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strawbeerossi · 7 months

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Hot Wax

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After an accidental spill with your wax melts, Spencer discovers something very new about himself.

Content/Warnings: There's some cursing cause duh, wax play, soft dom!reader, sub!Spencer, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 1.5K

Kinktober Day Four: Wax Play

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

It was an accidental discovery, one that you were honestly shocked to find out. You’d gotten new wax melts for the impending autumn season, the smell of vanilla pumpkin had filled the apartment after a few days, getting ready to get the wax changed out when your boyfriend was coming home from work. “Spence!” You offered a wide smile, the heated plate now being picked up with ease as you were walking to the kitchen to clean it out.

However you managed to trip over your own two feet. With a groan echoing through the living room, you realized you’d just thrown hot wax at your partner’s chest.

“Oh my god! Spencer, I’m so sorry!” You’d panicked. What if you gave him severe burns? Well.. The wax wasn’t that hot but it didn’t stop you from stressing that you’d managed to melt his skin off. The mere thought of hurting him made you feel like human garbage.

However what wasn’t mentioned was the tent in Spencer’s pants, the man quickly waving off your many apologies. “Honey, it’s okay. It was an accident.” He spoke, his cheeks flushed because of the blood going straight downstairs. Did he really just pop a boner because I splashed him with wax?

The conversation wasn’t had until a few weeks later, Spencer coming home from a case along with a gift. You were in bed when he walked in, a purple gift bag in his hands. Your eyebrow raised as you glanced up from your book. “Is that a present?” You didn’t miss an anniversary and you knew for sure that it wasn’t your birthday. “Uh, yeah. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

A present and a serious talk. Was he breaking up with you and letting you down easily?

“Don’t look at me like that.” Spencer rushed out when he noticed a falter in the confused look on your face. “It’s not bad but.. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to talk about it.” He spoke while moving to sit on the edge of the bed while pulling out the candle. “Spence, you know I don’t burn candles..” You frowned.

“I do, but this is a, uh, special candle.” The words were soft, embarrassment setting in. What if you told him he was weird? That wax was something that you didn’t want to delve into? The idea made him regret even doing this.

You were confused while reaching out for the candle, looking over the label. It wasn’t something you’d expected from Bath and Body Works. It was labeled as a massage candle. “What is this for?” You’d had a sneaking suspicion, however you wanted to hear him say it. “W-well, its paraffin wax. Did you know it’s actually moisturizing on the skin? It’s said that it can make skin more soft. And uh, it’s.. Very popular for sexual play with wax because it’s safe for skin.”

Sexual wax play.

“So you want me to pour this on you?” You were amused by how flustered Spencer was at the discussion, his hands moving to loosen his tie as he nodded sheepishly. “Y-yeah. I would like to try it.” He admitted, keeping a hand on his tie while he watched your movements carefully.

You unscrewed the lid, slowly moving to open the candle in your hands before bringing it up to your nose to smell it. There was no smell, which was a little disappointing, but hey, there are surely other special candles with nice smells out there. “It’s odorless.” Spencer breathed, stating what you’d already learned.

“Can you do me a favor? I have a box of matches in the kitchen drawer, would you mind-” Before you could even finish, he was rushing out of the bedroom to retrieve the items that you required to start this fantasy off right.

Once he was back in the bedroom with the box, Spencer offered a smile as he was holding them out in your direction, already feeling his heart thudding with anticipation as the candle was lit and set on the nightstand on your side of the bed. “While we wait for it to heat up, get undressed.” You commanded, which his hands worked quickly to undo his tie before clumsily getting out of his clothes. With his work attire thrown in the room, he was stuck in his white briefs. “Come on, silly.” You spoke, opening your arms for him while grinning as he was falling into your arms, your lips almost immediately smashing against his.

The idea of trying something new was exciting. You wouldn’t say that your shared sex life was lacking, on the contrary. It was amazing. The both of you focused on taking care of one another and showering one another in physical affection and intimacy. You took charge a good majority of the time, Spencer being more of a service submissive.

You’d straddled his waist, his hard cock pressed against your clothed ass as you were reaching over to grab the candle from your bedside table. “Ready?” You asked, watching his head nod. “You know better than that.” You spoke while raising an eyebrow. “Let me hear you say that you’re ready or we aren't doing this.”

“Yes! I’m ready. Please pour it on me.” His breath was shaky as he let his hands rest gently against your waist. The minute you tilted the candle, you watched the steady downpour of white wax now make contact with Spencer’s flushed skin. There was a hiss of pleasure coming from your partner. His gaze focused on the wax pool that was quickly drying on his skin. “Feel good?” You asked, watching his head nod slowly. “Y-yeah. Fuck.” The profanity made you decide on pouring more.

This time, you let your hand sit in the warm wax while dragging your hand up his torso. The trail moved fluidly in your hand; the heat spreading to Spencer’s chest as he was whining for more.

You were placing the candle down briefly, much to his dismay. “Gonna ride you while I do this.” You murmured, now lifting your hips to tug your sleep shorts down your legs. You were aching for relief, the idea of pouring hot wax on your partner doing enough to make you crave more than Spencer’s hips rutting against you from below. As you’d gotten your underwear and shorts tossed somewhere in the room, you were straddling his waist once more.

His cock was wet by the amount of precum bubbling over the thick head of his shaft, red and angry for more attention. “Fuck, baby. You really like the wax, don’t you?” You breathe, hand wrapping around his cock while giving it a few tugs. It helped with spreading the helpful substance over the skin, working as lube for an easier time. “Fuck, fuck.” The male whined from his spot, head thrown back. He already looked so fucked out and you both had barely done anything.

Why didn’t you throw wax on him sooner?

After getting your knees settled on either side of his hips, you aligned yourself with his hardened shaft before lowering yourself down with a moan, head tilting back as your sex was swallowing every inch that Spencer offered you. As your hips rolled down into his, your body leaned to the side to take the candle back into your hands, lip between your teeth as you let the stream pour on his chest now, watching the way the wax was clinging to the light hair littering his chest, almost reminiscent of cum accenting his skin.

His hips roughly snapped upwards, catching you by surprise as you bounced upon the impact. You were continuing the onslaught of dousing his body in the hot wax that was sticking onto his skin. “Fuck, Spence. Keep fucking me like that.” You squeaked, his hips continuing to piston into your body, impaling you in the best way possible as you continued glazing his upper body with the candle wax.

“I’m gonna cum! Oh, my god. I’m gonna cum.” He groaned deeply while letting his head tilted back, cock twitching inside of your warmth as he gave a few sloppy thrusts before he was hitting his high. The warm gush of cum inside of you was enough to prompt your own orgasm, both of you groaning and moaning together while Spencer kept a bruising grip on your body.

As you’d both came down from your highs and you blew out the candle, it was back in its place on the nightstand. “God, that was amazing.” You breathed, body lifting from his while you fell onto your back on the bed below you both.

Spencer was quiet for a good while, chest rising and falling from the powerful orgasm he was swimming in. “Anything else we have around the house that you can throw on me?” He questioned, teasing you while he let his head tilt to the side while you laughed, moving to press a kiss against his lips.

“We’ll figure it out.”

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

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Propaganda

Dolores del Río (Flying Down to Rio, Flor silvestre)—to begin with, dolores is so RADIANTLY BEAUTIFUL, even more so in action then in images, its like she emits a literal glow. marlene dietrich (a close friend and rumored lover) considered her "the most beautiful woman who ever set foot in hollywood". she was the first mexican actress to become a major success in hollywood, rising to fame in the silent era and becoming an influential icon of beauty and glamor in the art deco age, though she was not thrilled with the exoticizing parts often pushed on her. in the mid 1940s having tired of the controlling hollywood studio system she returned to mexico, saying "I wish to choose my own stories, my own director and cameraman. I can accomplish this better in mexico", and proceeded to become a pivotal figure in the golden age of mexican cinema, making a string of masterpieces with directir emilio fernández and cinematographer gabriel figueroa. i love this anecdote about the insane art deco mansion she and her then-husband cedric gibbons lived in in the 30s, as related by david niven: "Dolores had a large sunny room on the first floor containing a huge and inviting bed. Gibbons lived in comparative squalor in a small room immediately below. The only connection between these rooms was by way of a stepladder, which could be lowered only when a trapdoor in the floor of Dolores room had been raised. There was a long stick with which, we conjectured, he signaled his intention or hopes by rapping out signals on the floor of his wife’s bedchamber." heres a pinterest album with a billion hot pictures of her

Fay Wray (King Kong)— the original scream queen!! she started acting in silent comedies as a teenager and got her first big break when erich von stroheim cast her as the lead in the wedding march. her career started to take off starring in silent movies at paramount, and she survived the transition to sound smoothly - josef von sternberg’s weird proto-noir thunderbolt was one of her first sound films. she began to make horror movies in the early 1930s, such as doctor x and mystery of the wax museum, both filmed in beautiful two-strip technicolor (which looked like this if you're curious. i just think it's neat!), as well as the vampire bat, the most dangerous game, and of course the boy himself, king kong. a little on how she worked with her most famous costar: “Although Kong appeared huge, the full figure was a model covered with rabbit hair, standing only 18 inches tall, that was filmed one frame at a time by stop-motion photography artist Willis O'Brien and his crew. The 5ft 3in Wray only knew one part of the ape's body when she was grasped in an articulated 8ft long hand. Hence the title of her 1989 autobiography, On The Other Hand. ‘I would stand on the floor,’ she recalled, ‘and they would bring this arm down and cinch it around my waist, then pull me up in the air. Every time I moved, one of the fingers would loosen, so it would look like I was trying to get away. Actually, I was trying not to slip through his hand.’” (link)

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Dolores del Rio:

There's so much! She started in Silent films and successfully transitioned to sound, She is the first woman to wear a two piece swimsuit on screen & popularized the bikini!, She transitioned back to Mexican Cinema in the late 1940s and was a leading lady of the Golden Age of Mexican Cinema including staring in Maria Candelaria--the first Mexican film to win the palm d'Or at Cannes. She was literally studied for her beauty & was considered a beauty ideal in both the USA & Mexico--there's a whole section on her Wikipedia page about how beautiful everyone thinks she was. She never actually had a feud with any of the female stars she was rumored to feud with despite the fact that press & Hollywood culture attempted to pain them in competition... She remained a leader in Mexican theater & Cinema through her own production company. Mexican painter Diego Rivera: "The most beautiful, the most gorgeous of the west, east, north and south. I'm in love with her as 40 million Mexicans and 120 million Americans who can't be wrong" (quote source: Wikipedia)

*fan self* Leading actress in silents and early Hollywood. Lover of Orson Welles until she got fed up with him, friend of Diego Rivera and Frieda Kahlo. When she got tired of Hollywood executives typecasting her as a stereotypical spitfire (and trying to force her to feud with Lupe Velez as a publicity stunt), she ditched Hollywood and became a major star of Mexican cinema, where she got to play rounded characters

Had a career in American cinema in the 20s and 30s and considered one of the most important figures in the Golden Age of Mexican cinema (30s to 50s).

Marlene Dietrich said Dolores was the most beautiful woman to set foot in Hollywood

Joan Crawford: "Dolores became, and remains, as one of the most beautiful stars in the world."

One of the few Latin American women working in the Hollywood industry to make it big not just in hre home country but internationally. In 1931, Photoplay magazine declared that Mexican film actress Dolores del Rio had the "best figure in Hollywood." (which I know not necessarily a good barometer) but! it shows that many people looked at her for her beauty and sought to emulate her. Famous for her years-long love affair with actor and director Orson Welles, who was 10 years her junior if that's anything.

We need more hispanic representation in this!! Del Río is one of the most important actresses of her time as she was one of the first Mexican movie stars to break through to Hollywood! She’s unbelievably sexy and an absolute icon. Thank you :)

Fay Wray:

Actress prominently known for starring in horror, she was one of cinema's original "scream queens". She knocks it out of the park whenever she's with the horror genre, bringing a depth and likability to characters that would other be flat and boring characters.

An early scream queen, name me another woman who could look so beautiful while so disheveled and scared for her life

She was name-dropped not once but TWICE in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. She's arguably the original Scream Queen.

#fay wray #dolores del río #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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mybutcheredtongue · 4 months

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I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline Sirius Black x fem!reader

You lived out your years at Hogwarts with the company of your best friends, Lily Evans and Alice Fortescue. You fell in love with one of the infamous Marauders, Sirius Black. After school, you married and became Mrs Black, living in a home full of love and life with your faithful husband. Your happy life is cut short when Sirius is wrongfully convicted of the murder of Peter Pettigrew and several muggles, and sent straight to Azkaban without trial. The Ministry thinks you must be connected, but after several days of investigation and questioning, litres of veritaserum pumped thrown down your throat, you're proven innocent. You have maintained his innocence ever since, knowing Sirius would never do something like that. The only person who'll hire you is Albus Dumbledore, and with his help your name is reverted to its maiden and your past is buried deep.

This story follows your life during your time as a professor at Hogwarts when Harry Potter joins the school and everything changes.

FULL of angst but has a happy ending.

No use of Y/N

This fic is mostly a collection of moments and scenes! So a lot of time skips.

p.s. title is from the song "I Love You" by Fontaines D.C. — one of my favourite bands!! would so so recommend checking them out :)

CHAPTER ONE (see full series list here)

1991

You glance at your watch, the hand ticking slowly as it moves to show 9:03 p.m.

Finally, the large wooden door opens and a scrawny young boy pushes forward, huffing tiredly, and less than 20 odd first-year students filter into the astronomy tower.

"Evening, everyone!" You say cheerfully. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws stand awkwardly as they gaze around the room in wonderment.

You feel proud of it. The last astronomy professor had left this room a little...boring, so when you came into employment you spruced it up a little bit. Though there aren't many to write on, each wall is plastered in hand-painted constellations with their names in 5 languages written underneath. You had cast a spell on the floor to conjure up a moon, one that matched the real one's lunar phases. Today, a waxing gibbous.

Telescopes line the edges of the circular room, each pointing high into the sky. You eye your favourite for a moment, the same telescope you'd used during your own years as a student at Hogwarts.

It feels like home in this room.

"Welcome to the Astronomy Tower," you say with a smile. "Here, you'll learn all about the wonders of our universe and its planets, galaxies, stars...everything. Please, find a telescope and stand behind it. We'll start with charting some simple constellations today."

The students obediently line behind a telescope each. Your eyes immediately focus on a young boy, with jet black hair and circular glasses. You lose your train of thought for a moment, feeling as though you're looking at a ghost.

He's the very image of James Potter.

Then, he turns to look at you and his eyes strike you. Green and vibrant, full of youth and gentleness.

Lily.

You feel your breath catch in your throat, but quickly shake your head of the grief and clap you hands, smiling at the students again.

"Astronomy is one of the very few subjects that is present in both the wizarding and the muggle world. That means that there are millions of resources out there for all of you to use, whether it be from a wizarding standpoint or a muggle one! Interesting stuff," you continue. "Now, I want you all to do a small task for me. Look through your telescope — please don't change any lenses just yet — and try and see if you can spot a constellation. Then, using the first page of your book, see if you can figure out which constellation it is. Call me over when you think you have one!"

The students immediately start rooting through their bags for their Astronomy textbooks and you sigh gently, content with your introduction. First-years are always well interested and curious about everything, so Astronomy is a pretty easy subject for them to get into. After all, lots of the first year curriculum is just looking at pretty stars and constellations.

"Professor, I think I have one!" A young Gryffindor girl with bushy brown hair and an excited face says to you, throwing her hand in the air enthusiastically.

You smile, walking over to her. "What's your name, dear?"

"Hermione Granger, professor."

"And what constellation do you think you've found?"

"Aquila, professor," she beams, pointing a finger to the small, 'T' shaped constellation in her book.

You close one eye and look through her telescope, noticing it immediately.

You grin at her. "Well spotted, Miss Granger! Excellent work." You glance at her scarlet and gold tie. "5 points to Gryffindor for being the first one!"

Her face lights up proudly.

"Now, let's see if you can find any of the stars present in it. Any at all, though you may find it difficult to differentiate — "

"The star of Altair, professor!"

Your eyes widen and you chuckle in surprise. "Well, aren't you just making my job a whole lot easier for me? Well done, Miss Granger. Please chart that constellation down on some parchment and continue looking."

In the next few minutes, many students find constellations and are charting them down. One boy seems to be having a particularly difficult time.

"Neville Longbottom, isn't it?" You say as you wander up to him. He jumps at the sound of your voice, knocking his forehead against the edge of his telescope and letting out a small yelp of pain. "Oh, sorry..." You wave your wand gently and his eyebrows raise, bringing a hand to his forehead in surprise.

"Just a small healing spell. For minor, minor injuries," you tell him. "How is your charting going?"

The boy's cheeks go red and his eyes focus on the floor beneath him. "I...haven't been able to find one, professor. I — I thought I had one ages ago, but there were too many stars in it..."

"Let me have a look, Mr Longbottom," you say kindly, bringing your eye up to the lens and grinning. "Well, you most definitely have found one. One I didn't think anyone would find!"

You glance at Neville's face, and he's the picture of shock.

"Pisces, Mr Longbottom. Trust your judgement! Excellent work."

Neville grins, and you step aside, but not before he says something else.

"Uh, professor..."

"Yes?"

"How do...how do you know my name?"

You study his face and smile again. The very picture of Frank Longbottom. With Alice Fortescue's mousy hair.

"I went to school with your parents, Mr Longbottom. You're the spitting image of your father."

Next, the young boy with jet black hair and glasses calls you over. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.

"What one have you found, Mr Potter?"

As he looks at you, green eyes connecting with your own, you try your hardest not to see Lily staring back at you. You try your hardest not to picture your best friend, your honourary sister, a woman of true light in a world full of darkness.

Your heart has felt lonely since her absence. Since James. Since Alice. Since Frank. Since Peter.

You blink.

"Uh, Canis Major, I think?"

You swallow hard. Of course.

"Let me have a look see..." He's right of course, you don't even need to look. You can spot that constellation any night without a telescope. You know it like the back of your hand. "You're dead right, Mr Potter. Brilliant constellation, that is. Canis Major means 'the Great Dog', and it actually contains the brightest star in the night sky visible to our naked eye, Si — "

"Oh, wait, hold on..." Harry says, flicking through his book to find the page on Canis Major. He pauses, eyes skimming down the page. "Uh, Sirius, right?"

You bite your lip, feeling your heart speed up. You take a deep breath, forcing a smile. "Yes, Mr Potter. Sirius."

Your favourite star.

Your favourite person.

Your heart has been broken since his absence.

"Good work." You promptly spin on your heel, heading for your desk as you glance down at your watch. "Alright, everyone. Excellent work today! Now, I won't set anyone any written homework...but if you're truly interested and find you have a little free time, try and see if you can chart any other constellations! Night, everyone."

The students chat animatedly amongst themselves and exit down the spiral stairs, leaving you alone in the room. You sit down at your desk, sighing as you slip a key from your pocket and open one of the drawers. You pull out a small photograph, eyes wandering over the young, elated faces of James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, and yourself.

Graduation day.

One the left, you're standing in the middle of Alice and Lily, arms around them and laughing wholeheartedly. James stands beside Lily, arms around her and Sirius beside him, who's connected with Remus, Peter, and Frank.

You smile weakly. You remember that day, all full of hope and joy. There was some sadness too, sadness to be leaving Hogwarts and ultimately leaving childhood.

Your fingers gently skim over Sirius' face, feeling your heart ache.

What you wouldn't give to go back to that day.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Dear Moony,

I hope you're well! School's started back up again. Been a bit crazy lately, sorry that I haven't written since your last letter. Someone let a troll into the dungeon. Quirrell went mad, fainted in the middle of dinner and set all the students into a panic. It was torture.

Harry's started here. It's hard to look at him sometimes. He's the image of James. It's uncanny. He has Lily's eyes, too. Sometimes I start to feel like I can talk to them through him, even though I know that's mad of me. Neville Longbottom's here too. He's just like his parents. Both in Gryffindor, you'll be happy to know.

Dumbledore's gave me strict instructions not to say a word to Harry about it all. Says it'll be too much for him. He won't be able to understand why I couldn't have raised him instead of the Dursleys. He says that Harry will only start digging around for more information on me if he finds out I'm his godmother. He'd ask about his godfather then. It's too much for a young boy to know that his godfather is in Azkaban.

I wanted to talk to him so bad, Remus. I want to tell him about his parents, show him the photos. I want him to be able to feel at home here, feel like he's got someone here. A part of his family. I know exactly what those Dursleys are like. Petunia always hated James, you know that well enough. I hate that I have to keep this secret for even longer.

I talked to young Neville though. Merlin, he has Alice's clumsiness, that's for sure. Such a sweet lad. He was more than happy to see photos of the two and hear stories about them. I feel like a little bit of the weight that's been hanging over me has been lifted. I even showed him that photo of Alice falling into the Black Lake in 5th Year. If she was of sound mind she'd surely throttle me for that.

I think I need to get out of the castle for a bit. Wanna get a coffee? It's been a while.

I've omitted a few details of the past few weeks so I have something interesting to tell you about next weekend, if you're up for it.

all my love,

You sign the letter, folding up the parchment gently and dropping it in an envelope. You grab your bland wax stamper and press a small circle of black wax over the envelope's seal. You slip it into your pocket and stand up from your bed. Beside you, your black cat, Dubh*, stirs from her sleep and meowls at you.

You give her a loving scratch behind the ears. "Just popping down to the owlery. I'll be back."

On your way down to the owlery, you pass two lanky, identical students with heads full of ginger hair. They haven't noticed you yet. They're peering around the corner at Filch, a suspicious-looking bag in one of their hands.

"Bit late for the two of you to be out, isn't it?" You whisper behind them. They wheel around immediately and their eyes widen in shock.

"Professor! We — uh, we weren't doing anything!" George blurts out.

"Don't you look just lovely tonight, Professor? There is such a...healthy glow about you," Fred remarks suavely and you raise an unamused eyebrow at him.

"I sincerely hope you don't think I'm that thick, Mr Weasley."

"Never, Professor!"

You sigh, shaking your head. "Off to bed, both of you. Quickly, before Filch can catch you. I advise you to keep your pranks within the time you're actually allowed out of bed."

Fred's shoulders slump in disappointment, his want for a good prank evident on his face. George however, is staring at you in surprise.

"No detention?"

Fred immediately smacks his hand over the back of George's head, scowling at him. "Don't give her any ideas!"

"Get going, you two."

They take it this time, quickly scampering down the hallway. You step out from it, into the same one as Filch, who's eyeing you suspiciously.

"Is someone there?"

"Only me, Mr Filch," you answer.

"I thought I heard voices."

"Just me. I was trying to remember a poem I heard recently, it's three pages long. Would you like to hear it?"

Filch's face contorts immediately. "No."

You shrug. "Suit yourself."

You walk past him and out into the cold night air, trying to suppress the smile on your face.

->-> read chapter two here!

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

*Dubh: pronounced 'duv'. Irish word for 'black'.

→ all types of interaction appreciated ♡

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #fanfiction #fanfic #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #angst #angst with a happy ending

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doll-for-you-11 · 14 days

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Its dark. I don't know where I am or how I got here. Its cold. The only thing I can see is a little red light far away. I think I'm naked but I cant move my arms to tell for sure. Something is holding them behind my back. My legs are burning. How long have I been on my knees? Why do my nipples hurt? Is there something hanging off of them? Theres something dripping down my thighs. Am I wet? Everything feels so strange, the air feels thick, my mind is fuzzy.

I gasp. Something cold runs across my stomach. I can hear breathing. Someone is here, but I cant see. Now its running across my face. It feels like leather. Suddenly it slaps against my ass. I try to yelp but something is shoved down my throat. I gag. It tastes like rubber. I feel straps tightening around my face, holding it in my mouth. Its some kind of gag.

Its quiet again. All I can hear is my own ragged breathing. Each breath pulls on whatever is hanging from my nipples. It starts to hurt as my feeling comes back from whatever I was drugged with. Then white pain shoots through me. Gloved hands grip my tits harder than I thought possible. The metal clamps digging in as they grope me.

The hands move down, tugging on what I assume are the chains hanging from the clamps. I hear a low chuckle before a harsh slap hits my face.

My ears are ringing. I see a flash of light. The flick of a lighter. A can make out the silhouette of a large figure standing over me. He flicks the lighter a few more times. Walking around me. I hear a noise behind me. The lighter flashes again but the light stays this time. I see the shadow of the flame flickering. Moving closer to me from behind before i jump. A sudden burning hits the top of my tits. Just as the burning fades, it hits again, lower this time. Just above my already sore nipples.

He kneels in front of me. Close enough for me to make out the mask he's wearing. Black leather gloves holding a long red candle making me watch as the wax slowly drips before hitting my sensitive skin. Each wimper makes him chuckle as he continues until the candle is almost burnt out.

I can feel the hardened wax covering my chest and stomach where its dripped down. I shudder as he lowers a hand to the floor between my thighs. He brings his hand up again to whats left of the candle light where we can both see the wetness dripping between his fingers.

"So desperate" he says. I can hear the smirk in his voice as he blows out the candle leaving us in pitch black again. I feel him stand. A heavy boot brushes against my thigh. I feel a hand on my shoulder pushing me down until my thighs are spread and I feel leather on my dripping cunt. All he says is "grind slut".

I freeze. I can't possibly do something so degrading. But he grips my hair, a hand circling my throat. His hot breath on my ear. "I said, grind". He speaks calmly but his hand tightens on my neck threateningly.

I slowly slide my hips back and forth. Whimpering as I try not to gag on what I assume to be a dildo still down my throat. My hips jolt as my clit brushes the toe of his boot. Im so wet my cunt slides easily on the polished leather. "Faster". I do as I'm told. His hand loosening on my throat. I press down, grinding my hips. Suprised and disgusted by how good it feels.

I find the place that my clit gets the most pressure and begin circling my hips. For a moment I forget my situation and moan around the dildo before being snapped back to reality by a harsh tug to my hair. "Are you actually enjoying this? What a disgusting whore".

Its the most words I've heard him speak. I whimper again at his words, still moving my hips as he pulls his foot away.

"You've made a mess slut. Clean it up" I don't have time to question how before he presses my face to the floor. His shoe pressed to my lips. I start to lick my own juices off his shoe. When he's satisfied he pulls his foot away.

"Tell me what you want" I dont understand what he's asking and try to ask through my gag. "Don't play dumb you stupid cunt. You dont get that messy and wet unless you want cock. Now beg for it." My eyes have adjusted enough to be able to see his silhouette again. I shake my head only to earn another harsh slap.

My head spinning I try to speak, but the gag makes me sound like a pathetic mess. He laughs as I attempt to do as I'm told. He says he cant understand and slaps me again. This time I fall and he straddles me. Both hands circling my throat as he begins to choke me. My eyes widen in panic as I try to beg but the gag makes it impossible to make proper words.

As tears fall, I feel his hands loosen. They reach behind me. Flipping me onto my stomach, still underneath him as he removes the gag. Pressed face down he leans close to me again. "Enough playing around. Im going to flip you over, you are going to get back on your knees and you are going to beg me for my cock in every hole. Understand?". Shaking with tears pouring down my face I reply "yes sir". Its muffled by the concrete he's pressing me into but he must be satisfied because he stands, aggressively pulling me up by my hair and dragging me accross the room towards the red light. Until I can make out that its a camera.

My stomach sinks as I realize ive been being filmed this entire time. "Do as you were told bitch, or the camera will be the least of your problems".

Crying I stumble over my words as I try to speak. "Please" i mumble quietly. "Please what slut" he growls, getting more impatient. "Please...please fuck me..." i cry. I look up at him and see him step closer so I quickly continue. "Please ruin my slutty holes. Im such a desperate slut. My pussy is dripping with my want to be used by your cock." I cry as I speak. Tears running down my face onto my wax covered tits.

"Keep going, Ill stop you when Ive had enough". I shiver but continue. "Please let me feel your cock in my tight ass. Tear me apart and Ill thank you when you've decided youre done with me. Let me choke on your cock. I want to taste your cum. I want to feel it coating every inch of my body. Pouring out of every hole. I want to lick it off the floor and beg you to stuff more and more of it up my ass"

Im still crying as I continue to humiliate myself, I can hear him laughing under his mask. "Please use me as your personal fuck doll. Fuck me so hard I black out and then keep using me. Im a set of holes for you to enjoy. Im a cum dump for you to abuse. Please let me serve you, I want to be..." im cut off as he pulls me close by the nipple clamps making me scream.

He drags me up to standing by my hair before throwing me to the ground. My hands still bound behind my back. He pulls the camcorder off the stand as he presses a knee into my back forcing me down as he pulls my hips up filming what he's about to do. His hand grips my hair pulling my head up as he leans down growling my ear.

"The only hole you have thats worth fucking is this tight virgin asshole. You dont deserve the pleasure of my cock in your whore cunt, and I wouldn't dare put my cock in the same mouth that cleans my shoes"

With that he rams his cock balls deep into my ass. I try to scream but the pain shocks me to silence. He presses my face into the ground as he rails into my ass as rough and fast as he can. My tits and face scrape against the ground, but he doesn't care how much pain Im in. All that matters is him filling my ass with his hot cum.

He fucks into me at an animalistic pace until he finally presses in as deep as he can grunting as I feel hot ropes of cum shoot deep inside me. My body tenses as he holds himself inside me, panting as he leans down a final time. "Little bitches like you only deserve to be used if it hurts, and you're such a little whore that you probably liked it anyway. Look at the camera and say thank you."

My eyes are clouded with exhaustion as I look up into the camera he's holding in my face. I groan at the feeling of his cock still in my ass and I know he's right. I did enjoy it. I speak slowly. "Thank you for using me" he wrenches my hair up again. "You call me Sir, and you thank them for watching. Do it properly cunt".

I whimper again. "Thank you for using me Sir. And thank you all for watching me be broken in like a proper fuck toy". He lets go as my head falls back to the ground and films a close up as he pulls out of my ass, his cum leaking out after it. He grabs the dildo gag from earlier and shoves it up my ass. "There, make sure you hold that up your ass and feel how disgusting you are".

I hear him set up the camcorder on the stand again before walking away. I'm left in this dark room being recorded. Covered in wax, tears and spit. My hands bound behind my back and dildo up my ass. And I shudder at the knowledge that he'll be back. But more so at the fact that no matter how much I want it. I'll never be allowed to feel his cock in my slutty little rape hole cunt.

#free use slvt #r@pe fantasy #cnc free use #dumb slvt #cnc k!nk #r@pe kink #bd/sm slave #rough cnc #k!nky thoughts #cnc kidnapping

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softpascalito · 7 months

Text

Pedro Pascal Kinktober Day Seven

Wax Play - Joel Miller/Reader

Summary: Joel and you are paired up for patrol. There are a lot of things unsaid, a snowstorm rolling in and some candles. Go figure (or go read i guess).

Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader

WC: 1900

Tags/Warnings: Smut, Explicit Content, Genderneutral Reader, Wax Play, Nipple Play, Infected, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Temperature Play, Snowed In, Two decade old ravioli

AO3 LINK

notes: hi babes! another joel piece today, one that is actually one of my favorites! if you enjoyed the first week on kinktober, lmk in a comment <3

_______________________________

The day is cold.

It's a normal patrol and you stomp through the snow that's been blown into the abandoned house, still high on the success of taking out two runners all by yourself. It's a split moment of distraction as you miss the noise coming from the open bedroom door next to you and that split moment is all it takes as the clicker shoots out of the doorframe and slams you into the nearest wall.

“Fuck!” A yell escapes your throat as you try to keep the Infected out of arm's reach, your fingers digging into the fungal plates on its chest as you stare into a face that has lost all its resemblance to the human it must've been years and years ago.

Its mouth is wide open and for a split second you think the agonizing scream you hear is coming from the creature in front of you. Then you realize it's your own.

The moment seems to stretch on endlessly, the fear in your chest starting to be replaced by a dreaded feeling of being doomed, of the realization that this may really be it, when he appears in the hallway.

The gunshot rings in your unprotected ears and through the fog you hear the dampened noise of the clicker falling to the ground next to you, a thud before its body finally goes still.

The grip on you is gone but you can just stare blankly into the thin air in front of you. A few moments later, likely after making sure there's no more Infected around, he's there, in front of you. And now the grip of terror that the Clicker had on you mere seconds ago is replaced by one of tenderness as Joel gently pulls at your shoulders, helping you steady yourself.

His lips are moving but you can't make out the words. You can tell he holds his breath as he lets his hands roam over your body for a few seconds, turning your hands and bending his own neck one way and the other to check for bites. His touch seems to linger slightly longer too, but this time you're thankful for it.

His rough fingers glide over your neck, pulling at your thick winter jacket slightly to make sure there are no scratches on the delicate flesh of your throat. After a glance at your back, he finally seems to let out a small breath of relief and nods as he steps back, allowing you to take a shaky step of your own into the middle of the room.

He kicks the fungal plate on the floor that is now splattered with blood. ”Jesus, this place is overrun with them.” His gaze only lingers on the body for a few moments, then he turns to check the surroundings once more. It pauses on your form, still shaking, your gaze not meeting his.

“Come on, we're done for today.” Joel mutters and he gently nudges your elbow, staying closer than usual as he leads you back to the horses.

The patrol stop on this route is a cabin in a small resort by a lake, a few miles over from Jackson. It's quite scenic, but also harder to reach and unfortunately, more prone to attacks from Infected.

“It ain't too far now.” Joel calls to you through the snow blowing around your horses.

It takes a little longer than usual to get both of you into the saddles with how shaken you still are and the abandoned house has cost even more time. The wind has picked up while you have been inside and now the storm seems to be getting closer by the second, inevitably making the way back to Jackson that much harder.

“Should we turn back?” You pipe up, speaking again for the first time. He shakes his head, ”No, I reckon it's best to just find shelter. Cabin should be stocked up.”

During the winter months, it's not unusual for patrols to stay out overnight, especially if running into bad weather or blocked paths. Noone will worry if you spend the night here and go back in the morning.

Just as the wind starts to get really uncomfortable, you spot the large wooden sign marking the entrance to the small resort and Joel leads the way to the cabin frequented for the patrols. You lead the horses into the attached garage and shovel some snow into a tub to make sure they have some water while Joel secures the area.

After he declares it safe to stay, he locks the front door, ”Ain't like anyone gonna make it out this far in the storm either way.” He mutters under his breath but he is rather safe than sorry.

You stay quiet, huddled into a corner as you wait for him to give you more instructions. He doesn't.

Instead, he gets out some cans and stirs up a quick dinner for both of you. The two decade old ravioli taste like nothing to you and you struggle to even finish the small portion he has handed you.

Darkness has fallen when you're both done eating and Joel finds the candles spread around the small cabin and starts lighting them, glancing through the curtains as he does. Then, his gaze wanders back to you, still in the same position you've been in since you arrived.

“You're awfully quiet over there.” He mutters.

“Sorry, just- It's been a long day.” You reply quietly, staring at the empty cans in front of you. You can practically feel his gaze on you as he speaks, ”Yeah, reckon it has been.”

You both stay quiet for a moment and he returns to your side, pushing the half-empty cans away with his boot before he sits down, his gaze never leaving your form. His voice is quiet and gentle when he speaks.

“It didn't get you.”

“I know.”

He pauses again for a moment. And then-

“I wouldn't let it.”

“I know.”

Your own voice is shaking and suddenly, you feel like crying. He stirs next to you and a split second later you're cuddling into him, your face resting against the middle of his chest, the leather jacket he refuses to stop wearing framing your head on both sides.

Time doesn't matter as you stay enveloped in him, taking in the scent that smells like safety, the voice that sounds like a distant lullaby and the arms that feel like home around you.

You can feel yourself falling asleep and eventually, Joel nudges you a little. He has pulled your can of food back towards you and sighs, ”Come on, finish dinner and then you can go to sleep, hm?”

You whine into his chest and he sighs. ”Look, I'll warm it up for you again.”

He does, turning the small cooker back on to generate a little more heat, all the while keeping one arm securely around you. When he's satisfied, he turns the small flame off again and pulls you back a little.

You gaze up at him and he sighs softly before grabbing a fork and, one by one, bringing the leftover ravioli to your mouth. You know you would never admit it, but you do feel a little better once your stomach is actually full and you yawn a little as he cleans up while you reach for your sleeping gear.

Not wanting to attract attention, you don't start fires unless absolutely necessary so tonight it's staying warm in your thick jackets and sleeping bags. You huddle into the corner of the cabin, crawling into the bag as Joel brings a candle over. He reaches for a shelf above you but the wax is already quite melted and a small drop falls down onto your exposed arm. You yank it back, hissing a bit before it turns into a whine. ”Watch it,” You mutter under your breath and Joel almost instantly stops in his tracks.

Not because he's worried. But because he knows that whine.

It's the same noise you make when he's buried deep inside of you, when you beg him to finally move.

Slowly, careful not to drop too much, he repeats his motion, this time on purpose.

“What are you- Joel!” The hot wax hits your arm again and the combination of the warmth in contrast to the coldness that's surrounding you draws another whine from your lips. He smirks at his find and places the candle next to the makeshift bed, kneeling down so he can place both hands on the top of your sleeping bag, waiting for permission. You nod quickly and he pulls it down until it pools at your hips before tugging on your sweater:” Why don't you take that off for me, darlin?”

You comply, raising your arms as he helps you out of the thick piece of clothing. He carefully places it next to you before his hands return to you, fingers ghosting over your chest and tracing the lines and curves of it. The cold immediately gives you chills and Joel rubs the palms of his hands over your sides and your stomach for a moment to warm you up before leaning down to kiss each side gently.

Then, he carefully reaches for the candle and you watch the flickering light of it dance over his features as he tilts it very slowly right above your chest. Your gaze wanders to the source of light and you watch as the wax slowly begins to flow towards the edge until eventually a small drop falls down- and the hot sensation it creates on your skin travels through your body and from your chest right down to your middle. The whine is a breathless gasp this time and a curse escapes your lips, ”Fuck-”.

Joel chuckles lowly, clearly enjoying himself. He repeats the motion in different spots, letting a few small and then larger drops of wax fall to your skin until one hits your nipple and you gasp loudly in response, your legs clenching together as the heat from the candle seems to transfer to pool in your lower abdomen. Your hand darts out from under the covers to grab at Joel's shirt, fisting it in your hand. ”Joel, please ,” You whimper.

“Please what?” He hums, a soft tone of amusement in his voice.

“Please touch me, please, it's too much, it feels so- I don't know, I just need- I need you-” You blurt out, unable to contain yourself any longer.

He chuckles again, a little softer now and shushes you as he puts the candle away, placing both hands on your chest and scratching at the hardened wax. It stings a bit as it comes off but it's just the right amount of pain and this time, he catches your whimpers with his mouth as he leans down to kiss you deeply, occupying what feels like every inch of your body.

He crawls over you, mouth never leaving yours as he shifts into the sleeping bag with you, his hands beginning to wander lower.

You spend the night entangled, limbs mixing under the thick fabrics of blankets and jackets and sleeping bags until you no longer know where he begins and where you end. He kisses your neck as you drift off to sleep hours later.

The night is warm.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #fanfic #tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel miller #joel miller / you #smut #wax play #kinktober #softpascalito #the last of us

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lilaccosmic · 19 days

Text

Title: Midnight temptations

Jude jazza x Reader

Note: hello there robins here is my first and one of a kind post i just wanted to start with jude first because I noticed ya all are so obsessed with him so i made him but compare to the fanfictions i made from him thats less spicy but this is much spicer so i hope you like it all and here is a quote from jude

Quote from Jude: take it off let me see your hot and sexy figure !

Warning: Minors don’t interact !!!

The night draped around you like velvet as you followed Jude into his apartment, the air heavy with anticipation and the promise of something deliciously forbidden. With a smirk, he locked the door behind you, the click echoing like a whispered invitation to surrender to the allure of the night. Each step you took deeper into his domain felt like stepping into a dream, where inhibitions melted away like wax in a flame, leaving only the raw, unbridled desire in its wake.

Without a word, Jude’s eyes met yours, a silent exchange of longing and lust that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His gaze held a hunger that mirrored your own as he closed the distance between you, his presence a magnetic pull drawing you closer. The heat of his body pressed against yours sent a jolt of electricity through your veins, igniting a wildfire of need as his lips captured yours in a searing kiss.

In that moment, time stood still, the world outside fading into insignificance as you surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch. His hands, both tender and commanding, explored every inch of your body with a fervor that left you breathless and wanting more. You melted into his embrace, lost in the heady scent of his cologne, the taste of him lingering on your lips like a forbidden fruit.

“I’ve been craving this moment,” Jude confessed against your mouth, his voice a low, velvety whisper that sent shivers of anticipation down your spine. “To have you here with me, alone, feels like a dream I never want to wake from.”

His words hung in the air like a promise, stirring something primal within you, a hunger that demanded to be sated. With a fierce urgency, you responded to him, matching his passion with your own as you delved deeper into the depths of desire.

With a tantalizing touch, Jude guided you to his bedroom, the soft glow of moonlight casting a sinful halo around him as you crossed the threshold. The room seemed to pulse with anticipation, the air thick with the promise of ecstasy as you fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and longing.

The sensation of cool sheets against your feverish skin was a stark contrast, intensifying the sensations coursing through your body as Jude’s hands roamed freely over you, setting your nerve endings ablaze with every caress. His touch was a symphony of pleasure, each stroke a crescendo of ecstasy that left you trembling with desire, your body aching for release.

“I need you,” Jude murmured against your skin, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered sweet promises of ecstasy and abandon. “More than anything, I need to feel you, to lose myself in the heat of your passion.”

His words ignited a wildfire within you, a hunger that demanded to be sated. You arched into him, your body aflame with longing as you surrendered yourself to the rapture of his touch, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of your shared desire.

In the stillness of the night, you became lost in each other, your bodies moving together in a primal dance of ecstasy and longing. The outside world faded into oblivion as you lost yourselves in the moment, your passion building with each frenzied breath until it reached a fever pitch, consuming you both in a blaze of ecstasy.

And as the night wore on, the lines between reality and fantasy blurred, lost in a haze of passion and desire that left you gasping for breath, clinging to each other as if afraid to let go. When morning finally came, and the first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, you knew that this was more than just a fleeting moment of pleasure; it was a love story written in the stars, destined to burn bright for eternity.

Taglist:

@judejazza this one is for you my dear i hope you like your husband this spicy 💕dont forget to look at the Quote first before reading this

Feel free to send me your requests and questions to me 😊

#ikemen villians jude #ikemen villians #ikemen series

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Note

hi heartfullofleeches its my b'day today and i honestly feel nothing so i wanted to ask how the supernatural harem celebrates reader's b'day? totally ignore it if it's not possible love u mwah <3

(Happy birthday! Hope this is to your liking)

"Quiet, you'll wake them before it's time."

"I don’t see why we're doing this now anyway when we can do it in the morning."

"Shut up, asshole, we have to start from the second the day begins."

You wake in the middle of the night due to commotion overhead. The faint smell of burning wax hits you before you're fully conscious. Opening your eyes, you see your three housemates hovering over you; a large tray in the arms of the demon.

"Wha...?"

All three individuals look down at you.

"Happy birthday!"

"Happy birthday..."

"Happy birthday, sweetheart."

The lights flicker on, Alasdair and Maddox sitting at the end of your bed, while Baron places a large cake in your lap with enough candles you were almost glad the fire alarm had been out of order for the past month. You look towards the clock; exactly on the dot of midnight - the technical start of a new day.

"Happy birthday, Y/n." Alasdair repeats. "It's been a pleasure to spend the time we've had together. I never imagined I'd celebrate this occasion with you, but I still plan to make it a memorable day."

Baron cuts him off. "He says that, but they both tried to stop me from waking you up."

"Regardless.." Maddox murmurs. "It's still a moment we're all happy to share with you. I'm... happy to be here for you. Being able to celebrate the life of your loved one is.. nice."

Baron grips your shoulders, nudging you in the direction of the came. "Blow out the candles so we can give you your first gifts."

Giving Maddox and Alasdair a second glance; you notice items in their hand. One, a sketchbook and the other a small box. Taking a deep breath, you blow out the candles; the small crowd clapping in cheer.

Alasdair is first, sliding the box across the bed. Upon opening it, you find a dagger about the length of your middle finger to your wrist. It had a golden handle, and a silver blade; decorated in small gems. A figure of a snake sat around the base of the blade; its jaws unhinged.

"It's a blade blessed by one of the highest ranking angels. With how the world is, carrying a little protection is needed sometimes."

Maddox is next, placing the sketchbook in your lap for you to see as they look down at their lap. Flipping through the pages, you find various drawings of yourself, ranging from realistic to their own style.

"I've got into art a while ago, and Alasdair said I had some talent in it, and you're the only thing I've been drawing recently so I thought you wouldn't mind if I did a few for you.. Hope you like it."

Baron holds his hand out to you, feeling wrapping his gift was unnecessary. Nestled in his large palm is a locket. Oval in shape, and fitted with a red gem in its center - swirling patterns engraved around it. It looked a bit dated in age, but had been freshly polished. He sheepishly rubs his neck as you take it. There's a small photo inside of the four of you or the best resemblance of one. It was from a time when you tried to take one, and it came out as good as anyone would expect. Absolute chaos.

"Dont worry, I have cooler stuff planned for later. It's may not much, but it's something personal to me and so I want you to have it.

You put the locket on, pendant falling to your chest. "I like it. Thank you, all of you."

They gather around to give you a hug. Baron on one side, Alasdair the other, and Maddox in front as the cake is moved aside. As he stands up, Alasdair takes your hand and places a kiss on the back of your palm.

"There will be more time to celebrate later. We'd like to give space to rest for your special day, but hope you don't mind us staying beside you tonight."

#yandere harem #Supernatural yandere #yandere oc #soft yandere #Yandere demon #yandere angel #Yandere grim reaper #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #Yandere fluff

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thepringlesofblood · 3 months

Text

the summoning choreography chart

lads the autism got me again. we're in npmd lockdown.

I finally managed to figure out which little 'dance' belongs to each Lord In Black in "The Summoning" bc its hard to tell and it was bugging me. here's a vid for reference.

wiggly - space invaders lookin shit probably meant to be emblematic of his mouth tentacles (0:58, 1:52)

nibbly - licks his lollipop - when others do this they mime licking their hand or any other prop they're holding (1:06, 1:15)

blinky - makes a little triangle w his fingers and looks through it (when pokey does this he looks through his mask) in a sweeping left to right motion (his left). (1:12, 4:53)

tinky - both arms out front and then both arms back cross-country skiing vibes (4:58)

pokey - alternates one arm up one arm down giving drama, michael jackson, disco vibes (1:01, 1:09, 1:19, 3:01)

they each start 'out of the depths of hell and back' doing their own dance and then switch around doing each others dances until 'you summon us once, you summon us twice'

when I compared it to the digital ticket version and I was able to determine the exact order of each Lord's choreography

so i made a chart for yall who wanna learn the summoning choreography under the cut.

i need to sleep

glossary of dance moves and the shorthand i used for them.

im not a choreographer. i am bad at describing how people move in space. so. I used timestamps from the reference video from before. please god do not follow my mediocre descriptions - watch the people in the video do it and copy them.

W - Wiggly (0:58, 1:52)

N - Nibbly (1:06, 1:15)

B - Blinky (1:12, 4:53)

T - Tinky (4:58)

P - Pokey (1:01, 1:09, 1:19, 3:01)

SS - shoulder shimmy (1:21, 4:05, 5:12) (the lords in black-ah, the lords in black-ah)

JN - jerky nod (1:25, 2:26, 5:06) (the devil has won it can't be undone)

KK - karate kid (wax on/wax off) (2:29)

KKT - karate kid tree edition - there’s one wax on for each side and then they do a thing in the middle that looks kinda like a tree. Idk how else to describe it thats why i add timestamps. (5:00)

WW - whatever we want (2:57)

TR - tra la la la (the skip they do on Stephanie has got a gun) (4:31) (it's hard to see in this version, i highly recommend checking out the digital ticket version if possible. they show this move first in the proshot bc they focus entirely on steph for the next line, but it does go second in order behind KK - you can see jon start to do KK at the transition into chunk 5 in the ref video, and at the end of the chunk he's bent forward bc he just got done doing the bowing part at the end of TR (you can see pokey doing that like 3 seconds earlier after nibbly does the skipping part)

i divided the song into chunks based on when the singing/dancing starts & stops.

Chunk 1 (0:58-1:31)

Chunk 2 (1:52-2:00)

Chunk 3 (2:26-2:32)

Chunk 4 (2:57-3:04)

(they don't dance on 'we don't give a shit about your phone' but it's b/w these two chunks in case you're interested)

Chunk 5 (4:31-4:37)

Chunk 6 (4:53-end)

The dance changes every two lines-ish, and each time they all change together. they all do the same thing for chunks 3-5 so I only included it on the first one (Pokey)

each lord in black does each move a lil differently so don't sweat if you can't do it the exact same way as the one (1) example I was able to find of x move in the proshot lol

Pokey Chunk 1

KKT

Chunk 2

Chunk 3

Chunk 4

Chunk 5 (Stephanie has got a gun)

Chunk 6

KKT

Nibbly Chunk 1

KKT

Chunk 2

3-5 are the same Chunk 6

KKT

Wiggly Chunk 1

KKT

Chunk 2

3-5 same

Chunk 6

KKT

Blinky Chunk 1

KKT

Chunk 2

3-5 same

Chunk 6

KKT

Tinky (curt ATE in this role lets be real)

Chunk 1

KKT

Chunk 2

3-5 same

Chunk 6

P (ooh a break w tradition rip nibbly tho)

KKT

#npmd #original post #starkid

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devilscreekballad · 1 year

Text

Have the first 1078 words of Mrs Meadows' POV in ch7:

---

You wake up feeling as if you had been thrown under a carriage. Which is to say slightly worse than what has become your regular morning ever since Nate's death.

This morning's additional misery, you reckon, stems partially from the past day's stress and irritating nature, and partially from spending the night in the armchair by the window, as you have left the room's beds to Miss Beauchêne and Finley. It's approximately a 30-70 split.

You stretch, slowly and deliberately, evaluating which muscles, joints or ligaments will give you the most struggle. Everything is shaping up to become another long day ahead, and if your instincts do not fool you, said day has just started.

"Are you always up this early?" someone - Miss Beauchêne you recognize after a longer moment than is reasonable- asks.

"Good morning," you respond with a trace of sourness directed rather at the pain between your shoulder blades than at the younger woman. "Yes, I am."

You push the heavy curtains aside to peer out and nod curtly. It's not long past sunrise, the town is in the process of waking up, so your instinctual assessment of the current hour has been correct.

"Granted, under normal circumstances I'd be up and about at a much earlier hour," you add, getting up and pulling hair pins from the now unruly birds nest your hair has become. On the bed Miss Beauchêne comments on the sentiment of getting up that early with a short noise of distaste and disapproval.

"Have you slept well?" you ask, as you sit down in front of the vanity mirror, ignoring that sentiment.

"I guess," Miss Beauchêne responds, sitting up from the reclining position she had been in. "It's hard to sleep after all what has happened."

You just hum in agreement, brushing out your hair. Although you recognize that Miss Beauchêne might be in the best position to understand what is commonly robbing you of a healthy sleep, you see no reason to unnecessarily involve her in your problems.

"You really didn't need to let me have the bed," Miss Beauchêne notes, as she moves to see to her own morning routine.

"Yes, I did. You needed it much more urgently, and I'm used to unorthodox sleeping places."

Miss Beauchêne gives you a quite suspicious and scrutinizing look, a trace of misplaced concern on her face.

"Fall asleep on your desk often?" she ventures, making small talk, you figure.

"More often than I would like," you humor her.

"I don't reckon overworking oneself is a healthy habit." She draws a heavy breath that gives away her next words, before a single syllable has even left her lips "Believe me, I know." "I had no intention to doubt you. But I prefer people staying out of my business."

Again Miss Beauchêne casts you a measured and measuring glance, before turning back to seeing about herself.

So do you.

It isn't until Miss Beauchêne produces a little container from her belongings that your attention is on anything but yourself.

First you only pay little attention to the object. It is reminiscent of a thumb-sized bullet cartridge and its use eludes you, until Miss Beauchêne twists the contraption's bottom, producing what looks to be a stick of beeswax out of the device, bringing it to her lips.

"That is quite an interesting thing to see," you note. Miss Beauchêne looks at you rather surprised.

"I would have thought you would know what lipstick is," she says, and you search her face for evidence of mockery. You find none.

"I do, but I was talking about the device you house it in. It is quite ingenious."

At this Miss Beauchêne's lights up into a delighted beam.

"That is too kind, ma'am. I made it myself."

"Oh?"

"Yes." There is an odd joy to be found in seeing the young woman's eyes sparkle as she breaks into an excited explanation. "I had a look into what a lipstick, or a stick of lip balm as it is in this case, could be put into to make it, well, more of a practical device. I got frustrated with the tins and jars and wax papers, it all proved to be quite impractical, a little unhygienic if one looked at it closer, and I have rather dry lips much to my dismay, so I am often in need of some sort of ointment."

"It does look a little like a bullet cartridge," you point out, and Miss Beauchêne nods.

"That's what it is. Well, originally was. What I took the inspiration from I mean. Frankford Arsenal's .45 Colt cartridges, alongside some modified glass tubes. It was quite a bit of fiddling to get the twisting mechanism to work, and since then I refined it to make it more reliable. The result is what you see here."

You arch your brows in an impressed and inquisitive arc.

"Impressive, I must say, really impressive. Patent pending, I presume."

At this Miss Beauchêne — done with applying lipbalm — closes the devise and purses her lips in dismay.

"Mrs. Meadows, with all due respect, but I believe you can guess how just [i]trying[/i] to file for a proper patent would go for people like us. For someone who happens to be a woman, and not a white one on top of that. If I'd file a patent, it's all too likely that nothing will come of it, until I am old and grey and not in any position to defend my rights, when, poof, a white man will miraculously invent the exact same device."

You roll your eyes. Not in annoyance at Miss Beauchêne, but in annoyance at a world in which these words carry far too much truth for their own good.

"And then he'd get celebrated by the press for making the lifes of those poor, feeble women so much easier with this revolutionary device," you agree, dryly and bitterly. "All while still condemning said women for using lipstick in the first place."

You both exhale tiredly and in unison.

In a strained silence the two of you finish your morning routines, and you duck behind the wooden screen nearby to change into clothes that have not been slept in.

"But, well," Miss Beauchêne picks up the hanging thread of discussion, "I still hope to live long enough to see a change for the better."

"Becoming immortal is quite an ambitious endeavour," you observe, pinning your hair up proper.

#baodc meadows #baodc spoilers

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theallenshorefangirl · 10 months

Text

I did it....The Sorrow has not one, not two, but.....three! And holy shit someone really pissed her off

*Cough Cough* (Desmond mentioned Max and Allen's Incedent when he had her calmed down in Phase 2) nice one Doc

W.I.P 3rd phase Sorrow

Also, I can't draw hands. I hate em

Intro:*The room glass is sunroof shatters, and the sky is pitch black. There is a forever Lunar eclipse that burns brightly as shooting starts dart the sky a now (a couple inches shorter than the Flash's form). The wax figure stood there,her jacket was now like a second pair of arms, and her fin crown had a wax veil with small splatters of yellow sparkles.Her sweater dress is now covered in wax the masks features are more spooky and she has a shawl from the leftover jacket.

Her beaten(understood) form will be missing the wax jacket,slippers her fin crown, and her purple kinda burnt long sleeve sweater can be seen,her hair is messy, and the mask is back to its original version only the yellow outline is now a brighter yellow and purple color but the wax tears move burning her hands in the process as she scoots away into the dark.Desmond then proceeded to reach out his hand but she wasn't there only a note....written for Allen in two tone ink

To Allen

Is it my fault you did what you did, or was you trying to get my attention to let me know they were here,I got there too soon and looked apon the ash and the rubble.I could smell the oil and the fires flames.Oh dear brother I call you,was it my fault that I caused your wings to melt? Was it my fault? Oh, please tell me from your resting mind your own thoughts running through your head? Please just tell me I caused your fall. My tears never stop running down my cheeks like they are the tears of the night shooting stars,and I, the moon who would have helped your wings to stay intact, burned your wings aswell? Oh dear brother, I called you. Please tell me

Forever stricken down like a sorrowful tear,Zoe :(

Astrology Dollhouse figure quotes

A ghostly lady watches her reflection sobbing in tears at her lost beauty(astrology mirror,basement)

A pitted soul drowning in the forever haunting light (Astrology moon flower garden on a pillar where the moon shines)

A bullheaded bull fixing his family to bad its already crumbled apart (in a dark area that was collapsed due to it was filled with sun tapestries and bright lights (room where you aquire flash beacon 3rd floor)

A giant tower prays for his fallen brothers and searches for an easy target (in the 2nd floor, a small set up of all the other areas with small painted figures)

You ask about me. I isolated myself away from the others to keep myself from harming others. I trap myself in the stars above (Her room hidden in the astrology moon room of the 5th floor)

(I can't mention the others til I draw the mini dolls,they look like the Homa Mart doll puzzle ones)

#insoundmindocthesorrow #ismoc

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mushroommortem · 5 months

Note

👀 :D

Prologue

A Hubris Version of Oneself.

A lone child, cradling onto it’s false fur, sitting at the open meadow as the sky dresses herself in maroon. Yellow strands dyed with orange, fading in terracotta spots to reach her figure.

But they never could.

All they do is lightly brush against her.

She sees the small mammal. Covered in soot, dirt, and iron. The grip staining it’s very hands. Noticing the way it tries to dig just a bit further into its’ own skin. Droplets running down its’ cheeks were meet with hushed whimpers.

Her voice attempts to soothe the cries, gust chiming against grass so she can be heard.

All it does is sink it’s body further into itself.

However.

It looks up regardless.

“Why did you do this?”

The pup said, it’s speech coated of dried herbs sticking onto it’s waxed throat.

“Why make this decision? Why did you left me this. Th-this thing?”

Clenching the soft, warm wool with shaken paws. Burying the fabric close to the chest.

The sky whistled back. Quietly, so that only the child could understand her words. A simple murmur. One filled with sorrow and confusion, sounding high pitch towards the end.

“I didn’t want this! I didn’t want any of this! A-and now-- you…”

The horizon slowly shift alongside the pup’s demeanor. No longer holding on with the same strength, or reasoning. Lowering to the ground, it’s puffy eyes began to wore itself down.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. I-i didn’t mean to shout.”

Pink was now grasping her hue. Her seams lost in the mash of color and emotion. She knew what it meant, yet it was not time. Not for a little while.

Scattered clouds move at an absence of an explanation, a lack of comfort that couldn’t be provided. Inching their way together with all their might from the sheer will of her very being.

Another attempt.

The small, hairy beast watched from afar. Squinting as it barely is able to make out the shape.

Standing to confirm it’s suspicions.

And once it was seen, it couldn’t be undone.

It’s pupils widen as hitches reverberate from it’s lungs,

“It looks just like you.”

A sudden fit of laughter burst from the creature, several more steams followed right with it.

“Well. That’s stupid of me to say. Any cloud would look just like you.”

There was a roar carried by the winds. A sense of gratification. Accomplishment over easing the tension at hand. So much so the child had to hug the cloth as tightly as it could.

Claws poking at the fresh leather lining.

It couldn’t bare to lose the gift she had parted.

Even if the pup preferred it wasn’t seen as such.

The sky starts to settle her excitement as the veil was thinning, finding the mammal staring at the wool intensely.

A stilling silence between the two.

Continuously while time folds into the next second, then minute. Hour.

Until it shifts with the horizon once again.

It takes an inhale, before wrapping the lamb over itself.

The metallic scent consuming the pup’s nasals. Slight gags barely able to contain themselves as flesh laid across the back of its charcoal fur, ridges and lumps to remind the wolf that there used to be bones. Outlining and holding up shape for meat. For limbs. For a face.

There used to be a person, and now it occupies her empty space.

A weary smile plastered the expression.

Uncertain if this is what’s to become.

The sky is no longer certain either.

What she saw was something and nothing at all.

A warped, uncanny body was now looking up at her. A constant shifting shape that only distorted itself the more you tried to find consistency. A jagged and chewed up puzzle piece in a gaping hole. One that didn’t fit her. One that didn’t fit it.

A shadow within a shadow within a shadow within a gash.

Greens and blues were creeping into her. Spreading to the center of the sky as she’s no longer apart of the scene. Reds that once wore her were now melting into the sunset. The clouds lose their composure as they dissipate, breaking into little section of themselves.

Becoming smaller. Insignificant.

“I… should get going. Can’t stay here forever, right?”

It says as it sniffles it’s snout, sliding the gutted head over its ears, folding the cartilage.

It pivots away from her.

Tears slowly evaporating under the heat of it’s blemishes.

The day is moving on, and there is little room for regret.

She knows this.

She tries anyways, a whisper desperately hurries to the flowers that surround the wolf.

Pushing through debris and dust filling the condensed air.

Carrying the intent further, closer.

A hand reaching out.

Fingertips extended.

Nails at eye level.

Yet her words do not reach.

“I’ll see you around, Ray.”

They never could.

Strips of scarlet pull away from her pores. Curling and breaking the pigment that had tasted of sweet, plumped pomegranate. Now only the overbearing scent of burning citrus remained. Only remembered in her last moments in the gold. Only the trickling stars in place where she once stood.

And a gentle, cold breeze of her goodbyes.

#long post #wip #i'll probably edit this little segment a thousand times over #was gonna cut some of it to show but then couldnt figure out if that would've work with what i had #so ya get the full prologue for what i'm working on and that shit will probably take me years to finish lmao #however i'll make a little tag of my own if i end up showing off more of this writing project :)#hybm

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ow-anteater · 1 year

Note

For the spotify wrapped. . . let's try #14 and Ramattra

(I need to see you write Ramattra like I need air. You're gonna do such a good job with him I can feel it in my bones)

Ngl this is mainly just me waxing poetically and trying to find A Voice for Ramattra ... all to the (very loose) tune of #14 Bitter Water by The Oh Hellos

I am not a fool entire, no, I know what is coming / You'll bury me beneath the tree I climbed when I was a child

He wakes up to hoar frost and for a second he is back at the monastery. The air is icy cold and still - the whole world holding its breath just for him.

He hasn’t graced the place with his presence for years now, and yet it has gotten him good. Sometimes he can almost feel it, beneath layers of plate and wiry blood. And beneath even that, the rage that birthed him. He wonders what Mondatta would think if he knew that itch hadn’t been worked out of him.

He is alone for the first time in a long time. He had almost managed to grow accustomed to the warning flashing at the edge of his vision; telling him a human lingers close. It’s almost weird, to not have Akande hanging close by, making him defy his design.

He moves about the hideout almost hesitantly. It’s been too long since he’s been in the cold like this. He doesn’t like how it mixed past and present in his mind. It makes his armor heavy in a way he isn’t used to. He hopes the mission will be worth it, that this delegation really does carry intel they can’t live without.

He is not built for waiting, but he has figured it out. He is nothing if not patient. He sits idly on the floor while the sun steadily climbs until the entire world shines and refracts like a prism. Then he gets up, dares to move out into the light dusting of frost the night has left.

It’s only then he realizes it’s snowing. Each speck is barely big enough to be called a snowflake. His vision stutters and zooms in close but there’s no intricate crystals to find here. The point is the moving. The art is in the falling.

He remembers Zenyatta, far away and hazy. It’s a thing he’s only started doing recently; trying to recall stubbornly instead of simply finding the memory clip buried somewhere in his harddrive. He tells himself he likes how Zen floats and changes in his own less mechanical mind.

The truth may be he doesn’t like how the files sometimes burst to the surface corrupted and decayed. He was not built to last.

A squirrel darts through a tree beside him. It stops to stare, for a second as still as he feels. His chest erupts in sudden fondness. For this world he is doomed to inhabit, for those of his kind who was robbed of the chance to lock eyes with a squirrel through the dancing snowflakes.

It aches, unlike anger or despair. Unlike passion. It simply aches.

This is what will do him in. He’s as sure of it as he’s sure somebody will pick up his fight when he at last joins his brothers in the dirt.

His people is young but they linger long. He overheard a funeral service; of returning home until flowers braid their roots into your throat. Until you sing in rapid blooming. His brethren won’t. The best they can ask for is peaceful silence.

Or a return to a god he’s not sure he can call his anymore. His old god lays slain and bleeding behind him; his very creator turned to dust and code running like ink.

The warm embrace of the Iris, the cool instinctual violence of Anubis; he knows already they spring from the same source. He is not quick to meander back and dip his hands.

The kindness is a mistake. So is the brutality. They are both the point.

He shakes his head. The squirrel blinks and races on, he thinks he can hear something coming through the trees. In his HUD, warnings come back to life. He gets up, and goes back to work.

#Ramattra #Overwatch #note @ myself; stop making it all about Omnics relationship to religion #but also like #toh IS a religious band like its a theme #i am choosing to defend myself.#and thank you so so so so much for the ask #that is so incredibly sweet #i hope you like this take?#he hasn't fully solidified in my mind yet #but i like this i think #there are Emile branded headcanons in this

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ghostmoswell · 2 years

Text

These are the rules of my house. My father found them in a butter container when we first moved in, and three years later we are all still following them.

important context: I live in the summerhouse of my family home, it is essentially my bedroom, I love every second of it.

1. Never leave the house after midnight, if you must, do not make a sound, especially no singing, music, humming, jingling of keys, or talking.

2. Never forget to lock up. The shed may be open, shut it, and don't look inside.

3. Lights will flicker when you turn them off, do not leave the room until the flickering has stopped.

4. If you see a person in the corner of your eye, look at it directly in the eyes, and wait until it disappears.

5. If you see a man hanging in the living room, leave, shut the door, lock up, and go for a walk. He should be gone when you get back.

6. Never leave a candle burning, not even for a second while you use the bathroom. If it can burn, it will.

7. When you get halfway up the garden, look at the moon, if it's full or waxing, you're safe, anything else, refer to rule 8.

8. If anything goes wrong, run to the summerhouse, lock the door (without jingling the keys, they hate that noise), and close all blinds, put a film on, and watch its entirety.

9. Fall asleep with a video on, it will be switched off at the plug by morning, ignore this, that means you pleased them.

10. The fridge is never to be turned on nor opened, either will attract them. Refer to rule 8, if you can.

11. If there is a light on in the house, go inside and turn it off, refer to rule 3.

12. You will need to drink during the night, your throat will be scratchy and dry, only carbonated beverages are to be drank after 12.

13. Any open containers will become dangerous after 11pm, ensure all lids are firmly screwed on.

14. Moths and spiders will appear around 1am, catch and release every single one, do not fall asleep until you do this.

15. Take the pills with your name on it, make sure your name is spelt correctly, if it is not, throw them over your left shoulder.

16. You may see graffiti on the sides of the house, the hooded figure drawing it is not friendly, and it must not see you under any circumstance. If it does, climb underneath the storage unit and close your eyes, if you're lucky, it won't remember where you were.

17. If you wake up between 2-4am, do not open your eyes. Do not open your eyes. If you fell asleep with a nightmask on, do not trust it.

18. If you feel nauseous, light a candle, if it goes out on its own, go back to sleep.

19. If the bin is full, start a new one. If the place is not clean it will attract them.

20. Do not eat anything in this room, it will taste like mold, and it will make you bedridden for upwards of a week, rendering you unable to complete these rules.

21. There have been 3 suicides, 2 murders and 5 deaths in this house, and the previous tenants do not recall ever living here. Document all rules and all sightings, and pray the next tenants listen.

A few months ago, I made a mistake. I broke rule 17. I always set an alarm for 7am, to make sure that I don't open my eyes before then, but this fateful night I had convinced myself that I simply snoozed my alarm and I opened my eyes.

My breath quickly became shallow and labored, I couldn't breathe, I remember thinking that this is the end, I screwed up, I broke a rule, this is it. My eyes adjusted to the darkness to find a bucket on my chest. It was filling with an off-green colored fluid, dripping in from somewhere. The dripping slowed nearly to a stop, and my eyes adjusted to a semi-normal level of vision.

I glance up at the ceiling, and my eyes become glued to the creature. A mass of dead flies, moths, and spiders. The ooze dripping from its protruding hipbone, directly into the bucket. It crudely resembles a young child, with no facial features, but what appears to be a complete skeleton.

I blink hard, hoping that this was just another one of those figures you can stare at until they disappear. It was not. It lunged at me and picked up its bucket. I could finally breathe. It picks up an amount of the sludge, and applies it like a moisturizer on its body, regenerating the areas where its skeleton was on show. It's legs were stuck to the ceiling, its upper body hanging upside down from the ceiling. I needed to get rid of it. It was toying with me, and has regenerative abilities.

There was no way I could possibly outsmart it. I shut my eyes as tightly as possible as it replaced its bucket on my chest, and I hear that nauseating dripping noise again. As my chest grows heavier I somehow fall asleep.

I'm not religious, but the day after I thanked every God I could think of. I had woken up, and I was seemingly unharmed, other than a cracked rib. I told my parents and they smiled, "They must like you" my dad said, nonchalantly. I didn't feel lucky, I didn't feel much at all. Of course I was grateful, anyone would be, but why didn't they kill me? Why did they choose to save me? Am I more valuable alive to them? I don't think I'll ever find out. I'm hoping to move out soon.

The previous tenants have been sectioned under the mental health act recently, apparently suffering from paranoia, they sent us a cease and desist order after we asked them how long they lived here. According to the landlord's bank, all of their checks never existed, there is no evidence they ever were here, even though they left family photos in a box in the attic, and the landlord still has the money. My parents act like this is normal, they don't seem concerned at all. My brother seems unbothered. There's something off with them. I hope my summerhouse keeps me sane,

edit: This next part was written in the original post, apparently by me, a commenter alerted me to it, so big kudos to them, but what the hell?

but I can't help but feel this is the only good way to live. Maybe I should join them in the house. Maybe you should join us too. The house knows best. They know best.

#horror #horror story #reddit #no sleep #nosleep podcast #r/nosleep #scary #scary story #creepy #creepy story

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jedidryad · 1 year

Text

So much of part 2 centres on Mara’s work to figure out whether becoming a Jedi is right for her (spoiler alert: it doesn’t seem to be at the moment). Her week at the academy gets off to a rough start...and middle... and end really - although nowhere near as rough as that of some of Luke’s other students. One bright spot though is that she makes a couple of new friends, even if they don’t seem like it right away. Here is a snippet of her introduction to Corran Horn. Dialogue is from I, Jedi

I found myself facing down a green eyed man whose blond hair didn’t quite seem right. In fact everything about him seemed a little off, and oddly familiar.

Luke had called him Kieran and had given him my name which left me feeling more vulnerable than I thought it would because I had the feeling he knew more about me now than I did him.

I scrutinized him for a moment, trying to place him. No, his name was not Kieran and he was no fresh faced youngling student. My scrutiny quickly turned into a rather rude stare as he held firm. Who was this? Did Luke know he was here under a false identity, or was he being played?

“Have we met before?” I offered the words as pretense for my prolonged silence, but I was fairly certain this guy knew better. This was why I hated Jedi.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Oh he knew.

“Odd. I don’t usually forget a face.”

He didn’t flinch.

“And I think I would remember you.”

I felt my right eyebrow lift of its own accord. Who the kriff was this?

He turned away as though the conversation was over and I fought back a rush of anger. Whoever this guy was, I wasn’t about to back down. This academy thing was clearly already taking a toll on Skywalker. The last thing he needed was some Force strong imposter working an agenda.

“Kieran” was holding forth about the variety of rooms and options for me as I tried to see if I could get a read on him. I didn’t get much before I met a very deliberate shield. It was effective, if not particularly subtle.

All I really got out of him was a pointless confession that he’d picked a room among the old rebel pilots’ quarters back when this was a rebel base. Still, knowing that provided me an opportunity to make it clear I didn’t trust him as I smiled and told him I’d choose a room there too, in order to keep an eye on him.

I emphasized my intentions as we walked over to the residential section in question. Our positioning looked casual but I doubted anyone on this moon would be tricked by that. We made pleasantries until my companion made his move and tricked me into saying something about the Empire so he could accuse me of Imperial loyalties. I supposed I should have seen that coming.

On the up side, that meant I didn’t have to play nice anymore. The carefully casual walk was at an end.

“You said we’d not met,” I opened, settling comfortably into a combat stance, “but you clearly have a problem with me. Shall we settle it now?”

The smile he graced me with then was the most Corellian thing I’d ever seen. It made his face remarkably punchable. For a moment, I relished the possibility, but I never got to find out what he was going to do. Abruptly, he blinked and shook his head a little as if to clear it. I then watched him take a deep breath that looked like it had come straight out of a Luke Skywalker training session.

He apologized with a thoroughness that was remarkable in my life at the time, especially coming from someone who had clearly been planning to pin all the evils of the Empire on me seconds before.

He offered a hand and introduced himself as Corran Horn. And that name fit him like a skinsuit. It also explained why he seemed familiar. This was Mirax’s husband: the Rogue Squadron pilot who had turned down Luke’s training offer in order to stay with her and practice his Force skills in the bedroom. I bit back an inappropriate grin as I recalled her waxing poetic about her husband’s lightsaber and leaving no doubt whatsoever what she actually meant.

I missed her.

As I took Horn’s offered hand, I wondered if he knew his wife regaled her smuggler friends with stories about their marathon lovemaking sessions. Considering what I knew about Rogue Squadron, I doubted it would bother him in the least if he did.

#epic!bio #part 2 coming soon #WIP #mara jade #corran horn #i jedi #jedi academy

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cordeliaeli · 1 year

Text

For my two favorite guys on Christmas...

You never know how special Christmas is going to be until you get to spend it with people that mean the world to you. These last few years I forgot what the sparkle behind Christmas truly was until you walked back into my life. Now, I know it didn't go off with a perfect hitch, and this is definitely a far better remembered Christmas than last, but you've given Rosalyn and I the most precious gift of all, something that I didn't know I would ever have. Christmas with family and Christmas with those who love us. There are some things I will never be able to repay, verbalize, or thank you enough for giving not only me but my daughter. The way you've opened your home, your life, and your heart to a little girl that isn't yours and shown her what it means to be cared about by someone else. For someone who shows up without question, you've made these last several months some of the best I've had in a long time. You're an incredibly special person, Cage, and I'm so lucky to call you mine.

For you, I know you don't necessarily drink all the time but these topographic glasses just hit me as something you would like. They're different places and landscapes of areas of the US and who knows, maybe you've traveled near some of them, but I figured you could break these out when wanting to have a little special drink. The gloves and jacket are something I've been told everyone needs in their outdoors arsenal. The gloves are all-season wax coated that you can grab a burning log, stick your hand into the snow, or work around without worry of temperature or environment. The jacket is a fleece lined wax trucker jacket that apparently ages like a fine leather over time the more you wear it and beat it up. Figure when you're working outdoor on some of your wooden projects it will keep you warm, save and will give you that gorgeous cowboy look that will become one of a kind that as it is moved, creased, and bent will wear into its own unique pattern. I couldn't resist getting you a little gadget after those long workouts, runs, or practices with Colton to loosen up tight muscles -- when I'm not there to help with that, of course. Lastly, I am fully expecting a full on show with some festive boxer briefs that I couldn't pass up, we'll save them for after the kids go to sleep.

For Colton, I'm incredibly new to buying for teenagers, so I went the practical route for things he's going to need to be impressing all the boys in his grade and making the girls swoon. Everyone needs their own varsity style jacket, at least until he gets his own varsity jacket in his years to come, this is just giving him a head start to walk around wearing one proudly. I did splurge and get him, hopefully, his first pair of aviator Ray-bans, because who doesn't need a pair of those when the summer comes around. They're something that can grow with him and become a staple to keep around for years to come, I hope. Lastly, I couldn't not get him something fun, and apparently these are all the 'cool' rage right now. An ultra-mini pocket projector that can turn the wall in his room, or the side of the house, or wherever he likes into his own little movie theater, whether to watch Tik Toks, stream/play video games, or watch movies, I figured this is something he can carry around and impress all his friends when they're out and looking for something to do. I apologize now for all the places he'll probably end up trying to use this projector in now but hopefully he will get full use out of it.

To the future Christmas's we'll share together, watching the kids grow and become their own, to spending time with your family and knowing that I'm finally part of something special because you're apart of my life again. Thank you for walking back into my life when I needed you most, not only as a friend, but a partner. And to Christmas late night fun later in those boxer briefs. @cagenewman

All our love always,

Cordelia and Rosalyn

#✧ * º • — the manner of giving ⎧gifts to.⎫#✧ * º • — filling up the empty space ⎧cage.⎫#✧ * º • — fell for those ocean eyes ⎧cage newman.⎫

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