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jangofctts · 3 years

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omg I just read so much of your writing and I’m 🥺🥰🥲🥵 the absolute royalty shit that we see here today. i’ve recently discovered I am very into ~thigh riding~ so do u have any thots on how our boys (especially our clone babes) feel about it? much obliged

IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY KEJHKJRH SO HERE YOU GO OMG

boba: yEs--boba absolutely adORES when you crawl into his lap and straddle his thigh. he’ll either pat his lap and invite you up or it’s one of those times when he’s intentionally ignoring you and you have force your way onto his lap so he has to pay attention. imo the first time you ride his thigh you weren't intending to, you wanted to fuck him but with boba, if you want something from him he’s gonna do it his way or twist it into something to tease you. so he’ll say something like “if you’re so desperate, ride my thigh” or maybe “ride my thigh and then we’ll see if you deserve my cock.” he’ll sit back and enjoy the show with a smug grin, one hand gripping your hip. he’s not controlling your pace, it’s mostly just there as an anchor bc you’re gonna be doing all the work. you’re lucky if you get to ride his bare thigh, but most of the time he’s got pants on so they always end up soaked after you cum and boba always teases you for it, “ruined another pair of pants, little one” but really he isn't even one to talk, he’ll be rock hard and leaking through his pants too. he’ll also nine times out of ten put his fingers or thumb into your mouth to suck on while he flexes and pushes the hard muscle of his thigh up to your cunt. he likes that satisfaction of knowing that even his thigh can make you shudder and whine his name--a bit of a power trip esp if he’s sitting on the throne. he’ll fuck you nice and hard afterwards if you’re a good little princess for him

din: din wants you to ride the beskar thigh plating. he doesn't realize it’s a thing he finds arousing until you sit over his thigh and he sees the heat from your thighs fog up the metal while your arousal smears over the shiny beskar. literally it’s like something just CRACKS in him and he goes feral for it. a dark thrill that comes from seeing your cunt drip over his precious armor, something so sacrilegious that shouldn't be arousing but it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. sure, it’s a bit cold at first but the more you get into it the quicker it heats up--it’s slippery too, not a lot of friction unless you drag your clit over the seams of the armor, but with din’s hands holding onto your hips and dragging you over his thigh, it’s not long before you cum. din is gonna be encouraging you the whole time, just a constant flow of praise and little moans of his own. he might bury a hand in your hair or slip off his glove and touch your clit when your hips roll up into his hand. he’d loose his mind if you lended a hand and palmed him through his pants. he doesn't even care if he ruins his trousers, he’s just so...fixated on the hypnotic motions of your hips rolling over his thigh, your wetness dripping off the plating and onto the floor. he might focus on your mouth, parted with gasping moans or how they roll the syllable of his name. he likes to watch you come undone like this, shuddering and whiney as you cum and eventually roll off his thigh. he probably busts a nut right then and there if you start to roll your tongue over the beskar, happily cleaning up the mess you made. but....sometimes...lick it off himself just to get a taste of you

paz: big boy blue ALSO likes when you ride his beskar, but he likes it better when the armor is off and he gets to feel your wetness for himself. he has big ol’ beefy thighs and likes when you straddle one and start to ride him like that. imo he likes it when youre pressed up right near his cock so when you roll forward your own thigh brushes against his cock. it’s also just easier for him to grab your hips, set a pace and watch you squirm and whine. ngl he’s more interested in fucking you, so he’ll get cheeky and start jerking his thigh or holding you in place while he circles his thumb over your clit. p much will sabotage your wild ride and convince you to slide onto his cock instead. though,....if you were to tie him up, tease him bye riding his thigh, he might like that :)

rex: oH rexY BOY--listen, rex has heard ALL about thigh riding, or rather what the clones like to call it, “paint job”. he doesn't understand the big deal, thinks that it’d be a complete hassle to clean and what not. in my oPiNiOn he’ll be sitting with you in an empty break room or on a couch, you both have feelings for each other but nothing's been said yet. somehow the topic of paint jobs come up and he tells you what he thinks and how it “couldn't possibly feel good, blah blah blah”. you just roll your eyes and you ask if he’s even tried it. he definitely blushes and mumbles out a no and with a leap of faith you ask him if he wants you to ride his thigh. baby boy rex gets very shy and embarrassed about it but he’s not gonna say no. so you’ll flash him a little grin and peel off your pants and your over shirt, make rex relax against the back of the couch/chair and sit over his plastoid covered thigh. even though when you start to grind on his thigh you still have your underwear on, rex with pick a corner of the room to just stare at. it’s not because he doesn't like you, he’s just incredibly shy and afraid he’ll cum in his pants if he looks at you. you gotta cup his jaw and force him to look at you. when that happens his eye will immediately drop to between your legs and just moan at the sight. he gets it now. seeing your arousal that’s already leaking through the thin fabric and staining the blue and white plastoid--he has to grip the fucking sidearm to anchor himself. his armor is one of the only things that he owns and is proud of, so seeing you riding his thigh, moaning and whimpering his name he goes wild for that shit. unfortunately he does end up cumming in his pants but eh fuck it. it was worth it

cody: he likes when you ride his thigh in semi public places like the 79′s, debrief room, gunships, you name it. imma explain the 79′s scenario bc im a whore but anyway, cody likes to bring you on dates there, one because the drinks are free for him, two it’s dark and so unless someone is really looking at the two of you, it’s pretty secluded. he always chooses a back corner table and after a couple drinks you start to get handsy--nuzzling his neck and wiggling your fingers between the gaps separating his thigh and codpiece. it alWAYS starts like that. cody will chuckle, push his nose into your neck and nibble a line up to your ear, then bite down onto the cartilage. in that dark, rumbly voice he might sigh “such a depraved little creature. we’re in public”. but you can feel his smile and how is pulse quickens under your fingertips. cody will sigh and shake his head as he pulls you onto his lap, bUT--he’s gonna have you with your back to his chest plate, your dress/skirt/pants rolled up or down just barely in the view of anyone who glances over or looks a little closer. it’d be no secret what you both were up to but cody likes that. dude doesn't have any shame and so he’ll wrap an arm over your hip, push you panties to the side and slide his fingers through your folds. once they're coated in your arousal he might pop them into his mouth or yours, clean them off then flex his thigh onto your pussy. when he asks you to grind on his thigh you readily agree. while you ride his thigh he’ll nibble at your throat and suck bruises onto your skin, either watching your wet pussy slide over the plastoid armor or on the look out in case one of his brothers comes near. one time, just as you started to cum, a couple fresh shiny’s got an entire eyeful of you arching and burying your nose into cody’s neck as he rolled his fingers over your clit. safe to say they were a bit spooked--but of course, cody thought it was the funniest thing and couldn't stop laughing even if you were close to tears with embarrassment. now....he doesn't invite anyone to watch, but he wouldn't say no to a few prying eyes

wolffe: I feel like with wolffe, it’s gonna be right after a mission--one of you might've almost died or gotten real hurt so he’s not thinking about fucking you properly--he just want his mouth on yours, hands buried in your hair as he pins you against the wall. I dont think he initially meant for you to ride his thigh, but when he wedges it between your legs and you moan into his mouth the second he increases the pressure, he freezes. he’ll do it again and when it receives the same reaction from you he smirks and tugs on your hair and might say smthn like “you like that? if you wanted to ride my thigh you could've asked sooner”. he’s either focused on your face or on your pussy, just soaking up all your little reactions or twitches when you roll your cunt over the plastoid. he'll have both hands on your hips, helping you grin up on him, while you either cup his face or grip his arm. either way youre in for a wild fucking ride--wolffe tbh wants to see his armor dripping by the time he’s done with you. sO do nOT be surprised if he just, doesn't let you stop, pushes you to keep going until he’s satisfied. imo I think he’ll make you lick it up after, or just in general would really Like It if you run your tongue over any part of his armor. he likes to be Appreciated :)

wrecker (im sorry I just nEEDed to include him kejkejh): honestly since baby boy wrecker is uh, so big, thigh riding is some of the first things you try with him. you’ll both be butt ass naked bc it’s just easier to explore like this, and while wrecker is eager he knows he has to think about his strength in order not to overwhelm or hurt you unintentionally. he’s a bit of a goof ball so when you straddle his thigh and bring his thicC fingers to your cunt he’ll smile and say some shit like “wow, you’re wet” or like “is it always this wet/soft?” he doesn't mean for it to be teasing, it's more like he’s just stating a fact bc he’s curious about you. you just nod and say it’s all for you, baby/only for you. the second you put your cunt over his thigh he’ll curse and clamp his hands around your hips or ribcage, and just to make the experience all that better for him, you’ll jerk him off while you ride him. wrecker is very vocal/loud and so you’ll know exactly what you’re doing that he likes--he’ll probably tell you how pretty you look, or how good you smell etc., that bOY IS SO FULL OF LOVE and just wants to tell you! it doesn't take long for him to spill into your hand, he shakes and no doubt wakes up half the barrack/ship but who the fuck cares. you just smile and continue to ride his thigh, chasing your own thigh. once he recovers a bit, you can grab his fingers and show him how you like to be touched. he’s a surprisingly quick learner with this and so it doesn't take long for you to cum. afterwards he’ll run his fingers over his thigh, collect the mess you left and taste you and maybe say “you should ride my face. can we do that?”

#yeeHAW this was #whEW #jkkjehr #boba fett x reader #din djarin #paz vizsla x reader #commander wolffe x reader #wrecker tcw #wrecker x reader #boba fett #paz vizsla #captain rex x reader #captain rex #commander wolffe #commander cody #the bad batch #my writing

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oi-isha-oi · 3 years

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I inhaled three packs of dinosaurs drug and now I am a walking encyclopaedia of dinosaur facts.

Apatosaurus are larger and had a lower neck than brontosaurus.

They were also one of the largest land animals

Prosaurolophus means “before saurolophus”

Stegosaurus got small ping pong brain.

The plates are temperature-regulation device.

Velociraptors are my second favourite dinosaurs.

Raptors are smart, but they’re most likely as smart as an average bird..so..

Raptors are small actually, they’re about the size of adult wolves.

It’s known now that raptors are feathered.

Can’t say confidently about rexy :/

There’s claims where rexy had feathers on their head and tails, or on their entire body, or no feathers at all. There’s a theory that feathered t-rex exist in regions where it can get stupidly cold but even that’s debatable.

REXY CAN’T ROAR!! Rexy has a hearing tune to low-frequency. If they could roar like we see in popular media (Jurassic Park/ Jurassic World) they’d go deaf. Instead they let out a low and horrifying rumble.

Rexy is also probably a bit chunky than we thought. Therefore chunky rexy is my only rexy.

Also rexy probably has lips. As in, it covers their teeth like most land animals. Think of the clouded leopard. They have enormous fangs however they don’t stick out like how we imagine a saber tooth tiger. So despite the t-rex having rows of sharp teeth, it’s most possible that they don’t stick out like (again) in popular media

Triceratops are my number one favourite dinosaurs because they look stupid. In fact all ceratopsid look stupid and I love all of them.

Okay.

#my art #dinosaurs #sweaters #chibi #chibi art

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that-other-him · 3 years

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In the belly of the Leviathan

Warmind!Au Destiny story inspired by and tying in with @hdreaper 's own story just posted. Please enjoy!

Fear was something of an old hat to Winter. Memory skips left her anxious, quarantine duty made her anxious, being cut off from Rexy, her frames and the network made her anxious, the anxiety making the memory skips worse made her anxious...

But the fear she'd been living with for the last month blew all of that out of the water.

Ra-1, the fist of Rasputin, the Dragon Ascendant, had personally sent her a message to say that if she didn't start doing exactly what he told her, he'd activate the code-black killcodes built into her Rasputin Exo body, and blow her Exomind into electronic spaghetti. After all, she was wired into the Charlemagne network, and had a documented set of fears he could abuse. She'd gather confidential data for him, she'd send him warnings of Charlemagne's actions, and she'd allow his scientists to try and duplicate Rexy, and the fear of final death would keep her in line.

But.

But but but.

Rasputin's records of her had been accurate...once. Yes, she was still afraid, but her body was no longer a Rasputin model. It couldn't be; that whole area was considered an infohazard now, and her last body was never coming home. And without that final threat, she'd found the courage to do something...stupid.

So here she was, on Ra's flagship in deep space with Charlemagne's blessing. She'd met up with lance troops a few times for debriefs, but recently she'd been allowed to spend time on the flagship itself, ready for Ra to send her where he wanted her. But that same set of interface skills that had allowed her access to Charli's files had also granted access to just a few of Ra's.

Winter paced back and forth in the tiny cabin she’d been assigned. She wasn’t sure if it was some kind of power conservation action, but the light down here barely cut through the shadows. She could have headed up to one of the main decks where things were a bit less claustrophobic, but Ra’s soldiers were everywhere there, and being the only blue-lit Exo on the entire ship guaranteed her the kind of attention that, if things went wrong today, could get her killed. She checked the ship’s clock fruitlessly. Somewhere out there, right now, Ra himself was boots-down on Riis. The data scraps she’d found didn’t say why, or for how long, but there was no question that he was just a little vulnerable right now.

Just a little would have to be enough; her Guardian contacts, who she’d affectionately nicknamed Fireteam Fuzzy, had cut their way through all kinds of monsters since she’d met them, and she’d made damn sure they knew exactly how dangerous he would be. She’d helped Fuzzy find their targets and coordinated some bounties for them down in the Quarantine zone, and when she’d outlined her proposal, they’d agreed to pass it on without question. It could have been typical guardian bravado, but she knew they’d lost friends to Ghostbuster rounds in the attack on the farm a while back. Maybe they actually trusted her.

Maybe that trust was going to get them killed.

Pushing that thought away and herself to her feet, Winter shoved her way past the door and started striding away towards the lifts. One way or another, with the Ira Terra still out in the styx, any news of the strike would take time to arrive, if her information had even been good in the first place. If she was going to stew in uncertainty, she may as well do it somewhere that felt less like a prison cell. Ra may have been a terrifying, merciless, wannabe-tyrant, but the facilities he provided for his troops were actually first rate. She’d find a sim-station no-one was using and throw herself into some story until the guillotine had, one way or another, dropped.

She had made it to the first brightly lit corridor of the barracks floor when her whole body exploded into pain.

Protocols cut in, protecting her mind from the overwhelming agony, partitioning and quarantining it. The feeling of burning alive dipped, sank, then seemed to drain from her whole body into solely her left forearm. When she could see again, she was crumpled against the wall of the corridor, chest heaving, digital heart still pumping on overdrive. It felt unpleasantly like the worst of the memory blips-she was in pain, alone, with no idea why or what to defend against. She cast her eyes down and to her left, and just like with the blips, her circumstances slotted into place. Set into the casing of her arm, where her network interface and uplink were supposed to be, were a smoking ruin of burned and self-destructing circuits. Her only remaining Rasputin hardware, her connection to her frames, to Rexy, to the ship’s system.

Ra-1 had just tried to kill her.

Oh, if she had thought she’d been afraid before, it paled in comparison to the terror that swallowed her now. It felt like her heart was going to burst out through her chest. There was no way her guardians would have told him she was responsible, right? They knew she was undercover, and even in the heat of the fight, he could have sent the kill codes at any time. They’d keep her secret...

...until their dying breaths.

There was a crackling noise that initially failed to cut through the panic, until it resolved unto the familiar voice of the great warlord, and even as the announcement rang out the ship’s engines powered into life and rumbled the flagship into thunderous motion.

“Attention, warriors of the Broken Lance. A guardian strike team has just made an attempt on my life, using information given to them by a traitor within our ranks, Winter-1. The guardians have been dealt with, and I have already ensured she has been rewarded as a traitor deserves. However, an example must still be made. Have her remains gathered and waiting for me upon my return to the Terra. Her masters shall have her broken husk returned to them. A commendation to the squad who has her corpse in my office upon my arrival. Ra out.”

Oh.

Hmm.

Ah, ok.

Winter was pretty sure she’d just lost a minute or two by the time her awareness came back to her. She still felt like she was about to die (fully independent of the hundreds of trained and eager killers probably now closing in on her position) but the freeze instinct was graduating to flight. She had an exit strategy, at Charlemagne’s insistence. It wasn’t a good strategy, but the warmind had explicitly ordered her to try. She reached out with her interface to the subroutine she’d left running on the ship’s server, and-

Ah. Her eyes once again turned to the sparking, melted mess where her interface was supposed to sit. It felt like one of her senses had been scooped out; a huge, gaping wound where the network was supposed to be. Nevermind just the escape protocol, without the access codes built into it, ninety five percent of the systems in the ship would no longer recognise her as a person, including the ones required to log into any network access point on the ship. She knew where her escape protocol was located, and could theoretically trigger it if she could reach an unsecured terminal.

But right now she could already hear tramping boots approaching from the barracks and she had no choice but to run.

She lost count of how many times she blipped as she led a desperate game of cat and mouse through the guts of the ship. The Ira Terra was bigger than the Stultorum had been, back when she’d served upon it, but if the ship ran about the same, the cargo deck mid-flight would be on skeleton crew with nobody caring if an unsecured terminal was technically a security violation. So she kept heading down and back, focusing on that one thought to the exclusion of all else. When she blipped in this time, she was halfway down a corridor created by two shipping containers, moving towards the illuminated sign of a shift breakroom. She took the next step and immediately fell nearly to the floor, sprawling gracelessly and nearly braining herself on the container. Oh-she’d been shot. That explained why her right side and upper leg were one big mess of static and pins-and-needles. She supported herself on the side of the crate and limped forward, conscious of the shouts and stomping boots echoing from somewhere in the distance behind her. She made it to the door, shouldering it open, almost collapsing with relief when her flickering vision was met with the friendly glow of an open terminal. She immediately dragged herself to it, closing the chat and shipwide alert windows to immediately start digging for her protocol.

She must have been five seconds in when she heard the shatter of breaking crockery behind her.

Slowly turning to face the noise, Winter looked into the eyes of the exo washing the dishes in the kitchenette, set into the corner of the breakroom. For a moment, both were still, surprised, the other Exo’s hand still in the air where it had been holding the coffee mug a moment ago. Then his eyes flicked to the screen of the terminal, where a moment ago had been the bounty on the only blue-lit Exo on the ship.

She didn’t even question trying to engage him. She whirled back to the screen, fingers flying as she desperately raced to run the command. The man had no weapons, probably no combat training, but he crashed into her from behind and her leg went out from under her, skull bouncing off the frame of the screen as he tried to wrap his arms around hers, voice bellowing that he’d found her. She was so close it burned, even more intense than the pain. She gripped one of her hands with the other and shoved it over her shoulder as hard as she could, outstretched thumb punching into his optic and causing a very human scream that no amount of mechanical upgrades would prevent. His grip slackened, and she pulled herself out of his arms and high enough to see the screen.

There were shouts behind her, the sounds of guns being brought to attention, the exo at her feet was tightening his grip again, and her vision was fading into black on the edges.

She hit the last key on the screen.

Everything went white, then black, silent and cold.

It was maybe ten seconds before the first ship thundered across her line of sight in the perfect silence of vacuum, the many supporting ships of Ra's fleet rushing to keep up with the flagship as it finished positioning itself for the jump. Even its coasting speed had brought it far enough away from Winter to render it a tiny dot in the distance, before there was a flash of light and the ships were gone.

Her transmat had been a random distance in a random direction, untraceable, and searching for her would delay the ship's travel to pick up Ra. She'd be left behind in the void, passing beyond its signal jamming, allowing the beacon hidden in her circuits to finally begin transmitting. A waiting friendly vessel would be on route to pick her up, provided the fleet hadn't shot it out of the sky.

Which left Winter here, curled in a ball as the moisture on her clothes crystallised. In theory, Exos were built to be vacuum-resistant, but she had a feeling that resistance didn't account for there being two bleeding holes in her dermis.

The thought drifted through her brain as her senses shut down one by one:

Who would claim her first: the cold, the bleeding, or her rescue?

She found herself thinking that she didn't want to die again.

Slowly, the black faded back to white.

#destiny 2 writing #warmind au #Winter-1/2/3

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starvingtastesbetter · 3 years

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I feel like such a good rexie whenever my stomach rumbles

#skiny body #i wanna be skiny #ana restriction #ana rex #thinsppi #thin inspo #ana tumblr

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whirlybirbs · 4 years

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hope I never had feeling for Rex until your blog and now I have feelings pls give us the Rex content

a/n: here’s a continuation of this, because i am hot n bothered for rexy tonight.

Rex wonders how in the world he managed this.

Forget the fact you’d both just survived a three day long mission to the Outer Rim, securing a horde of encrypted Separatist data-drives filled with enough live-fire to earn him early retirement. It’s not the fact he’d been shot twice on the assignment, or the fact you’d all barely gotten away by the skin of your teeth, no --

It’s the fact that you’re listening to him ramble on about training procedures on Kamino as if it’s the most engaging thing you’ve ever heard.

You’re posed in the booth beside him, turned completely and resting your head in your hand that’s braced against the back of the velvet booth. Your legs are crossed, bare skin still distracting even in the dim lights of 79′s. Your dress is short, and Rex is suddenly reminded that you’re not a soldier like him. You’re a civilian -- a criminal, really -- who happens to have a skill set useful to the Republic.

You’re familiar with the lower levels of Coruscant -- you’d grown up on these streets, partied in these bars. Rex wonders, off-handedly, if you’ve ever done this before. Y’know, drink with an off-duty clone captain.

Or, is he just the luckiest man in the entire Grand Army of the Republic?

He stumbles over his words as his train of thought is derailed and your lips quirk -- the smile there is warm.

“What?”

“... I’m sorry?”

“You’re doing the face --”

“You said this before,” he harrumphs, “And I don’t make a face.”

You peel into a sweet laugh, hand finding your drink as you sip it and shake your head. “You do. It’s when you’re concentrating.”

“Well, pardon me --”

“Concentrating on my legs, then?”

Rex sputters into his beer and you offer the slyest of grins -- he’d hoped that his sweep of you in the booth had gone unnoticed. But, he’s not surprised you caught it. You’d been happily paying attention to his every word. He should have known.

“I wasn’t --”

You roll your eyes, nodding. Your voice is light with play-fullness. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to the Captain to stare. If that was the case, you wouldn’t have worn the tight little dress.

“Sure, sure, c’mon, Capítan, I wanna learn what kinda face I should expect when you lie --”

That gets a laugh out the blonde who takes an indignant sip from his drink.

Quietly, he rumbles a cautious:

“... Can you blame me?”

Your jaw falls open a bit and you smirk, leaning forward and prodding at the composite armor along his arm. “... Is that you flirting?”

“... Maybe a bit, yes.”

Honey colored eyes glimpse your way out the corner of his eyes and he smirks, then, spurring you to laugh -- you sit forward, scooting yourself close enough that your knees touch his beneath the table. Rex leans back, mimicking your engaged posture with both of his elbows coming to rest on the table. His eyes are on you, now, and he’s openly staring -- you drop your head into the arm resting on the table, face near his.

“I thought that was against regulation.”

“Lots of things are,” he chirps, “Like kill-counts on your armor or trophies from th’ battlefield... an’ I’d never do those things, would I?”

He’s being sarcastic. You watched him do both of those things just this last mission; during down-time, he’d meticulously carved more tallies onto the blue paint along his wrist with a sharpened battle droid finger he kept in his pack. When you’d asked, he said he was counting by tens.

In the strobing, colorful lights of 79′s upstairs bar, your fingers find the gouges in the composite -- fingertips scale the armor along his bicep. You count eight marks. Eighty droids.

Rex watches, jaw tightening. “Now you’re makin’ a face.”

“I’m thinking about what would happen if you broke,” you gesture between the two of you; your voice is smooth like satin, “this regulation.”

His brows raise. He scoffs, albeit bitterly.

“A court-martial, maybe.”

Your jaw nearly drops in shock. “You’re kidding.”

Rex makes the face. This was a bit different from the staple, though, because it’s shadowed by a looming sense of anger and resentment as he speaks.

“Relationships, romantic or sexual in nature, are prohibited via the Grand Army of the Republic’s conduct code -- chapter 90, article 4a,” he mumbles, sipping his beer, “Though, try telling that to any man in this bar, I suppose.”

“... And men who... who fall in love?” you sputter, looking around, “That’s... I mean, you’re people --”

“Not to the Republic,” Rex chides, “We’re property.”

There’d been plenty of stories about men who’d eloped -- certain sectors in the Outer Rim offered citizenship to some troopers, you’d read, and the basic rights the Republic denied them. You’d read, three weeks ago, about an ARC Trooper who’d run off with a Senator’s aid; they’d gotten married on some tropical planet and had been granted immunity. It’d been a story circulating on the holo-net for weeks, met with mixed emotions. You’d overheard Fives and Kix talking about it, even, and happily chimed in with their sentiments:

Clones deserved happiness, love, freedom... They were sentient, after all.

“Do you believe that?” you ask, tilting your head, “Truly?”

Another scoff. “Not one bit.”

Your smile could light up the whole bar. Rex leans back in the booth and admires it, his own expression lightening substantially as you nod. Silence slips between you both as your gazes roam one another’s faces. Rex really does suppose he’s the luckiest trooper in all of 79′s right now. You’re beautiful. More beautiful than anyone he’d ever seen in all his days.

“... Am I worth a court-martial, then?”

His gut swims. You cross your legs a bit tighter, chewing your lips.

The words rush out in an exhale.

“Yes, you are.”

#heheheh #captain rex imagine #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #clone trooper imagine

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tor-the-tyrannosaur · 2 months

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I did a thing

#therian #otherkin #paleotherian #alterhuman #otherkin community #therian community #paleotherianthropy #alterhuman community #nonhuman #nonhumanity #nonhuman community #therianthropy #otherkinity #alterhumanity #paleokin #paleo kin #Rexy rumbles

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quinn-my-beloved · 3 years

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It's Just Toast - Chapter One

So this is the first chapter of my fic, It's Just Toast. I'd love if you guys read/commented/liked/reblogged/whatever, but if not it's totally cool! I wrote this to sort of cope with my eating disorder, but then it spiralled from there into a project of its own, and it really means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy <3

This is a Kurtbastian fic, but the main focus is on EDs, not on the ship, just to be clear.

Major Trigger Warnings for Eating Disorders

“I’ll have a black coffee, thanks,” he said, chewing at his lip as he tried to look anywhere but at his friend, who would surely suspect that something was up. Luckily, Blaine was too engrossed in with Jeff to comprehend what he had ordered. He breathed a sigh of relief, offering a weak to the barista as he ordered for the other two and paid. Nick gave him a strange look, but didn’t say anything, and quickly forgot when he realized that Kurt had paid.

“Kurt, what the hell, man? You’re in a line full of with enough to buy the NFL, at least let us use it to buy you !” Kurt laughed weakly, rocking anxiously on his heels as he tried to clear the clouds in .

“Don’t worry about it, it’s the least I could do after practically dragging you to see our opposing at sectionals,” He replied, shooting him a playful wink and grabbing their coffees. He distributed the to the other before sipping at his own, grateful to soothe his rumbling stomach and racing . He held onto the wall as subtly as he could, taking a long swig of to clear his cloudy as he walked toward a . He sat down with a forced smile, wrapping his around the coffee and shutting his eyes until the spots in his vision disappeared. The other didn’t seem to notice, at least, not until Nick shoved a muffin toward him with a laugh, bouncing in his seat.

“Alright, Hummel, you have to try this, it’s insane,” he gushed. Kurt felt his speed up, racing to think of as he gripped cup tighter, leaving small dents in the side of the thin container. Blaine looked over at him, raising . Nick and Jeff soon looked at him the same way. “Hello, earth to Kurt?” Nick’s brows knitted together in concern, “you’re supposed to eat the muffin, not glare at it.”

Kurt suddenly realized that he had gotten lost in thought and taken too long to answer, as all the other were looking at him worriedly. He took a deep breath, shaking his head and wrinkling his a bit. He wrapped one hand over his stomach, squeezing his eyes tightly shut for before speaking up.

“Sorry guys, I’m just not feeling too this . I woke up out of it, and I think I might be coming down with something,” he explained confidently, wavering to show that he wasn’t feeling well. See, while he may feel exceptionally bad about it, Kurt was good at lying. One would get quite of practice after being in for fifteen . He paused, before continuing. “Actually, I think I may need to take a check today. I know we were supposed to go for pizza, but there is no way in hell that my stomach will let me have something that greasy without hurling on the nearest poorly-dressed millennial,” he laughed. “I’m really sorry, guys. Maybe we can make it up at the alley ? I need to get back to my before this gets any worse.” Kurt smiled weakly at the boys, who seemed convinced.

“Gee, Kurt, you should have just told us you were feeling bad,” frowned Jeff, “Do you need me to walk you back to our dorm? Now that I think about it, you are looking a bit pale…”

Kurt shook his head. “I’m always pale, Coach Sylvester doesn’t call me Porcelain for my deep tan,” he teased, “but I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern, but you all have been looking forward to this. Just have fun, alright? I’ll see you tonight.

Jeff seemed satisfied with that answer until Nick spoke up, not completely convinced. “I don’t know, Kurt. Black coffee must be awful on an upset stomach, are you sure you don’t need anything?”

At this, the other boys seemed to do a double take, looking at Kurt incredulously. Blaine laughed a bit, though the knit in his eyebrows deepened out of concern. “Black coffee? What are you doing, Kurt, you’re not turning into some sort of ‘rexie, are you?” Jeff smacked him on the arm, as Kurt’s heart skipped a beat. “What? He always gets the same thing, and he hasn’t eaten breakfast. Besides, it was just a joke.”

Kurt frowned, looking directly at Blaine. “Not a funny joke, gel-met. Besides, I only ordered it so the sugar in my mocha didn’t upset my stomach any further. But, since my eating habits are so concerning to you, I’ll make sure to update you every time I eat a grape,” he replied coldly. He turned to the other boys with a tight-lipped smile, a soft huff slipping through his lips. “I’ll see you boys later,” he said stiffly, not proud of the way he was handling this in the slightest. Regardless, he turned on his heel, but not before shooting Blaine one last icy glare and downing the rest of the coffee. After he had walked out of the coffee shop, Nick and Jeff looked at each other in shock.

“Holy shit, I didn’t know he could be that scary, did you know he was that scary?”

“No, I didn’t know he was that scary! Blaine, did you know he could be that scary?”

Blaine looked away from the door, where he had watched Kurt leave with concern. He couldn’t figure out why he had reacted like that. Maybe he had a family member who had struggled with some sort of eating problem? That really could be the only thing. Regardless, he replied with a soft smile, letting a weak chuckle slip through his lips.

“No, Jeff, I didn’t know he could be that scary.”

___________________________________________________________

As Kurt stormed away from the café, his vision blurred, black spots dancing around the edges. He had learned to ignore it by now, but it made getting from place to place quite the struggle. He eventually ducked into a classroom, leaning against the wall to calm himself down and throw away the coffee cup, which had long since been crushed in his fist. He shut his eyes, running a shaky hand through his hair as he tried to figure out how on earth he could reassure his friends that he was not anorexic, and that he just didn’t find the joke funny. Surely that was a good enough excuse, right? He had assumed that standing still would make him feel a bit better, but he somehow only felt worse. He realized that he probably had to eat something, and sighed yet again. His stomach turned- or jumped for joy, he couldn’t tell anymore.

Kurt made his way to the dining hall, trying to hide the resigned expression making its way across his face. There weren’t many people there, but it was enough to make him feel quite self conscious. He scanned the options and felt sick to his stomach. Even the vegetables were drenched in oil; greasy, calorific oil. He eventually settled on a piece of plain toast. He looked at the packaging as discreetly as he could, though he already knew what it said. One slice was seventy-three calories, not quite a multiple of ten, so he grabbed a few leaves of raw spinach from the salad bar to even it out.

Kurt grabbed a fork and knife and made his way to a table alone. He chugged a glass of water as he sat down, just like he had practiced. He grabbed the spinach, one leaf at a time, eating each piece in three bites and setting it down in between. He fought back the tears in his eyes as he counted each bite, onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightninetenonetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten. He eventually finished the spinach and moved on to the toast, trying to think of how exactly to eat it. Of course, he knew how he would eat it, but pretending to think about it gave him a moment before he actually had to put it into his mouth. He carefully cut off the crusts and set them on the table next to his plate. Now they were contaminated and he couldn’t eat them. He started cutting the toast. He cut it in half, then in fourths, then in eighths, and eventually, he had it cut into twenty-eight pieces. He counted them carefully before quickly cutting one of the pieces in half again to make it an even thirty- a multiple of both three and ten. He breathed a sigh of relief before picking up his fork and putting a piece into his mouth. Onetwothreefour-

“Hummel, what in the hell are you doing?”

Shit. Before Kurt even registered what he was doing, he quickly grabbed his napkin and spat the piece of toast into it as discreetly as possible, looking up to see none other than Sebastian Smythe. He practically groaned, rolling his eyes. “Eating, what the hell does it look like?”

“Well, I don’t know what it looks like, but it doesn’t look like eating. May I sit?” He gestured to the chair across from Kurt, who shook his head.

“No you may not,” he quipped, feeling his anger rise. He took a few deep breaths. “I was trying to eat my toast, and I would like to continue doing that, so if you wouldn’t mind leaving, that would be wonderful,” he said, as calmly as he possibly could.

Sebastian shrugged. “Fine, if you’re going to be such an ass, I suppose I will.” He grabbed one of the miniscule bites of toast off of Kurt’s plate, whose eyes widened.

“Hey, what the hell?! Put that back!” He said, trying to fight his rising tone of voice as tears sprung to his eyes. Sebastian looked rather confused.

“It’s just one bite, what difference does it make?” Kurt’s mind was racing. (Seventy-three divided by thirty is two point four thirty minus one is twenty nine two point four times twenty nine is seventy,) he calmed for a second before realizing, alarm bells going off in his mind, thecrustthecrustthecrust-

“Sebastian, please put it back, please. ” He pleaded with the other boy, not caring about how absolutely insane he must seem. Sebastian, not seeming to realize how serious Kurt was about this, popped it into his mouth. The second that Kurt saw this, he immediately burst into tears, much to the alarm of Sebastian.

“Woah, what the hell- I can get you more toast!” the wide-eyed Sebastian backtracked quickly. Kurt stood up immediately, grabbing his plate, shoveling the remaining bites of toast (twenty-seven) into the trash, and practically throwing the plate into the dirty dish bin. He couldn’t breathe, this was all wrong! He walked as quickly as he could out of the dining hall and into the nearest empty classroom, grateful for the fact that it was a weekend.

Sebastian was dumbfounded. After recovering from the moment, he quickly followed the boy out and eventually found him hyperventilating in a classroom. He debated on going in or not. He hated the kid, but he wasn’t cruel, and he definitely didn’t mean to cause that kind of reaction. After a few moments of intense thought, he went in, kneeling down in front of him.

“Geez, Hummel, I didn’t realize toast was that important to you,” he said weakly. Evidently, this was the wrong thing to say, as Kurt burst into another round of tears. “Wait, no- um-” he sighed, “god, what do you need? Should I bring you some water? I can get Anderson if you want,” he offered, not used to being this nice to someone that he couldn’t stand. At the mention of Blaine, Kurt looked up with wide eyes, shaking his head quickly. He opened his mouth, attempting to say something, but unable to get it out. It quickly dawned on Sebastian that this was a panic attack. This, he could deal with.

“Alright, Hum-” He paused, “Kurt, I need you to look at me, alright? Look straight at me and match my breathing. That’s right,” he said as gently as he could, taking slow deep breaths while making eye contact with the boy. Sebastian offered a weak smile after he had eventually calmed Kurt down, which had taken way longer than he anticipated.

“Alright, now do you want to tell me what that was about?”

#glee fanfiction #kurtbastian #kurt hummel #disordered eating #eating disorders #trigger warning #glee angst #vent fic #ao3 fanfic #not blaine or klaine friendly #anti blaine anderson #lol blaine

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pixie-mage · 4 years

Note

I don't know if i was supposed to send two characters for the same writing prompt but i'll try this since Rexy needs some love. 9 -L !

From this NatM Writing Prompt: [ x ]

(Either way works! We all love our Puppy-saurus Rex! ^^)

Characters: Rexy Adjectives: Lonely

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

From near his usual perch in the lobby, the skeleton of a tyrannosaurus rex watched from empty sockets as the museum’s night guard came tearing out of an archway on the right, being quickly pursued by a younger teen.

“You got the keys, right Nick?” the guard asked.

“Of course I did,” the teenager replied, rolling his eyes. “The only person Dexter plays ‘keep away’ with is you, Dad.”

“A simple ‘yes’ would have been fine, Nicky.”

The guard - Larry Daley - came skidding to a stop in front of the circular desk at the lobby’s center, slipping behind it and digging through a bag he had stowed there. He pulled out a single hockey glove and a goalie blocker, shaking his head in irritation as he did so.

“I thought the Mayans were past this,” he muttered. “They were behaving so well this week. And then this–”

Rexy approached Larry and Nick with his tail wagging, his bone already held tight in his teeth. He made a little whining noise in the back of his throat and bent down, looking to all the world like he wanted to play. He dropped the bone at Nick’s feet.

“Not now, Rexy,” Larry said, sounding distracted. He barely spared Rexy half a glance as he tugged on the glove, then tossed the bag to his son Nick.

There was a whirring as a small remote-controlled car sped into view from an archway on the left, through which sat the Hall of Miniatures.

“Get gaited, Laredo!” a small southern voice piped up from inside the car. “We’ve got a hell of a hootenanny goin’ on between the two halves of the hall. Them Mayans ‘re fightin’ like kilkenny cats. We had about twenty men downed by poisoned dart last I checked.”

“Tweny-four, to be exact,” a second voice spoke up, a miniature Roman General. “My men are diligent and our shields may be strong but the Mayans are an unpredictable adversary. Much like the Americans when we first were at war.”

There was a fondness in the last phrase. Not that Rexy noticed or cared, but it was there all the same.

“Now don’t you get sappy on me, ‘Tavius,” the cowboy scolded. “Keep yer head on straight. We’ve gotta get them Mayan boys under control ‘fore all hell breaks loose.”

“It already has, Jedediah,” Octavius said. There was a muffled thump from inside the car, followed by an “Ow!” from the centurion.

“Guys!”

The two miniatures stopped bickering, staring up through the tiny windshield of the car to meet Larry’s disbelieving eyes.

“Seriously?! Mayans. Bigger problem.”

“Of course, my liege.”

“You got it Gigantor.”

“Alright.” Larry nodded. “Nick and I will try and get as many of them back into Guatemala as we can. You two just - get your people to try and push them back.”

“Am I locking them up or are you?” Nick asked, already wearing a hockey glove and a blocker like his father.

“Uh��” Larry thought for a moment. “You. Better you than me, in case Dexter decides to show up for a round two.”

Nick giggled.

The remote-controlled car whirred back into motion, and the familiar noise made Rexy’s head perk up. Oh! He knew this game! He picked up his bone again and brought it over to the tiny car, tail wagging all the while. Play? Chase?

“No can do, Rexasaurus,” Jed shook his head. “We’ve got a group o’ crazy tribesmen to wrangle.”

Rexy whimpered, head tilting to the side.

“Not now, Rexy,” Larry reaffirmed, this time looking Rexy right in the eye sockets. “Later. Okay? We’re kind of busy right now.”

Rexy whined, but the group was clearly focussed on a much more important task. Larry and Nick took off into the Hall of Miniatures with the miniature car speeding after them as quickly as it could go.

The lobby fell silent.

Rexy’s tail drooped against the ground.

The dinosaur whimpered into the empty room, nobody around to hear his lonely plea. He just wanted to play. Lately, things in the museum had been so busy that Larry was always being pulled to every corner of the building...and Nick often spent more time with the huns or Ahkmenrah than he did anywhere else. Plus Jedediah and Octavius were most often seen together rather than apart, and though this used to mean they’d be happy to spend some time driving around the museum dragging a bone while their local Tyrannosaurus chased after them, it had become rather difficult to find them as of late. It had become rather difficult to find anyone to play with as of late.

And as for the rest of the museum...well. Rexy whimpered again and put his rib back where it belonged, circling the spot he stood a few times and settling onto the ground. He tucked in his tail and let out a deep sigh.

Many of the other museum occupants were still too afraid to get close to him.

With that sad little thought, Rexy found himself dozing off into a light sleep in the center of the museum lobby, completely oblivious to the smiling faces that were watching him from a distance.

“He is asleep, I think.”

“So he is. This may be easier than we first thought, my dear.”

Creeping down the stairs on soft feet, Sacagawea motioned for Teddy to stay quiet and stay where he was. She approached the snoozing dinosaur and smiled adoringly once she was close enough to see that he was, indeed, fully asleep. She nodded up toward the balcony above where Teddy stood waiting. The former president was quick to join her in the lobby.

“I will go find the others,” Sacagawea informed him. “Could you seek out Larry and Nick? The Mayans were not part of the plan tonight, but I imagine they will be finished soon.”

“Of course my dear.”

Teddy took her hand, pressed a kiss to her fingers, and swiftly followed the path their night guard had taken a few minutes prior. Sacagawea smiled softly to herself. If given the choice, she would gladly indulge herself in spending more time with her love rather than send him off on a mission...but today was significant. She had a more important task to handle. With one last glance toward the sleeping tyrannosaurus, she vanished back up the stairs and down the hall.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rexy awoke slowly an hour or so later. His tail quivered as he stretched, huffing a breath out his nose and yawning widely, his massive teeth bared for all to see. He thought, for a moment, he might still be sleeping...because the lobby was terribly dark. It was difficult to see, and as the dino got back to his feet, he was careful not to move too much lest he trip in the dark...or worse, accidentally step on a friend. What was going on? Where was everyone? Why were the lights off? Rexy made a rumbling, questioning noise in the back of his throat, confused and curious.

“Ready?” a quiet, familiar voice whispered from somewhere to Rexy’s left. He turned his head, trying to find its owner. “Okay...3...2...1…”

“SURPRISE!”

Lights flared to life throughout the museum, the sound of switches being flipped completely drowned out by the sea of joyous voices that had filled the air. Rexy took a step back, surprised and startled, trying to understand what he was seeing.

Everyone was here. Everyone. Larry and Nick stood by the front desk, Larry with one hand still lingering near the light switches. A sea of miniatures covered the desk’s surface. The huns were grouped off to one side near the eskimos, the cavemen were all making excited noises somewhere near the back of the crowd, and vikings, statues, civil war soldiers, and more were mixed among the rest of the museum’s inhabitants. A select few animals had been let loose to join them, Dexter among them, and Sacagawea and Teddy were standing side by side near the front of the crowd. Ahkmenrah was leaning back against the desk, and when things began to settle, he murmured something in an undertone to Larry behind him.

Larry nodded. He abandoned the desk and made his way through the crowd, a paper bag in his hand, a beaming grin splitting his face.

“Happy Birthday, Rexy!” he announced, drawing another round of excited cheering from the gathered crowd. Larry’s expression was bright and warm and excited, and when he finally reached Rexy he held up a hand to pet the dinosaur’s nose. Rexy leaned into it, more than a little happy to be on the receiving end of the night guard’s affections after so long of going without it.

Not that a few weeks was that long in the grand scheme of things, but it certainly felt like ages to the puppy-like tyrannosaurus. A rumbling noise started up in the back of his nonexistent throat and he leaned down to nuzzle his skull against Larry’s chest, his tail wagging happily behind him.

“I know we don’t know your real birthday,” Larry went on, scratching along Rexy’s jaw, “but I figured the day you arrived at the museum was as close as we were gonna get. One hundred years ago today. Can you believe that?”

Rexy leaned into the scratches, making happy little noises all the while, and Larry chuckled to himself.

“Ya like that big guy?” he smiled. “Heh. Hang on, I’ve got a present for you.”

Present? Present! Rexy sniffed at the bag in Larry’s hand when the guard held it up, eager to see what was inside. Present. For him? Really?

“Yeah buddy! That’s for you!” Larry said. Rexy nipped at the bag and Larry pulled it out of his reach, chuckling. “Hang on! Hang on, Rexy. Let me get it out first!”

Larry reached into the bag and pulled out what looked like the biggest dog bone in the world. It would be huge for most dogs, but for Rexy? It was perfect. The dinosaur crouched where he stood, in full play mode, his tag wagging wildly behind him. The onlookers grinned and giggled and laughed at his antics. Larry glanced back over his shoulder at them, his eyes sparkling. He returned his focus to the overeager puppy-saur in front of him.

“I know, you’re excited,” he nodded, holding up the bone with some effort. “But here’s the thing. I can give this to you now–”

Rexy made little rumbling noises at the prospect, dancing a little on the spot.

“–or! Hang on, buddy.” Larry stifled another laugh. “Or we can see what everybody else got you. Okay? There’s more presents from everyone, not just this one.”

Rexy looked torn. Play with bone, or get more toys. Bone. More toys. Bone now. Bone later? Toys now...toys later…

It was a very difficult decision.

Until the remote-controlled car came speeding into view.

“Hey! Rexy!”

Jed was practically hanging out the window of the car, waving his hat to get the dinosaur’s attention.

“Hey there big fella!” he called, grinning ear to ear. “Guess what we’ve got!”

The car raced past, driving straight between the dino and the night guard, and it was only then that Rexy’s attention was caught by the colorful toy being dragged by the car. It wasn’t as big as the bone Larry had gotten him, nor was it even a bone at all, but it was eye-catching and made jingling noises as it was dragged along, the colorful ball rolling and bouncing slightly in the wake of the car it was attached to.

Rexy was off and on the chase before Larry knew it, and he - along with the others at the very front of the crowd - had to duck to avoid the swing of the dinosaur’s tail.

Larry grinned.

“Rexy looks exceedingly happy, Larry,” a warm voice appeared at Larry’s side. “I think this party is already a raging success and it has barely begun.”

“He does look happy,” Larry agreed. He turned to smile at Ahkmenrah, who had come to stand beside him and watch the oversized puppy play chase through the lobby and front halls of the museum. “Thanks for the idea.”

“You would have thought of it yourself eventually,” Ahk inclined his head toward the ‘guardian’, smiling all the while. “You are rather creative yourself, and you care greatly for everyone here. It would have crossed your mind at some point I’m sure.”

“Still,” Larry shrugged, pocketing his hands and turning back toward Rexy. “He’s been so down lately. Thanks for the help.”

“You are more than welcome.”

“Dad! Dad! Dad!” Nick came up behind Larry, tugging on his arm. “Can I get Rexy’s new ball out? I think the car needs to recharge soon and–”

“You don’t need to give me a reason.” Larry shook his head with a smile and pointed toward the desk. “It should be back there with the other gifts. Just - try not to let Rexy pop it on the first night. If we can get it to last a week at least I’ll be happy.”

“Sure!”

Then Nick was gone, digging through the gifts with abandon. Somewhere in the distance, a whoop and a holler rang through the air alongside a shout of “ONWARD!” as a tiny car drove whiplashing circles around the giant dinosaur looming overhead.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The night had gone about as well as Larry and Nick had hoped. The ball Nick had sought out earlier was, surprisingly, still in one piece. The exhibits had had a fun time playing some form of “keep away” with Rexy, the ball bouncing and soaring back and forth over the crowd while Rexy tried to snatch it out of the air. Attila and his men had played tug-of-war with the dino at some point, the sturdy rope they had been using now shredded and sitting in a pile on the desk. Nick and Ahk had taken a few turns riding on the dinosaur’s back, much to the enjoyment of all involved. An oversized plush toy sat in Larry’s lap (courtesy of Sacagawea and the civil war soldiers) looking a little chewed on, but mostly still in one piece. He was leaning back against the wall at the back of the lobby, past the stairs, and Rexy was curled up nearby. He was gnawing happily on the bone from the beginning of the evening.

There was about an hour left until dawn, and some of the exhibits had already begun making their way back toward their displays. Teddy and Sacagawea were organizing a small group to help clean up the remnants of the party...and Larry would join them soon too. But first…

Larry reached over, rubbing his knuckles against Rexy’s nose. The dino leaned into the affection, a happy rumble bubbling up from somewhere near his chest.

“Did you have a fun birthday, buddy?” Larry asked. Rexy’s tail thumped loudly against the floor a few times, and Larry smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The guard sighed softly. His smile faded.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been paying attention to you,” he said quietly. “I could just say that it’s because the museum has been more...lively than usual lately, but that’s no excuse to make you sad.” Rexy lifted his head, tilting it in question. “I know you’ve been kind of lonely lately, and I’m sorry. Some of the other exhibits noticed and told me about it. I’m sorry that I didn’t see it myself. Nobody should ever feel forgotten, alright? That’s - ya know. That’s Friendship 101, and I’ve been kind of a bad friend. Haven’t I?”

Rexy whined softly and nuzzled Larry’s head as gently as he could. The night guard smiled weakly and held up a hand to pat the end of the puppy-saur’s nose.

“It’s nice of you to forgive me, but...still.” Larry was quiet for a moment. Then– “I know I can’t always have time to play with you, same with Nick. I have a job to do and he’s my backup when things get hairy. But I’m gonna try to be better. And…”

He looked thoughtful, as if trying to decide if he should say anything or not.

“...and I know we keep other dinosaurs locked away in the B-wing. I’ll talk to McPhee and see if we can’t get you a friend on display out here, so you have someone to play with. Okay?”

Rexy panted happily and his tail whipped back and forth along the floor, thwacking the walls on either side in his exuberance.

“Okay, okay!” Larry laughed. “Calm down, buddy. I said I’d talk to McPhee, but it’s up to him. No promises! But I’ll try. Alright?”

Rexy bumped his nose against Larry’s shoulder, then flopped his head down right up against the night guard’s crossed legs.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

When the sun rose later that early morning, and when the first few guests began to filter in through the museum’s front doors, McPhee swore the sharp-toothed smile the tyrannosaurus wore was wider than it had ever been before. But surely it was a trick of the morning light...right?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[A/N: This was a lot of fun to write! I haven’t written much in the NatM fandom yet, so this was a really fun practice...and we all know Rexy deserves all the love. Hope you enjoyed it!]

#Night at the Museum #NatM #NatM Writing Prompt #Night at the Museum Writing Prompt #Rexy #Larry Daley #Nick Daley #Ahkmenrah #Octavius #Jedediah #Jedtavius if you squint #Tablet Guardians if you squint #Sacagawea #Teddy Roosevelt #Pixiemage Writes #Writing #This was fun #Pixiemage Answers

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ask-paradoxus-rex · 5 years

Note

▼ benny and gcbc >;3

PG-16+ under that cut so be careful! It’s not NSFW, but it’s still gonna be under the Read More for precautionary sake. And it’s really long.

When Good Cop drags his hands up his sides with feather light touches, Rex nearly collapses, but Benny is there to catch him as his knees threaten to buckle. He’s essentially squished between the two of them, Good Cops chest right against his back with his hands on his hips and Bennys chest-to-chest with him with hands placed just above his ass. They both press against him and Rex can’t decide who he wants to look at, his eyes flickering rapidly between the two of them.

“I-I, um, I-” Rex swallows, his voice dying in his throat as he tries to figure out what to do with his hands. “Uh…”

Good Cop chuckles and Rex somehow blushes harder. “Don’t worry, buddy. We aren’t gonna hurt ya.”

“Yeah, man, relax!” Rex actually squeaks when Benny pulls him closer by his hips, rising up on his toes to whisper in his ear. “We’ve got’cha, Rexy~”

Rex feels like he’s catching fire from the head down. Good Cop steps forward and closes the small bit of space Benny made between them, readjusting his grip on Rexs hips so he’s just barely touching and knowingly driving him crazy. He leans down and rests his chin on Rexs shoulder, his lips dangerously close to his neck as he purposely sighs, smiling when Rex shudders just a little. He suppresses a noise, probably a whine from how hard he clears his throat after, which only makes both Good and Benny titter.

“Why don’t we sit down, hm?” Good Cop punctuates his sentence with a kiss to Rexs neck, not missing how he traps a groan behind his teeth.

“Great idea, since somebody’s knees are a little weak.”

Rex manages to set aside his embarrassment long enough to pout angrily at Benny, who just giggles in response. Good Cop swaps glasses for the shades hanging on his pocket, leaving Rex to deal with Bad Cop suddenly gripping his hips tighter and keeping him pressed against him as he starts to move. They walk backwards with Benny following before Bad Cop falls back onto the couch, taking Rex down right with him.

“W-Wait.” Bad Cop halts, peering at him from over his shades in a way that makes Rex nearly forget what he wants to say. “Shouldn’t I be turned the other way?”

“But then where would I sit?”

Benny lights down on Rexs lap as he says this, looping his arms around his neck and resting his knees on the couch on either side of Bad Cop thighs. Rex swallows his tongue as he hesitantly puts his hands on Bennys waist, noting how the astronaut weighed basically nothing in his grasp.

At this point, Rex has no idea what to focus on. The feeling of Bad Cops thumbs rubbing small circles into his waist, Bennys cute yet mischievous smile, Bad Cops breath on his neck, Bennys fingers tangling themselves in the tufts of hair on the back of his head. They’re both too much, yet not enough at the same time. He’s panting a bit as his grip on Benny tightens, making the astronaut let out a little “Oh!” in surprise.

“Hey, Ben.” Rexs voice wavers just a little with nervousness. “Can I kiss you?”

“Rex, come on, you don’t hafta ask.”

Rex nods shakily, his tongue swiping over his lips before he leans forward and catches Bennys with his. Benny takes over in an instant, pushing Rex back against Bad Cop as he does so. Rex can’t help but groan when he hears Bad Cops rumbling chuckle right next to his ear, low and deep as his hips twitch upward against him.

“Well, that ain’t fair,” Bad grumbles under his breath, electing instead to kiss Rexs neck if he couldn’t have actual kisses.

“Hey, Rex?” Benny asks, pulling back and leaving the poor time traveler red faced and chasing after him.

“Y-Yeah…?”

Rexs breath hitches when Benny suddenly slides forward, not only pushing their laps together but pushing his ass down against Bads crotch as well. Bad grunts through his teeth as he presses his forehead against Rexs shoulder, both of them slowly coming undone.

“Did you leave one of your raptors tennis balls in your pocket or are you just happy to see me~?”

#rex dangervest #gcbc #benny blue #the lego movie #the lego movie 2 #the lego movie 2: the second part #asks #rexcop #bennex #suggestive #VERY suggestive #Anonymous #the mun writes

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