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doumadono · 6 months

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Turbulent temptations - Choso x Reader

Warnings: smut - oral (f & m receiving, 69), doggy style, fingering, rough p in v, angst, f!Reader, boyfriend!Choso Synopsis: Choso and you engaged in a heated disagreement, culminating in an incredibly steamy moments

MASTERLIST

An atmosphere thick with tension hung in the air. Choso, the tall and muscular Death Painting Womb, stood before you, his piercing purple eyes ablaze with a mixture of anger and frustration. His jet-black hair was wild and unruly. He was a formidable presence, but tonight, he was more than intimidating.

You, a mere human, stood your ground, refusing to let him dictate your every move. His controlling tendencies had escalated to a breaking point, and tonight's argument was the culmination of weeks of mounting resentment. "You can't keep doing this, Choso," you said, your voice wavering but determined. "I won't let you control every aspect of my life. I need my independence."

Choso clenched his fists, his muscles tensing as he struggled to keep his temper in check. His lips curled into a snarl. "You don't understand, do you, my little weakling? I do it because I care about you. I'm trying to protect you from this cruel world."

You shook your head, your own temper flaring. "Protecting me is one thing, Choso, but suffocating me is another. I can't breathe in this relationship if you're always watching my every move."

Choso's face contorted in frustration. His cheeks flushed, contrasting sharply with his pale complexion. "I can't help it. It's in my nature. I've lost people I cared about, and I can't bear to lose you too."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step closer to him. "Choso, I love you, but love can't thrive in an environment of control and jealousy. We need to find a balance, or we'll destroy what we have!"

"Y/N, I won't give up on protecting you because that's the only way I can be sure you're safe. You should be grateful!"

"Shut the hell up, Choso! Fuck you!" You practically screamed the last two words and delivered a forceful punch to his chest.

He blinked and seized you by the throat, his stature towering over you. He had long surpassed you in size and strength. His hand closed around your delicate neck, and he tightened his grip, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as fear instantly flooded your eyes. "If you ever lay a hand on me like that again," Choso seethed, his voice dripping with anger, "I won't hesitate to put you in your place." With that, he released his grip on you, and you stumbled, collapsing to the floor.

He moved towards you with a slow, deliberate pace, sending a shiver down your spine.

As you retreated, you found yourself backing up past your couch, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I don't know what it is about you," Choso uttered in a hushed tone that sent a chill through your bones. "You're driving me insane." He closed the gap until he was just a few feet away, and you couldn't help but tremble.

You remained silent, a mix of emotions boiling within you. Your face grew flushed, your fists clenched at your sides, and your teeth ground together in frustration. Choso's predatory gaze roved over your body, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Anger surged through your mind, but your pussy ached, and in that moment, you despised yourself.

Finally, his eyes locked onto yours, and he advanced another step, a dark intensity in his gaze that made it clear he had no intention of letting you escape his grasp.

He grabbed your upper arms. His grip on you was a vice, a sudden and unyielding force that left you frozen in place. Choso's voice dripped with a chilling intensity as he snarled, his breath hot against your face, his eyes smoldering with a dangerous fire. "What are you gonna do?" The question hung in the air, heavy with an ominous promise. "I can take whatever I desire, whether you resist or not. So, what are you going to do? Scream? Fight me again? Beg for me to stop?"

Your defiance met his unyielding demeanor, and a silence thick with tension enveloped you both. You chose not to scream; words seemed futile in that charged moment. Instead, you defied his expectations and, with determination, rose onto your tiptoes, meeting his dangerous gaze. Without uttering a single word, you pressed your lips against his.

Choso's initial stillness and lack of response was deafening, a tension hanging in the air that was thicker than the darkest of clouds. But then, with a fierce intensity, he pulled you into a messy kiss that left your mind reeling.

Your thoughts raced as desire burned within you, an undeniable craving for him, an unspoken but unmistakable need that coursed through your veins. Your teeth grazed menacingly against his lower lip, sinking in for a harsh bite.

Choso's eyebrow shot up in shock, his grip on you loosening involuntarily.

Seizing the opportunity, you used your newfound freedom to forcefully shove him away. He stumbled backward and tumbled onto your couch, a mix of confusion and irritation flashing across his features. "The fuck…" Choso began, but you didn't let him finish.

With a predatory grace, you closed the distance between you, straddling his lap with an unmistakable air of dominance. The fabric of your skirt rode up your thighs, exposing a tantalizing expanse of skin against his robe.

You could feel his cock starting to harden beneath you, and you leaned forward, your lips almost against his as you stared straight at Choso. "Despite all of my anger and frustration, I still need you."

With a self-assured grin curling at the edges of his lips, Choso gently pushed you away, rising to his feet. He swiftly shed his clothes, and you mirrored his actions, discarding your own attire. The inexplicable rush of desire had taken you by surprise, and you couldn't help but wonder if his cursed powers were weaving their enchantment on your mind. Yet, at that moment, you couldn't find it in yourself to care - all you craved was Choso.

Your eyes drank in the sight before you.

He stood there fully naked, finally. Choso was facing you so you could see it all: his chest - strong and broad, his abs - perfectly toned, and his cock - thick and hard, precum dripping from the tip. He was the most handsome being you had ever seen in your life.

Soon, Choso was propped up on his elbows, looking at you, running the tip of his tongue along his upper lip; the head of his cock was nearly purple as his irises and the precum was literally dripping down his shaft - his excitement mirrored your own, unmistakable in his demeanor.

With a mischievous smile, you gracefully made your way onto the couch, letting your hair cascade around Choso's face as you descended to kiss him. His response was eager as he met your lips, and you allowed him to deepen the kiss, savoring the electric connection between you, before gently drawing back. "Let's find out if you can employ that tongue more effectively," you whispered, and with a swift movement, you were straddling his face.

Choso needed no further encouragement. Without hesitation, he dove into his task, sensually caressing your pussy with his tongue. Your reaction was immediate - a contented sigh escaping your lips as he expertly teased your cunt. As he continued, he gently sucked on your engorged clit, drawing a surprised moan from your lips. Unable to contain your desire, you began to move your hips back and forth, pressing your wet entrance against his eager mouth. Choso's skillful tongue danced along your slick folds, teasing the entrance to your throbbing core, ocassionally licking a long stripe along your slit. He lapped at your pussy like a starved man. Choso placed a few tiny kisses to your clitoris, eventually nudging the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. As your body responded with increasing fervor, he intensified his efforts, skillfully pleasuring your clit with his mouth. Waves of pleasure cascaded through your being, your fingers toying with your nipples as he lavished attention on your dripping pussy.

You shifted away from his face briefly, repositioning yourself to lean down and engage with his arousal. Afterward, you eased your wet pussy back onto his waiting mouth, and Choso responded eagerly, lavishing attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Simultaneously, you leaned closer to his hardened length, and with one dainty hand, you enveloped his throbbing shaft, commencing a leisurely and tantalizing rhythm of movement.

Choso groaned into your dripping cunt and the noise sent vibrations through your slick pussy. You moaned and stuck out your tongue, licking the precum off his tip. Choso's hips bucked as you did, and you licked up and down his shaft before finally taking him into your warm, welcoming mouth.

You could sense the mounting tension in the room as his deep, guttural groans resonated in the air. His hips subtly shifted, syncing with the rhythm of your movements as you pleasured him. Choso's commitment to your desires didn't waver, his attention unwavering as he devoured your cunt. But as you dared to take him deeper into your mouth, his reaction was palpable - his head tilted back, a primal sound escaping his throat as he drove his hips upwards, urging his hardness further into your welcoming throat. You gagged yourself around his cock, and found it impossible to stifle your emotions - tears streamed down your cheeks as you carefully bobbed your head, cupping his balls with your free palm, squeezing them slowly.

Choso let out a deep, sensuous moan as he spat on your slit. His intent was to ensure you were drenched, and he proceeded to resume his delicate attentions. With tantalizing tenderness, he showered your slit with gentle, kitten-like licks that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your entire being. He occasionally enveloped your soft, plump lips within the warm embrace of his mouth after sucking them in.

Soon, you withdrew your mouth from his throbbing dick, releasing it with a soft, satisfying pop sound. You gracefully moved away from Choso's face, letting the charged atmosphere linger in the room.

"I nearly forgot the exquisite sensations of human pleasures," Choso remarked, his voice laced with surprise.

He wasted no time at all. Choso gently encouraged you to recline on your side on the plush couch. His fingers traced a voluptuous path from your side, along your thigh, and ultimately, between your legs. His focus was unwavering, and he began to tease your slick folds. Choso, with a witching vehemence, urged you to circle your arm around his neck, causing you to partially turn your upper body towards him. As your eyes met, he lavished attention on your breasts, his lips finding their way to one of your sensitive nipples. Contemporaneously, his skilled fingers delved deep into your sopping cunt, kindling a conflagration of passion and pleasure that consumed you fully.

"Ch-Choso!" You couldn't help but whine his name.

His tongue gently traced circles around your sensitive bud, and he playfully nibbled at it. Choso's fingers moved in a rhythmic motion, thrusting in and out of your cunny, inching you close to the brink of an ecstatic release.

The sensations were already sending delightful shivers throughout your body, and your soft, enticing moans coupled with the rhythmic grinding of your hips against his skilled hand only fueled Choso's desire. As your bodies moved in harmony, his palm expertly pressed against your aroused clit, intensifying the sensations as you eagerly responded to his every touch.

You found yourself perched precariously on the precipice of ecstasy, your body quivering with anticipation. With each passing moment, the intensity of your desire grew, and you knew that you were on the brink of an earth-shattering climax. It was the final touch, the masterful stroke of Choso's hand against your swollen, throbbing clit, that sent you hurtling into a tidal wave of pleasure.

"Oh, Choso!!!" Your body convulsed, an intense orgasm surging through you like a tempest, causing your hips to buck uncontrollably against his skillful touch. In the throes of ecstasy, you couldn't help but cry out, your head arching backward in sheer pleasure. "Yes, yes, yes, fuck!"

As the waves of pleasure began to recede, you felt Choso's hand, now tender and gentle, delicately caressing your sensitive, slick folds. You were left panting, your senses still tingling from the electrifying experience.

His throbbing dick pressed firmly against your ass as Choso's lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Your bodies radiated heat, drawing you closer together. In a moment of desire, he deftly maneuvered, lifting your leg and guiding it over his hip. Choso continued to press against you, and as your lips locked in a sensual embrace, the tip of his dick found its way between your slick folds.

A soft moan escaped your lips, your voice barely able to contain the passion that surged through you. "Oh, Choso!"

With each movement, he explored your neck with his lips, savoring the taste of your skin, while the intensity of your connection deepened, creating a symphony of desire and pleasure between you.

He moved his hips with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm, rocking back and forth in a sensual dance of desire. Every motion he made was slow. With each thrust, he found an opportunity to run his tongue along the column of your neck, heightening the intensity of your passion while his fervor drove you to ecstasy.

"Harder, Choso, harder, please…" You were moaning.

Some time later, he withdrew, prompting you to shift your position. You settled on all fours, your ass end provocatively arched upward.

He approached from behind, the tip of his dick making contact with your slick entrance.

You could sense it, delicately seeking access to your tight, inviting cunt, and you reciprocated by sensually wriggling back against him.

His shaft glided smoothly into your drenched haven, and he inched in gradually, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he felt your warmth envelop him. "Fuck."

A sensual moan escaped your lips as you felt him filling you completely, his pulsating, rigid length nestled deep within your core.

"Oh, Y/N," he gasped, his voice laden with desire. Choso's strong hands gripped your hips, initiating a slow, tantalizing rhythm, guiding you back and forth onto his throbbing cock. However, this leisurely pace didn't persist for long. He skillfully maneuvered one hand around your form, cupping your breasts, while his other hand found its way to your sensitive clit. With fervor, he began to thrust into you with an intensity that left you both breathless and consumed by passion.

"Ammmmpppp- fuck!" You groaned, pressing your head to the armrest.

He let out a deep, primal wail, and your breath caught as he passionately fucked you. The rhythmic sound of his balls slapping against your plush ass reverberated in the air, creating an intoxicating symphony. His every thrust found that sweet, sensitive spot within you, igniting waves of pleasure as the tip of his dick massaged that spongy place. Simultaneously, his skilled fingers danced over your sensitive clitoris, sending electric pulses of ecstasy through your body, while his teasing grip on your hardened nipples pushed you ever closer to a euphoric bliss.

"So good and so tight, fuck, Y/N, fuck," Choso moaned behind you, his head roled back a little. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum."

In an instant, Choso quivered with intensity, delivering one last powerful thrust into the depths of your wetness. The force of his movement was so overwhelming that it caused you to lose your balance, making you stagger forward. At that very moment, you could feel the scorching heat of his hot seed spurt into your cunt, filling you completely. It was this ecstatic rush that tipped you over the edge, igniting a second climax that surpassed the first in its sheer intensity.

Your inner muscles clenched tightly around Choso's remarkable length, coaxing out every last drop of his cum, which surged forth, spilling into your longing cunt. The sheer elatedness of the moment left you both gasping, lost in the intoxicating throes of passion.

After an exhilarating encounter, the two of you found yourselves on the couch, both panting heavily. You reclined on your back, the rise and fall of your chest mirroring your deep, labored breaths. Choso, his own breath ragged, turned over and nestled his head gently against your bosom, seeking solace in the tender connection you shared.

"You're fucking amazing," he stated. "I believe I should encourage you to engage in more argments with me," he quipped, a playful glint in his eye. "You're becoming incredibly passionate afterward, my sweet Y/N."

Tagging: @roast-toast @bestliarr

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redbloodrosary · 1 month

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"So, we'll go no more a roving

So late into the night

Though the heart be still as loving

And the moon be still as bright"

Lord Byron, 1817

#gothic #southern goth aesthetic #southern gothic #dark aesthetic #louisiana #religious art #rural america #rural gothic #goth aesthetic #cemetery #poetry #lord byron

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luveline · 5 months

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this is kinda self indulgent but a few hours ago i was trying to fix some problems with my email and im not tech savvy so i was frustrated and at that point i just cried and gave up LMAO can we get that with a comforting remus☺️☺️ i totally get if you'll refuse this request but if ever you take the time to write this thank you so much🫶❤️❤️

modern au

“I don't know how to do it,” you say. You're walking that fine line between frustration and upset, paralysed, and when you talk the emotion in your voice is obvious.

Remus perks up, which is to say he hears it and immediately comes to attention. “Do what, dove?”

“I can't fix this email thing, I thought I fixed it, but it's still broken.”

Remus is about as tech savvy as you are, which isn't very. He uses his laptop for Microsoft Word and Scrivener; he barely opens his emails. “I can have a look?” he offers anyways.

Remus sits on the bench beside you at the kitchen table and pulls your laptop toward him. You have a hard time telling him the problem, all choked up with heat and wishing it would fix itself, “I probably messed it up myself but nothing comes up when I search for it and I just don't understand it.”

He does a couple of the things that you'd already tried with no success. At your wits end, you stand up from the bench thinking you'll make yourself a drink, a burning lump in your throat as you grab a glass from the draining board and fill it with water.

“I'm sorry, dove, I don't think I'm gonna do it. I'll ring Mary.”

“It's okay.” You press your hand to your eyes. It's not okay, you're fed up and tired and you hate using the laptop. “Why is everything so difficult?”

“Dove–”

“I don't care, it can stay broken.” Unbidden, a furious tear races down your cheek.

You glare at the glass of water in your hand and put it down in the sink. Remus makes his sound, that loving hum of sympathy as he stands to sidle up behind you. “It's alright,” he says, testing the waters with a hand on your shoulder.

You slouch at his touch and he takes it for the go ahead, wrapping his arms around you from the back, his chin pressed to the skin just shy of your eye. “Don't be upset, lovely,” he encourages, hands roving up and down the front of you gently. “We'll fix it. Just take a breath.”

“I don't know why it won't work,” you say, trying to be more angry than upset.

“I'm sure we'll figure it out. You've been on the laptop for hours, why don't we go sit down and watch the telly for a bit?” He takes one of your hands, holds it to your chest as he curves in around you. “Please don't wind yourself up. I'll get someone to fix it, okay? It's not the end of the world.”

You know it isn't, but this is nice. You turn in his embrace for a proper chest-to-chest hug, wiping your tears dry in his shoulder. “You sound so sad when you sniffle,” he whispers, chuckling fondly as you do.

“Sorry. I'm just annoyed.”

“I know. It'll be fine, don't stress out about it.” His hands fan out over your shoulders, an encompassment physically that mirrors the warmth of his vocal comfort, the mild roughness of his voice and the care put into each word.

He always cares about things, even when they're small in the grand scheme. “Thank you for trying to fix it,” you say into his shoulder. “I feel better knowing there wasn't an easy solution.”

“Well, there might be. Or we're both idiots,” he jokes.

You laugh wetly, hooking your chin over his shoulder. “Maybe.” You sigh, feeling much less heavy than you had. “At least we're idiots together.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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elexuscal · 5 months

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[redacted]

Un-Redacted

As Dr. Ayda Mensah discussed various colony evacuation options, a small removed part of her considers the command deck of The Perihelion. It possessed plush, comfortable chairs, a pleasing blue and white colour scheme, easily readable displays, and multiple clear exits. All told, on her internal ranking of Places To Be Making Life Or Death Decisions, it warranted a solid third place. (An even more removed part of her gave a wry laugh at her possession of such a list.)

"We were prepared to house a significant portion of the colonist population aboard, at least in an interim capacity," crew-member Iris was saying. "Obviously, though, the contamination situation means that isn't viable, so we'll--"

SecUnit stood up.

Ayda caught the movement out of the corner of her eyes. Honed instinct whipped her head around. SecUnit was tensed, its expression startled, alarmed.

Scared.

Blood rushing, Ayda's white-knuckled hands gripped the edge of her chair. "SecUnit, what's wrong?"

By the time she'd finished saying the words-- almost faster than she can see, faster than she could blink-- it was already at the other side of the room.

All conversation had stopped. The Perihelion had looked up from their paperwork, and even Pin-Lee had dredged herself from the legal documentation, the group collectively trying not to stare and not quite succeeding. Other people began repeating the same questions, asking if there was some danger, but Ayda could barely hear it, could barely feel her own body.

What now. What could possible have gone wrong now?

[SecUnit?] she asked.

It didn't respond.

Its expression had evolved past alert, past panic, to something wild. Its eyes were roving around the room, as if tracking something she couldn't see. Its drones were doing the same-- or were trying to. One fell out of the air, then a second, clunk, clunk. And still it wouldn't respond.

"What? What's going on?" And Amena's voice over the calm cut through the noise like no one else's could. "Has something happened?"

"Unclear." Remarkable, how steady her voice is. "SecUnit's responding to something, but we can't tell what."

Captain Seth prompted, "Any insights, Perihelion?"

[Our situation remains stable,] the ship's AI intoned. [SecUnit is sending warning alerts in the feed, but they appear distorted and irrelevant to the situation at hand. Further communication attempts are not being received.]

"Why not!?"

Despite the abject terror on SecUnit's face, it wasn't trembling. It never trembled.

[Unclear,] Perihelion echoed.

At some point in the exchange, Ayda had gotten to her feet. But of all of them, the crew-member Matteo had been sitting closest to where SecUnit now stood, and they were the one to reach it first. "Hey there buddy," they said, voice and gestures placating. "Can you hear me--"

A blur, a woosh.

When the scene resolved itself, Three had SecUnit pressed against the wall, holding itself between Matteo and the other SecUnit.

Her mind reeled, trying to piece together what had happened, but it was all too fast. Had SecUnit done something threatening, or had Three simply assumed--?

Now SecUnit was pressed into the kind of hold that would threaten a choke a human, but it wasn't fighting back. Not really. Ayda knew what that would look like, knew its speed and brutality, and this wasn't it. Instead SecUnit was flailing, kicking ineffectually, or trying to, letting out a sound terribly close to a whine--

"Three," Ayda barked. "Let it go."

Voice muffled slightly, Three began, "It is not advisable--"

"GET AWAY!" SecUnit shouted, "GET OFF, GET OFF, GET OFF--"

Perihelion ordered, [Let. It. Go.]

Three let SecUnit go.

"SecUnit!" Ayda said, rushing towards it, but stopping herself before she got too close into its personal face.

It had fallen to the ground when Three had dropped it, and now was clambering unsteadily to its feet. Ayda had seen it more graceful after literally being pummelled by reprogrammed assassins. "Coldstone," she said, and this time something got through, because its gaze steadied on her.

"Dr. Mensah?'

"Yes, yes, I'm here."

"You can't--" it began, and then jerked backwards, towards the door. "You need to-- we need to--"

"We need to what?"

And it bolted.

It would have hit the door head on, if it hadn't slid open at the last minute.

Ayda stared after her friend. Then she moved.

[Dr. Mensah.] Perihelion's voice in her head was cool and collected as she ran down its cooridors. [SecUnit is undergoing a major systems failure of unknown cause. A full reboot is recommended. Do I have permission to proceed?]

Permission?

Right. Yes. Because she was SecUnit's guardian, its owner, and therefore, the closest thing it had to a medical proxy.

[That will help?]

[There is a >93% chance.]

[Permission granted.]

SecUnit slowed, then stopped. A soft chime. Then it went limp. It slumped onto the floor. SecUnit Three, who of course had rushed ahead of her, caught it as it slumped to the floor.

Ayda cringed as she came to a stop, forcing herself not to reach out and take her friend from Three's arms.

The others were hot on her trail. "What the fuck--" exclaimed one of the crewmen, Ayda couldn't remember who just then-- "Was that?"

<Unknown,> Perihelion said.

But Ayda knew. Or thought she knew.

She had recognised that terror, that disorientation. Recognised it from the mirror, from the stories her partners told, of waking up screaming in the night, from the too-many times she had cried herself ragged. The way SecUnit hadn't responded to them, how it had seemingly reacted to things which weren't there.

That had been a flashback.

#murderbot diaries #system collapse #murderbot spoilers #redacted

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craftycoola · 10 months

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plans for tdf '23

Y'ALL. it's time. it's an excuse to spin more. it's tour de fleece.

spinning!me is super disorganized -- i only own one (1) spinning tool (a drop spindle) -- so i'm fully prepared for a we'll-burn-that-bridge-when-we-get-to-it kind of tdf. that's not stopping me from having Plans (TM), though!

in the interest of not ruining everyone's feeds, i'm going to keep yelling below the cut.

(also, if you don't want my hopefully-daily updates on spinning, i'll be tagging everything with #tour de fleece and #tour de fleece 2023 if you want to block)

in general, i want to spin and post progress every day. i've attempted to do daily progress things on instagram, but i always chicken out because of the Aesthetics (TM). here on the hellsite i can only hope that i will not be such a terrible pedant about lighting.

PROJECT 1: MERINO/SILK FRACTAL 3-PLY

first off is finishing what's on my spindle right now. i've got about 1/3 of a ply left to go on a fingering-weight fractal 3-ply spin in merino/silk (dyed by emily c gillies for luck of the draw december 2022). i've been working on this for WAYY too long; i started spinning it in, uhh, february.

here's the breakdown of the milestones i want to hit:

07/01: finish spinning the ply

07/02: wind a plying ball and start plying

07/04: finish plying

PROJECT 2: PERUVIAN WOOL 3-PLY

next up is another wip... kind of. i'm working on a sweater quantity of handspun -- i have one skein finished, but the rest of it has been on hold while the merino/silk takes up the spindle.

this yarn is a dk-weight 3-ply in a heathered fiber (knit picks wool of the andes roving in indigo heather). i have some leftovers on two of my makeshift bobbins from my first skein, so i'm hoping i can just slide the cops back onto my spindle and connect new fiber.

i have 800 g of the fiber, and will probably need at least 700 g for the sweater project, so... i think this should probably take the rest of the month (and beyond).

nonetheless...

PROJECT 3: DORSET WOOL CHAIN PLY

i have two GORGEOUS 100 g braids of dorset (again from emily c gillies' luck of the draw, this time for june 2023). there's an orange/pink/purple/blue gradient, and there's a coordinating pastel green/blue/purple/brown tonal.

i want to spin both up into lace/fingering-weight yarns to combine in a knitted project. to preserve the gradient, that'll get chain-plied, and i think i'll do the same on the tonal just for consistency (and because how does anyone split braids in 3???)

~~~

and i'm pretty sure there will be absolutely no time for anything else, so. that's a wrap for my @a-tour-de-fleece plans!

#tour de fleece #tour de fleece 2023 #emily c gillies #merino/silk #lotd 12/22 #knit picks #wool of the andes #wota roving #indigo heather #dorset #lotd 06/23 #craftblr #spinning #handspinning

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prolix-yuy · 2 years

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Congratulations again LJ for 500 followers! May I please request Pero and Companionship as salvation? I loved your Pero drabble and would love to read more of this grumpy man 😘 Thank you for gifting us with this celebration, how you spoil us ❤️

Look at that grumpy man! This ask got me ruminating on their history together. We'll get to the day after their fight soon enough, but let's see how they came to know each other, and what led up to that night in the tavern.

The Debt

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader (prequel to this drabble)

Summary: Pero Tovar has never been in anyone's debt. Until you.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: M, brief allusions to sexual acts, time period violence, idiots to enemies to lovers? While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: Everyone say thank you Cee for giving the perfect prompt to go down the Pero hole again (phrasing!). These two practically write themselves and I'm very excited to be sharing more of their story with you.

Pero Tovar had never been saved by anyone or anything in his life. He’s been spared once or twice, from the sickness that took his mother, or the blade that took his father. But no one had ever stood above him, blood on their hands, and put Pero in their debt.

Not until you.

William had scoffed at the two of you as you recount the tale over tavern bread and ale.

“So you were…riding in the forest, and came across Tovar…” William repeats, mirth dancing off his lips as Pero tries to scowl a new hole in his fair-haired companion’s head. You brandish a hunk of bread, using it to point at William who can barely contain his laughter.

“...surrounded by highwaymen, the foolish lot of them. And I was not planning to involve myself in that ruckus, but when they toppled this mountain…” You point the bread at Pero, who now attempts to perfect his glower in your direction. “...well, I couldn’t watch a skilled swordsman such as this be slain by some roving band of miscreants whose only advantage was manpower. So…” you say, pulling your arm back in a mockery of archery, “I felled the two waiting to strike, and beheaded the last.” William claps and you half-bow, Pero’s eye roll going unnoticed.

“And here we are,” you finish, eliciting an incredulous head shake from William and more sullen chewing from Pero.

“And now Tovar is…” William asks, a creeping smile gracing his face. You raise an eyebrow and smirk, and Pero wishes more in that moment than ever before that he’d been touched with witchcraft so he could shut you up.

“In my debt,” you crow, pointing your bread at him again. He pulls his glare up to meet your sparkling eyes. “And I intend to collect.”

His dark, heavy brow and dismissive head shake betray how he actually felt in the moment you met. The song of a blade he truly believed would end his life, dishonorably and alone, becoming the death knell of the highwayman. Pero’s labored breathing as he turned his face up to gaze upon his savior.

In the moment he saw you, he was sure he’d been killed and gifted a more glorious heaven than the stories foretold. To behold a guerrera, strong and skilled of body, rising valiantly over vanquished foes, holding a hand to him was surely how he should be welcomed into the afterlife. Not even to speak of her beauty; sharp bright eyes, a rakish smile, feminine and powerful. It wasn’t until he reached up to clasp her gloved hand and the stink of mud and horse shit brought him back to himself. He was alive, thanks to the same guerrera who now was appraising him like a stallion for purchase, even though at his full height she had to look up at him.

“You have a name, swordsman?” you asked, reaching down to pry his blade from the muck. You handed it back, raising an eyebrow as he raked his eyes over your steed, your armor.

“Pero Tovar,” he finally spat out, sheathing his sword on his back. You leaned back on one heel and regarded him with a sly smile Pero would come to dread.

“Pero Tovar, I do believe you’re in my debt,” you said, and you had been a pain in his ass ever since.

“Well, let’s drink to debts being repaid swiftly! I’m sure you have better places to be than hunting for work with my…engaging colleague,” William says, lifting his glass briefly. You tap yours with his, turning back to Pero and offering your tankard across the table.

“Oh don’t be so sour, Tovar, I’ve been a fine traveling companion, haven’t I?” you tease.

You’re not wrong; Pero had not had many companions on the road besides William, and the few men he fought with. The men were forgettable, often brash, more often dead on the other end of the job. William was a good foil to Tovar, placating when he was rough, the negotiator and the fighter. Though they still came together as brothers, William’s choices more and more likely brought him to the East and to the woman who held his heart.

You, on the other hand, were much more like traveling with a freshly-forged blade. Deadly, practical, but also fiery, and likely to scorch. Hours could be spent in silence or bickering about the craftsmanship of Pero’s axes. You’d made him laugh but also made him shout and throw up his hands in frustration. In return he’d found small ways to make you smile, and larger ways to bring your anger to the surface. The games quickened your travel, but no matter whether your tongue was sharp or soft that day, if you came across work or trouble, Pero could count on your blade to slit throats.

At first he assumed you would take your debt in protection. That was quickly dismissed when, as you pulled your horse neck and neck with his on the path, you drew and loosed an arrow so quickly Pero didn't even register the final highwayman fleeing. You were highly skilled for a woman.

"Best keep your eyes forward, Tovar, your reflexes could use the head start. Diligence might have kept you out of this mess."

You were also damned infuriating. The first day he tried to ignore you, waiting for you to either ask for coin or reveal what else you wanted from him. A few needling questions, and a few snaps of derision when you pushed too far, and you uncovered his mercenary background and his aimless search for more work.

"Well that settles it then. I'll follow you on your search, and once the chance to repay your debt reveals itself you'll be free of me. Until then," you smirked, "I could also use some coin myself, and there are worse ways to get it."

"A woman companion will be suspicious. And they will never hire you to fight," Pero scoffed, rocking with the sway of his horse's gait. You snorted, decidedly unladylike, but it didn't irk Pero the way he thought it might.

"Steel and armor speak enough for me. And if they think my cunt will get in the way, at least all my sensitive bits are easily protected." You nodded with a raised eyebrow at Pero's lap and his face burned, a scowl slashing across it.

Very unladylike. It made his heart pound uncomfortably.

So began your tentative partnership.

“It would be easier to call you a companion if your debt was not hanging over my head,” Pero grumbles, scraping his plate clean before dragging his fingers through the grease and sauce to suck into his mouth. He almost misses it - the brief flicker of your eyes to his lips - before you roll your own and put your tankard back down.

“I’m a joy to travel with, William,” you retort, popping a potato into your mouth as food and drink dwindles between you.

The debt Pero carries now is weighty, but much less so than the weight of your eyes on him in the last few weeks. He’d thought it an accident at first. You caught him dousing his head with stream water, the chilly droplets racing down his scruffy cheeks and into his collar. The strength with which you held his eyes betrayed you ever so slightly. An errant thought, that you might feel a flicker of desire for him, warmed his skin. But you were acrid the rest of the day, snappish and insisting on riding ahead, so Pero dashed it from his thoughts. Thinking with his cock again. It had been too long since he’d indulged, too thin on coin and too unwilling to dally with unwed (or wed) women when you stopped in towns.

But as the weeks went on his imagination danced with possibilities. The nights spent on watch kept you sleeping apart, but the few brief times you were able to lie side by side he basked in the heat of your back mere hands widths from his. Your smile warmed him even more, though you still infuriated him with your quick swordwork, and your quicker words.

"If all you're useful for is to be a great wall, then why not stick to a shield and axe?" you taunted, light footwork dancing you around Pero as you sparred by the fire. The fact that a woman accompanied Pero was a benefit for once. The merchant's daughter relaxed at the sight, and he paid double. A quick job completed, a simple escort between two cities, and pockets fat with coin made you playful.

"I do not need to be fast to squash you, hermana," Pero growled, his boots crushing against stones as he twisted to swing his blade. A song of steel rang out, your eyes sparkling.

"I beg to differ," you quipped back, sheathing your blade for the night.

As the days went on, your taunting filling the days and quiet contemplation supplanting the nights, Pero was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. The times he let himself long to touch you, he wondered if you would burn or soothe him. He found himself in the throes of an argument longing to pin you and silence your pretty mouth with his own. Could he repay his debt with his mouth, his fingers, his tongue?

But one night the weight of your debt was outmatched. Pero thought he spotted a fire in the distance. Fire meant a town, or people, and people meant barter. Your food stores were getting low and the light was lucky. Spurring your horses on, you made for the fire.

It was not luck you encountered that night.

A town set ablaze, people fleeing as horseback men threw torches into windows. You sat on the edge of the town, steeds side by side as you listened to the men whoop victory at the screams. One look at your face, jaw clenched tight, hand creaking against your hilt, told Pero what would be done tonight.

“Not for coin,” he said quietly, the lowest he’s even spoken to you. You turned to watch his face, your own half hidden in sooty darkness.

“For blood and blood alone,” you answered.

You were never more in tune than when you were at war. Pero’s bulk and strength could easily unseat a rider, and your speed and deadly accuracy would take his final breath. When he needed you, you were there to surprise and maim. When you needed him, he filled the space and crushed the life out of whoever raised a blade to you. There were no words needed. Your bodies knew.

When the men were disposed of, you sprang from your horse and ran into the flames, the townsfolk putting out the blazes and tending to the injured. Pero gathered the invader's horses, helped the men haul water and reinforced damaged walls. You searched for mothers and sisters, wrapped wounds and chased the final smoldering embers of the damage done.

As the silence of darkness began to blanket the town once more, Pero found you in the center. The children were speaking to you, young girls with wide eyes and boys colored with jealousy as they marveled at your armor and weaponry. You had told Pero its history, passed down from father to son until you, the only daughter of a line now ended. Technically you wore the armor in disgrace, forbidden by your father until his dying breath, but donned in his memory when you became a guide for those traveling between outposts. The children hung on your words, Pero recognizing the gestures of each story beat.

“Hermana, we should be leaving,” Pero finally interrupted, your short nod acknowledging the danger. You may have liberated this town tonight, but come the morning any weapon-wielding person in the vicinity would be at the wrath of whoever sent those men. It was best to ride far and hard to save both your skins and theirs.

Pero moved to get your horses, clapping shoulders with the men and politely nodding to the women. Their eyes roamed his broad shoulders, scarred face and large hands and he saw the adrenaline of fear transform into lust. He took his leave quickly.

When he led your horse to mount, you were still standing in the town center, looking at something in your gloved palm.

“Hermana?” he asked, coming up beside you in case you were injured.

In your palm was a small white flower, delicate petals nestled against the creases of your leathers and a thin green stem curving your palm. You looked at it like a handful of gold.

“For protecting them,” you said simply. Pero studied your profile carefully, but there were no tears, or anger, or happiness. You wore an expression closer to regret.

“You should keep it,” Pero said, pushing your hand closer to your chest. You shook your head.

“It’s too nice,” you managed to rasp out, your half-hidden emotions starting to worry him. He opened his mouth to say something - anything his unskilled tongue could conjure up - before you huffed out a breath.

“We are not made for nice things, are we Tovar?” you asked, mouth turned dryly at the wilting flower in your glove. Pero’s heart clenched. It was time for you to go.

“You take what you want, hermana. The world will not give you nice things without a fight.” Sighing, you let the paper-thin petals drop to the ground.

“I do not need anything from the world,” you retorted, leading your horse back the way you came. Pero nudged his steed to follow, watching the strong muscles of your legs and arms hoist you into the saddle. The ride from the town remained silent, the pounding of hooves and hearts all you could hear.

When you both felt you’d put enough distance at your back, Pero dismounted and began making camp. He didn’t dare build a real fire in case men were already looking, but did toss a few bits of kindling into a pile so there was enough light to move about. You went through the motions of tying up the horses, settling them for the night with a stare that worried Pero. It was too far away for something as small as this skirmish. You’d spat in the face of men trying to cut you down, dug through bodies for coin, but he had never seen you so shaken.

When you finally settled by the dwindling fire, offering first watch, Pero carefully sat behind you an arm’s length away. He intended to lie down and take the rest offered, his body screaming with stiffness. He was no longer a young man, but he still had much fight left in his bones. That fight just needed more sleep than in younger years.

“Wake me when it is my turn,” he said simply. You nodded. Then silence.

Pero should take his rest, but the stillness was still ground deep into your bones. So he waited instead, for you to think he slept or for it not to matter anymore. It was when your shoulders started to shake, your breath coming in hitches that you broke.

You wouldn’t let your sobs free, sucking in air through clenched teeth like you were angry at their intrusion.

“Hermana,” Pero whispered, jolting you.

“Fuck, Pero, don’t…” you growled, and he could hear the control you were trying to get over your shaking voice. His scowl softened.

“Was it the children?” he asked, moving ever so slowly closer to you. You nodded briskly, hands clenched on your knees.

“I do not like this world sometimes, Pero.” You ground words through your teeth, trying to punch down sadness with anger. He suspected it was a talent that’s worked well in the past. “It is not kind, even when it should be. The cruelty we see…the cruelty we do…I don’t see the purpose in it.”

Pero did not have flowery words for you. He was best at what he could do with his hands, with his actions. So he tried to give you comfort in the gentlest way he knew how. One expansive palm enveloped your shoulder, and your body stilled under it. At first he feared he’d gone a step too far, about to retract it, before your head dropped to rest your cheek against it.

It was the first time Pero touched your bare skin.

When it didn’t seem like you would shy from him, he rested his forehead against the back of your head, the scent of smoke and blood and dirt laced through your hair. He tried to think of something to say, but words were never his greatest asset. That was more for William to offer. But he could touch, and ground, and hold, if you’d let him.

After a long moment of silence, the fire down to bare embers, you lifted your cheek, prompting Pero to lean back from you. He debated on moving his hand before you spoke.

“Thank you, Pero. I don’t know how you knew, but that was…what I needed. So thank you.” Your voice was still rough and stilted, but filled with a gratitude Pero didn’t know how to react to, so beyond the normal comfort of your barbed conversations.

“We have spent much time together. I know you better than you think, including all of the things you are wrong about,” he joked gruffly, studying the bare silhouette of your profile. He wished you would smile again.

“One day you’ll be free of my debt and wish for my sparkling debates,” you shot back, and he caught the beginning of a quirked lip. It was good enough for him to rest. He shuffled down to lie back, the stars overhead watching over you both.

“But not tonight,” he replied drowsily.

“No, Pero,” you added, “not tonight.”

“I spent much time with Tovar, and I am sure you are a brilliant companion. Debt or not, it sounds like you found a fine partner, my friend.” William’s cheerful voice brings Pero back to the conversation. He drags his attention to you, and your mirthful smile dashes away the remains of his memories. Standing half up from his seat, he snatches the bread you’ve been gesturing with from your fingers.

“Don’t play with your food,” he admonishes, but your halfhearted protest pulls any venom from it. He stuffs the bread in his mouth and chews, shoulders hunched as you go back to chatting with William about the East and all the mysteries there. Your rapt attention on his brother in arms lets Pero watch your face. That night was not the first time he felt a touch of softness for you. You were indeed a pain in his ass most days, headstrong and mouthy, but he enjoyed the challenge. He liked his women with teeth and nails and the potential to gut him. But he also liked to see you when your eyes softened, or when you thought no one was looking.

Pero had never been saved by anyone or anything in his life. Except for you. And while you did not think you were meant to have nice things, Pero hoped, if you would give yourself to him, you could be the first nice thing Pero has ever had, and he could be yours.

END

Next: Stop That, Right Now

#pero tovar x you #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x female reader #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar fanfiction #the great wall fanfiction #the great wall fic #lj's 500 follower celebration #prolix fics #pero tovar and his guerrera

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aerodaltonimperial · 4 months

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Julia Hart and Sky Blue working towards a common, probably world-dominate-y goal, but they can't get their teamwork or the details of their plans on the same page because both consider the other to be their sidekick (and they're going to have to make intricate shows of dominance about it)

(🩵🔮)

Backstage, Julia is furious—all sputtering rage as she stalks back and forth, occasionally waving the finger spouting red from where her nail ripped off and muttering beneath her breath. Skye lets her go for a little while, mostly because seeing Julia thrown is something of a rarity, and Skye's going to soak that one up.

Finally, though, she offers, "Next week, we'll take out Abadon."

Julia whirls, hair a silver-white arc behind her. "Abadon is the problem, but Rosa will be a thorn in our side. Next week, we take her out first, then deal with the rest."

"Rosa hasn't been in the ring for over a year," Skye says, "but Abadon is hitting peak momentum. If we don't take them out first, we'll never get anywhere."

"Do you think I'm an amateur?" Julia demands. "Do you think this my first match?"

"Might be your first tag match in awhile," Skye says, just to watch Julia's lip turn further down in renewed ire. "So, as someone with a great deal more experience there, maybe you should let me handle this."

"You." Julia takes a step closer, hands at her sides, balled into fists. "You think you can handle this? You couldn't even handle the mist."

"You caught me off-guard. We go after Abadon first."

Julia laughs, leaning in. "Darling, we play by my rules. I made you."

"You threw me in the fire," Skye hisses, "and you didn't even bother to show up after the embers were done."

"You listen to me," Julia says, low and threatening, and oh, she's nothing but a vengeful meteor now, tearing the sky apart. "I call the shots next week, and you'll do as I say."

Julia's eyes rove over Skye's face; for awhile, Skye thought she was checking to see how the mist took, how well the corruption was blooming. But this seems to hold another purpose. Here, Julia's eyes skip down to follow the curve of Skye's mouth. And that's why Skye runs her tongue across her bottom lip, just to watch Julia's pupils blow a little wider. "Or what?"

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," Julia murmurs.

"And you have no idea what I'm capable of."

Julia's close enough now that Skye can feel the warmth of her exhales against her cheek. "And what, exactly, do you think that is? Rainbows and fluffy clouds?"

"If you expect me to take orders," Skye returns, "then you'll have to make it worth my while."

Julia's eyes narrow. Her eyes drift further—down past Skye's chin, trailing her collarbone and then lower, to the plunge in her shirt. Somehow, her gaze leaves a thousand licks of heat in its wake. "Is that so?"

Skye wants to add more; needs to add more, to maneuver this in the right direction, and despite knowing this, her tongue goes dry and sticks to the roof of her mouth. She can't get her teeth apart when the shiver runs down her spine.

"Well then." Julia smiles, edging on predatory. On hungry. "Perhaps we'll have to clarify the rules of this arrangement."

"You think I follow rules?" Skye whispers.

Julia's index finger taps against Skye's face and then slowly, languidly follows the curve of her skin down. "You will with me, my dear. You will with me."

#tag so you don't lose this shit

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reblog-to-cast-on · 3 months

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so anyway I went to the sheep and wool festival in September looking for cormo, which is one of my fav fibres to spin bc it's such a funny texture, and couldn't find anything in a colour I really liked. so I bought two different colourways with the intention of mixing and matching pieces of roving between the two

behold: one is too blue and orange and the other is too red and white

I finally got around to spinning some of it this weekend and

I like it so much

I have created superman ice-cream coloured yarn.

(don't judge my messy winding, I did a bunch of this in the dark on a video call last night and have been stubbornly sliding it down and winding more above instead of just putting it on a bobbin)

I also have about an ounce of the yellow and blue leftover since they didn't have an equal number of coloured segments

I think I'm going to order some blue or green off etsy if I can find some more blue and intersperse it with this to make a more teal and green kind of thing but we'll see.

#spinning #I'm genuinely quite pleased #fiber arts

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milkweedman · 1 year

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Ok so ! Some experimentation is afoot (pun intended). I've blended several potential fibers with southdown babydoll roving in an attempt to find a good thread to hold alongside the toe of the next sock.

Context for the newcomers--i wear through the toes/ball of the foot of my socks ridiculously quickly, and have been trying on and off to design a sock blend that is kolya-proof for the last several years (mostly to no avail. I do a lot of sock mending 😔). @swords-n-spindles suggested i hold a thread alongside. I want it to add some support to the rest of the yarn, but it also needs to be stretchy enough that it will still conform to the shape of my foot. So, im currently trying to find a good blend to spin into a thin singles (perhaps even a felted singles, in honor of the yarn design spin along since i still havent done february's).

I'm using southdown babydoll because thats what the socks im currently knitting are made of, but i also think it might have been a good choice anyway, since sdb is extremely elastic and fairly durable.

Everything was blended using combs and pulled off without dizzing, bc my elbow already hurts.

So, from top to bottom: plain southdown babydoll roving. Then sdb + firestar (aka nylon). There's a little sample of it so you can see. Then sdb + kid mohair combing waste. I chose waste specifically bc the staple length of the mohair is about double the staple length of the sdb, which does not lead to good top. So the waste was the much shorter bits, which integrate a lot better.

Then we've got sdb + bactrian camel hair. I have a bit of partially dehaired bactrian camel down floating around in my room, and i used my combs to skim the hair off, to reasonable success. The bit on top is just the partially dehaired camel down as i got it, the bottom is partially dehaired camel down that's been de-downed, if you will, so that it's mostly hair. Now, these are much shorter and finer hairs than what youd find if you got a totally intact piece of bactrian camel fleece, but i sadly don't have any. If this sample works out i may need to acquire a piece of intact fleece and see how that goes (i'll need to cut the hair to a suitable staple length, but still). Lastly, we have sdb + karakul fleece. The staple lengths were identical and it blended really nicely.

I plan to spin each sample on my supported spindle, as fine as i can reasonably manage, and see what looks most promising.

My predictions:

FIRESTAR: i'm a little wary of this bc i couldnt blend it effectively. The firestar is very slippery and the sdb is not, so it's not well integrated. I think this sample will end up uneven, with sections of entirely firestar and sections of entirely sdb. I may need to make another sample where i cut the staple of the firestar in half and see if that helps at all, at least when doffing the comb.

MOHAIR: i think it will look and behave almost identically to the 100% sdb. The problem with mohair for these kinds of things is that it is extremely inelastic, so a mohair blend needs to be very sparing with the mohair if you want to retain any elasticity. I could probably have added a little more, though, so if it is identical i will make another sample with more mohair, and see how it is.

BACTRIAN CAMEL HAIR: really excited about this one. Camel hair is very very durable, and of course, quite inelastic. I added as much as i thought i could get away with. I think it will be a little wiry, but very strong.

KARAKUL: also excited about this one. Karakul is extremely durable as well, tyoically used for rugs and such. I added a fair amount to the sdb. I think it will be smoother than the camel hair, but hopefully just as strong. The one caveat is that the micron count is pretty high (30 is average, but i think this might be on the thicker end), which limits how fine i can spin a singles from it. So it may end up a little too thick for this application, but we'll see.

I'm going to spin these either tonight or tomorrow, and perhaps take a stab at felting them. I'll report back when they're spun and all :)

#kolya's ongoing saga of wearing through all its socks absurdly quickly #wool processing #sock knitting #wool combs #southdown babydoll #firestar #mohair #bactrian camel down #bactrian camel hair #karakul

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