest, to languish to death in exhaustion.

“You need to walk.” 

His voice again, guiding you back to reality. He eased you forward, uncurling his legs from around you, the reassuring strength of his body leaving you exposed. Your head hurt less, but the lack of sleep still had you a little dizzy. What if you still couldn’t walk? Perhaps you’d be forced to the doctor, where’d you’d be asked twenty dozen questions, maybe determined deficient. Maybe this entire episode had been for naught, maybe you’d be shipped off to the Colonies for your disobedience, maybe--

“Up,” he said. “Show me if you can walk.”

You shook your head, brain wobbling like congealed fat in your skull. Ren stood at the side of the bed; you soaked him in, from the dark waves of hair skating above his wide, powerful shoulders, his broad chest rising with quiet breath, down to his abdomen, wrapped tight with muscle, and the trail of hair that led below his pants. God, he was gorgeous--it was almost ethereal. It sent a distant tremble to your toes, agitating the chilled pond of desire in your belly.  

The tenderness you’d felt from him had evaporated, now--he observed you with cold, expectant eyes. Jaw stiff, you eased yourself onto the ground, surprised when your feet connected with the floor and steadied you. One step, and then another, no teeters to be found. 

He shifted back, a silent request for a continued demonstration. Shrugging, you stepped again, again. The world had stopped spinning. Finally.

“Get to your room. The Marthas will provide you with another dress.” He scanned you, memorizing something. “You should sleep.”

You nodded, folding your arms over your chest, feeling more naked in your civilian clothes now than you’d felt the night prior when you were actually naked in the backseat of his car.  “What’s… going to happen to me?”

He raised a brow. “You will remain as my Handmaid and serve this home.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“Yes.”

You wanted that to be true for more than one reason--the first would be to give the Resistance what they needed, to ensure Poe’s death hadn’t been in vain. The second was more nebulous and shameful, woven into the fabric of your ache, your longing to know him. If only you could set that fabric on fire and bury the ashes--after all, you were a spy, now. He deserved retribution. No matter how sweetly he stroked your hair.

“Okay… it’s just, Johana had mentioned something about re-education--”

“I meet with the Council today,” he said. “I’ll inform them that re-education won’t be necessary.” A dark flame flashed across his irises. “Unless you believe it is.”

You ignored the shiver at the base of your spine. “No, sir.” 

Ren’s eye twitched. “We’re alone. You...” Then, his expression hardened, and before you could respond: “Go.”

You nodded, peeling away and shuffling into the corridor.

It was strange to creep through the halls of his home without the swish of skirts at your ankles--a shame you’d have to give this outfit up. It wasn’t something you would’ve worn prior to the rise of Gilead, but in this world, it made you feel as if you’d strapped on Doc Martens and a trenchcoat. 

The size of your room was about how you had remembered--if not a little smaller. The brief lapse of monotony had already done so much to shatter your familiarity with those four walls--perhaps freedom had the power to vaporize any association with bondage you’d had. The idea of living a life without a single recollection of this home flipped your stomach with excitement. A tiny, near silent tingle of hesitation--even Kylo Ren?

Yes, you told yourself. Even him. 

Sighing, you crawled into bed, sinking like a brick into the mattress. If Ren had the power to keep you safe, you wanted to trust him--your future was dependent on his attachment to you. The level of that attachment was difficult to discern, but you knew that you wanted to encourage it. It would make gathering whatever information the Resistance wanted much easier. That tingle again--it’s something you want, too.

You groaned, shoving a pillow over your head, hoping to shut out your own annoying brain. Your feelings about Kylo Ren were irrelevant and pointless. He was your Commander, you were his Handmaid--the chains of society had bound you for too long already. Perhaps you could have known him in another life, another landscape, another time where to be with him wouldn’t mean the complete resignation of your own humanity, where your relationship hadn’t been forged in a firepit of his superiority. But there could never be a context where your history--already too long--could be erased. The thought was sobering. Freeing. Devastating.

The chatter in your mind slowed as you sucked in a breath. The long-avoided necessity of sleep slammed into you, shutting your eyes and taking you into a dreamless void. 

A rap on your door, and you shot up from bed, heart ricocheting into your throat. The sun was setting. You had no idea how long it had been since you’d fallen asleep. 

“One moment.” It was good you’d woken up--no coma. But your head still pounded with the reminder of your accident. You passed a few fingers over the tender knot at your hairline, checking its size before standing. “Coming.”

You opened your door to reveal Emma, a full Handmaid uniform folded in her arms. She gawked, staring at you before clearing her throat. You couldn’t blame her--it was the same reaction you’d had when you’d seen Rey. 

“I was asked to, um, inform you that you should bathe before you put this on.” She shoved it into your arms, averting your gaze. Her cheeks were pink. “How does it feel?” Her voice was gossamer in air. 

“It feels… good,” you replied. “Or, it felt good. I know I’ll have to give these up.”

She nodded. “Yes, actually, I was told you should leave them in the washroom when you’re finished so I can collect them for Ms. Johana.”

“Johana?” you asked. “What does she want with them?”

“I… don’t know,” she replied. “I was just told to bring them to her.”

You shrugged. “Okay. Um. Thank you, Emma.”

Offering you a tight smile, she turned and left. You held your uniform in your arms, gazing down at the crisp red folds of the dress and cloak, the snowy bonnet plopped on top, the red-brown boots encircled by the large, white wings. A sigh left you. At least you wouldn’t have to wear the wings until tomorrow. You hoped.

Your bath came and went with little interruption. If Ren had come home at any time during your sleep or your wash, you hadn’t heard it. In fact, the house had been silent, as if you were living inside of an illusion, where wood didn’t creak, where footsteps didn’t echo. Even beyond the windows had seemed quiet, like every creature with remaining dignity had eloped the moment you’d awakened in an endeavor to distance themselves from whatever had infected you. You imagined explaining to them you were undercover for the Resistance--of course none of it meant anything to you. But, in your own daydream you were met with dismissal, as if your subconscious couldn’t even let non-sentient animals buy into your delusion.

Frustration crackled as you shoved yourself into your uniform, contemplating in disbelief the curtain of red fabric that had replaced your body. You could’ve been free, could’ve been planning your future, could’ve been doing anything but standing in a fucking washroom draped in the signifier of your inhumanity. Instead, you were about to head downstairs, eat whatever Johana had decided you were worthy of eating, and await news of your fate. The fact that Ren still hadn’t returned wasn’t encouraging.

You made your way downstairs, leaving your Resistance outfit folded in the hamper. Perhaps Johana wanted to dust it for prints, perform a luminol test on it in hopes it would light up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. But she’d be out of luck, there--you’d been naked when Ren had fucked you. You shuddered at the memory. 

It was still bizarre. His tears, his pain, his rage, just barely leashed. You couldn’t figure out how to process it. How could you leave me--these weren’t the words of a Commander, chastising his Handmaid for abandoning her duty. They were the words of a heartbroken, empty man, ripped from his refuge. But that couldn’t be right. 

I want you here. Not one like you. You haunt me. How could you leave me. Use my name.  

You are me.

Could it?

You awoke from your musings seated in front of some sort of soup--this week’s leftovers stirred in vegetable stock. Sighing, you moved to take a bite when, around the corner and down the hall, you heard the front door open.

“And it’s temporary?” It was Johana.

“Yes.” That voice was Ren’s. You straightened. “That was part of the compromise.”

“All right.” A shuffle--they’d both stopped. Johana’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I’m already having her clothes destroyed. They won’t know she ever met with the Resistance.”

“Mm. Industrious of you.”

“I don’t want anything interfering with my chances of getting a child.” She paused. “Including you.”

“Careful, Johana.” 

“No. You be careful, Commander. Your behavior is out of control. You’ll get us both killed.”

The scrape of his shoes on the hardwood. “I am not Canady, Johana. You’d do well to remember that.”

“No,” she said. “You’re not. He’s dead.” Quick, angry footsteps--Ren followed. “If you were, maybe I wouldn’t have to beg my own husband to show the barest consideration toward me--”

Johana marched past the dining area and stopped, face sharpening. The degree of hatred boiling inside of her scalded you, singed your skin, bid blood to your cheeks in both guilt and fear. She glared at you like a mirror that reflected her shortcomings in silvershine clarity, her face trembling with rage. With pain. 

Ren arrived behind her, meeting your eyes--the weight of their gazes combined made you want to empty yourself into a sink and disappear down the drain. 

“Um. Hello,” you said lamely, as if you weren’t a slave in their home and they weren’t both looking at you for answers.  

“You’re awake,” said Ren. “Finish your meal and meet in my den. We begin your re-education tonight.”

“What?” This time, it was both you and Johana who’d spoken. She continued, “What do you mean, re-education?”

He turned to his Wife. “I argued to the Council it wasn’t necessary at all. They disagreed. Our compromise is that I complete her re-education, instead.” Now his stare rested on you. “Once we complete what they’ve asked, they’ll assess her. If they’re satisfied, my position is reinstated.”

She balked, glancing between you and him. “Well,” she said, folding her arms, “I want to be present.”

“That’s nice.” He refused to take his fucking eyes off of you. “Unfortunately, what you want doesn’t currently serve the interests of Gilead.”

“Interests of Gilead?” Johana charged into his line of sight, breaking his leer. “Don’t stand there and act like everything you’ve done since she arrived has been for Gilead--”

Ren’s jaw tensed. “Johana.”

She stiffened. “Fine.” Spinning on you, she hissed, “Once we learn you’re not pregnant, I don’t care where you go. But I’ll make sure you won’t stay here.” She looked to Ren and bowed her head in what almost seemed mock deference, at this point. “Commander.” With that, she was gone, her feet carrying her up the steps to their bedroom.

In her absence, your soup seemed to cool. A bead of sweat slipped down the back of your neck. Ren looked at you again, and his stare locked into yours such with intensity that your vision tunnelled, shrinking blacker, smaller, a crater with no light or air or escape--except through him.

“I’ll see you shortly, little bird.” 

He kept your gaze until he disappeared beyond the walls, heading toward the den.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #little bird #handmaid au #fanfiction problems

[ashes-and-ashes]

9. “Watch it.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Remus just gives him a tight smile. He’s changed out of his typical baggy sweatshirts, wearing a perfectly fitting black sweater and he looks so good that Sirius’ heart aches.

They’re at the front of Grimmauld Place, staring up at the house. Sirius eyes the carved gargoyles, the heavy stone and the leased windows and winces.

“Look,” he says. “It’s fine. We can go right now. Fuck my parents.”

“I’d rather fuck you,” Remus replies, “But I mean sure. You’re all Blacks right?”

Sirius hits him on the shoulder, the tension in his chest loosening, just a bit. He lets out a shaking breath, staring at the heavy door, the elaborate metal door knocker inches from his nose.

It had all started with the letter, dropped into his toast at breakfast last week. He had fished it out, still talking to James, slit it open with his knife and unfolded the paper.

His heart had stopped the minute he saw the crest, smack in the middle of the page. You are required for dinner next weekend. Saturday, 7 o’clock.

And the unspoken worded, drifting at the end of the letter. If you don’t come, we’ll take it out on Regulus.

There had been a fight in the common room that night, James and Peter yelling at Sirius.

“You can’t go!” James said. “Jesus Christ, are you mental? They want you to go home for dinner? Next thing you know, you’ll be knocked out with the Mark on your arm!”

“The Mark has to be freely given, otherwise He can’t use it to control you, you moron.”

Peter shook his head. “You can’t go! They’ll hurt you.”

“They’ll hurt Reg even worse.”

“They’ll hurt Reg regardless,” James cut in. His face was anguished, twisted and distraught. “Don’t you see? If you go, they’ll torture him infront of you to make you take the Mark.”

“You don’t know that - “

Remus stood up. “I’ll go with him.”

“No.”

Remus stared Sirius down. “Yes. They won’t torture anyone if someone is witnessing.”

“You dumbass,” Sirius spat, fear replacing anger in his chest. “You’re a fucking werewolf. You’re good as dead the second you step foot in the house.”

“I’m not going to waltz in and say, ‘Hello, I’m a werewolf,’ am I?”

“He’s right,” James cut in. “Someone should go, but not you Re. You’re a halfblood and a halfbreed - you’re fucked. I’ll go - “

“You can’t.” Remus’ voice was calm. “Both of you are banned, remember? Sirius told the story last Christmas.”

“No,” Sirius said again. “No. You can’t come.”

Remus just stared at him. “Watch me.”

It had taken the better part of 4 hours to convince Sirius. He hated himself for it, that weakness, hated how selfish he was for allowing Remus to step foot in the Manor. He let out a long breath, fingers hovering over the door knocker.

“Do you want me to?” Remus whispers. Sirius swallows hard, then nods. Remus reaches forwards, lifts the metal handle and then lets it drop with a clang.

The door opens at once - Sirius looks down, his stomach twisting at the sight of Kreacher, in a bow so low that his nose touched the carpet. “This way, please,” he croaks, and Remus and Sirius follow him down the hallway, through the winding corridors and then finally into the dining room.

Sirius hated the dining room, all high ceilings and wooden walls and a huge metal chandlier dripping with jewels. The table was huge, oak and iron, set four five, wine glasses and plates and more cutlery then there should be.

Sirius swallows back the bitter taste in his mouth as he saw who was sitting at those plates. His father, in dress robes of charcoal grey, his mother in a gown of emerald silk. Reg was there too, hair neatly combed, seated across from Walburga and -

Bastards, Sirius thinks. What bastards. Because Orion sat at the head of the table, Walburga and Regulus on opposite sides of the table, which meant that he either had to sit next to his mother who tortured him or his brother who hated him.

He stares at the table, heart pounding so hard that it hurt, and he thought he might have toppled over if not for the sudden press of Remus’ finger, right across the throbbing in his wrist. He calmly headed towards Walburga, gracefully sliding into the chair next to her, and Sirius let out a small sigh of relief.

He remembers the last time he had come, bringing James and Peter with him. They had been rude - their hatred of Sirius’ family was so obvious it hurt, the dinner ending with a minor explosion and a basket of burnt roles. Remus was perfect though, his face completely blank, hands folded over his lap as he stared directly at Orion. There was a hint of a challenge in his eyes, his voice like steel as he says, “Thank you for inviting me to your home, Mr. Black.”

Orion merely inclines his head. Sirius catches the flash of interest in his mother’s eye - she obviously had not been expecting Remus to make the first move. She merely smooths down her skirt, twisting in her chair to face Remus. “Of course. We are...honoured to have you.”

Remus smiles, reaches for his glass of water. He takes a sip, eyes meeting Sirius’, a silent message of support. We’ll be fine.

Walburga turns towards Sirius now, the facade of a perfect hostess cracking away. She merely stared at him, like one would stare at a pebble on the sidewalk, blank and empty and entirely without feeling. “Sirius.”

Sirius presses his hand against his stomach, wills his voice not to shake. It comes out cold, flat and slightly strained. “Mother.”

“You didn’t even bother to greet your father and I.”

“Apologies. Father. Mother.”

Orion scowls. “Must you always be this obnoxious?”

“Only when I feel like it.”

Walburga sighs, turning to face Remus. “You must excuse him,” she says, giving a small laugh that Sirius had never, not once, heard her use before. “He has some...authority issues.”

Remus merely nods, his face still so carefully blank. Walburga scans his face, then turns away. “Where’s that useless elf,” she mutters. “Kreacher!”

The doors swing open, revealing Kreacher. Bowls of soup lie one his forearms; he places one in front of each member and then swiftly departs. Walburga picks up her spoon. “It’s pea,” she says, before taking a sip.

Remus follows suit. The table is eerily silent for a moment - Sirius remembers those long dinners, hours going by without a single word spoken. He winces, looks down at his soup - he knows the green was meant to be a jibe, a subltle mocking of his pride in Gryffindor House. He takes a sip - it’s good, but flat, lacking love and warmth and care.

Remus sets his spoon down. “It’s delicious,” he says. “Family recipe?”

Walburga laughs. “Oh, no. Sirius has always loved pea soup.”

“He loved the colour green, when he was younger,” Orion adds. Sirius clenches his teeth, anger rising up inside of him. Remus kicks him under the table.

“Of course,” he says smoothly, shooting Sirius an evil stare. “It’s fantastic.”

“Where do you come from?” Walburga asks. “I don’t recognize the name ‘Lupin.’”

Bitch, Sirius wants to hiss. It hadn’t even been 5 minutes and she was already trying to pry, trying to see if Remus was worth her time. He grips the table, hard; Regulus sets his spoon down, giving Sirius a wary glance.

Remus just nods. “My mother came from America.”

Orion looks up. “America?”

“New York. The wizarding community is rather different over there. We were quite an established family.”

Sirius quickly looks down into his soup. Remus wasn’t lying - Hope Lupin had come from America, as the daughter of one of the largest shipping companies in New York. He had conveniently left out the part about her being a muggle, of course.

Walburga gave another laugh. Sirius could practically see her mind whirling, assessing and calculating as she smiles at Remus. “Oh Sirius,” she says. “You should have told me about your new friends. I’m glad to see you finally making a correct choice in your relationships.”

“If that’s a dig at Peter and James,” Sirius says tightly, “Then you can shove it.”

“Watch it,” Regulus murmurs, a warning bell. Sirius ignores him, eyes fixed on Remus. “They’re my best friends, Mother. I’m not going to drop them.”

“Perhaps if you reconsidered your actions - “

Remus interrupts , before Sirius could tell her to go to hell. “Have you ever been to America, Mrs. Black?”

“No.”

“It’s a beautiful place.”

Orion takes a sip of water, clears his throat. “What is your father’s name, Remus?”

“Lyall.”

“Oh!” Walburga’s head shoots up. “You don’t happen to mean Lyall Lupin? The great werewolf activist?”

“Yes,” Remus says tightly. “That’s the one.”

His face is blank but Sirius can see the tension underneath, the electric current of barely-controlled rage. He reaches over the table, brushes Remus’ pinky with his, feels Remus’ shudder.

Walburga exchanged glances with her husband. “Oh yes! We went to one of us conferences, a while ago. He was quite big on limiting werewolf rights if I remember correctly. As he should. Disgusting creatures.”

“Monsters,” Remus says quietly. Sirius’ heart breaks.

“Yes. Quite. We went out - remember that Sirius? It was the night you broke you arm.”

“How clumsy,” Orion laughs. “Falling down the stairs and all.”

He didn’t. It was another jibe, another carefully placed barb meant to wound him. He broke his arm alright, a cold winters night in the middle of January but he certainly didn’t get it from falling down the stairs. He meets Walburga’s eyes and knows instantly that she remembers - the screaming, the yelling, the snap of his arm in two.

Sirius gets up abruptly, chucking his napkin into his soup. “I need some air,” he mutters abruptly.

“Sirius - “ his father calls, but Sirius ignores him. He storms out of the dining room, slamming the door behind him.

To be continued....?

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fluff #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius black fanfic #remus lupin fanfic #sirius black angst #remus lupin angst #sirius black fluff #remus lupin fluff #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #walburga black #orion black #regulus black #the black family #harry potter #hp #marauders era