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pigdemonart · 1 year

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Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)

When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]

These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.

More info under cut:

Edit: Important disclaimer:

These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍

Tags:

I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.

Height chart:

I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:

Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)

Notes about each agent...

Cameron:

- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices. - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too. - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.

Cloud:

- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling. - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace. - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together! - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.

Furze:

- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.

Isadore

- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao

Jackie

- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...

- Item #: SCP 7453

- Object Class: Euclid

- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.

Ramses

- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.

In-Game Quotes

The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.

In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.

Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!

#depot agents #depot agents master post #my art #submas #submas adjacent ahaha #will probably edit as time goes on but who knows really #if you spot any typos no you dont kiss kiss #cameron #cloud #furze #isadore #jackie #ramses

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flightlessangelwings · 1 year

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Stripping Away Our Armor

Din Djarin x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 5.6k

Prompt/Summary- “Who did this to you?” / You are an informant for the Mandalorian, and secret, unspoken feelings start to blossom between you. But how does he react when he comes by one night and you’re hurt?

Warnings- smut (18+ only!), sex worker reader (we respect sex workers in this house), oral (m receiving), soft romantic sex, praise kink, mutual pining, kind of forbidden romance, hurt/comfort, protective!Din, Din likes cheesy jokes, allusion to violence (nothing excessive), injured reader (nothing super descriptive), minor character death, slight grumpy/sunshine vibes

Notes- Surprise @misspearly1 I’m your Pedro gift exchange writer!!! 💖 I’ve had fun being a sneaky anon and writing this for you!!! I’m sorry this is a little late but I hope you enjoy this!! And thank you @pedrostories for organizing this event!!!

Reblogs/asks/follows are highly appreciated! 💖

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

Graphic made by me (I love the Star Wars vibe of this so much!!)

Colorful lights flickered to the beat of the dance music in the club as the Mandalorian walked through the crowd. All types of characters surrounded him: from the young and eager to see the spectacular around them to those who tried to blend in while on the run. Men crowded around the small tables and threw credits and sleazy looks at the dancers. Women with barely anything on their bodies sauntered by carrying trays of drinks. Some gave him a flirty glance, but most recognized him and left him alone.

There was only ever one person who he saw at the club.

“She’s not here right now, Mando,” one of the other girls, Sonya, set her tray down at the bar and addressed him as he approached. She gave him a subtle flirty glance before she flagged the bartender and gave him a drink order for her table.

“What happened?” he replied, his voice masking the concern that laid below.

Sonya shrugged, “I think she’s on a personal visit to a vip client. You’re welcome to wait for her,” she gathered fresh glasses and filled them as she spoke, “I’ll let her know you’re here when she gets back. But it might be late,” she eyed the Mandalorian up and down and her done dropped as she smirked, “I can always keep you company in the meantime,” she traced her finger along the beskar on his arm. She knew that the Mandalorian only ever asked for you, yet she couldn’t help but grasp the opportunity while she had it.

Mando gently moved his arm away from her reach, “I’ll wait for her,” he stated plainly yet without malice.

Her expression dropped as she let out a heavy exhale, “Suit yourself.” Sonya knew it was a long shot, yet she wasn’t immune to the beskar-clad man’s effortless charm. But she took his rejection with dignity as she turned and walked away.

The Mandalorian turned to face the crowd and leaned against the bar. Keeping on high alert at all times, he scanned the crowd and studied the faces he saw. There were some he knew he recognized from bounty pucks, but they weren’t his concern at the moment. He had a higher paying target he was after, and he needed your help to find him.

This arrangement started many months ago when Mando first came into the club to look for a target. Most everyone else who was there at the time was too scared or too intimidated by him. Except for you. You took him into the back and gave him all the information he needed… and then you gave him a taste of your services.

From then, he was drawn back to you time and time again. Mando refused to admit he was addicted to you. But there were times that he looked more forward to the time he spent with you than the information you provided. And once you were behind closed doors, the facade of the toughness you kept up melted away to reveal a kind, good person. And that only made Mando more mesmerized by you.

It was something he understood fully: keep your emotions out of your line of work. He did the same. Yet, when the two of you were alone together, the Mandalorian felt like you were the only person in the galaxy that really saw the true him. And the way your tough exterior faded away as your face relaxed and your smile lit up the room told him that you trusted him too. You were even the one person to actually make him laugh too, and it felt so good to Mando to let his guard down.

As he stood at the bar and waited for you, Mando couldn’t help but drift back to the day the two of you met…

“I’m looking for someone,” the Mandalorian asked the bartender as he set the bounty puck down, “He been by here?”

The bartender just huffed and turned to serve others at the far end of the bar without even glancing at the holo image.

Mando let out a heavy sigh as he turned around and faced the crowd. Most danced to the pulsing music and didn’t even give him a second glance. Some scurried out of his way, but he paid them no mind.

The target had to be here somewhere…

“Need something, Mandalorian?” a sultry voice called his attention, “Perhaps I can… be of service…” your tone dropped as you bat your eyes flirtatiously and shimmied your shoulder subtly.

Mando looked you up and down and his posture stiffened; you were captivating. Even as a hardened bounty hunter, Mando couldn’t help but notice the way your tiny outfit sparkled right at your breasts to draw men’s eyes. His fists tightened as he fought to keep his composure, “This man… Supposed to be a regular here…”

Just as Mando was about to activate the holo image, you covered it, “Not out here,” your eyes narrowed as you leaned in, “Follow me…”

The Mandalorian wasn’t sure why but he felt a pull as you slid your hand in his gloved one and took him back to one of the private rooms. And that’s when it happened: the hardened exterior faded away the moment the door was closed and the sultry expression morphed into a genuinely bright smile.

“Man it smells like upbabe in here…” you sighed in exasperation once you and the Mandalorian were alone.

He stood silent, the slight tilt of his helmet was the only movement as you felt his gaze heavy on you.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “You’re supposed to say ‘what’s upbabe’ and then I say ‘not much what’s up with you!’”

The Mandalorian was caught off guard by your joke once our tough exterior melted away. He stared at you for several moments before he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh- the first time he did that in a very long time…

“Mando…?”

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he was brought back to the present where you stood before him. You looked as radiant as ever, and Mando couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over him at seeing you were alright.

“Hey,” he replied.

“Here for the usual?” you asked coyly. When he nodded in response, you slid your hand in his gloved one and your tone dropped seductively, “Follow me.”

He welcomed that familiar touch… that familiar routine.

Once the two of you were alone in one of the private rooms, you placed a hand on Mando’s chest and gently guided him backwards. His visor never left you as he allowed you to lead him: something he didn’t let anyone else do. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something different about you. The Mandalorian didn’t trust easily, but he trusted you.

All the breath left his body as Mando landed on the chair behind him. But he wasn’t sure if it was the landing that knocked the breath out of his chest or if it was the way you looked at him with a fire behind your eyes. Mando’s knees instantly parted to allow you to settle in between his legs, and neither of you broke eye contact as you slowly dropped to your knees on the floor before him.

Mando breathed your name as he reached out and cupped your chin. Your hands landed on his inner thighs just above the plates of beskar on his legs and you gave his flesh a firm squeeze. But just as Mando tried to reach for you and touch you more, eager to make you feel as good as you always made him feel, you stopped him.

“Let me, Mando,” you whispered as you ran your hands along his thighs and fiddled with the seam at the center of his pants, “I want to take care of you today.”

He couldn’t help but groan as his cock hardened at the thought of what you had planned. Mando watched as you freed his cock from the confines of his pants, and his hands balled into fists when you licked your lips involuntarily. You glanced up at him for a moment before you settled yourself and wrapped your hand around his length.

You worked slowly at first, raising and lowering your hand along Mando’s cock. You watched with eagerness as he hardened more and more with his pump of your fist until he was fully erect before you. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you shifted your position to rub your thighs together for some friction that you suddenly desperately needed.

Before Mando could address your action, though, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, your tongue lapping at the sensitive head as you did so. He growled as his hands landed on your shoulders as you lowered your head down his shaft, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could.

“Fuck,” Mando hissed as the warmth of your mouth engulfed him, “So good mesh’la…” the praise dripped from his lips in a low tone before he could help it.

You hummed around his cock as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him off as hard as you could, knowing exactly what he liked. Raising your head back up, you popped off his cock to instead lick at the salty sweet skin there. You nibbled gently at the head before you ran your tongue flat down the shaft.

Mando groaned your name as you made your way back up his length, your tongue hitting every vein and sensitive spot along the way. Before you took him into your mouth again, you paused and looked up at him and Mando swore the universe froze for a moment. You looked so tantalizing as you looked at him with a desperate fire in your eyes, a trail of spit still connected the two of you.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he sighed heavily.

Without replying, you took Mando’s cock into your mouth again and swallowed as much of it as you could. This time, you had a specific intention in mind, and you weren’t going to stop until you got what you wanted. Mando growled as your warmth became his whole world once more as you bobbed up and down on his cock.

“Fuck… Cyar’ika… I’m…” was all he managed to get out between a string of curses in Mando’a before he exploded in your mouth.

You never let up, even as Mando’s cum filled your throat. You kept going, working and sucking his cock as he came hard into your mouth. And you greedily lapped up and swallowed every last drop, not wanting even one bit to go to waste. You kept going until Mando grabbed onto your scalp and pulled you off of him when he was completely spent.

The two of you stayed in a heavy silence for several moments. Both of you just panted as you both caught your breath, and even though you didn’t see his face, you felt the intensity of his gaze behind the helmet. It sent a fresh wave of need through you and you couldn’t help but moan as you suddenly became aware of how tightly he held you.

In a rush, Mando pounced off the chair and crashed your bodies to the floor. Normally, he preferred to fuck you in a bed, or at least a table, but there was something about you today that filled him with need. He couldn’t wait. He had to feel you, hold you… taste you…

“I need you, sweetheart,” Mando growled as he covered your body with his own and his hands roamed all over you.

All the air was suddenly forced out of your chest as you hit the floor hard. Too wrapped up in the euphoria of having the Mandalorian on top of you, his hands roaming all over your figure, you almost forgot about why you didn’t allow him to touch you for a moment. But you were painfully reminded when his large hand grabbed your waist and pulled you close against him.

You cried out in pain and all the ecstasy of Mando’s touch completely vanished.

Right away, Mando pulled off of you and sat up on his knees, “What is it?” he asked in concern as his hand hovered over you, “What’s wrong?”

You were not going to shed tears in front of him. You were determined not to show any sign of pain or vulnerability. But the pain in your side screamed at you until you could barely hear anything else. It wasn’t until Mando said your name again that you opened your eyes and looked at him. And even though you didn’t see an inch of skin on him, you could tell he was concerned just from the way he held himself in front of you, his chest puffed up and his shoulders tense.

“It’s…” you let out a deep breath as you steadied yourself, “It’s nothing,” you tried your best to hide your pain as you scooted away from him slightly, “I’m alright. Just hit the ground a little too hard…”

“It’s not nothing,” Mando’s tone turned serious as he inched forward to stay in your proximity, “Let me see.”

“N-no…” you tried to protest.

“Cyare…” His tone was soft yet it left no room for argument, and the Mandalorian moved too fast for you to block anyway. That came as no surprise, considering he was the best bounty hunter in the galaxy. What did surprise you, however, was the tenderness and care in his touch as he held your sides and carefully lifted your shirt up.

Mando couldn’t stop the low growl that escaped his lips when he saw the wound on your side. It was fresh, but not bleeding. And a scan with his helmet told him that it wasn’t deep, which provided some relief. He sighed as he looked up at your face and he internally kicked himself for not noticing the slight swelling just below your eye before now.

“What happened?” Mando couldn’t help the anger in his voice, though it wasn’t directed at you, “Who did this to you?” he tenderly cupped your face with both hands. When you stayed silent as you looked into his visor with sad eyes, he added softly, “Tell me.”

You let out a heavy breath as you caved, “Shaun…” your voice was hushed as your gaze dropped to the ground, “Shaun Deggs.” All the light that Mando admired in your eyes was gone, and the normally bright smile that drew him back time and time again was clouded over with the tears that you fought back.

Mando knew the name: it was the target he came to ask you about. His blood boiled as he thought about all the ways he would make him pay for hurting you. You, who was his one light in a dark world. You who was the only person he looked forward to seeing. You, who Mando… cared a lot for.

He let out a low growl as his grip tensed.

Feeling the intensity of his emotions, you filled the tense silence, “He’s been a regular at the club for some time… deep pockets. He gets himself into trouble with gambling though,” you rambled, “I don’t know how, but somehow he found out I was working with you…” you sighed wearily, “He didn’t like that…” your voice trailed off as you let the Mandalorian piece together what happened.

Mando never felt a rage like this before; he never felt the need to protect someone so greatly like this. At that moment, it didn’t matter that Shaun was worth more alive than dead. He was going to pay for what he did to you with his life. He was going to pay for taking away the light in your eyes.

“Where can I find him?”

“No, no, no… P-please…” Shaun begged as he crawled on the floor. Bruises erupted all over his skin as cuts bled and he was sure he had at least three broken bones.

Hovering over him was the imitating figure of the Mandalorian. Blade in hand, he leaned over and smacked him across the face once more as he grumbled lowly. Never before had the Mandalorian felt a rage like this, and with every smack to this low life, he saw your face flash before him. Mando wondered if you looked like this when Shaun paid you a visit, if you were this scared. And he wasn’t there to protect you…

“Tell Gar I promise I’ll pay him back,” Shaun’s voice cracked as his body weakened, “Just don’t kill me please… I’m worth more alive, Mando.”

“I don’t care,” Mando growled, “You hurt someone… Important to me,” he spoke your name, “You remember her?”

Shaun bit his lip and nodded as he whimpered, “I-I’m sorry… I won’t go near her ever again. I swear!”

“I know you won’t…”

The scream Shaun let out echoed in the room.

You let out a heavy sigh as you ran your hands across your face. It was late into the night, and Mando made you promise to stay at your place until he got back after he walked you home and bandaged your injuries. He barely spoke while he carefully set the bacta patches on the gashes in your skin, but you felt the tension there without the words needed. Even through the layers of amor, you felt his anger radiate and you saw the tension in his arms and shoulders. You had never seen him like this before, and it made your mind spin.

Ever since you first laid eyes on the Mandalorian, there was something that drew you to him. Instead of being scared of him, you felt safe in his presence, and he was the one person you felt like you could let your guard down around. The routine came easily for the two of you: he would come by the club for information on a target, and you would take him to a back room and give him what he needed… and then some. Fully expecting him to be rough with you, it came as a pleasant surprise when Mando was so tender with his touches and he handled you so gently.

Feelings weren’t a luxury you could afford in this life, though. And you knew being a Mandalorian, he couldn’t let himself get too close either. So you kept your true feelings buried deep down, and you were grateful for the time you got with him. It caught you completely off guard though when Mando went into a rage once he saw you were hurt.

“That has to mean something, right?” you whispered to yourself as you clutched the small vibroblade Mando handed you, not wanting to leave you unarmed. There were two things you knew about the Mandalorian and his culture: the helmet never came off, and weapons were as important as air.

You bit your lip and held the weapon close to yourself as you heard his words to you in your head: “Stay here. Keep this close. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

But you were jolted from your thoughts by a knock at your door. A specific, rhythmic knock. Your face lit up as you set the blade down on the table and jumped for the door. When you opened it, the familiar figure of the Mandalorian greeted you on the other side and your shoulders dropped with a heavy exhale of relief.

“Mando…” you breathed.

He cupped your face as his heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of your smile, “You’re safe now.”

Glancing down, you noticed a small splash of blood on his beskar. Your eyes went wide as you realized what his words meant, and the way he held your face confirmed your suspicions. You grabbed onto the fabric around his armor and dragged him inside without another word. Emotions ran high as he locked the door behind him and gladly followed your lead.

“Mesh’la,” Mando murmured as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on yours. His hands lightly trailed down your face so that he caressed your jaw on both sides as he exhaled deeply.

“Mando,” you repeated, too lost in a whirlwind of emotions to form any other words. What he did for you was…

“Din.”

You blinked your eyes open, not even aware you had closed them, “Is that…?”

His hands trailed down your sides so that they rested on your hips, though he was still careful of your wounds, “Yes.”

Tears of happiness filled your eyes as you smiled brightly, “Din…” you echoed his name.

Din groaned at the sound of his name in your voice. “Close your eyes,” his tone was soft as one hand came up and cupped your jaw, “Trust me.”

“I do trust you.” A soft moan escaped your lips as you obliged without a second thought. You trusted the Mandalorian… Din. And you were sure he trusted you too. From the way he reacted when you were hurt, to him leaving one of his weapons with you, to killing a target that would have brought him a higher payout if he had been alive. There had to be something there.

When your world went black, you felt the hand come off your hip before a soft hiss echoed in the room. Your breath caught in your chest as you felt his breath on the skin on your face. He murmured your name as his fingers caressed your jaw before the gap between your faces closed.

This was the first time he kissed you; every time before, the hamlet always stayed on. And kissing Din was even better than you had imagined. Without words, his kiss conveyed all the unspoken emotions, and when his tongue touched yours, everything bubbled over into an explosion of affections.

Din moaned into your mouth as his hand tightened on your face and he kissed you deeper. Your lips parted as you tilted your head and surrendered to him completely. The taste of him sent a wave of heat through your body, and your core fired up at the way his tongue tangled with yours.

Keeping your eyes closed, you grabbed onto his shoulders and dragged him back towards your bedroom. Nerves tingled against your skin as vaguely you realized this was the first time you took him back into your private, personal room. But, you felt safe with him, you trusted him, and you wanted him there.

Din broke away from the kiss when he crossed the threshold into your room, and he lowered his helmet only to have his hands free to hold you. His arms wrapped around you carefully as Din savored the lingering taste of you on his tongue. He let out a contented sigh as your warmth wrapped around his heart, and he had you safe and sound in his embrace.

But, you had other plans in mind, and after you stayed in his arms for a moment, you lifted your head and started to yank at the pieces of his beskar. A soft laugh escaped Din’s lips as he let you strip him, and his heart fluttered as he watched how expertly and with such care you took off his armor: a gesture he allowed to you and you alone.

Once the outermost layer was off, and only fabric adorned his body, Din decided it was your turn. As you tried to rip off his shirt, he tenderly took your hands and lowered them, “Let me, love.”

Your eyes scanned his helmet, as if you desperately tried to read his expression though the beskar.

“Let me take care of you, tonight,” he clarified in a soft voice, echoing your own words as he delicately stripped you of your clothing piece by piece before he ripped off his own clothes.

As hot as you felt, a chill still ran up your spine as the fresh air hit your skin as you allowed Din to strip you. He had seen you naked many times before, yet this time felt different. You were in your home, no music from the club played in the background, and he took his time with you. Times before, he seemed to be in a rush, or he was still riding the adrenaline from a bounty hunt, or you were on a timer.

This time, though, you both had all the time in the galaxy.

That same vulnerability was reflected in Din’s helmet; he had never before been stripped completely. Always needed to keep his guard up, he usually left most of his armor and clothing on, until now. But, just as you felt safe with him, that same security and trust beat in Din’s heart. And it fluttered in his chest as you gasped softly and your eyes poured over every inch of his skin, and a rush of heat pulsed through his veins at the wanton look of desire in your eyes. The way you licked your lips involuntarily made his cock twitch with need.

Din scanned you over once you were both bare, and a fresh pulse of anger flooded his system as he saw the bacta patches on your skin. Carefully, he ghosted his fingers across the wounds, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” his voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Tears filled the corners of your eyes as you looked into his visor and this time you had no doubts what his expression looked like, “It’s not your responsibility, Din.”

His hand trailed up your body, pausing as he tickled the skin of your breasts and for a moment Din really soaked in how beautiful you were. When his hand reached your face, he wiped away the tear that threatened to fall from your eye, “Yes it is,” he said plainly yet with firm conviction.

“Din?”

He let out a low growl as he took control and guided you back to your bed. Need guided his movements, yet Din was still careful not to hurt you as he lowered you onto your bed so that you laid on your back. Wide eyes looked up at him, nothing on his body but his helmet, and you gasped as you noticed how hard he was.

“Please Din,” you pleaded, “I need you…” You felt a rush of wetness in your pussy as he climbed over you without hesitation.

Din hovered over you as he rocked his cock along your folds, yet he was still careful not to hurt you or brush against your injuries. He groaned as he felt how wet you were, and his cock twitched between your bodies. Your name escaped his lips in a prayer as he shifted himself to caress your breast with one hand while staying over your body.

The moan you let out went right to his cock, and Din brushed across your nipple with his calloused fingers. Your breast was so warm and soft under his grip, and every time you cried out in pleasure, he inched him closer to losing control. But, Din fought to keep his composure. This wasn’t like times before. This wasn’t a desperate need for release. This was… something more.

“Fuck me,” you breathed, “Din…” you bucked your hips against his body, grinding yourself against him.

“Fuck…” he groaned as he felt your wetness on his length, “So beautiful… You’re so beautiful.”

You opened your eyes as you took in the sight before you. You couldn’t help the way your eyes roamed down to his chest as Din stayed overtop of you. It was then you noticed the way his arms strained on either side of you, his muscles tight and tense as he held himself back for fear of hurting you. But, the way he cared only made you more desperate, and this time it was your turn to caress his face.

Reaching up, you cupped his helmet, mirroring the way he touched you earlier, “I’m ok, Din,” you reassured him, “I’m ok because of you,” he heard the emotions in your voice as the room warmed, “You won’t hurt me. I want you… Need you…” you pleaded.

He moaned your name as he dipped his head down and touched his helmeted forehead to yours once more, “I…”

Din interrupted himself when he slowly pushed into you, still careful not to hurt you as he filled you with his cock inch by inch. You broke the connection from his forehead as you dropped your head onto the pillow as you felt the familiar stretch. Instead of fucking you quickly, though, Din pushed into your slowly, taking his time until he bottomed out inside of you.

“So good… Feels so good…”

Neither of you were sure who spoke those words. Perhaps it was both of you overlapping at the same time.

“Din… Move please…” you pleaded as you ran your hand along his back before you slipped it under his helmet. Soft, thick hair met your hand at the nape of Din’s neck and you couldn’t help but give it a gentle tug.

Unable to deny you, Din groaned as he rocked back and slowly thrust forward again, filling you to the brim. You cried out in pleasure as he fucked you at a slow and steady pace. There was no rush, no need to pound into you. All you both wanted was to feel the other, and you clung to his shoulders as his cock hit that sweet spot inside you over and over again.

Din wasn’t just fucking you this time. He was making love to you. And it was everything you ever thought it would be. Tears filled the corners of your eyes again, but they weren’t tears of sorrow. They were tears of joy, tears of elation, tears of emotions. A string of curses and praises flowed from both your lips as your warmth engulfed Din over and over again as he rocked into you.

“Fuck… Din… Yes…” you moaned as you dug your nails into his skin and wrapped your leg around him, desperate to keep him close, “You’re gonna make me cum…”

He growled as he fought off his own climax, “Show me how beautiful you look when you cum on my cock, cyare.” Din snaked a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your clit as he sped up his thrusts.

Without the music of the club to fill the room, Din was able to hear the wet sounds of your pussy with every thrust. And it turned him on unlike anything else before. He growled softly as the need to send you over the edge fully overwhelmed him. At that moment, nothing else in the galaxy mattered: only you.

“Din…” you cried out as he pushed you over the edge. Your entire body trembled as you came hard, your inner muscles squeezing his cock as you rode out your climax.

“Fuck,” Din growled your name as your orgasm triggered his own as he came deep inside you, spilling himself into your body and filling you up even more.

Just as Din was about to collapse onto your body, he stopped himself. The ecstasy of his climax took over all brain function for a moment. But, he caught himself and instead carefully pulled out of you and landed on your bed beside you. Right away, you rolled over and laid your head on his chest as you wrapped an arm around his waist. Together, the two of you came down from your highs, lost in the other’s arms.

Your eyes stayed closed as you peppered soft kisses on Din’s chest and listened to the pounding of his heartbeat. A warm smile lit up your face as you felt his hands gently stroke your back comfortingly, and you were aware of how careful he was to avoid any of your injuries.

“Din…” you waited for him to hum in response, “Thank you,” you whispered.

His breath hitched in his throat, “You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din replied, “I’ll always keep you safe.”

You trembled as his words went right to your heart. You stayed in the comfortable silence for several moments before you spoke again, “Hey Din…” your voice wavered as you traced random patterns on his bare chest. You felt him tighten his grip on you and you summoned the courage to ask, “Do you think love is in the stars for either of us? Do you think our lives would allow that?”

Din was silent for a time, and you knew he was choosing his words; he knew exactly what you meant by asking that, “Probably not,” he answered honestly, “But,” he interrupted your heavy sigh, “That doesn’t stop me… or you…” You’re stronger than you know…

He felt the way your entire body relaxed in his grip and he knew you understood the meaning behind his words. The truth was, he would do anything to protect you, to keep you safe. It didn’t matter who it was, Din wouldn’t hesitate to plunge his vibroblade into the chest of anyone who would dare harm you…

As you laid in his arms, Din lifted his helmet for the second time that night and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. The contented sigh you let out told him you were still awake, and you felt it. He smiled against your scalp, another gesture he saved only for you, before he lowered the helmet and settled in your bed.

When the sun rose, the two of you could face what lay ahead. But for now Din just savored the feeling of your body safe and warm in his arms. And while the words themselves remained unspoken, the feelings were there. And he was sure you heard them loud and clear:

I love you, cyar’ika…

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adamcoled · 9 months

Text

jealousy | rhea ripley

rhea ripley x fem!reader

summary: you and rhea aren’t anything official, but you’re still jealous upon seeing her flirt with others.

word count: 3,838

warnings: just slight sexual implications i think?

a/n: WOW um okay hi, i haven’t posted writing on this blog in YEARS but i recently got fully back into wrestling and have developed such a love for rhea ripley. so i decided to start writing again, but it’s been so long this definitely isn’t my best work. here’s to getting back into the swing of things i hope! (also i know samantha is engaged to ricochet and ofc all of it is just character work, but it made for a good plot soo)

Rhea was a flirt. That much was true long before you, and it was certainly not a secret to most. She had the charm, and of course the looks, so people were naturally drawn to her, and she loved that. Flirting, to her, was fun – harmless fun, for the most part – and typically it never went beyond cheeky comments or tantalizing gestures.

So when Rhea began flirting with you, initially you didn’t think much of it and really had no reason to. She was attractive – incredibly attractive – and her voice could melt you instantly if you let it; but this was just her thing. At first, you would catch her staring at you backstage or at other company events. Then, she started making it a point to tell you how beautiful you looked each time she saw you. From there, you were texting a lot more and hanging out outside of schedule. But still, it was never anything official and they were never labeled as “dates,” which you internally hated yourself for forgetting.

Because now, you were jealous. A fiery red jealousy that had you feeling betrayed without the entitlement to do so. For some reason, you thought things seemed different between you and Rhea. She seemed more serious and attentive, even remembering small details you’d told her about things you enjoyed. You couldn’t imagine she did that for just anyone she happened to flirt with.

Yet there you were last night, scrolling through Twitter and seeing endless posts about Rhea and Samantha. Rhea was being her usual flirty self, smiling, blowing kisses, and surely winking beneath those glasses, and it was obvious Samantha was enjoying it. Even worse, there were also comment threads with Cathy, and you knew it was all lighthearted, but it still made you feel some type of way.

You liked Rhea. A lot actually. Maybe that’s why you wanted to believe she liked you too and treated you differently from the rest. Clearly, you were wrong. And you weren’t going to be strung along in a game or play along with silly flirting when you genuinely hoped for more with her. That’s why now that she was here in front of you, you were going to be as indifferent as possible.

“Hey pretty girl,” Rhea greeted, smile beaming as always. She had finally found you backstage after you’d made it a point to not respond to some of her texts. It didn’t seem like she was too upset or phased by that judging by the greeting she’d given you.

“Hey,” you responded with only a half-smile of your own. That was something she definitely picked up on, because you swore you’d never seen her face fall faster.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dropping your attention back to your phone. Usually, she would have your full focus, but you were making every attempt to emphasize your feigned disinterest. “I’m fine, what’s up?”

Rhea used her thumb and forefinger to grip your chin and tilt it upwards, forcing your gaze towards her rather than your phone screen. Hastily, she studied your face as if she would be able to read your thoughts merely by doing so; with her eyes looking you over so intently, you felt your face heating up quickly.

“You seem off,” she finally commented, her finger tracing along your jawline from your chin before finally dropping back down to her side. You immediately missed the feeling of her touch against your skin, but that was something you would have to subdue. One thing you noticed was that Rhea seemed genuinely concerned, her eyebrows downturned and the smile she always wore - around you at least - nowhere in sight.

“No, Rhea, I’m really okay,” you shrugged.

“Then why are you acting like you can’t wait to get away from me?”

Her bluntness shouldn’t have come as a shock to you, but you were still taken aback when she asked so outright. While she usually oozed confidence, that seemed to be lost now. And it almost made you think you had been right about the two of you all along. But then you remembered how content she looked in those videos with Samantha, and how easily she could flirt with someone else when you had secretly been turning down advances in hopes there would be a real chance at a relationship between you and Rhea.

“I’m not acting like that. I really don’t care if you’re around or not,” you lied, and it was meant to sound nonchalant and unbothered but you silently cursed yourself for making it come out more aggressively.

“You don’t care?” she repeated incredulously, almost in disbelief of how drastically you changed. Just a few days ago, you were telling her how much you adored her smile with her head in your lap. Now, she couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with her - and it was crushing her.

“Listen, can we please talk about this later? The show’s about to start and the Judgment Day is up first, I don’t want you thinking about this out there.”

“Are we really gonna talk later?” Rhea questioned. “Or is that your cop out to avoid it altogether?”

And you hated her for knowing you so well, because it was partially your dread of the conversation. Still, you didn’t think it was a good idea to have it right before she was slated to go speak in front of thousands of people. At this point, she was frowning, yet still staring right through you.

“We’ll talk,” you promised.

“I have your word? Whatever’s going on is important to me. It really is, Y/N.”

The resolve of indifference you had was all but faded upon hearing how sincerely Rhea cared. You didn’t want to be just another game for her, but it was proving far too difficult for you to ignore your internal feelings. And she looked too pretty standing there, worried about you and looking at you in a way that made you feel naked beneath her eyes. Not in a sexually demanding way - not in the way too many people do - but in a way where you felt like she saw your very soul.

“Find me after the show?” you asked. “I’ll let you take me back to the hotel. Can’t exactly hide from my ride.”

You finally smiled wholeheartedly after making that joke, and Rhea had never been so happy to see a smile before. For a moment, she felt like everything was fine.

“Yeah, I’ll find you, angel.”

From backstage, you watched as Rhea walked out with the Judgment Day and cut a promo just as good as any other, if not better. It was impossible to tell the kind of conversation you two had shortly beforehand, and for that you were grateful. You weren’t sure you could remain as unphased as her, and seeing as you had a match tonight as well, you made it a point to avoid any further interactions with her during show hours. Busying yourself with your phone, Rhea still found a way to affect you when you saw her name flash across the top of your screen, indicating a text.

From: rhea :)

Good luck tonight ❤️

Half inclined to simply leave her on delivered, you hesitantly opened it and sent back a “thanks.” Following the Judgment Day’s segment, the rest of the show seemed to go by quickly, your own match fast approaching. While you were waiting in gorilla to make your entrance, you saw flashes of jet black hair out of the corner of your eye. A subtle glance over revealed it to be Rhea, naturally, standing there talking with Damian. Call it coincidence, or - the more likely case - call it Rhea’s tendency to be methodical with her actions. And like clockwork, her eyes met your own, leaving you no time to look away before she was grinning at you slyly. You thought perhaps her getting into character in front of the WWE Universe took away much of the previous unease and disappointment she felt during your earlier conversation. Because before, she seemed well and truly worried about the state of you, and you were sure she still was to some extent, but now her confidence had returned.

You had hardly any time to process it before you had to walk out, your theme hitting just as Rhea set her focus back on the man in front of her. That stupid, beautiful smile you thought to yourself. Right now, though, you needed to worry about your match against Zoey Stark, especially since you knew Rhea would be watching attentively.

Once the match began, you fell right back into your element. Zoey was a fierce opponent, but you had a fire beneath you and after a well-fought match on both sides, you came out victorious. You were feeling extremely proud of both yours and Zoey’s performance and partially hoped Rhea had watched the whole thing.

(She absolutely did).

Returning backstage, you noticed Rhea was now nowhere in sight. Your match was towards the last hour of Raw, however, which meant you wouldn’t have much time to kill before you’d have to meet up with her anyways. Thankfully, you found Liv, one of your closest friends on the roster, and knew you could spend the remaining time talking with her about anything and everything - the primary topic of discussion being you and Rhea.

“It’s just like, I think things are different with me and her,” you began, to which Liv nodded in agreement. “But then I see how she acts with other people, and I’m not so sure. Am I being delusional for thinking that way?”

“You’d be delusional if you thought otherwise! The girl is a flirt, sure, but she practically fawns over you at any given moment and is always asking about you,” Liv countered. All too often, she’d be the one Rhea would come to when she wanted to find out your whereabouts, as if Liv had a constant read on you at all times. You knew that to be true, but it still wasn’t total reassurance.

“You’re right, I guess. And I kinda told her I’d ride with her to the hotel so we could talk, sooo,” you revealed.

“I thought we were riding together?” Liv questioned, only slightly upset to be losing her driving buddy. If she had to make that sacrifice to advance things between you and Rhea, she’d accept it wholeheartedly. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, someone else’s voice interrupted. A certain Australian accent.

“I’m sorry, did I steal Y/N away for the night?” Rhea quipped, placing her hand on the small of your back where Liv wouldn’t see.

“Actually, I’m willingly handing her over so that you two can figure your mess out.”

“Well, thank you so very much for that,” Rhea smiled, seeming genuinely appreciative. She redirected her attention from Liv to you. “Told you I’d find ya. You ready to go?”

You glanced down at your phone, not even realizing how much time had passed with you and Liv chatting. The show was nearing the end, and Rhea already had her bag by her side, meanwhile you hadn’t even gotten your stuff together yet.

“I gotta go get my stuff real quick. You wanna wait here for me? I’ll be quick.”

“I can wait,” Rhea nodded, to which you took off with a promise to be no more than ten minutes. Once you were out of earshot, Liv had a few comments for the taller, raven-haired woman.

“I hope you do right by her.”

“Didn’t realize I’d done wrong,” Rhea retorted, confusedly. “...Have I done wrong?”

Liv only shrugged, though she really did believe Rhea was unaware of how she’d unintentionally hurt you. “Nothing that can’t be fixed, I think.”

“Liv,” Rhea started, her face becoming more serious. “I really like her.”

“Then make sure she knows that.”

When you gathered everything and found your way back to Rhea, Liv was long gone and Rhea was leaned against the wall, her eyes shifted down and transfixed on her phone as she absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter. She looked too good even just standing there in her own world. But before you could admire her for much longer, she heard you approaching and glanced up from her phone, shoving it into her pocket immediately upon realizing it was you.

“Ready now, princess?”

The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, yet it had your cheeks heating up within seconds. You nodded, following behind as she led the way to her car. Outside, she popped the trunk for each of you to toss your bags inside, and then she made sure to open the passenger door for you as well; it was the little gestures like that that made your heart flutter and your feelings for her to grow even stronger.

“Well, I just wanna start by saying you were amazing tonight,” Rhea complimented once she had settled into the driver’s seat.

“Thank you,” you giggled. “You watched it?”

“From start to finish, like always.”

She diverted her attention from the road towards you for a moment, taking notice of how much your face lit up after hearing that. And it wasn’t like she was lying just to make you feel good, either, because she did genuinely watch you each time you stepped into the ring, and she admired you heavily.

“I don’t believe you,” you laughed, although you only slightly meant that.

“I’m serious! Ask Damian or Dom, they’ll vouch,” Rhea exclaimed, pushing her hair back as she did. You weren’t quite sure what to say now, because one, you were feeling quite flustered knowing this, and two, you could only ignore the real reason you were sat in her car for so long. She took note of your silence and decided to tackle the subject head-on, a brazen move from her as always. “You don’t seem like you hate my guts now, at least.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at this.

“You’re being dramatic. I never acted like I hated you.”

“Slightly detested my presence?” she tried again, clearly joking at this point. While things seemed so perfect in this moment, you couldn’t help but think back to everything you’d seen flooding your Twitter timeline and how silly you’d felt for being so upset by it. As much as you liked Rhea, as much as it appeared she liked you, the harmless flirting had really gotten to you and forced you to reconsider much of what you thought. You weren’t even quite sure how to ask everything you wanted to ask, and you were admittedly fearful of rejection. But the only thing worse than rejection is never knowing.

“What do you think about me, Rhea?”

She was taken aback by this, you could tell, because she opened her mouth to speak several times but didn’t let any words out. To her, it was because she didn’t really know how to put it into words; there were so many things she thought about you, so many ways you made her feel, but it had been a confusing thing for her to navigate, unsure of your own feelings.

“I think you’re incredible, amazing in the ring, beautiful and kind but still assertive and badass,” she answered, hoping she’d said all the right things. Truthfully, that was only a small fraction of what she thought regarding you, but she was still holding back. Liv’s words repeated in her head, and she knew if she didn’t make it clear tonight, she may never get that chance again.

“And what do you think about someone like Samantha, or Cathy?”

You had caught her off guard again, the randomness of your question completely perplexing her. She hadn’t a clue why either of those two would be relevant, because - in her eyes - she had already basically forgotten the silly interactions they’d had. It still hadn’t pieced together in her mind that you were even the slightest bit jealous.

“They’re great,” she stated plainly. “Why?”

It was really now or never, you felt like. You had fed her pieces of the story, now she definitely wouldn’t stop until you told her everything, which undoubtedly included your own feelings. Rhea was focused primarily on the road, but she made sure to spare glances your way every so often, and each time you arrived at a red light, that focus was solely on you. She wanted to both try to read your expression and show you she was really, truly listening and wanting to hear what you had to say.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous,” you confessed.

“Jealous?” she repeated, even more confused now than before. But she noticed the way you retreated into yourself, suddenly finding more interest in your fingers. You could no longer look her in the eye, feeling nervous about the information you’d now divulged. This certainly didn’t deter Rhea, though, as she placed her right hand on your thigh and traced light circles with her thumb. “Why were you jealous?”

“I don’t know…it was dumb, I guess. I just saw the videos of you and Samantha, and then Cathy’s Tweets, and it made me feel like everything is just a game to you.”

Her thumb movement stopped, and instead she squeezed your thigh lightly, causing you to lift your head back up to look at her. She was already looking right back, admiring how beautiful you looked with the moonlight creeping into the car and a shyness about you she wasn’t used to.

“You’re right, that is dumb,” she affirmed. “Because do you think I know Samantha or Cathy’s top three favorite movies? Or their specific Starbucks order? The way they like their pizza? Do you think I’ve memorized all those things for anyone other than you?”

Before you could answer, Rhea moved her fingers to your wrist and asked you to push up your sleeve, which you did. She tapped directly on a birthmark of yours without even looking.

“Do you think I know each of their freckles and birthmarks?”

You were dumbfounded, at a loss for words with how much she really noticed about you. And that was only scratching the surface. While your flirtation had only started within the last few months, she had known you for years and had plenty of time to take notice of all these little things no one else would. Because she always had a soft spot for you, but you were in a long-term relationship for most of the time you’d known her, and she would never be one to overstep any boundaries.

“I just felt hurt thinking I may be falling for someone who only sees me as another person to mess around with,” you told her, taking note of how gentle her eyes were in this moment. She felt awful that she had hurt you, even unintentionally, and cursed herself for not being more aware and mindful. You weren’t committed to each other, but she still felt like she had made a mistake engaging in any kind of behavior that would make her feelings for you seem misguided.

“Y/N, I promise you how I interact with just about anyone else is entirely me in character,” she comforted. “I’m sorry for making you second guess that, but I’ve never felt realer emotions than I do with you. It’s like I can be me, just me. And I love that you make me feel that way.”

“I love when you’re just you, Rhea.”

“Then I’ll keep being just me, if I can start calling you just mine.”

Rhea was undoubtedly nervous asking you so boldly, but she was so damn happy to do so. She was staring at you hopefully, looking happier than you’d seen her since her WrestleMania win. And you were just as happy, not even realizing you had gotten to the hotel and had been parked for a minute or two now. Your entire focus was on her, eyes filled with adoration while she waited for your answer.

“I’ve basically been yours, I just needed you to be mine,” you beamed.

“I’m yours, love,” Rhea affirmed. “You are so damn beautiful.”

You wanted to instinctively look away, still feeling flustered even after the months of flirting and now technically being in a defined relationship. But Rhea knew you too well and gripped your chin before you could do so, keeping your face towards hers. Neither of you could get rid of the smiles you wore, too overwhelmed with happiness and adoration and love.

“Can I kiss you?” Rhea asked, eyes darting from your own to your lips. You nodded, and that was all it took for her to be all over you. Her lips melted into your own, and everything felt so right. Each time you pulled away, you were reconnected within seconds, physically unable to keep apart, both of you awaiting this moment for too long. You felt her smiling into the kiss, which in turn made you smile, and then you were two smiling, giggly messes. Finally, she pulled away for good (but not without one final peck) and laughed when she saw you pouting. She opened her door and made her way to yours hastily, scooping you out of your seat before you could even react. Then, you were pinned against the car with your legs around her waist.

“I’ll take you to your room?” she offered, placing feathery kisses along your jaw.

“My room?”

She laughed at how offended you sounded. “Our room?”

“Mhmm,” you confirmed. “You’re not getting away from me now, Ripley.”

You unhooked your legs from her waist and she carefully released her hold, allowing you to plant your feet back onto the solid ground. She followed you to the back of the car, popping open the trunk; you leaned forward to reach your bag, and Rhea - sly as ever - took this opportunity to smack your ass, only light enough to be a tease. Once you’d grabbed your bag and stood straight up, she was smirking, all too aware of her actions.

“Now why would I want to get away from you, baby?”

From then on, you both knew you’d be stuck with each other, practically inseparable and surely obnoxiously in love around all your friends - which they didn’t really mind, because seeing you so happy together was more than worth it. Rhea made sure to tone down her persona a bit out of respect for you, even though you reassured her you didn’t mind too much now knowing she was yours at the end of the day. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were more elated to scroll through your socials and see videos of interactions between you and Rhea rather than her and anyone else; and it definitely helped that she loved letting the cameras know you were hers.

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #wwe imagine #wrestling imagine #Wrestling Fanfic #WWE Fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe fluff #rhea ripley imagine

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fumifooms · 3 months

Text

On beastkin tattoos and drawn/written magic

Tried figuring stuff out because I was making a tattooed beastkin oc. Take it or leave it, just a bunch of observations and theorizing. There is a focus on how the tattoos look but I also try to figure out the underlying principles of how they work.

Table of contents:

observations & important details

Stuff that beastkin tattoos look like

Theories

Non-beastkin tattoos

I called the components lines and dents in the pic above, but it’d be more accurate to call them characters I think, or even symbols. At the time I wasn’t sure if it was a specific "alphabet" used for these tattoos and if they represented anything more than lines to the people using it so I called them like dents in a line or teeth in a toothwheels or inner layers in locks, but since I made the connection to magic circles I think they do. It’s the same structure as with magic circles, lines connecting characters and favoring circle structures. All magic iirc comes from calling upon spirits, so it’s interesting to wonder what written magic does exactly, if it communicates with the spirits or simply compels them.

Observations & important details

The picture at the start summarizes my observations and the recurring patterns, but I’ll also do a rundown and add more. The fundamental structure of the tattoos seem to be lines forming big simple patterns, and then small characters that sprout from a side of those lines. Although, not all lines have characters/dents, and some characters have two lines one on both sides like on Lycion’s forearms. On Lycion’s legs, there are also lines with two rows of characters on either sides, so yeah the line & dents are the fundamental structure but it’s flexible on how it’s put into practice.

Oh yeah, also notable that when doing less intricate doodles like on her blog or Daydream Hours, she often omits details so we can’t be sure on the smaller drawings wether there are dents/characters on some lines or not, we have to assume if they’re implied or if there aren’t any. For example on Lycion’s reference all the lines on his forearms have dents, but if you look at the other beastkins it’s honestly debatable wether there are dents on the lines around their forearms and lower legs, also see Otta’s tattoos on her reference…

One of the more important and puzzling details is that beastkin tattoos look very different depending on the soul type, from werebear to wererat etc etc. BUT we also see with Lycion and that random werewolf, that there is room for difference even within the tattoos for the same soul type… Of course, if we don’t assume that those differences aren’t because the type of canine soul are different, since Lycion does mention he doesn’t know which canine type his was so there’s room for variety there apparently. But I doubt that’d change much within the same genus and whatnot, but still, then we have the question… Weretigers’ tattoos look like tiger stripes, and werebears have lines that seem to emphasize a bear’s chest fur? Those two types have a lot of wavy lines that make them look rather different from werewolf and wererat tattoos. Different soul types certainly seem to require different tattoos, but to what degree is the choice of how and where the lines are placed artistic, and to what degree is it efficient if not necessary? What’s the logic of where they need to be, going from one soul type to the next? The weretiger and werebear one seem to have fitting patterns for their animal, but werewolf and wererat have much more artifical patterns.

One of the recurring patterns with similar placements are all the lines forming circles around wrists, forearms, lower legs and ankles… Positions do seem to be important especially with the recurring placings. Maybe the lines are in the places that are expected to change the most: legs and ankles & wrists with new inhuman different joints, strong muscled shoulders for tigers, strong core for bears, etc. A tiger’s eye, with all the tattoos around them…? More lines = an easier stronger more efficient transformation? With the differences in tattoos for same soul types I don’t know how much precision in the pattern themselves are important tbh, though I imagine the characters/dents are the crux of the magic and precision there is the most important. Feet and hands tend to be untouched though, Lycion is the exception to this with tattoos on his hands and fingers. Circles seem overall important imo, lines are almost always curved, or go straight around a limb to reach its other end and form circles that way, werewolf torso tattoos, etc etc.

In Lycion’s ref the tattoo ink is a brownish red, but we don’t see if that’s the norm- is what I would have said before the new Daydream Hour came out with some tattooed elves portraits where they’re a vivid red. Fleki’s tattoos are covered in her main colored reference(and in the mangas all tattoos are black ofc including Lycion’s, while on her blog and Daydream Hours the color is inconsistent and often black too), Otta’s are black though they also seem at least partly non-magical? The snake/rope pattern doesn’t look consistent with magical tattoos in general imo. Pictures of these tattoos are compiled at the end of the post btw.

It’s also important to remember, because of the pic below, we can never truly be sure of what’s necessary for the tattoo to work and what’s just artificial flourish, though with Lycion I feel like it’s implied that there’s nothing in his tattoos trying to hide in the meaning. It’s also interesting to note that magical tattoos can have random patterns added without it interfering with the tattoo’s purpose. Is it the placement that make them harmless, or that they mean nothing in tattoo magic so it’s like an extra useless line of code that doesn’t get processed? Or is it that once your tattoo is done the meaning of it is sealed, and even if you were to fully cover it up in a solid black square of ink it wouldn’t do a thing? No clue, but it’s all very curious.

Other stuff they look like

A buddy pointed out that one of the recurring patterns looks a lot like DNA strands. Maybe the "dents" signify the different base pairs?? Probably verifiably untrue since that’d mean there would only be a few different type of dents, and also if they’re doing DNA sequencing that would be crazy, but doesn’t that just make you wonder… 👀 Tattoos are like a conduit for magic (mana? Which is also a sort of life force) so I do rlly like the idea that beastkin tattoos specialize in and target the DNA in the some way.

We never see the tattoos from up super close, but especially with Lycion’s the "dents"/characters remind me of norse runes a bit. Mostly because of the structure of straight lines and the simplicity of each character as far as I can tell. Runes being used in magic isn’t a new concept so I wouldn’t be surprised if Kui intentionally incorporated them into art/writing-based magic. Culturally it doesn’t fit well in with the elves as much, but a few of them do have old norse names. (And magic tattoos seem to be a very elven thing)

And another buddy also pointed out that with the characters being connected with a line it was reminiscent of the devanagari script. The elves have a good amount of indian coding, with names and some characters having bindis etc etc, so if intentional it’d be quite an interesting detail.

(Source for second one. I couldn’t find handwritten examples where there’s a clear line between characters much)

Oh- and if we continue the train of thought of indian coding, are reminiscent of henna! The brownish red color is especially on point.

Lastly and very much least, drawing lines that separate and denote body parts always remind me of the guidelines for butchers that people often point to and even draw on the animal when cutting. Since this is the cooking manga I wanted to put this in.

Oh yeah! I should mention that some of the tattoos, especially with the wererats and the lines going down the torsos, also remind me of dissection/vivisection scars/lines.

Theories

Magical tattoos are like a conduit for magic, is what is said. In case of beastkin tattoos, that makes me think it’s not that the tattoos are what keeps the extra soul bound to the body but that they’re what allows the human to freely shift between human and beastkin form, unlike Izutsumi who can’t because she doesn’t have tattoos. So thus the souls are merged with or without the tattoos, but the tattoos help control and reign back the extra soul and its influence both on the body and on the mind. Sort of like a seal. The soul is bound by and not bound in the tattoos. Filtering the animal soul out and not in. Close but not exactly the same theory is that the tattoos are what keep the souls separate, and if there weren’t tattoos the souls would just mix. So then the tattoos are less about control and more about separation itself.

But it depends a lot on the angle you look at it with. Like while some think the soul is within the tattoo, I think the soul is within the body but the tattoos help ‘circuit’ and control it. My friend is convinced that it’s the first and theorizes a lot around that, but I plan to mostly talk about my own take here bc I don’t find the arguments compelling personally. (Do prove me wrong if you can /gen)

We know from Lycion explaining the different beastkins that what animal you can merge with is dependent on size and stature, the build of the body, but the line where a body becomes incompatible with an animal is rather blurry. Nimble bodies become werewolves and beefier ones become werebears, and the only prospect for halflings are rats. We do also know that Izutsumi and assumedly a panther bonded just fine. Obviously, a rat and a halfling still aren’t anywhere the same size, so again the line or hard limit is blurry. My take is that this is because the bodies have to shift between human and beastkin, the transformation has to not strain the body too much. If you try to transform a square into a circle, the muscles and skeleton might really struggle to adapt if not even just mess up. Lycion talks about the physical (and mental strains) in the pics below. Beastkins that don’t have tattoos and are permanently fused like Izutsumi might have more of a wriggle room since they don’t have to transform to and back regularly? But yeah if the animal and human bodies aren’t compatible enough maybe the body would collapse, or just be incredibly painful, who knows. It’s a bit terrifying to imagine what the failed soul bindings and shiftings must have been like when developing all this know how of the magic and what does and doesn’t work. Besides height, general size and body type, the amount of fat of a person might matter, like maybe for werebears. Healing and resurrection magic does take fat away from the body so maybe transformations would be a necessary cost on top of the mana? Or just be needed to form muscles, fur, etc? But yes from the examples we saw I feel like maybe werebears need fat, weretigers need musculature, wererats need to be on the nimble side, and then werewolves have loose requirements? More like ideals than requirements, I really doubt a fat wererat is impossible for example.

My main theory is that the tattoos are more about the transformation than binding the soul to the body, right. For example places that have a lot of tattoos and lines circling around limbs are ankles and lower legs, which with animal leg structures would get changed a lot during the transformation, bones and all. So the artistic parts are more about the tattoo artist’s will and about what parts of the animals are important or require more change while shifting, rather than it being a depiction of the soul’s essence or something like that. As support I think the pictures below referring to the physical strain of being a beastkin are relevant.

With this sort of tattoo magic, it’s a gut reaction to think that maybe there’s a special magical ink used. I doubt it, I feel like if the type of ink was a big component of how the magic works Kui would have mentioned it. There are some tattoos that are black like Otta’s iirc, but all the others are generally red so that could be support to that theory. The patterns evidently do matter a lot, so I don’t think it’s implausible that the patterns on their own are enough to fulfill their purpose. There’s also how "[the tattoos] are like a conduit", so I don’t think the tattoos cost or give mana but rather they, well, conduit the mana that’s in the body to be as efficient as possible or to fulfill certain specific tasks, like transforming, / lifting the wall between you and the animal soul bound to you.

Sigh how the hell does tattoo magic even work. "The tattoos are like a circuit" SURE but the symbols have to still mean something right… But then how does adding random patterns to camouflage the tattoos come into play without affecting the meaning, and if there’s an artistic or varying aspect to it and tattoos differ from one individual to the other for the same purpose then maybe it just isn’t a strict magic at all? I do find it fun that we don’t really know the underlying principles of the magic so it’s hard to even know how it activates and whatnot. Going back to tattoos being able to have extra patterns tattooed on top of it without it affecting the performance of the tattoo... But yes I do lean towards the explanation that as long as the extra patterns don’t mean anything they don’t interfere. But like if you just drew a line over the character/symbols/dents would it register that and stop working, or no? The limits are all so blurry… Here’s to hoping the world guide book 2 has info on it!! Readying myself to either get full face slapped or to have "I told you so" bragging rights.

Theoretically, it should be possible to bind two human souls together, or a monster soul. Izutsumi and Lycion’s souls are called feline and canid monsters iirc, but that’s like calling a panther a monster, I wonder if an actual monster from a dungeon’s soul would be more unstable to bind and to shift into… Monsters can leave dungeons, but I wonder about The Demon’s influence on them, like how he’s able to manipulate at will Kensuke, maybe it’s as long as a monster is in a dungeon? That could potentially be sooo bad for the monster beastkin. Wild speculation though, and I imagine being a human-human beastkin would be super extra mega taboo, I wonder if it’s ever even been tried according to elven records. This is the section that was important for my dunmeshi oc lol, evidently I think tattoo magic is very interesting so I want to explore the limits of it with ocs, a tattoo artist trying more and more ambitious projects and soul like a lovecraftian protagonist learning about what should be left unknown, and a dude who really wants to be More Than Human and divine almost with identity issues that decides to take on like 6 different souls. If you’re interested here’s the dude, still a huge wip tho.

I think it’s important to remember that tattoos are used for different magic and effects too, not limited to beastkins.

Edit 10/2/‘24 oh hey a leak, neat

Other non-beastkin tattoos

I know that I didn’t point out every detail and difference ever, like in that magical tattoos extra with the halfbody person those assumedly aren’t beastkin tattoos even if I included it in the main pic, and how the bust in that same picture has a line of characters around the neck without any line connecting them much like in the pictures below.

Which speaking of this is a good place to talk about different cultures having different systems or characters for magic? The torso of that guy in the upper right corner for example has very different patterns than what I’d have expected with the beastkin tattoo examples. And of course, Izutsumi’s tattoo…

Izutsumi’s tattoos support that the characters/symbols are the most meaningful and important part. Also goes against the assumption that the elven written magic system is because the symbols communicate with the spirits better, since well, they seem to understand japanese just fine. Maizuru’s written magic is said to be akin to gnomic magic, and she reminds me of irl onmyodo a lot. Like many other types of magic, different regions, people and cultures find different ways to practice their version of it.

And here with Otta, what I said earlier about her tattoo being ink and her tattoos not really seeming magical imo, maybe except the ones around her forearms.

#Dungeon meshi #meta #Analysis #theories #dungeon meshi worldbuilding #This is it for the tags ig. Pretty dry and quick for once #will edit in new stuff as I go if I find or brainstorm more #Compilation #If u have stuff to add on pls do. Can’t promise a response though #delicious in dungeon

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silvergreenseraphim · 6 months

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Angeal and Sephiroth (And Genesis?)—Dissidia Opera Omnia—Part One

Alright, so this chapter was a lot, and it opened with Weiss quoting “Loveless” for a reason, it seems.

“When the war of the beasts brings about the world’s end, the goddess descends from the sky! Wings of light and dark spread afar, she guides us to bliss…her gift everlasting!”

Weiss becomes our voice for Genesis, or his “brother,” in this chapter. When Seymour questions his quote, Weiss replies,

“It was a passage from a story our brother loved. He used to quote it for his best friend. That friend was Sephiroth, the hero and friend of the other “brother,” Angeal as well.”

This part was hard to translate into English, but Weiss essentially explains that Genesis used to quote Loveless for his close friend, Sephiroth, the hero, and Angeal was right there with them as the third friend in the trio.

Seymour is shocked and gasps, “Sephiroth and Angeal were best friends??”

Weiss replies, “It’s hard to believe of the now-evil “hero” that never reveals his heart. And yet, the exemplary First Class soldier that is a role model for everyone was his friend.”

I am on the fence about the translation of this part and may change it once my friend gets back to me, but for now, it seems like Weiss is pondering the friendship of Sephiroth and Angeal and how differently they turned out, because Seymour does make a comment like, “I suppose if you have dreams and honor, you can’t go wrong.”

But there is potentially more here that Weiss is saying about his own relationship to Sephiroth and Angeal—perhaps suggesting he is not their friend and doesn’t quite understand their past relationship himself. I will have to keep researching.

We cut to Sephiroth again, who is confused about his memory returning. He says he didn’t expect any memories to return from the Lifestream, but shakes his head and denial. He claims these memories Angeal brought back are unnecessary and that he most remove Angeal from the picture immediately. His motives are set.

Meanwhile, Zack and Angeal are talking about how Sephiroth changed. I translated this on Altocat’s blog and here is what they say:

Zack says,

“Angeal, I know you’re surprised…I can’t believe that Sephiroth changed like that…

Angeal replies,

“So, you were taken aback as well…”

Zack says,

“It was out of nowhere. We went to investigate Cloud and Tifa’s village…and I guess he discovered his origins. He killed everyone and burned down the village. He had always been the hero I strived to be…”

Zack and Angeal are both very crestfallen here, lamenting this knowledge. Angeal pulls himself together and says,

“I know…I’m disappointed too. Everything changed while I was gone, I guess.

Angeal further laments that he wasn’t there, and Zack reassures him that even though Angeal disappeared at the time and pushed everyone away, Zack would have stayed by his side and helped. Zack would have left Shinra, and he says he is sure Sephiroth felt the same way.

Angeal thanks his student but says that it was his choice and lonely path at the time—he had to carry the responsibility as a First Class soldier. Zack chastises him saying he shouldn’t think that way—after all, Zack is a First Class as well, and has enough experience. He could have helped Angeal. Angeal begins to reply, saying, “Zack…” but then they are interrupted by the others.

They say it’s time to make a decision about Sephiroth, and Cloud explains that the silver boi is planning to turn the world into an empty vessel that he may sail the cosmos with in order to find another world. An Advent Children reference, of course.

Rufus mentions that this goal is very similar to the desire of Jenova. He has to then explain what Jenova is to the other characters, as well as the Reunion theory.

This makes a lightbulb go off in Angeal’s head and he gasps, “So basically…Sephiroth is Jenova?”

He puts it together that Reunion implies that Jenova’s cells must be drawn back to their source, and since that source is currently Sephiroth, they must be the same.

However, the others simply say that Sephiroth/Jenova must be eliminated, and agree to hunt him down. Everyone nods and moves forward except Angeal, who lingers with hesitation.

In the next part, they are in the process of tracking Sephiroth, but the group notices Angeal’s troubled demeanor. They ask him if he’s okay and Kadaj says that he heard about Sephiroth being Angeal’s good friend. He says that it must be disheartening to see Sephiroth in his current state, since nothing is like it used to be.

Angeal notes Kadaj’s own tone of disappointment and Kadaj explains how Sephiroth used him as a puppet to find Jenova’s remains, which horrifies Kadaj because if Sephiroth and Jenova are the same, then his own “mother” used and betrayed him in such a way.

Angeal encourages Kadaj and gives him one of his classic pep talks, appealing to his usual “dreams and honor” code. Tifa notes that Zack often spoke the same way, prompting Angeal to recall teaching Zack all those things.

In response to Kadaj, he then says he was indeed surprised by hearing what Sephiroth did, but he says that,

“Sephiroth had his honor once too…and he has a tendency to hold onto things, so even if I am surprised, I can’t abandon him…”

The others say that they aren’t sure if Angeal’s words can reach Sephiroth, who was cruel enough to destroy Tifa and Cloud’s village. Tifa agrees as she recalls how she begged Sephiroth to explain why he did what he did, but she does say to Angeal that she believes he could have a better chance.

She kindly compliments him on how his “dreams and honor” philosophy had helped her as well. :,)

She encourages Angeal, saying that his words will surely be a beacon and that he should try to speak with Sephiroth again. Angeal hangs his head sorrowfully and agrees, saying,

“I don’t want to give up on him….so I’ll try as hard as I can…”

—

This is a good place to stop because the next chapters are where everything gets chaotic, but for now, we have some build-up for what Angeal wants to do, and for Weiss being a stand-in for Genesis later.

—

Some little notes:

The Zack and Angeal scenes were very sweet, as Zack wants to convince his old mentor to stop shouldering everything alone. Angeal’s absolute refusal to give up on Seph tugs at the heartstrings too, and I find it so sweet that Tifa actually encouraged him.

The “Sephiroth is Jenova” point is fascinating, but I believe we will soon find that Seph’s own will is blended into Jenova’s, as they are aligned, and this might be what reveals to Angeal that there may not be much hope for his old friend. :(

I am struggling with the Weiss and Seymour discussion, and this has been one of the parts that has slowed me down, because the context is hard to decipher, but I suspect that Weiss is comparing Sephiroth and Angeal to the figures in Loveless, which also becomes relevant later. I will update as soon as I can get an explanation from my Japanese friend. I am not skilled enough to decipher everything yet on my own, you see. 😅

But enjoy this for now, and I will be back with more soon! <3

#dissidia opera omnia #japanese translation #my translations #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #sephiroth #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #weiss #kadaj #zack fair #tifa lockhart #cloud strife #jenova #rufus shinra

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ooctlt · 14 days

Note

I really like this blog most of the time, but sometimes you take reasonable earnest asks that are trying to be thoughtful, and are such a dick about it.

Like if it's the characters being dicks, fine. But you could say something in the tags or post to indicate you're not just viciously mocking someone for trying to engage.

I still haven't submitted an ask since seeing your response that led to comments along the lines of "anon should go die in a hole" for asking, pretty reasonably, why harrow would want to stay with people she didn't seem to like or want to be around or interact with.

(i know, because she does like them and does want them around but doesn't know how to show it) but it's an ASK blog. How do we hear that from her unless someone ASKS

i understand it might be surprising and a bit hurtful to see an ask answered with the characters being mean/flippant, and for that i do apologize that it wasnt made clear that it would be a common thing in this blog. id like to issue the disclaimer: there is always the possibility that the characters here will not take your question well. they might answer rudely, and instigating behavior is not only encouraged but expected on both ends. this does not reflect my personal opinions as the artist; there are over 250 asks even after i constantly compile duplicates, and i will answer the asks that i personally like.

i will assume you are referencing the two most recent posts where gideon acts rudely and i repost an old panel: for the former i thought anon was really sweet for being so heartfelt and encouraging, but gideon isnt the kind of person who needs to be told shes brave for doing that by a stranger. it was a simple act of survival. and harrow is still very much in the passive deprogramming phase. the latter response was meant to kickstart (spoilers) what i will call the "dicks last resort" arc, where i clean out the inbox and share more simple, low effort, but potentially rude responses*. this is because i have roughly drawn almost daily for 87 days straight, and would like to recuperate without being burnt out because i love this blog and i love art.

this leads me to my next point: some of these answers will be curt and short and rude, because they are easy to draw. if i only prioritized the "good" asks or to make certain ask responses kinder, or longer, it wouldnt be a daily blog. it would be a monthly blog where 5 asks get answered among 100s. i didnt anticipate people asking about harrows piercings, and i considered shutting it down by just having harrow say she likes them etc. but i did want to give more insight into harrows character even if she wouldnt say so herself, and that took roughly 3 full unemployed nights. if i treated every ask in good faith the same way i wouldnt have time for anything else, because they take more effort and have to be seriously considered for the future. i can retcon their favorite ice cream or play off griddlehark fighting - it takes more to keep track of a narrative about people talking Around their issues

* by rude responses i mean "this will affect the 679ers negatively, much like making your sim 🧑‍🤝‍🧑➖➖ someone" there are a few asks planned to hurt in the same way one drafts a bad end in a visual novel, and this type of interaction is encouraged. of course if you dont want them to get worse dont send asks telling gideon she should flirt with MILFs (you cant send this ask now i already said it), but i encourage the banter.

TL;DR this is the "characters think you are weird for personal questions" blog. i am sorry i didnt warn of the ask-response banter, because i also enjoy drawing these characters being dicks. i do like when aggravation and conflict leads to character development. "how do we get earnest answers unless someone asks" sometimes you will never explicitly get that from them, and thats what the dead ends are for: to let you know to try something else and read between the lines

#the reason why i did not say anything sooner is because i do not like making ooc posts on here often. i want a little intrigue and mystery #i dream of when people will actively discuss in tags and notes how best to confront these characters #actual ooc #and i will say. i will not remember to indicate in the tags that i am not mocking the ask every time #i cannot be responsible for managing everyones feelings if they are hurt that harrowhark or gideon reacted badly #which i have seen people do! in the notes saying that gideons behavior makes them hate her a little! good!#if you dont like the direction this blog turns then i would encourage you to interact selectively

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criminalskies · 8 months

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The Aaron Hotchner Mega-masterlist. Part 1/?

Hi!! I wanted to make a sort of recommendation list for some Aaron Hotchner writers in this gorgeous community and what makes their work so special in my eyes. Please note this list is not exhaustive by any means. If you would like me to add you or your work to this list, please just fire me a message and I'll run through your masterlist or fics to see what you're all about <3

please note, this is a way to support writers on here. So play nice.

@honeypiehotchner - (K) an extensive masterlist, mixing fluff, smut and angst or hurt/comfort, they use the most stunning imagery and descriptions to really make you understand how reader's feeling in each moment. She never writes hotch out-of-character, able to make him sound exactly like himself, no matter how far off-canon the story takes place. The dialogue always feels like real chemistry between real people. I also adore how they write hotch x autistic!reader. Such a beautiful understanding and patience and love between them. I really enjoy K's ability to show how thoughtful & considerate he is of his lover's needs. mostly fem!reader fics, some gn!reader. K's masterlist.

@show-your-fangs - (A) does an amazing job of writing Aaron's mental battles with himself as he moves outside of his comfort zones. She can orchestrate such a sea of emotions in every scene I read, and I can never pick out even one word in the entire fic that seems out of place. Not only can she beautifully capture every shift in emotion or thought process throughout these fics, but jesus christ can she make Aaron Hotchner the sexiest motherfucker on earth. The scenes feel so natural and just ooze raw sex appeal. Marvellous work, not every piece is linked in this masterlist but i highly recommend giving her blog a good old search.

@hotchs-big-hands - (A) doesn't have many works currently released, but oh boy do we get quality over quantity. Her three part series 'what did you call me?' is stunning. She takes her time to really make me feel what the reader is feeling and it's so easy to step into reader's shoes. Not to mention that she manages to infuse suave and sexy into every hair on Aaron's head. Every step this man takes seems to leave me breathless because he is just so smooth and sure of himself, but simultaneously we get a glimpse of the war going on in his head. Most works are plus!size!reader (female reader) but some gn!reader works as well. A's masterlist.

@greg-montgomery - (Fay) can make a splinter in your thumb feel like a warm cozy blanket, every domestic or blissful or lovestruck situation you can dream of with Hotch has been written, and made to feel like hot cocoa on a rainy day. She does a gorgeous job of writing a brief, fleeting moment with him like it's something you'll remember forever. Fay's masterlist.

@ssahotchnerr - (Katie) has a beautiful way of melting readers hearts with the softest little moments that can be shared between two people. Whether Aaron's changing your tyre or building your a bookshelf, the tiny little details can make it feel like the most heartwarming thing a man can do. She really captures that certain unplaceable Hotch quality in every single scenario Katie's masterlists.

@reidersspencer - (Miso) is always a breath of fresh air, her fic ideas are creative and fun, she is very active, always working on several hotch fics/blurbs at once. Miso responds to every request within days, having produced something sweet enough to make you prediabetic, she does a fantastic job of keeping hotch, well, hotch, with just that extra sparkle in his eye as he looks at reader. Miso's masterlist.

@slutforsilverfoxes - (she/her), I truly think sf2 could find inspiration in a glass of water. Her fics are so original, and she has a way of making sure the dialogue never feels forced or unnatural, and the chemistry is thick in the air between her characters. You can always see just how reader and aaron became drawn to one another, she's always able to make me envy just how much our star-crossed-lovers have in common. She's able to make every character's actions seem deliberate and measured, and the imagery adds so much depth to her scenes. slutforsilverfoxes' masterlist.

@canuck-eh - (she/her), wrote some of the most beautiful, delicate, authentic, raw hotch fics I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Some of her works are as long as 20k words, but not even one of those words is wasted. The most beautiful characterisations and imagery. Hotch never feels out-of-character and these fics deconstruct him so well, giving you a beautiful look inside his mind. Please note, this account no longer writes for hotch, as of right now. So please do not run to her inbox asking for more. But I promise you, her masterlist is enough to sustain you for a lifetime. Canuck’s masterlist.

@montyfandomlove - (Mon) does a gorgeous job of making your wildest fantasies come true. Her response to every request will both melt your heart and make your pussy throb. Mon writes Aaron as both smooth and sure of himself, but also sensitive and self-conscious. She can use any situation to bring that old man to life, making him feel younger and more carefree in the process. Mon's version of Hotch feels so true to himself, and don't we all love him that way? Mon's masterlist.

@hotchs-bitch - (T) does such a beautiful job of breaking my heart. She has a real talent for building angst until my eyes well up. She writes so realistically about Hotch's struggles and triumphs with love, but also the happy little moments in his life with you that make it worth living. Lovely characterisation of the man himself. T's masterlist.

@chateauhotchner - (Andi) also loves to break my heart and make me cry. But, the angst is so beautifully tragic. Wonderful imagery and she's even been capable of making me want to smack my favourite man in the world. Andi's masterlist.

@hotchs-babygirl - (Zeina) can always capture the thoughtfulness and gentleness of our Aaron Hotchner. Makes me want to squish his silly little cheeks and stare into his big shiny doe eyes forever. Zeina's masterlist.

@alluring-andrayav - (Andraya) this girl likes to not only have Hotch break my heart but also stomp it into smithereens and spit on it in the process. Levels of angst I can never quite recover from but it's done so well I can't bring myself to hate her for it. Andraya's masterlist.

@whiskey-bumblebee - (Hannah) loves to give me cavities by making our man so sweet and beautifully himself. Hotch-in-love is a different beast, and one that Hannah captures really well. Also, some sweat-inducing smut here and there that I cannot fail to mention. Hannah's masterlist

@honeybrowne - (she/her) manages to write the very best and worst parts of dating aaron hotchner, having the most attentive, thoughtful, considerate boyfriend is of course a pleasure greater than words can say, but at the same time, he can only ever give you half his time and he tends to eat away at himself for it. A great cross-section of this man. honeybrowne's masterlist.

@hotchscvm - (Neens) writes some of the most carefree, caution-to-the-wind, sexy aaron we all need sometimes. But she also doesn't miss when she writes the soft moments between you two, the little things that make you fall in love with him (and get butterflies). Neens' masterlist.

@dudeitiskarev - (Cat) does such a fantastic job of creating whole worlds in each of her stories. She paints the most beautiful pictures of her scenes with each word, I never have trouble getting a crystal clear mental image of what's taking place. That's not to even mention how well she sees right through the many layers of Aaron. note that I believe cat is retiring from writing for Aaron but please cherish all of her works, they are gorgeous. Cat's Masterlist.

@masterwords - (Angela) has written hundreds of thousands of words about our Hotch, although most of her works are for hotchgan (hotch x derek morgan). In the years she's spent writing for these two, it is clear she knows both of their minds even better than her own. Every single romantic situation/scenario I can cook up in my imagination has already been written in completion by Ang and it is just amazing. Even if she breaks your heart, she'll usually put it back together even better than before. Angela's masterlist. (this is the hotch-only masterlist, the hotchgan list is here)

@ssahoodrathotchner - (Andi) writes the most feel-good fluff, if you just want to hold aaron in your arms or have him look at you oh-so-longingly, snuggle up nice and warm and read some of Andi's work. Mostly gn!reader <;3 Andi's masterlist.

@angelhotchner - (Marl) I do NOT see enough people freaking out on the daily about these works. An awesome range of gn!reader & fem!reader both sfw & nsfw. Like, reading the titles of these fics alone should clue you into just how stunning most of these works are to read. I highly highly recommend a deep dive. Marl's masterlist.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Again. There is definitely still two hundred blogs I want to add to this list, and I will as time goes on add to this because the talent and love and passion being poured into loving on this man is so staggering to me. I hope you've found at least one blog on this list that you maybe didn't know of before, or that it's a reminder for you to check out some writers you already know of.

If your name made it on this list, please know I adore you. If your name didn't make it on this list, please know I probably still adore you, and I will almost certainly get there in time. <3 I really just want an excuse to tell a bunch of writers why I fell in love with their work, so! if you have another writer in mind, please just drop their username or info in my inbox and I will get to work.

#Rome's recs #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #TALENT #RAW TALENT #come and see 'em!

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cripplecharacters · 1 month

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so, the posts on this blog about facial difference inspired me to make an oc with facial difference- specifically strabismus and a port wine stain. she's pretty much become one of my favourite characters to draw and develop, ive taken care to make sure she doesn't fall into shitty tropes. however, i have had one problem- in the world she lives in, rebels like her cover their face most of the time. ive been really struggling on how to design her mask/covering in a way that doesn't feel shitty, and doesn't feel like it's trying to cover her facial difference. and i know that technically it's not as bad if she's not the only character who wears a mask, but i still don't wanna push it, if you know what i mean? so it would be awesome if you could give suggestions on how i could handle her mask. here's a reference of her for. reference, and some ideas ive had for masks. thank you for taking the time, and for this blog in general!

[Image description: Traditional drawing of a light-skinned girl with pink straight hair, smiling. She has a large port-wine stain on the left side of her face, and her right eye goes inward. Around her are three headshot sketches;

first shows her in a bandana that goes over her nose with "bandana doesn't obscure FD but hides smile + necklace" written above, second shows a half-mask that covers only the right side of her face, with "early concept, feels tacky, shows port-wine stain but not strabismus :(", third shows a domino mask, with "domino mask, do I even have to explain? No-go" next to it. End image description.]

Hi!

I think that something close to the second one would actually be kinda fun (no irony or sarcasm). If we're talking about a story where everyone wears a mask, having the character with FD wear one that covers everything except for the FD is actually subversive! I never thought I would say that, but it does feel like it is.

Not sure how strict of a design should it be, but a diagonal - her bottom right to her top left - mask would be nice!

I tried to write down a detailed description of what I mean but it was coming out rather overcomplicated, so I hope you're okay with me doing a few demonstrative sketches; a diagonal and rather-silly option, an idea for the bandana with a drawn smile and the kind of tie that would show her necklace, and an idea for the half-mask but with an eye with strabismus painted on the mask.

So here are the suggestions! I haven't drawn in a while so my skills are kinda rusty, but I hope it conveys the concept! My personal favorite would be the first one - I know it barely counts as a mask but then again, in comics it's common that someone is unrecognizable when they wear a pair of glasses, so maybe it's not as farfetched haha.

The second one would be totally fine by my standards, but I'm assuming that her necklace has some kind of significance in the story, so maybe she could cross it at the back and tie it in the front instead for it to be more visible (or wear the necklace over it even?).

I think that doing something like on the third drawing above would be okay if there are also a lot of moments where her actual strabismus is shown. In general, I think that the idea of a character with a facial difference wearing a mask just to paint it on the mask is kinda silly, and I feel like it would fit her character. But for something like that to work, she would need to have the mask off often. If you choose to do that, I suggest your first time showing her to the viewer is with her mask off, both for the usual reasons I mentioned before but also because strabismus is often used as a gag in art. For me, seeing a character wear that kind of mask with no context would be kind of eye-rolling - but seeing a character with a crossed eye put on a mask with the same exact kind of eye, go and join their friends at doing rebel things? That's actually something new!

I enjoy that your character seems to be on the rather joyful and happy side, I like that :-) (smile emoji)

I hope this helps!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #face difference #mask trope #skatrickstump #i forgot to tag the asker! my bad

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loudclan-clangen · 2 months

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Hey there!

Checking out Loudclan? That's great! Thanks so much!

Loudclan was originally planned to be drawn as I played the game like most other clangen blogs... Then I got frustrated about how slow it was moving and played ahead. Just a little bit, nothing to worry about, only about 1000 moons. So this blog should be running for A WHILE. I also take pretty big liberties with the designs and events. I think it's more interesting that way! Also it's been several real life months since I started playing and some things I just... forgot. Or lost. Either way, it's fun to stretch my creative skills.

As for the mechanics of the blog:

General Content Warnings Include:

Death, Animal Death, Death in Childbirth, Violence, Murder, Illness, Gore, Bad Parenting, Cheating, Affairs, Drama, Cursing, ECT. (if i missed something please let me know)

Updates are not going to be on a consistent schedule... ever. I'm a college student. I just don't have the time or energy.

The style is going to vary wildly. It's been years since I've consistently drawn cats and I wasn't ever really happy with the way I did it back then anyway. Come along for the ride with me! I'm just as surprised by what my hands create as you guys!

Overview:

Loudclan is set in a fictional location that is based on South Central Alaska. A group of rogues fled up the mountains to get away from the deep snows of the valleys at the beginning of a particularly harsh winter. The clan follows three "Leaders" in the form of the Leader, the Lead Healer, and the Lead Mediator. These leaders will each pass their position on to their oldest heir, the closest related member of their direct family. Issues regarding what happens when two cats have similar claims have yet to be sorted out by the clan, and may never be fully decided... *insert mysterious foreshadowing sounds*

If you are interested in more of a deep dive check out this post: https://www.tumblr.com/loudclan-clangen/748314434606383105/loudclan-lore?source=share

Asks are welcome! I will do my best to answer them quickly and efficiently! I am happy to talk about characters, art, process, gameplay, pretty much anything. (I probably won't be showing sprites though, just because I've played ahead so far and a not insignificant amount of them are just... gone. Lost to the ether. Sacrificed so that my laptop could keep running the game.)

Also fanart/writing/edits are more than welcome! You guys are so cool and talented and I am honored that you would want to make something based on my dumb little pixel cats. Referencing or imitating my style/designs/layout is absolutely allowed, just make sure to mention me so I don't miss them!

I will never complain about anyone "blowing up my notifications" or spam liking. I think it's so neat to see people go through the blog liking as they go. Don't worry about it. I enjoy seeing you enjoy my work!

A little bit about me, you can call me "D"! I use any pronouns, I'm pretty ambivalent about them but the majority of people use she/her for me and I'm fine with that. I'm 20, I live most of the time in Alaska and part time on a ranch in Texas and I'm working on my BA in Elementary Education. I started reading Warriors in 2nd Grade and stopped in 6th Grade but the brain worms never die. If you know me in real life no you don't: It took me all of high school to kill the furry allegations I'm not going through that again. Oh, and my main blog is @restinginpiecesofpizza but warning, there's spoilers for Owlstar's family tree for like 8 generations posted on there.

Anyway, thanks for checking out my blog! I hope you enjoy!

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obimaulartfire · 9 months

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Do you ever just...wake up and think about how Obi-wan was, for most of his life, Maul's reason to live?

Let me explain, and this is one of the main reasons I was drawn to ObiMaul in the first place. (long ramble below)

We're all aware of the events at the reactor fight, and it'd be an understatement to say it was a very hostile first encounter. But it's in the aftermath where the dynamic gets interesting.

Maul survived on his own, for years, with only his top half. As a former biology major, sometimes I think about how possible this would be in real life, if at all. It would be insanely uncomfortable at best, and impossible at worst. But through the excruciating pain, Maul survived, fueled purely by his intense hatred/obsession with Kenobi (and some star wars darkside magic, I'm sure).

Maul says this himself when first meeting Obi-wan again in season 4 of The Clone Wars:

"You would never imagine the depths I'd go to to stay alive, fueled by my singular hatred...for you."

Imagine being on the brink of death, with half of your circulatory system GONE, your heart beating irregularly, and your "lower half" being in constant pain, but still finding something to live for, and living...for YEARS. That's impressive. Hate-filled or not, it's hard to deny that for that time, thoughts of Obi-wan literally kept Maul alive for a decade.

Maul comes back to the series having been left for dead by Sidious, with spider legs he made himself, and no sense of time and a destroyed sense of sanity. Yet, he lives.

And additionally, revenge on Sidious is only second in his thoughts to his revenge on Obi-wan, even though Sidious is technically the one who left him for dead. Since Maul can't sit still, he did many other things during the Clone Wars in accordance with his own ambitions, likely to attempt to reclaim that part of his life that had been lost to Lotho Minor, but that's a tangent for another post.

He gets revenge on Obi-wan (I guess) by killing Satine, but even that isn't enough for him, as evidenced by the Satine hate shrine that we see in Rebels, when Ezra visits Maul's cave on Dathomir:

(on a side note, there is no sane heterosexual explanation for this^, I'm sorry/j)

Why would you keep a memento of someone you've killed? Why would you cross out their eyes? Maul didn't hate Satine that much, and it's my opinion that he did this because she was important to Obi-wan.

And that brings me to my next point: Rebels Maul

Y'all.... there's a reason the title of my blog is "Twin Suns Changed My Brain Chemistry", because I vaguely had feelings about these two in Clone Wars, but Rebels really cemented this dynamic for me.

I cannot emphasize enough that in Rebels, Maul thinks Obi-wan Kenobi is dead. Whether he got killed in Order 66 or when Vader and the Inquisitors started purging Force Users, there was maybe a .000001% chance that any Jedi, especially Obi-wan, would have survived that. And yet. When we enter Rebels, we find Maul on Malachor, stuck on the planet looking for the Sith holocron.

WHY is he trying to find the Sith holocron? In Maul's own words:

"As for me, I...seek something much simpler, yet equally elusive... Hope."

Hope? That surely isn't a Sith ideal. It's revealed later that the only reason Maul wants to combine these ancient artifacts is to learn whether or not Obi-wan Kenobi is alive. I shit you not.

This implies that Maul has had Hope that Obi-wan has been alive for what... 15 years? That's a long time. At this point, Maul may be like, 49 or 50. He has been fixated on Obi-wan for 30 years of his life. Thoughts of Obi-wan kept him going and going and going for 3/5ths of his life. Even when he thinks Obi-wan has died, he spends 15 years trying to find him, just hoping that he is alive. But for what?

It's unclear to me what Maul, in canon, really desires from Obi-wan. But one thing for sure is that Obi-wan acts as a...source of emotions for Maul. A source of feelings, and a reason to keep going through times that other characters would give up.

Other characters may have survived, but Maul lived because of Obi-wan. Through being bisected, the Clone Wars, being chased by Vader and the Inquisitors, and through periods of despair.

And before the end, he just wants to find his reason to live again, and dies in his arms.

#obimaul #obi wan x maul #i've been writing this for hours #i just have a lot of feelings #star wars headcanons #long post #sw rebels #swtcw #darth maul #obiwan kenobi #i'm so afraid to put my thoughts out there but tumblr is the perfect platform for that so #one day i really hope to capture the raw emotion in this duo bc i crave it and there's not a lot of content out there like that #thank you for coming to my ted talk

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factual-fantasy · 3 months

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23 ASK! THANK YOU VER MUCH!! :DD🦆

No problem! And when it comes to showing your support? The absolute best way that will make me the most happy is comments.

It doesn't have to be a reblog or an ask like this one. Although it can be. It doesn't have to be a thought out comment complimenting a specific thing in the art piece.

Comments like "I love this!" or "💖💖💖!!" or things like "AKSKAJNCSDJNKVJN" or even "EATING THIS ART RN" are wonderful. You could leave the same generic comment on all of my artwork and flood my notifications, and I would still love and appreciate that more than getting fanart and ending up uncomfortable.

It doesn't have to be thought out, it doesn't have to be on every piece. But if you want more art from me? Remember that the #1 thing I look forward to when I post art, is reading the comments.

Now make no mistake! Foxy IS basically the big brother out of the 6. When it comes to his personality and his relations with the other animatronics.. he was always seen as the cool older brother that always knew what to do and how to cheer you up.

Foxy just gets picked on for being the "little brother" becuase he is shorter and significantly lighter than everyone else. So even little Chica was strong enough to pick him up and swing him around XDD

Also I have no idea how old the animatronics would be.. 💔 I just imagine that Foxy would be one of, if not the oldest!

(Post in question)

Well of course! Cici is indeed also the little creature of all time! The mic was just simply not offered to her- <XDD

@tallchest13-blog

AWWW!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH 😭😭😭💖🥺💖😭😭

@neo-metalscottic

oooo!! :00 Noted! Thank you very much for the info!! :DD

:DDDD PAPYRUS BEST FRIEND!!

I have not seen the new chapter, no.. :(

@taizarack

aaaa I don't know! <:0 I've never played the games so I'm unfamiliar with those characters. Are they well known characters..? Are they evil? Are they friendly? I assume if they're not a threat my crew would be cordial with them..? <:D aaa idk! Sorry!-- (Though speaking of squid ink cookie I have drawn that one before..👀👀)

As for Papyrus, here is the initial post about him that I made.

Then at the bottom of this ask post there's a chunk of important Papyrus lore..

There's another chunk of very important Papyrus lore in this ask post..

There's a couple nuggets of good lore in this post as well..

Then there's this post I made about Frisk finding Papyrus :00

And a few Papyrus nuggets sprinkled in here! Not to mention I discuss more of his story further down in this post! This is all the info I could find on poor Papyrus, I hope this was helpful! :}

@lildiaperboyjake

XD I'm glad you like him! And I'm sure he wouldn't mind a hug! Unlike the canon version, my Funtime Freddy is actually safe to hug!.. For now-

@astahertheelf

:DD Thank you so much!! :}}

As for all the Bibi stuff. You can find everything about him or the rest of the fam under the "#bibi" tag or the "#factual fam" tag on my blog. There's also the "#my ocs" tag and the "#my original stuff" tag :0 though I don't think the latter has much attached to it-

I've been meaning to make a master post for all the Bibi/factual fam stuff but I don't have the headspace to do all that atm-

I thiiink you can eat them?? Probably yeah. I think the lore from the games is that they are literally, actually, living cookies. And they probably taste like the thing they're based on.

Soooo the only one that would taste good is Coconut XDD

XD She is very proud of him

@sparkdrawsstuff

Its all extremely vague, but I kiiind'a have an idea..??

Seafoam and Octo obviously met as little kids. They grew up side by side and when Foam wanted to get a ship and become a pirate? Octo followed him and became his first mate.

At somepoint after they picked up Ellie and Louis. Thiiinking that they knew Ellie before they got the ship and she joined them..? Not sure about Louis..

Now when it was just the four of them. They got caught in a great storm while out at sea. Blue Beauty saw this ship clearly struggling and in danger so she helped guide the ship to calmer waters. It was her help alone that prevented the ship from sinking. She probably secretly followed them around for a while before making herself more known and officially joining the crew.

Uhhhh Pinwheel, Coconut and Tuna were all troubled youths that were taken under Seafoam's/Octo's wing. Not really sure about Spider Crab..? But I'm thinking that he's the medic of the crew. Also not so sure about Cuddle or Urchin.. Though I'm thinking that this isn't Cuddles first rodeo. She could be an experienced pirate that somehow indebted herself to Seafoam..? Maybe once she paid her debt she stuck with the crew because they were neat? Though she seems like the crafty type.. She seems like she'd rather slip away undetected instead of staying to faithfully clear her debts.. Not sure about that one--

And Red is Seafoam's great nephew. He lost his mother/crew in some kind of tragedy which resulted in Seafoam taking him in.. Poor Red :((

XD I did something similar once-

The Afton's do exist. All of them. They are a core part of the AU. :00 Just like in canon! But as for their roles or where they are now or what happened to them... alas, I cannot reveal such things.. :(

As for the Sister Location AU tho--- I'm thinking that William Afton is alive and well and he runs the Circus.. 👀👀👀

Oh man, she dreams of doing so. But Sadly, she is much too large to give him a kiss :(

Unless.. 🤔 If Seafoam somehow grew or she shrank? hmm..

(Post in question)

Yeah, its was interesting.. but not for the reasons you'd think.

Papyrus recognized Seam and Jevil. He addressed them by name. He didn't approach them, seeing as Seam was very tense..

He said that he was happy to see them again. Explained how he worried about them, and was glad to see that they were both ok.

Seam and Jevil both looked like a deer caught in the headlights. If Jevil had the strength to do so, he might have just retreated with a mirror..

Sensing all this, Frisk tells the group Papyrus' story. Some of the group is skeptical, for the same reasons Seam was all that time ago.

But Frisk grantees the group that Papyrus is genuine. She says she has never met a kinder soul before. That no matter what timeline she may choose, genocide, pacifist, neutral.. Papyrus was always full of kindness to his very core. And that she believes his story 100%.

Grillby and River Person back this up. Saying that the Papyrus from their worlds was a very kind soul too..

Jevil is too exhausted to really process this much. But the horror of the situation settles on Seam. Realizing that Papyrus was actually a victim. They had the power to free him all those years ago. And they ran..

Its not addressed right away.. but eventually its brought up again. They both feel horrible for what they did. Leaving him to suffer alone for so many years..

But of course,, Papyrus's kindness never ends. It never broke or faltered after all this time. He forgives them. With all his soul he forgives them. He says he was never angry at them, he fully understands now why they left and he does not blame them. He's just glad to see that they're ok. And he's happy that he's not alone anymore. :}

@solst1ce-sketches

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

@csdumpster

I'm not sure if he has Polar Madness.. correct me if I misunderstood, but Google seems to say that Polar Madness is mostly about being sick of the people around you. Being with the same people for months would drive anyone crazy and make them super irritable.

It also talks about developing sleep disorders due to the strange night and day cycle. It mentions anger and depression too..

I'm thinking that the main two issues, sleep and irritability towards coworkers, aren't a problem for Natquik. For 1 he doesn't have any coworkers- but also he's an Arctic fox! He grew up in the Arctic. These strange night and day cycles are nothing new to him, in fact he was designed to live with these cycles! So I think he's safe there.

Now the depression part.. due to the extreme loneliness he must have felt eventually.. that could be a problem. But hey at least my version of Natquik has Marsh and Jack to keep him company XD

..oh wait, the Everglades. I wonder if Natquick would develop some kind of.. Florida Madness trying to deal with those different night cycles and living with those two morons for weeks XDD

(Post in question)

OH YEAH!! I can totally see it! XDD

(Sorry for the late reply! I am unwell-😢)

Aww, 🥺Perhaps they do. They're all doomed 💖

(Sorry for the very late reply, things really got away from me-)

I'd like to imagine the 5 of us all sitting down and I spawn/draw in a bunch of food for everyone to try and pick their favorite.

Bibi picks chicken nuggets. Jangles picks bowtie pasta with cheese cubes and Miracle whip. Every time Cici tastes something new she claims its her favorite, so she hasn't really figured it out yet- maybe strawberries??

Gerald's favorite is celery. Mind you I did not draw any celery, and he has never tasted it before. But he has a very strong feeling that it is surly his favorite.

#my response #fnaf security breach #poppy playtime spoilers #octonauts #factual fam #deltarune #undertale #seam and jevil #papyrus #cookie run kngdom #cookie run #cookie run ocs #my ocs

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toointojoelmiller · 3 months

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Update: I continue to work on all things! Nothing is abandoned! New chapters will come!

The actual, fun and exciting update: I'm going to start recommending a few AMAZING TLOU fics that you might have missed on my blog every Saturday for the next while.

I hope you find some new great reads to keep you going while we wait for season 2 - our fandom is seriously so freaking talented, and there are SO many incredibly written fics out there that I want to yell about a bunch of them! Please reblog!

These fics will vary re: how closely they stick to canon and what themes they explore, but you can expect them all to be wonderfully written and, obviously, heavily feature Joel Miller.

Some of these, including this weeks, may include mature content - make sure to read and heed the trigger warnings listed on ao3!

I have never really been interested in fan fiction with OCs, so I missed out on this week's recommendation for a long time and I bet a lot of you did too. It's both a wonderfully told Joel love story and a fic that, in my opinion, really honours the world and characters of TLOU.

Go Your Own Way by @chronicallyonlinewriter 232,575 words || 31 chapters rating: mature [see ao3 tags for full content warnings] featuring: post season/game 1 life in Jackson, angst, fluff, action, romance, smut, plenty of protective Joel and parent Joel

You can check out a review from @march-flowerr below, describing some of what makes this story so special: (vague general spoilers re: themes and mature content)

“Go Your Own Way stands, in my mind, as one of the most well written piece of fiction on Archive of Our Own. Nandorluna has such an intimate and authentic take on the existing characters that we know and love (on Joel and Ellie and all the Jackson gang) but it’s her ability to create stunning, well fleshed out original characters that drew me to her story initially. Her main character, Benny, moves across the story in such a visceral and realistic way; her arc spans not just the present canon timeline, but transports us through an entire lifetime: from childhood to outbreak, to first love, to first loss, to heartbreak and grief and then finally, to her heart’s final resting place: Joel Miller.

Zee manages to write about and embrace such difficult topics as assault, pregnancy loss, and grief without ever once making a show of it. She handles each moment with quiet dignity and intense self reflection; she draws beauty from the hollow depth of heart ache and despair without ever once losing the thread of hope that The Last of Us is known for.

At the heart of Go Your Own Way is the love story of Joel and Benny. Zee manages to create a compelling story about brokenness and connection and the raw, rare glory that is finding someone with whom you can begin to fit yourself together with again. It’s a story of family - of people who when left to wander, find their hearts drawn to each other. It’s a story about love - each relationship, from Benny and Alexei’s long friendship, to Ellie and Joel’s turbulent first years, to Benny and Joel’s steadfast devotion for each other, caters to the soul. It’s a story that I’ve found myself returning to, again and again, in all moods and places in life. If I could change anything about it, it would only be that it did have to end after all."

If you read and love this, please please show the author some love and leave a kudos and comment!! Happy fandoming y'all.

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babyjakes · 6 months

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forever and a day | 54. you didn't.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

← last chapter | series masterlist | next chapter (coming soon!) →

summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse (including sterilization) and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. minor mentions of disordered eating. themes relating to abuse of power/authority and immoral interrogation tactics including SA (with brief depictions.) evil!Tony Stark.

[Steve]

If the night at Bucky's had been an isolated incident, I wouldn't have thought much about it. Unfortunately, in the days that have followed, things have only seemed to get more and more difficult for Willa.

It started the following morning, when I woke up around 5:00am to find the little girl in the bed next to me, bawling her eyes out. I had quickly switched on the bedside lamp, checking her over to see what was the matter, and I found her to be in the grips of a seemingly hellish night terror. She had no mind channel open, no crimson glow, so there was no way for me to know what she was dreaming of. Immediately, I had gathered her in my arms, rocking and soothing her as best I could while simultaneously hoping to rouse her from her torturous sleep. But it was no use; she was far too deep in the nightmare to break free. She flailed and sobbed and sputtered incoherently for hours, and all I could do was hold her and watch. By the time 7:00am rolled around, she finally woke up, and at that point she was inconsolable.

I couldn't get anything out of her that entire morning. She had fought her way out of my arms and crawled deep under my blankets, and I simply had no heart to remove her. I tried coaxing her out with the promise of cuddles, breakfast, and even her favorite movie, but nothing worked. Eventually, I decided to leave her alone and let her determine when she felt safe to come out, but she ended up staying there for most of the day. When she did finally emerge, she was a puddle of tears, her eyes begging for comfort and reassurance. But at the same time, she wouldn't let me come anywhere near her. When bedtime came around again, I offered to let her sleep with me in my room for another night, and she surprised me greatly by agreeing to it.

Through the night, she had another horrific nightmare, one so terrifying that it sent her jumping out of the bed in fear when she awoke. As soon as she saw me waiting for her with the lamp on, a deeply concerned expression drawn on my face, she grew so afraid of being punished that she began hyperventilating, eventually passing out from her compromised airflow. In the agonizing process of her panic attack, she wet herself again, and it was at that point that I decided I needed to speak with Jenny.

"Did anything happen in the days leading up to her shift in behavior that might've been cause for such a regression?" the mild young lady asks as she sits across from me in the living room. Resting back against the soft cushions of the sofa, I pick apart the past week in my mind, ultimately unable to identify anything.

"No," I sigh with a shake of my head. "There were small incidents here and there, but that's always the way it's been with her. Nothing major happened, at least, not that I can think of." It's now later in the morning, and Jenny and I are wrapping up a last-minute session I requested while Willa plays in her room. The doctor started off speaking with the child herself, but after half an hour or so of not getting much response at all, she decided to come out and work with me instead.

"I see," Jenny notes, scribbling something down on her legal pad. Closing up her pen, she brings her eyes up to meet mine, a familiar sense of warmth and patience lingering in her gaze. "Steve, with everything that Willa's gone through, her road to recovery isn't going to be as smooth as any of us would like it to be." I nod, not sure where the doctor could be going with a statement like that. "And even though things seem like they're getting worse with her, this is actually a pattern that's seen quite frequently with survivors of abuse and trauma who've recently escaped. Willa's body and mind were suppressing a lot of emotions, a lot of fear during her captivity, and even at the tower due to the things Tony did; her system couldn't handle addressing these feelings, so it shut them out. Now that she's in a truly safe place, with a safe person who only loves her and takes care of her, those things are beginning to show themselves because it's safe for them to." A wave of relief washes over me as the woman finishes her explanation, and I let out a deep hum.

"So this... is normal?" I ask. She nods.

"It's a difficult part of the process, since it might seem to both of you like things are getting worse when they should be getting better, but it's really just a sign that her body and mind are ready to start doing some deeper repair."

"I see. That's..." my voice trails off as I bring a hand up to brush through my hair. "That's so good to hear," I finish honestly. "I was really worried that I had done something wrong, or was messing up in some way."

"I don't think you need to worry about that, Steve, not at all. You're doing a phenomenal job with Willa. She just adores you." A faint smile crosses my face as I think of the little girl, and how much love and care I hold for her in my heart as well. "As far as dealing with her new or returning behavior, I'd recommend allowing her to get it out, as much as you possibly can. A big part of her might just need to respond in the way her body originally wanted to. She might need to go through the act of being scared or crying or getting sick, since those were all responses that were made impossible for her up until now. In regards to the increased accidents, it's a very common indicator of sexual trauma in children. I know it's frustrating, but try to be as patient with her about it as you can."

"No, no- it's not even frustrating," I assure her quickly, meaning the words with all my heart. "Really, it's not. It's not a hassle when it happens, not at all; it just makes me so worried."

"I know it's alarming to see her regressing in that sense, but it's totally normal and shouldn't pose an issue permanently as long as she remains in a safe environment where she isn't violated sexually. We're just meeting her where she's at, if that makes sense, and where she's at might go forward or backward for a while before we really start making linear progress. I know you know this already, but Willa is in many ways somewhat younger than five still, at least internally. And that's okay. We just have to let her exist at whatever developmental age she's at."

"And you think- you're sure it's okay? That I'm kind of, well- I don't know, kind of 'babying' her, as Tony would say?" I ask, wanting to be sure the doctor still approves of my controversial approach. Jenny smiles, allowing me to relax even more with relief.

"Yes, that's completely acceptable. Actually, it's probably very therapeutic for her system to be allowed to have those critical early childhood experiences that she was deprived of for so long. Whatever helps her feel safe and secure, even if it's meant for younger kids, is completely fine."

"Good," I nod, feeling slightly more sure about myself as a parent from all of Jenny's encouragement. "I'm sorry she wasn't up to working with you today," I apologize again, "I told her you were coming and asked her to do her best to be open and honest, but... I don't know. At the same time, I don't have much heart to push her."

"It's completely fine," Jenny reassures me once more, shaking her head at my persistent apologizing. "Therapy isn't ever something that should be forced upon a child. She'll talk when she's ready." Glancing down at her notepad, she offers, "I was wondering, though, if maybe the three of us could wrap up the session together? I believe Willa's still playing by herself in her room, and a lot of times children can be demonstrative of what they're thinking or feeling through the ways that they play. Maybe we could sit in with her for a little bit, if you don't mind?"

"I don't mind at all," I tell her, earning a smile as she rises to her feet.

"Alright, then," she says with a nod. "I'll let you lead the way."

Leading the woman back through the house, I stop just outside the child's half-open door, knocking a few times against the sturdy wood before pulling it the rest of the way open. Willa sits on the floor beside her bed, a few toys scattered around her as she holds a small wooden doll in her hands. Her big green eyes meet mine warily, and my heart sinks as she begins to tremble. "Hey sweetheart," I greet gently. For a moment, I remember that just a few days ago, she would beam every time I entered the room. Realizing that we're back to such a state of fear and uncertainty, a tinge of disappointment builds up inside of me. But then, I remember the doctor's words, and I'm able to remind myself that Willa's behavior is actually probably a good sign, in some weird way. "Things are starting to show themselves because it's safe for them to."

"Your daddy and I were wondering if we could sit and play with you for a little bit," the young lady's soothing voice overlaps her previous words running through my head. A look of skepticism forms on the little girl's face as she glances between the two of us, but thankfully after a few more moments, she nods. "Wonderful," Jenny says with a smile, and we enter in, both sitting a few feet back to give the child some space.

"What're you playing, Willa-bug?" I ask in a gentle tone, now able to get a better look at the toys she's taken out of her boxes. She has a bathtub and a sandbox from a dollhouse set, as well as Captain America and Ironman figurines, and the little brown-haired doll she's holding in her hand. The clothes are half torn off the doll, the hair messed and tangled. Big, frightened eyes look from the doll to me, and then back. "Who've you got there?"

"Willa," she says simply, holding up the doll that seems to represent herself. I nod.

"Is Willa getting dressed?" Jenny asks politely.

Swallowing hard, Willa shakes her head. "Off," she mumbles, removing the toy's purple dress and placing it on the floor. She then removes the doll's underwear as well, leaving it completely naked. Next, she reaches over and picks up the sandbox, opening up the cover. Almost urgently, she begins to dig, not stopping until she's created a little hole in the center. Then, she takes the Willa doll, placing it in the center of the hole. A lump forms in my throat as she buries the tiny pair of underpants with it, not paying any mind to the dress.

"Oh, you're... is Willa playing in the sand?" I ask, trying to understand the child's actions. Not giving a response, Willa simply continues with her scene, picking up the Ironman action figure and extending its arm. Clumsily, she begins using the plastic hand of the figurine to begin shuffling sand back over the doll that represents herself. "Willa, sweetie, what- what is Ironman doing?" I question carefully.

Once the wooden doll and her underwear have disappeared completely beneath the sand, Willa extends the other arm of the superhero's body, making them now both stick out straight. With a concerning amount of force, she begins jabbing the hands into the sand, uncomfortable sounds of plastic and wood colliding as the man apparently attacks the girl. Glancing over at Jenny, I see that her brow is furrowed in concentration. All I can hope is that she's understanding what Willa's actions mean, because to be completely honest, I have no idea what to make of any of it.

After several more moments of the violent motions, Willa finally stops, putting Ironman's arms back down and dropping him to the floor. Sifting through the sand, Willa pulls out the wooden doll, shaking her off slightly before finding her purple dress and redressing her. Turning back to the sandbox for a moment, she uses a single finger to re-bury the underpants, causing my brain to ache with questions and concerns. When satisfied with the way the piece of clothing is hidden, Willa picks up the bathtub, once again removing the doll's dress before placing her in the tub, coming to what seems to be a stopping point.

"Sweetheart?" I ask quietly, unable to even form my thoughts into a question.

"Can you tell us what you're doing, Willa?" Jenny fills in for me. "Willa's taking a bath now?" The little girl nods. "What about Daddy? He's with you when you take baths, right?" she continues, picking up Captain America off the floor and offering it to the child. To my surprise, Willa shakes her head, pushing the doll away. Jenny lets her. "No help from Daddy? Okay, that's okay, hun," the doctor says quickly, wanting to avoid upsetting the chidl.

"What was... what happened in the sandbox, honey?" I ask, not sure if I should be asking so many questions but ultimately too worried to refrain from doing so. Willa flinches slightly at my question, her bottom lip quivering as she gives me nothing but silence in return. "Okay, it's okay, sweetheart," I coo soothingly, not wanting to push the subject too hard, "that's okay, you don't have to tell us."

"How about you keep playing, sweetie," Jenny suggests, "it's okay. You said Willa was in the bath?" The small girl nods, looking back down at her toys before pulling the doll out of the tub, redressing her in her purple gown. Then, the child surprises both me and the doctor by repeating the same exact process all over again, starting with digging out the underpants in the sandbox, putting them back on the doll, and then completely undressing it.

My brow creases in perplexion as I watch Willa 'play,' her motions almost seeming like a routine or ritual that her body knows by heart. She repeats the entire scene once, then twice, and by the point in which she's buried herself a third time with her underwear, preparing the Ironman doll to perform his assault, I finally speak again, causing the child to pause. "Willa," I breathe, my heart pounding faintly in my ears. "What are you doing?"

Her wary gaze rises to meet mine and she blinks, her arm beginning to tremble as she clutches the action figure tightly.

"Could you explain it to us?" Jenny adds, her voice laced with concern. "What is Ironman doing to Willa?"

"Why is she buried with her underwear?" I ask, earning a glance of warning from the doctor. Sighing, I take a moment to breathe, not wanting to say anything I might regret. "What is- sweetheart," I murmur as I notice the poor thing's eyes filling with tears. "What is Tony doing to you?"

"Hurting me," she concedes, her voice barely loud enough to hear. Her big green eyes peer up at mine and beg for what she's too afraid to out loud: to not hurt her, myself, to not be angry with her for expressing her feelings with her toys.

"Okay, Willa-bug," I nod, not completely understanding but deciding that at the moment, I don't really need to. My biggest priority for now has to be showing Willa that she's safe and that she's not in trouble for what she's admitted. "What if- how about Daddy comes and helps you?" I offer hopefully, taking the Captain America figure from Jenny carefully and holding it up for the little girl to see. "How about Daddy comes and protects you?"

"N-no," Willa refuses, picking up her sandbox and holding it slightly closer to herself, almost in a protective manner.

"Why not, sweetheart? How about Daddy comes and- comes and makes Tony stop, stops him from hurting you," I try, reaching out with the figure and trying to place it in the sandbox with the other two characters. Unexpectedly, Willa jerks it away, bits of sand spilling out from the sides as a look of anger forms on the child's face, a look I've never seen before. "Willa, please-" I insist, extending a hand to take hold of the sandbox.

But to my complete surprise, instead of pulling back again or allowing me, Willa throws the entire thing at me, sand dumping all over my clothes as she snaps, "No. You don't. You didn't."

As the dust settles into my lap and I blink away the sand from my eyes, I'm met with the sight of Willa staring back at me, any indication of anger or frustration completely drained from her face. Her eyes are as wide as saucers as she gawks at me, as if she, herself, can't believe what she's done. And before I can say anything, before I can reassure her or even try to calm her fears, she's jolted up onto her feet, running right out of her bedroom door.

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pennyserenade · 6 months

Text

The Hollywood Hedonist Method

pairing: dieter bravo x you, dieter bravo x reader rating: explicit (oral sex (female receiving), pinv, unprotected sex, light dirty talk (a little degrading), sex in public place (?), soft dom!reader, soft dom!dieter tags: references to drugs, talk of suicide (not serious), a self pitying dieter bravo word count: 2.9k+ summary: dieter's movie is bad and he looks to you for a quick fix to a long problem. a/n: is this the most inspired piece i ever wrote? probably not but i did have a lot of fun writing it. i wouldn't say this is my usual writing style, but i'm trying something new on here and i hope you like it. if you'd like to be updated on when i post my writing, follow my writing updates blog @belovedinfidels

He fingers you on the black marble countertop, his mess of crushed ambitions transformed suddenly into a hardy joie de vivre as you accept his tongue into your mouth. Salacious stories be damned: this is better than any page six bullshit could cover, his strong body settled between your widened legs, his long fingers curled in the warm comforts of your body. He breathes you in, drinks you up.

Your whiskey soaked tactlessness is divine tonight. It offers a heady respite from the impending dark cloud of his self doubt. He doesn’t even mind that you don’t realize how gloomy this shit makes him. He feels like one of those goddamn characters in Sunset Boulevard, switching between the dead bloodied man floating in the pool of his own ambition, and the frenzied, forgotten actress with the warm gun of delusion in her hands. He hates that he’s miserable over his fucking shitty movie, and he’s so hard it’s embarrassing, and a little confusing, and you’re beginning to squirm and he wonders if maybe his tongue might make you shake and—-

“Dieter!”

You dig crescent shaped imprints on the pale, freckled skin of his shoulders. His tongue makes you shout–better than he could’ve ever hoped for. It’s the ego boost he needs. Plus, you’re so goddamn wet that it’s coating his chin and he’s only just got on his knees. That’s nice, too.

He licks up to your swollen clit, tonguing it until you let out delightful little mewls and writhe beneath him. When you close your legs around his head, he lets out a moan. You taste like the closest thing to penitence he’ll ever get. He could eat your pussy all night if you let him. Really. There’s some things he knows for certain, some things even bad fucking movies and a deflating ego can’t rob him of, and his love for this is one of them. The act of spreading a woman apart and eating her like she’s ripe pickings from the Garden of Eden almost drives him to romanticism sometimes. He is sure he could write poetry about this. He bets your pussy’d look so pretty on a canvas. He’s never drawn a pussy from memory, but he’s gonna try it tomorrow and—

“Are you okay?” you rasp, looking down at him with a frown.

Well, maybe it can rob me of this, he thinks bitterly.

Your grip turns more forgiving in his hair, your fingers sympathetically pushing his locks back from his face. He comes up, his slick-glistened lips forming into what you suspect is meant to be a reassuring grin. It looks more like a grimace. You run a thumb affectionately over his cheek and he groans, pushing it off with his shoulder. He positions himself back between your legs. When you pull at his hair again, trying to get him to look at you, he winces sharply.

“Dammit,” he mutters, dark eyes deep wells of glazed frustration. “If I don’t make you cum I’m going to jump out of the window,” he deadpans.

You’ve always hated the kind of people who make you wonder what’s a joke and what’s not, because it’s a constant commotion of miscommunication. Life becomes a bad joke, a joke that is in constant need of explaining, and you’ve never liked that. Dieter is the sort that seems to be hanging on the edge of I don’t know, the kind who seems to be supplanting real answers for half funny, half serious ones. The uncertainty he posits is a product of the uncertainty he feels - you can tell already - but you’re not exactly enthused to decipher him for the rest of your life.

You frown. You’d only met him under strobe lights not even two months ago, shouting over the music to get to know one another. He had tasted of stale cigarettes and early morning remorse, and he’d taken you in the women’s bathroom, pressed you against the bathroom stall, and fucked you with bruising intensity. Then he had written his number on the palm of your hand, and kissed you chastely on the mouth after it was all over. There’s no future here. You won’t be deciphering anything.

“Sit on my face,” he implores. Dieter delivers the sentence like he’s asking you if he can hold your hand. His fingers grip at your thighs and his breath grazes the inside of your legs. When he presses his lips to the side of your cunt, you close your eyes against the sensation. He tongues the spot, laughing shakily as you ease underneath him. Your hips press forward and he takes it as acceptance. “Or don’t,” he says. His tongue teases at your lips, and you can hear the grin in his tone when he says, “I’ll eat you out like this. That’s just fine, too.” His tongue nudges into your opening and you gasp. Your hand finds his hair again. “But tell me you want it.”

His lips press to the side of your pussy again. You gush involuntarily at the sound of a husky voice, at the way he hovers over you with the promise of more.

“Mm.” You look down your body at him, making eye contact as he presses kisses closer and closer to your glistening clit. He nods his head at you, encouraging you as he begins twirling his tongue around the area. “Actors are so goddamn self absorbed,” you say. He nods wordlessly again, smiling against your skin. He doesn’t tongue your clit, though. You want him badly to take it into his mouth. To suck—

“Fuck, please,” you plead. “I want it.”

His eyes glimmer. You feel his hot breath all over you, and can hardly stand the sensation of it. You want to ride his face, make him bring you to orgasm your own way. You nearly forget his sad, petulant attitude in your impatience.

He takes your clit in his mouth, sucks eagerly as you stroke your nipple through the thin cotton of your dress. Dieter is greedy even in his giving, taking as much of you as you’ll let him. He enters a finger into you—a finger that goes in with an embarrassing ease—and then another when you moan lewdly into the enclosed air of this someone else’s bathroom. His face moves with your hips, letting you rock against the rhythm his own fingers set. You moan his name and he goes faster, and you feel on the brink of imploding.

Your eyes close and you focus on his mouth, and the fury with which he works at your swollen clit, and you think of his fingers, and the way your cunt clenches around them, large as they are. As you cum against his mouth with an unapologetically guttural moan, he surprises you with the seriousness of his intent—how he does not look up at you or smirk against you, but works devoutly at building another orgasm up. You grip the edge of the sink and your head thuds against the mirror as it lolls back. The glass reverberates but neither of you care; your ass is gradually rising off the counter and his body is rising up, one of his legs kneeled on the ground and the other one hovering. He makes you cum again in a matter of seconds.

In between your second and third orgasm, his belt buckle jingles open and he’s risen all the way up. He comes up for air, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and then he kisses you on the mouth. He’s wet with your juices down to his chin and he’s not afraid to spread the taste of you against your tongue. There’s a drop of pre-cum wetting the blue of his tight boxer shorts. You grab onto his jean loops and jostle him closer. He comes without protest.

“You shouldn’t ask a man how he feels when he’s eating you out,” he tells you. His head is pressed against your chest and he’s looking down at himself, at the way his cock is strained in his boxers. He’s hard as hell. He looks back up at you with intense eyes. “It’s likely he feels pretty fucking good.”

“Shut up,” you groan. You stuff your hand down the front of his open jeans and his neutrality fades into a smirk. His hips jerk as you palm him and he whimpers, desperate as ever. You fist his hair, driving his neck back so you can kiss along the column of his throat. “The movie wasn’t even that fucking bad,” you tell him. He laughs and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips. You suck at the skin there. If he minds, he doesn’t say. His eye lashes flutter against his cheeks and he happily grinds against your hand. You think you could make him beg, if you wanted. You think maybe he wants to.

You withdraw your touch suddenly and he whimpers, pupils blown wide with desire. He goes from confused to uncertain. “What?—“

“Ground,” you command. He nods curtly.

He peels off his jeans and underwear on his way down to the cold, sterile tile, making no qualms about being bare ass naked on his employer’s bathroom floor. They are downstairs and they’re partying, and even if they weren’t he wouldn’t give a damn anyway. That’s the appeal of him, isn't it? It’s why the public buys the magazines and watches the movies he’s in. Dieter is a brilliant train wreck and they want to see.

That movie they put him in was so goddamn commercial and so heartless, and so contrived. He hopes he gets cum on the black shower mat because of what they’ve done to him.

“I’ve got no condom,” he tells you suddenly, remembering. This had been so spur of the moment. A hand on your knee under the table turned to a hand in your underwear and suddenly you were both up here. His face scrunches up, waiting for rejection.

He supposes he could make do, maybe just ask you to talk to him while he masturbates this hard-on away. Are you into that sort of thing? He supposes it’s a little exhibitionist, and he knows that’s not everyone’s cup of tea but—

You don’t seem to give a shit. You straddle his hips and look down at him. You’re still a little loopy from your orgasms but confident in your approach-confident that he wants this badly as you think he does and goddamnit if you’re not right. He ought to be responsible and ask you the slew of questions responsible people ask before they bury their cocks into nice women such as yourself. Birth control? Have you fucked anyone else and do you think they might’ve given you something? When’s your birthday? Middle name? But he doesn’t. He breathes steadily beneath you, excited and so fucking worked up he’s afraid the first heavenly push into you might be the last one if you’re not careful with him.

He doesn’t even know if you won’t tell the paps about this. Maybe you will. Maybe the price of this will be a magazine spread featuring a bad airport photo of him and the headline “DIETER BRAVO OUT OF CONTROL: L.A. FLING TELLS ALL.” And this L.A. fling will know all, will have everything to tell. In a matter of seconds he tries to decide what kind of person you are. He softens a bit, and you notice immediately, and that fresh Hollywood self pity is back and he softens some more.

Before you can ask if he’s okay again, he heaves a telling sigh. “Too much or not enough drugs,” is his response. It was good while it lasted. What’s the worst that can tell them now? That he eats pussy to make up for his drug induced impotence on bad days?

You look confused, maybe even a little wounded. No, you are wounded. He squeezes your hip as if to say “You did your best” and this hurt flashes more visibly across your face. Well.

“Coward,” you tell him. His eyebrows raise to his hairline.

“Hm?” he answers.

You lean down, whisper it to him. “You’re a self pitying coward. It’s not the drugs. You’re making yourself miserable.”

“Listen—“ he starts indignantly, but you shake your head. Oddly, he’s getting stiff again. This has been the most embarrassing night of his whole fucking life—and perhaps the most telling.

You look down between your bodies, pleased. “My theory was right.”

“Please,” he groans, “no more or I’m going to kill myself for real.”

You laugh and it’s so genuine and that he laughs too, despite himself. You might be laughing at him for all he knows but it doesn’t feel like it. He decides once and for all, looking at you, watching you, that you won’t tell about this or about anything. If you wanted to, you would’ve already. And most importantly, he simply doesn’t want to believe you could be someone like that. He isn’t a coward. Not all the time. He takes a chance on you, here, now.

“Are you on birth control?” he asks. You nod your head. “Have you been tested lately?” You nod your head again. He smiles. “Do you like me? Check yes or no.”

You check yes — or at least he thinks. You kiss him tenderly, more tenderly than is good for him, and you both fall back into your hurried, lust riddled motions. You take his growing hard on in your hand and guide him into you. You lean your forehead on his and let him sheath himself inside of you. He goes slowly, wincing against the warmth of you squeezing around him. It feels so fucking good—dangerously good. He forgets about the stupid movie and the bosses down stairs and all that miserable shit about ruining their rugs.

“Do you like it when I’m mean to you?” you whisper, once he’s fully inside. He looks at you, amused, and shrugs his shoulders.

“I don’t know. Seems like it.”

“Do you think you’d like if…If I was controlling?”

He hums against your shoulder, bringing your body closer to his. “How so?” he asks. He begins guiding your hips, lifting you gently off his cock and slowly back down.

“Make you beg,” you say quietly. “Maybe call you names, if you want. Maybe tell you how good you are when I think you’re good.”He twitches inside of you and you smile. He smiles too.

“Actors are so self absorbed,” he jokes.

“Your movie wasn’t bad,” you assure again, more kindly. He doesn’t respond. He kisses the place between your neck and your shoulder. You quicken the pace that you ride him in and he nods gratefully, sighing softly. His knees draw up and you reposition slightly, feeling him more deeply inside of you as you grind back down into him.

“Do you want to cum?” you ask him. You drive your hips up, gripping onto the hands he has on your hips, making him move in your slow, teasing pace once again. He bites at his bottom lip and doesn’t respond. You stop moving. He flashes his eyes up at you, annoyed and aroused and vaguely infatuated. “Of course,” he breathes out.

“Tell me,” you taunt back. You resist when he tries to move you back down and he groans, but you feel him twitch in you again.

“I know you want me to fuck you too,” he counters.

“Sure,” you nod, “But remember: I’ve already cum three times and you’ve cum none. I think I can withhold far longer than you.”

He can’t help but smirk. That’s not good enough for you. You want him far gone for you, incoherent practically. You rise off his cock completely and he lurches forward, groaning. “No!” he says. “I want to cum!” he says, pawing at you. “Please!”

You hover over his glistening cock and pout. “Didn’t seem like it,” you taunt, moving your hips over him but not touching. His lips part but no words come out. “I want it to seem like it. You’re a big boy, Bravo and you can use your words, can’t you? I hate a man who can’t use his words—who’s afraid to.” You lean down, close to his ear. “I hate a coward.”

“I—I can use my words,” he stutters. His fingers brush against your hips. “Please, just climb back on me and keep riding me. I—I need that.”

“Tell me.”

“Fuck,” he grunts. “I need it so bad.”

You grab his cock, stroke it lazily. “Again,” you say. His face twists up in what could be either pleasure or pain and he says, “Please. I need it. Need you.”

He’s as hard and desperate as he was before. You kiss him hard on the mouth and allow him to take over again, guiding you down onto him this time. He flips you over, lays you down against the ground, and drives into you. You gasp and he smiles like he’s won a prize.

“Can I—“ he fills you to the hilt. “—is it alright if I…Can I cum in you?”

You nod your head. He looks at you and you understand he wants more than just a nod. “Yes,” you answer.

It doesn’t take much more than that. He gathers up your legs, drives into you with one or two more inspired thrusts, and then he’s growing rigid against your body, hot spurts of his cum filling you. He exhales softly into your neck. You think he might apologize for a moment but he doesn’t. Instead he thanks you.

“Feel better?” you ask. He nods.

“Much,” he says. “Hell—I might really be starting to think that the movie wasn’t so bad.” When he looks at you, you can tell he’s kidding.

“Well,” you joke back, “At least even the bad movies get you fucked, huh?”

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