#oicu
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HIIIII OICU HIIII HAIIIII HIIII
HAI FAG HIIIIIIIIIIIII HIHIHIHIHIHIHHIIHI HRU MY DEAREST
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For the OICU, Ocean fell in her kitchen and hit the - glass - oven door on the way down. The glass shattered, giving her lots of cuts to treat. She was probably barefoot when it happened and we all know her parents aren’t helping her clean, so she 100% went to school the next day with glass still in her feet. The others had to take her to the doctor to get the glass removed.
Also, her parents don’t replace the glass for several months and we all know they don’t have a microwave and they probably use the stovetop for extra storage space rather than cooking, it’s honestly a miracle they have an oven). Ocean can’t cook her food, she’s living off off of stuff that doesn’t need cooked or food the other choir members provide. There’s a week where her parents don’t buy anything and she doesn’t have a chance to go to the store either. All their produce has gone bad. She feels bad for constantly asking the rest of the choir for food so she just barely eats for a week until she nearly collapses from hunger. The choir starts taking shifts of “accidentally” packing extra food and finding a chance to give some to Ocean so she has something to eat that day. Ocean knows what’s happening, but she’s hungry enough that she doesn’t stop them.
oough, the glass injuries sound HORRIBLE, but i’m honestly more snagged on the food shortage idea at her house.
i headcanon that her family grows a lot of their own produce, which is probably Ocean’s favorite thing about her home life, but imagine it’s the dead of winter, meaning nothing can grow. so she can’t even rely on the garden to eat. and it’s far too cold to walk all the way to the store and back with bags full of groceries, so that’s out of the question, too. and she has too much pride to ask for a lift from one of her friends. so she really is stuck between a rock and a hard place.
i can imagine her both feeling bad, as you said, when asking for food from the others, but also embarrassed. she looks so uncharacteristically shy at lunch when she goes, “are you going to eat that?” and it’s because she’s SO humiliated.
and then her almost passing out from hunger! poor girl! she’s probably got those bad hunger pains, too.
this is a good concept, anon!! i should use it sometime 👀
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Ocean HCs
OCD. Everything must be done in fours or multiples of it
HATES pity, if she’s ever hurt, she won’t tell anybody. That’s how she got multiple infections
Her parents often make her “home-made” remedies when she’s sick, they don’t help
The choir gives her medicine after school
Never had a missing assignment. Plans all-nighters to finish schoolwork all. the. time.
Favorite animal is a deer:>
Multiple undiagnosed mental illnesses
Cares for others WAY to much. Super empathetic, when someone else is sad; she is sad
Not a big reader, but loves to listen to music
Bilingual, knows Latin bc of hymns they sing in choir
Favorite color is light blue
🤏🤏 close to making a fanfic under the line of the OICU
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aqw download cheats working W97V!
💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Adventure Quest Worlds. Cheatbook is the resource for the latest Cheats, tips, cheat codes, unlockables, hints and secrets to get the edge to win. More Adventure Quest Worlds Cheats and Tips. We have cheats and tips on PC. If you have any cheats or tips for Adventure Quest Worlds. i think that aqworlds is the best online game when you put in this code when you go to valencia go on special code and put oicu when you put this code weapon. All you need to do in order to enjoy this hacks tool is get the hack files from one of the download servers provided below, unzip and run AQW. Click here and download aqw cheats download absolutely for free. Fast downloads. Direct links available. Ads make money make money. Test Footer. AQWorlds Membership Hack v2. Kirimkan Ini lewat Email BlogThis! Berbagi ke Twitter Berbagi ke Facebook. Langganan: Posting Komentar Atom. Popular Posts. Sebenarnya makanan ini be Cara Membuat Es Gabus hidangan buka puasa. Kumpulan Gambar Lucu Iklan Mastin. Jika kamu sering menonton TV, pasti kamu sudah tak asing lagi dengan iklan produk herbal kecantikan. Yap, iklan Mastin, iklan yang dikena Cara membuat Burger krabby patty. Bagi yang pernah nonton spongebob squarepants pasti tau dengan nama krabby patty burger , makanan paling poluler dalam film spongebob. Cara Membuat Ice Bubble hidangan buka puasa.
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SOPH YOUR NEW BIO MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD I LOVE IT, IT'S SUCH A MOOD
I mean…forget about the MCU, I’m here for the OICU (Oscar Isaac Cinematic Universe).
#Data collection shows that there is a direct correlation between#adding oscar isaac to your franchise and having said franchise’s sexiness increase by 100%#it’s just science#thanks tegan <3#asks
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The First Move
Characters: Steven Grant x Female Reader (with a small cameo from ultimate wingman Marc Spector)
Words: 3.6k
Warnings/Tags: Explicit sexual content (18+ MINORS DNI), kinda subby Steven/dominant female dynamic, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected P in V, creampie
Author’s Note: I haven’t written anything in three billion years but here’s this thing I wrote. It’s about as canon-divergent as I can physically cope with, set before Steven meets Marc for the first time but he’s there. It’s a little fluffier than what I usually dive into but I’m still a whore so of course smut comes with the meal. (The Marc-focused part 2 of this story can be found here!)
~
“Earl grey, two sugars?” you asked sweetly to the man stepping towards the counter. Steven, undoubtedly your most cherished regular, a name you’d learned from the small badge he continually seemed to forget about taking off outside the confines of his job.
He let out a muted kind of laugh, nodding, not able to have his eyes reach yours.
Oh. Today was a no eye-contact day.
You tried your best to hold back your concern whilst processing his payment, not needing to say the price out loud. “I’ll have it ready for you in a jiffy.”
There was the whisper of an appreciative smile in his lips, but it quickly faded as he walked away, his stare securely trained to the floor. Steven was here every Friday evening, his order never straying from the one single beverage as he sat at his usual table. A window seat, watching the night play out before him in passersby.
In the months since his first visit to this tiny little café, you’d come to spend each week looking forward to this moment, when the clock struck 5:15, expectant of his kind face and curled hair coming through the door. Every interaction was different, and slightly unpredictable. Initially he was simply… cautious. Almost excessively reserved, barely able to fixate his pupils on any part of you. Slowly, you could see the familiarity and comfort grow. He began to return your smiles, speak with words and not movements, linger in conversation rather than want to flee from it.
On the good days, where the anxiety that always appeared to cling to him relaxed its hold, you would delicately initiate some casual conversation. His work, his hobbies, his family – each fragment of information willingly given a precious piece of his puzzle you felt a bizarre impulse to solve. The day he’d posed his own question back had left you nearly too flustered to answer properly. All he’d asked is how long you’d been working here, and you’d never been more excited.
You hoped one day he’d ask a very specific question. If he could see you at a different time, in a different setting. Amongst other people, or alone. Whatever he wanted, whatever he felt most comfortable with. Your fear of pushing him too far out that zone stopped you from asking the question yourself. You just hoped he would, when he was ready.
So now, seeing Steven almost completely revert to his old self, was a little disheartening. He’d slipped back into this kind of state a few times – on the bad days - but never quite this far. Glancing over while you readied the small tea set, he seemed troubled, a flustered kind of kinetic energy seeming to radiate from his sitting figure.
“Busy day at the art gallery?” you asked softy while setting down the porcelain teapot at his front.
Your voice had startled him, breaking him out of a peculiar trance. And he still couldn’t look at you. “Busy. Yeah. Always busy.”
You could have easily walked away, his dismissive answer a clear sign he wasn’t in the mood for a chat today. But a heavy feeling in your chest made you linger, noting the crumpled way in which Steven sat into his chair, like he wanted to appear as small as possible. Something was wrong.
“Is everything okay?”
His head turned, finally lifting his face to meet yours. His expression was tense, forcefully blank, lips set in a hard line. There was only slightly more emotion to be seen in his eyes, a subtle fear within them you were sure you’d never encountered before.
“Fine. Just fine,” he stumbled out, the words coming out unnaturally fast. “Thanks for the tea. It looks… hot.”
There was a twitch of disgust he had at his own comment, and it made you relieved. The Steven you’d come to know was still there, underneath the shroud of distress covering every inch of him right now.
“Just let me know if there’s anything else you need, okay?”
You hoped he would see past the face value of your words, that he might see you as a safe haven in a world you also found a little too overwhelming at times. And while your offer was never claimed as the evening wore on, you’d occasionally peered over to see him quietly studying your movements. Each time you met his gaze with the the same warm smile before he quickly redirected himself away to his long cold tea.
It was difficult not to let the disappointment swallow you whole when Steven, quite uncharacteristically, didn’t even look your way before briskly setting off home. Usually you would have been filled with a bubbly warmth as the door bells tingled, right after the recurring “Laters, gators!” farewell you’d become so accustomed to. Without it, the tinkling metal sound was positively jarring. It made you worry. Did something happen? Had you done something wrong? Was this little fixation you’d centered on one man hopelessly one sided?
These questions continued to control most of your attention as closing time finally arrived, with you being the sole person left under the dimmed lights. With the coffee machine cleaned and prepped for a new morning you’d be waking to greet, you were about to take the keys into your hand when a shrill tone rung into the silent space. The telephone. Who the hell is calling here at this time of night?
It was out of genuine curiosity you scuffled over to the handset instead of letting it go to voicemail, not having a recognizable number show on the small display. Force of habit made your voice delve into its higher pitch as you spouted off the usual greeting with your name, the other line initially filled with a bizarre static alongside its silence.
“Hello?” you repeated. “Is there anyone there?”
Again, nothing. Just static.
“Look we’re already closed, and I’d really like to go home-”
“You need to make the first move.”
The voice stilted you off balance, frozen into as much stillness as the room around you. It was deep, blazoned with intention and… American? What the hell?
“I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong number-”
“With Steven. You’re gonna need to make the first move,” the voice reiterated, somewhat forcefully. “He’s not going to do it himself.”
The mention of his name made you physically recoil, peering around in the almost darkness. “Who the hell is this? Have you been watching me?���
“I’m a… friend of Steven’s. And I’m just trying to… help.”
You should have been more concerned about the complete stranger making it his business to call your workplace at 10pm on a Friday evening with such a cryptic message, but there was suddenly a prospect of hope weaving its way around your chest.
“Wait, has he talked to you about me?”
A pleased exhale crinkled through the speaker. “In his own way, yeah. It’s… kinda complicated. And not important. Look, you’ve both waited long enough, and you and I both know he’s not exactly the brave type.”
To his credit, the stranger must actually know Steven to make this kind of comment, a frustratingly correct one at that. “Who says I’ve been waiting? You don’t even know if I’m interested in him like that.”
“You haven’t hung up yet,” the voice said succinctly. “I think that says a lot.”
Damn. He’d got you. Prick.
“Okay, let’s say I am,” you conceded, leaning into the counter. “What are you implying I do about it?”
“I already told you – make the first move. How you do that? Well, that’s your choice. But I can’t keep watching him slowly turn insane for not being able to ask you on a simple god damn date.”
The heart rhythm that followed was loud in your ears, thumping through your limbs. “Is that true? He’s wanted to ask me out, all this time?”
“He’s wanted to do more than that, trust me,” the stranger grumbled, almost in a huff.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t worry about it.” A piercing alarm rung out on the other line. “Shit. Time’s up. Okay, I’m going to give you his address. What you do next is your decision, but let me tell you, being bold wouldn’t be the worst option.”
The voice didn’t give you time to reply before he was rattling off a street and apartment number, having to hastily write it over your forearm as the monotone beep of an ended call repeated over and over.
The air felt colder as you set the phone down, little wisps of ice creeping over your skin in direct contrast to the heat beginning to flourish from your insides.
He needed you to be bold? Oh, you could be bold.
*
Steven woke with a jolt, the restraints at his ankles making a rattling sound against the hardwood bedposts. Shit, he’d fallen asleep again. Maybe he should’ve made that switch to coffee by now.
Ugh, no, the heart palpitations weren’t worth it.
To his relief, the sky outside his window was still draped in blackness. Maybe his body hadn’t had enough time to try and wander yet. A quick glance at his phone screen told him it was just past 10:30pm, long after a safeguard alarm should have woken him from any accidental nap. Once again the memory of deactivating it wasn’t one his brain allowed him to keep.
It was getting harder to keep himself awake, that was clear. Every night he was drifting off sooner and sooner, always working at half capacity during waking hours without the restful sleep he couldn’t trust himself to have. Short bursts like these seemed to stave off most symptoms of exhaustion, but there was always that lingering headache quietly thumping inside his skull, the same one making his brow furrow as he unshackled himself from his makeshift snare.
A new deepened purple was noticeable under his eyes as he opened the mirrored cabinet of his bathroom, selecting the mildest form of painkillers in his meagre stock. He didn’t need anything making him more drowsy, even when the peace of slumber was the only thing he wanted right now.
Well, except for you.
The thought made his throat tight. All week he’d spent building up courage, rehearsing the perfect lines, curating a persona much more confident than what he knew he was. Casual. Relaxed. Maybe even a little suave.
It all went to bollocks the moment he stepped through the door. One little tinkle of that stupid bell and all his willpower came crumbling down. He couldn’t help it. It was the story of his life. Too chicken shit to even ask a nice girl out to dinner. Could have been simple. Easy. But it never was.
Knock knock knock.
The sound was startling, making Steven jump with an audible peep. A visitor? This late?
Oh who was he kidding, having a visitor ever was a shock in its own right.
Tentatively he tread over to the triple locked door, stripping off the undisturbed tape lining the frame. A breath sat heavy in his lungs as he stood there, heart thrumming to a quickened beat, releasing the exhale in a single, measured progression. Only when there was no more to give, he opened the door.
You.
It was you.
Standing in his hallway. There to see him.
Ahh, right… So he’d never actually woken up. Just stuck in another vivid dream. Seemed about right.
The realisation was deflating, even while his mind instinctively burst with those happy little chemicals it always shot out at the sight of you. It was interesting though, how sharp your visage looked compared to other times you’d shown up in his dreaming, wearing an expression of eager impatience.
“Hi,” you greeted, your voice unusually clear. And positively giddy. “I hope this is okay. Me just showing up here.”
Knowing you were just a figment of his mind’s conjuring caused him not to question your presence, or how you came to find his address, instead starting to feel a grateful smile spread across his face. “Yeah. Yeah definitely it’s fine. Brilliant actually.”
Your face radiated even more joy, almost a little disbelieving. “It is?”
In his dreaming Steven was starkly more honest than his real life, making it an easy task to answer, “There’s no one else I’d be happier openin’ my door to.”
There was a change in your features after he said the words, a change maybe only Steven would have been able to recognise after so much time looking to you from afar. Jaw tightened, eyebrows cinched ever so slightly. An expression of certainty, of conviction.
Two sets of fingers reached out to grab at his shirt, feet stumbling under him as a hurried connection occurred between your lips and his.
A kiss. You were kissing him. And it felt so… real?
Seconds moved on while Steven’s mind desperately tried to catch up, your mouth beginning to move over his with a fragile balance of hesitancy and greed. It took far longer than he would have preferred to respond in the same way, eventually syncing into the rhythm you’d set, the rigidity in his limbs settling into an embrace with yours. This certainly wasn’t the first time he’d imagined your first kiss, awake or otherwise, but there was something wholly distinct about the one he was experiencing now.
There was heat radiating from where his skin touched yours. A minty tang when his tongue slipped into your mouth. Your distinctive floral perfume sweeping his senses with every inhale.
When a hand slipped over the line of his cheekbone, nails softly scratching into his hair to pull his face closer, it finally clicked.
He broke away from you with a jerk, clutching at your upper arms. “Hold on a minute, you’re real?”
You seemed to need a moment to collect yourself, frankly looking a little dizzy from the sudden retraction. “What? What do you mean I’m real?”
“You’re here? Right now? At my apartment?”
Your nose wrinkled as you scrutinized his utter disbelief. “You literally just opened the door to me.”
“But… But I…” There was that same annoying delay Steven suffered from his brain to his mouth, his thoughts too jumbled to properly curate a sentence. “I thought… I thought that I was dreaming. I dream lot you know. And with you showin’ up here, I just assumed…” He shook you, needing to feel the full weight of you wobble back and forth. “But you’re here. You’re… really here. Right?”
For long, worrying, seconds your expression remained in its state of questioning alarm, blinking a few times to let your eyes focus again. As the narrowing pupils flitted over Steven’s face, he saw how a tempered smirk began to appear.
“Would you like me to show you that I’m real?”
In all honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure what you meant. But the tempting sparkle in your stare had him quickly nodding along to your offer. Immediately you had his heels skidding along the dusty, wood floor, maneuvering him backwards towards the unmade bed.
He might have worried you could notice the pysch-ward shackles still loitering at his bed posts, or the thick layer of sand crunching under your shoes, yet your attention was acutely fixed on pushing him into the mattress to sit, leaning down to secure him in an even more decadent kiss than the first.
Steven didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, having the odd reflex to claw them into your flesh but refraining from doing so in the fear of being, as most in his life would recite, a little too much. So he did his best to smother those reckless instincts, settling to merely drift his palms up your thighs to feel the curve, almost making to your rear when you began to sink down to the floor.
Fucking hell, you were on your knees. Between his. Trying to unlock his belt.
Impulse took over again as his own hands flew down to aid in your effort, working in tandem to unlock and shimmy down his starched trousers, his boxers being clutched along with them until he was on show for you. Fully and completely. So hard it hurt.
He might have let this kind of vulnerable state – one in which it’d been years since he’d faced – jump to overwhelm him, turning to escape in any way possible. But with you, gaping at his erection like it had taken the wind right out your lungs, the fear was purged from his body in a rolling wave, humbly sitting in anticipation for your next action.
Every nerve in his body lit up a spark when you gripped a hand around the base of his cock, already pulling a frantic rasp out his chest when the tip of your tongue swirled around the head. The sound swiftly transformed into a heated groan when you slithered your lips down the breadth of his shaft, enveloping as much length of him as you could adequately handle.
Up and down you started to move, slow by any usual means but quick enough for Steven to shudder through each breath he took, pangs of pleasure ricocheting through his lower limbs. Truly he wasn’t sure how he kept it together, watching your lips glide up and down his now glistening dick, your tongue swirling at the underside in a way he didn’t know existed until this very minute.
In fact, no, he couldn’t keep it together.
“F-fuck,” he choked. “Jesus fucking christ. I need to… I don’t want this to be over until…”
With a subtle gasp you retreated, wiping away the spittle from your chin, looking up to Steven with a single question coded in your stare.
Again his agreement wasn’t verbal, just a rushed bob of his head, very nearly the epitome of subservience. That’s all he wanted to be for you. The vessel of your pleasure.
Just as he answered without words, you responded with your movements, standing only to slink down the pants you wore, stripping off the rest of your ensemble as you straddled onto his lap. Gods, he wished he might have had the chance to glide a thumb over your bare nipple, but you were already reaching down…
And there it was, heaven.
Or as close as he’d felt it.
A moan of synchronicity occurred as you slid down to the hilt of Steven’s cock, clenching around it as you leaned in to kiss him, both palms clutching at his jaw. Nothing could have prepared him for the way you began to grind yourself over his full length, your hips determining their own unique pattern and pace.
Thrills of ecstasy began to riddle through him as your whines became louder with each stoke, each one gliding over with an impossibly smooth friction. No matter how hard he wanted to fight it, the point of no return dragged even closer.
He tried to think of anything that might stave off the inevitable climax. Sand. Mummified human remains. The annoying little beep his barcode scanner made during inventory nights ringing over and over-
“It’s… okay. Just let go,” you hummed into his ear.
“It hasn’t… Shit… It’s not been long enough,” he heaved, occasionally interrupted with shuddering moans he had no control over keeping tamed. “For you… It’s not been long enough for you.”
He could feel the crease of your smile at his cheek, in addition to a pronounced tightening around him down below. “Please Steven. Just let it happen. I want it. I need it.”
Your words, the sincerity in which you spoke them, broke apart all the resolve he had. Every muscle seemed to flex as a somewhat violent orgasm ruptured from his core outwards, continuing flashes of pleasure rolling in aftershocks as he emptied himself inside you. There were hissing curses he didn’t quite himself speak when your thrusting didn’t immediately slow, milking every ounce of fluid from him to your deepest part.
Oh god, was he supposed to do that? No one had ever let him do that before. It was so… warm. In fact, his whole body felt a similar kind of mellowed heat. This sort of afterglow was different to the ones following solo endeavors. More potent and endlessly more relieving.
And here he was laying there like a knob, not affording you the same sensation.
Steven frantically reached up grab onto your torso, unable to properly find his footing with his legs dangled over the edge of the bed.
“Hey woah! What are you doing?” you shot out, propping yourself up to look down over him.
“I was tryin’ to, you know, switch us around. Since it’s, well, your turn. And I don’t want to keep you waiting. I just… want to make you feel as good as you made me…”
The grin that spread across your lips made his chest thump. You looked touched. Usually he hated this kind of reaction in people, where they looked at him like some adorable, naïve soul. Although on you it made him feel… treasured.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s really not necessary.”
“It is to me,” he said unwaveringly. “I mean, it just wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t return the favour.”
Again your cheeks plumped with a smile, irises practically dazzling around their widened pupils. You grazed a set of fingers at his hairline, setting some the unruly curls back into place. “You could return it in a different way, while we take a break first?”
“How do you mean?”
“I like… tea.”
Steven let out a roughened chuckle, leaning up on his elbows. “Well I’m not the tea connoisseur of the room, but I think I can handle a brew. How do you take it?”
“Earl grey. Two sugars.”
~
If you read this, thank you! I love you with my whole heart.
Tagging a few I adore and thought might want to give this a read:
@tlcwrites @roanniom @foxilayde @blackberries45 @hopeamarsu @caillea @princessxkenobi @mariesackler @sacklerscumrag
#steven grant#steven grant x reader#steven grant x you#marc spector#marc spector x reader#marc spector x you#Moon Knight#moon knight fanfiction#steven grant smut#moon knight smut#oicu#oicu fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#marvel smut
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Oscar Isaac Fandom Creators Masterlist!
The more content Oscar delivers the more new creators enter our Tumblr fandom.
In order to be more inclusive and welcoming, I would like to share a Google Form to be utilized as a comprehensive Masterlist for writers, artists, and GIF makers for our fandom.
A few quick points I would like to make:
I will not be censoring who is added to this list. Everyone is welcome.
It will be your responsibility to add your information.
I am not responsible for any of the content that is on any of the blogs listed.
I will be adding this link to my pinned list and making sure the list stays alphabetized and not abused. I will not be responsible for maintaining it, regularly outside of what's been mentioned.
This will be a community form. It is a tool to be used to make it easier to find fellow creators and boost their work!
Please share this post! Share the creators! Boost each other up!
OICU Creators Masterlist
#Oscar Isaac#OICU#Oscar Isaac fanfic#Oscar Isaac gif#Boost Content Creators#Support Fanfic Writers#Reblog for boosting
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This is De. Say "Hello De". De is fly. De is dope. De is a "Silver Fox" who saw a need for Sisters to get more education about their hair and how to take care of it, so she founded Nappiology - a non-profit organization to enlighten and educate us about our manes. De has been on this mission for about a decade, providing a platform for stylists, natural hair-care start-ups, and hair care professionals. Her vision has encouraged us to love our hair and ourselves, entirely. De also founded Black Girls Swing (an organization for Black ladies who golf), and is an avid diver, whose timeline looks like a National Geographic documentary. Told you she was fly. De has remarkable style. She will share her laid-back-Afro-boho- fatigues-one-day-and-bikini-the-next-day-wear-what-I-want-asymetric-earrings-style, at the OICU Sis (yeah, that's "Oh, I see you, Sis") Event on April 4th at the PanAfrican Connection. Bring your questions, show YOUR style, get some ideas about how to Express yourself freely with fashion. But first, check out the Nappiology Hair Showcase on Sunday, February 23rd at the DeSoto Civic Center located at 211 W Pleasant Run Road from 1:30 - 6:00 p.m. For tickets go to www.Nappiology.net #oicu #style #silverfox #nappiology #blackgirlsswing #boss #individualstyle #natural #naturalhaircare #chemicalfreebeauty https://www.instagram.com/p/B8t3VnMh8XP/?igshid=ahi217zvc397
#oicu#style#silverfox#nappiology#blackgirlsswing#boss#individualstyle#natural#naturalhaircare#chemicalfreebeauty
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for blorbo meme my actual question is d2 Or ffxiv my joke one is oicu (oni and icarus cinematic universe) lets go babe
already did d2 so heres ffxiv
blorbo: emet-selch
scrunkly: estinien. hes got no business looking like that
scrimblo bimblo: urianger
glup shitto: moenbryda
poor little meow meow: nero
horse plinko: emet-selch again
eeby deeby: paladin questline
oicu
blorbo: cannot be expected to choose between icarus, atreus, or oni
scrunkly: icarus
scrimblo bimblo: oni
glup shitto: aeon
poor little meow meow: atlas
horse plinko: icarus again
eeby deeby: carl
#blorbo#i didnt know who to put in oicu eeby deeby so i went with the objectively funniest answer possible
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Kóngurinn Minn
Well! I have ventured away from the OICU for a minute and jumped head first into Vikings territory. I am almost done with the series and with the lovely encouragement of my twisted sister @mylifeisactuallyamess I wrote this one shot to process my emotions. SPOILERS AHEAD Turn back now if you have not seen Season 6 Episode 6, 7, and 8. SPOILERS AHEAD.
Pairing: Björn Ironside x F!reader
Summary: Björn returns home to Kattegat after losing the election for King of all Norway, to find that his mother, Lagertha has been murdered. As Queen and his wife, you do your best to console him through this trying time.
Warnings: SMUT, P in V sex, unprotected sex (its the Viking era), explicit language, murder, major character death, alcohol mention,
Six long months you had been waiting for your husband to return. He was a good man with a kind heart, wanting to do right by his small kingdom of Kattegat. He had set off to help King Harald Finehair regain Vestfold from King Olaf.
You waited day in and day out at the docks of Kattegat, hoping, praying to the gods for his safe return. Unfortunately you weren't able to do that on this day. Today you had the unbearable duty of giving Lagertha, the famous shield-maiden and Björn’s mother, a funeral fit for a goddess. With the help of Torvi and Ubbe, she was ready to enter Valhalla. You each said your goodbyes to a woman that had helped shape you into the queen that you were.
Waiting on the shore of the frozen fjord, you watched as archers set loose flaming arrows to release the burning ship into the icy waters. Murmurs broke through the respectful silence and you turned when you heard someone say “King Björn”.
Rushing to his side, you were met with sad eyes. “I know, ástin mín. I already know.” Björn staggered, exhausted from his battle and long travels, toward his mother’s burning body. You waited, letting him say his final goodbyes to her. When the time felt right, you went to him, kneeling in the snow. “I can avenge her murder. I can punish her murderer. Who was it?” He turned to you, tears and rage masking the blue of his irises.
You felt your own despair fill your chest, making it hard to breathe. “Björn,” You glanced at Ubbe, who nodded for you to continue, like he knew what was asked. You sniffled, a tear streaming down your face. “It was Hvitserk. Björn, It was Hvitserk.”
In all the years you had known Björn, you had never been afraid of him. You have seen him Slaughter countless Christian soldiers without batting an eye. You had assisted him and his brothers getting revenge on King Ælla, watching with love in your eyes as Björn executed a perfect Blood Eagle. No, you have never been scared of him, but the look on his face terrified you.
Björn sat on his throne in the Great Hall. His hands were gripping at the arms as he prepared himself to face his brother for the first time. Townspeople pushed through the small crowd gathered in front of him. The sound of rattling chains made your teeth clench.
Björn straightened up in his seat as Hvitserk was thrown forward to him, stumbling to get his footing. His lip curled as he snarled, "I wonder if you even know brother, why you have been brought here?" The chained man mumbled a response that none could hear. "Louder. I can't hear you."
Hvitserk stood there, not daring to lift his head. “I know why. I killed Lagertha.” He admitted softly. Björn leaned forward, placing his elbow on his knee, cupping his ear with his hand. Hvitserk lifted his head, looking up at his big brother. “I killed your mother, Björn.” The confession made Björn get out of his seat and stalk toward him. Roughly, Björn gripped Hvitserk’s face in his hand.
“Why?” Björn growled in his face. Hvitserk looked at him with blood shot eyes.
“I thought she was Ivar. I thought that she—” Hvitserk faltered before Björn slapped him across the face. “I thought that Ivar was coming to kill me.” Another, harder, slap. You already felt the needy heat blossoming in your stomach, but watching Björn, seeing this new side of him, brought it on tenfold.
The townspeople whispered, as Björn roared, “I don’t care what you thought! Being drunk is no excuse for anything!” His booming voice caused you to flinch. He turned away from his accused brother. “You murdered my mother. You murdered the most famous shield-maiden in the world!” Björn continued to show his rage toward Hvitserk. “You were not fit to kiss her feet.” He stopped to grab his face again, “And you are not fit to be called a son of Ragnar.” Slap. Slap.
Your heart broke; For your husband, for the loss of his mother, and now for the loss of his brother. Björn grabbed Hvitserk by the roots of his hair. “And when you killed my mother,” his voice was low and raspy, “You killed a part of me, too.” They were nose to nose, “And you have to understand, I can never forgive you.” Björn whispered in his ear. Hvitserk didn’t plead for his life. He agreed with everything his brother said. You watched on as your husband condemned his brother.
Björn returned to his seat next to you. You hoped he missed how your thighs squeezed together as he drew closer. It did not go unnoticed. "I will decide his fate tomorrow. Get this murderer out of my sight." He dismissed Hvitserk. The same men who dragged him in, drug him back out. "Be sure to throw cold water on him periodically, so he doesn't have time to sleep."
You let your gaze travel from his tattooed eye, to his heaving chest, all the way down to his cock, which was straining against the fabric of his breeches. Your breath hitched. The sight of it, even in confines, always took your breath away.
For a moment, you wondered if your impure thoughts were inappropriate given the current events. All doubts were wiped from your mind when Björn addressed the folks that were still littering the Great Hall. "I am going to fuck my wife on my throne, so I suggest you all leave. Unless you want to watch, I don't think the queen would mind." Björn cast a look at Ubbe, whose eyes widened before leaving the Hall.
The thought only furthered your arousal. "Come," Björn ordered, patting his lap. You complied, bunching up your skirts to straddle him. Björn looked at you, all signs of anger gone. He had sad eyes again, that pleaded with you. "Help me forget. Just for a little while." Tears were threatening to spill down his face as he begged, "please."
With deft fingers, you untied the strings of his pants as he ripped off his tunic. He lifted his ass, allowing you to wiggle them down enough to free his aching cock. You knew you were ready. You were always ready for him. He ran the head through your soaking folds before lining up with your entrance.
The burn as you sank down on him was pleasurable with just the right amount of pain. Björn groaned, already losing himself in the feeling of your cunt. His large hands gripped your ass, helping you lower you until he was fully seated inside. You hissed at the stretch.
He kept a hold on your hips, leaning forward to lay his forehead on yours. In that moment, the two of you were one. At that moment, Björn felt whole. "Are you ready?" He asked breathlessly. You nodded, lifting your lips to his. You kissed him passionately as you slowly started to roll your hips.
You made love slowly, your hands keeping purchase on his tattooed chest. Björn's eyes were screwed shut, his grip on you never loosening. He whispered in your ear in between guttural moans.
"You feel amazing."
"Please, don't leave me."
"I love you, takre."
He sped up your movements, not giving you a choice. "Björn, please." You mewled, begging for release, begging for his release. "Let go for me, my King."
The noises the two of you made were raw, animalistic as you chased your highs. Björn slammed you down onto him, shattering the wall holding back your orgasms. Groans of your name and I love you poured from his lips.
You moved your right hand down to your belly keeping your left over his heart. "May the gods bless us with our first child." You prayed before connecting your lips with his once more. "I love you, Kóngurinn Minn."
#vikings smut#vikings fic#björn ironside#bjorn ironside x reader#bjorn x reader#bjorn ironside smut#bjorn imagine#bjorn ragnarsson#bjorn ironside x f!reader#vikings spoilers#kat writes#a bang for your bucky
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Thanks for the tag @slutsofren I really like this!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
29 😬
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
532035
3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
Star Wars Sequels
Rebels
ADCU
OICU
DGCU
4. What are your top 5 by Kudos?
Too Far Gone
Echoes of the Heart
Unbroken
Paper Hearts
Shadows
5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I do! I love engaging with comments on my fics!
6. What’s the fic you’re written with the angstiest ending?
Erm…😅
He’s Home
Fading Away
“I’ll Always be by Your Side”
Losing You
7. Do you write crossovers?
I am working on a True Blood and Star Wars crossover, also a SW and Constantine crossover.
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
I have, a fic that was very close to my heart as it helped me process my husband and leaving me but I stopped working on it after someone decided to leave seem pretty shitty anons in my inbox.
9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I think my smut is BORING. I try and keep it different so people reading it don’t get bored but hell, I try and write what I know but my sex life is non existent and has been for a while 🤣
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of! I only post on tumblr and AO3 so if they’re anywhere else that ain’t me.
11. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope.
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I am working on a few right now! @daydreamsofren we have a couple going and @a-bang-for-your-bucky and I have one we haven’t worked on in ages.
13. What is your all time favourite ship?
ME and General Armitage Hux. End of.
14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
I’d really like to finish Shadows. I mean it’s all there and ready, just some gap filling is needed I just don’t think I can.
15. What are your writing strengths?
ANGST. Possibly dialogue.
16. What are your writing weaknesses?
Smut. I struggle but I struggle more with fluff. I just don’t have it in me!
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
I am not versed in another language so generally I try to stay away from that unless it’s a Star Wars language and then I will use it.
18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Star Wars and ADCU
19. What’s your favourite fic you’ve ever written?
I have a couple of multi chapters I adore but my favourite would have to be Echoes of the Heart. I actually cried when I finished it because I didn’t want to leave RC and General Hux behind after all they’d been through.
No pressure tags: @daydreamsofren @a-bang-for-your-bucky @hopeamarsu @clydesducktape @mariesackler @theold-ultraviolence @acrossthesestars @hedgy-hog and anyone else who wants to join in!
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ffxiv or oicu :)
what if i did both ;)
ffxiv:
blorbo - Hythlodaeus
scrunkly - graha
scrimblo bimblo - Chai Nuzz and Moenbryda,, i had to pick both
glup shitto - vidofnir
poor little meow meow - do i have to say it. do i. (its nero)
horse plinko - mmmmm Emet
eeby deeby - zenos (affectionate) and hildibrand (derogatory)
oicu
blorbo - oni
scrunkly - Aeon??? hes the most baby faced of the gang
scrimblo bimblo - Caelestis
glup shitto - Atlas (this is a cry for lore)
poor little meow meow - Atreus
horse plinko - icarus :)
eeby deeby - eirian (i love him dearly but i am shoving his head in the toilet as we speak)
#asks#tee hee#took. a very long time w the ffxiv ones#so many deserve blorbo status bc i lvoe them all
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I’ve become obsessed with your page (god, that probably comes off as really creepy but I promise it’s not meant to be. Please don’t judge I have no social skills /jk) and I have an Ocean injury to share. It may turn out a bit long as I have a tendency to ramble and feel like I have to set the scene to tell this story in a funny way, but anyway, here we go!
When I was around 8-9 years old, I was playing Just Dance on the wii with my siblings. At this time, I’m playing against my younger sibling and we’re dancing to ‘Girlfriend’ by Avril Lavigne to set the scene even more. Everything is fine, my parents are upstairs, my older sibling is waiting for her turn, we’re having fun.
Then disaster strikes. My younger sibling gets a little too aggressive as we’re doing a move that’s basically taking it in turns to point at each other. Their wii remote strikes my hand and I feel something move weirdly. I look at my hand and see my pinky finger at a kinda weird angle. It’s dislocated. I panic thinking I’m gonna need to go to hospital to fix it. (I’m disabled and have a fear of hospitals, really fun.) My older sibling sees it and realises something is wrong and I’m panicking, muttering about going to hospital quietly because I don’t want my parents to hear and take me there. They tell me to let them see it and then gently takes my hand…
Before just yanking my finger back into place and swearing my younger sibling and I to complete secrecy about what happened. We agreed and actually managed to keep quiet about it and my parents found out about it maybe 5 years later?
I imagine this happens to Ocean as she is with the choir one day. Maybe at Constance’s house or Mischa’s basement while they are playing a video game. There’s a controller mishap and boom, dislocated finger.
From here I have three options…
1. Ocean freaks for a minute and then just relocates it and then acts as if nothing happened. The choir are wide eyed and kinda creeped out.
2. Mischa does what my sibling did and does the ‘oh no, let me look at it’ routine and then just quickly pops it back in.
3. Penny just walks up as the group is freaking out, grabs Ocean’s hand and then relocates it before going back to wherever she was sitting and gesturing for everyone to come play again.
Personally, I think the Penny option is funniest but I’d like to see what you think :)
first, it’s not creepy, i promise! i am here to entertain y’all ;)
second, then you for your generous contribution to the OICU! this has been added to the ever growing list of issues we’ve forced onto her!
i definitely like the last the most, just because it is the funniest one. Penny just walking up to them all nonchalantly, yanks Ocean’s whole bone back into place, then saunters away like nothing happened. i love it!
#ask#ride the cyclone headcanons#rtc headcanons#rtc#ride the cyclone#ocean o’connell rosenberg#mischa bachinski#penny lamb#jane doe
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Rumba Drops Today! Link in his bio @_boicue oiCue . . . #RizmaDigital #Rizma9ja #blackfriday #blackfridaydiscount #Website #Blog #DigitalMarketing #Adobeillustrator #AfterEffect #2D #3D #MotionGraphics #Graphicsdesign #OnlineHype #Publicity#UrbanLifestyle #Music #Creativity https://www.instagram.com/p/CNpQEz0phZ6/?igshid=nrmoo5k0amr5
#rizmadigital#rizma9ja#blackfriday#blackfridaydiscount#website#blog#digitalmarketing#adobeillustrator#aftereffect#2d#3d#motiongraphics#graphicsdesign#onlinehype#publicity#urbanlifestyle#music#creativity
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I’m helping photographers use their iPhones to create fine art photography and then hopefully leave them for sale. https://youtu.be/oicU-vbZ3Mc
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