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#there's so many little details you pick up on
thebramblewood · 2 days
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Hot off the presses, it's the first (and probably only) issue of Vatore Magazine! Pick up your copy now to see all 22 (!) looks in detail, shop the must-have CC, and - most importantly - collect some new scraps of coveted Vatore lore. 👀
READ VATORE MAGAZINE (PDF)
So, yeah, guess who thought they were going to do a straightforward decades lookbook and ended up making things entirely too complicated? 🙋‍♀️ The visual side of my brain is always tickled when CC creators put together little catalogs for their collections. That was my initial inspiration. Then I did a half-baked magazine cover concept and wanted to make a better one. I used this template as a base, and the headlines ended up being the most fun part. Anyway, I don't know how many people will click the link let alone scroll through the entire thing, but you'll be rewarded with several paragraphs of Vatore history if you do. I did this more to properly establish their timeline for myself than anything else, but I put a lot of care and time into it, so I appreciate anyone who reads. ❤️
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risuola · 1 day
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▶ FAVOR — Satoru has always been unpredictable and straightforward, but even so, the favor he asked for surprised you.
contents: silly Satoru, college!au, roommates, suggestive, humorous (??), male anatomy in brief detail, reader discretion is advised — 0,9k words
a/n: ok, this part is... a little more into 18+ territory but still keeping it light and friendly between the trio. a crack if you will, let's all appreciate the stupid boy Satoru.
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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“Question!”
The moment Satoru stepped into the room, you could tell from the look on his face — the typical mischief twisting his features into a caricature of innocence — that there’s something going on his mind that you may or may not want to know.
“Yes?” You encouraged carefully, flipping your eyes back onto the stack of papers in your hands. Notes, that you wished would transfer their contents onto your brain before you fail tomorrow’s test.
“I have the most random question– a favor, actually and you have to bear with me.”
“Hit me.” You were ready for–
“How many dicks you saw in your life?” –well, not that. “Real life, real dudes, that is. Not porn.”
You blinked.
Once, twice. The air seemed a little thicker than just a moment before and you shouldn’t be surprised. Satoru is unpredictable, he’s vibrant, he’s straight to the point most of the time, but that took you a moment.
“Can you repeat the question?”
“Dicks. Penises, cocks–“
“Yeah, okay, I got that.” You cut him quickly, abandoning the idea of studying and now paying him your entire attention. “You have to give me some context, Toru.”
“I’m curious if you girls have a preference? Speaking about aesthetics. Do you, like, judge the look of a dick?”
“Has anyone made you insecure about the look of your dick or what is it about?” You asked, confused, though confusion would be an understatement to describe the state of your mind now.
“I don’t know, no one said anything but, uh–“ Satoru began, shrugging nonchalantly, but there was a subtle uneasiness hidden underneath his lighthearted tone that you could spot with no mistake. “Every time I am with someone, they look at it as if they saw a ghost and most often it gets me down before the party begins, so it made me wonder.”
You put down the notes, abandoning the hopes and dreams about a good grade tomorrow and your fingers found their way to the bridge of your nose, pinching it — a typical gesture when you tried to collect your thoughts.
“I highly doubt any part of you could not be appealing, Toru. Even your feet are pretty—”
“Irrelevant. So, I’m asking do you have enough picture storage in your head to compare or do girls even pay attention to the looks of a dick?”
“Well, yeah, I guess? I mean, I received a fair share of unwanted dick picks, I’d say I know how a cock look like… But I don’t know, I think the judgement happens automatically,” you said, exhaling. “I think I saw once a very unimpressive dick. The rest was rather similar, I suppose—”
“What do you mean by unimpressive?”
“God, that’s embarrassing. It was my first partner, you probably don’t even know him, but the guy had at max two inches, which is fine as long as you can work with it, but he lasted less than ten seconds and on top of that he was hairy like a gorilla what probably took an entire inch off his length.”
“Wait, you had a hairy gorilla boyfriend and we don’t know about it?”
“It wasn’t my boyfriend, we didn’t even end up having sex. It doesn’t matter, okay?”
“We’ll get back to this, but now, dicks.” Satoru got closer and kneeled on the bed. “So, the favor. Can you be honest? Like, brutally, 100% honest?”
“Honest about wha— Wait, you want me to judge your dick?”
“Yeah?” He looked at you with the pleading expression in his blue eyes, his voice got whiny for a moment and you really wished to flick his forehead right now. “Please? No other girl will be as honest as you and Suguru is not really the respectable source of knowledge about the issue.”
“Christ, okay.”
You agreed.
You said okay, but for some reason it still shocked you when Satoru, instead of talking like he usually does, pulled his sweats down. Looking away was your first reaction. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking, but he literally just asked you to judge, so you slowly allowed your eyes to run down his body, leaving his handsome face and landing finally on the now free manhood, and oh boy, there was a lot to analyze.
The word pretty usually wouldn’t be your first choice when talking about penises. They were usually very similar, more often than not unimpressive and overall uninteresting, but Gojo… He was just that. Pretty. Incredibly long, and girthy too, covered in light skin with the baby pink head. He looked heavy, mouthwatering, like a dessert of sorts. The set of veins spread from below his stomach and wrapped around the shaft. He was mostly clean shaven, with just the tiniest happy trail of white hairs that against his light body was just barely visible.
“And?” He reminded you why you are even taking in the view. “Brutally honest, please.”
“You know what… I really, really hate giving a head, but that dick I’d suck for hours. It actually makes me salivate, you’re fucking pretty Satoru. I don’t get your concern,” you told him, finally looking away and getting your thoughts together, forcing them together. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “If they look oddly, that’s probably because you’re fucking huge. Christ–”
“It makes you wanna give me a head?” He grinned, obviously catching onto the words you said when you weren’t thinking clearly.
“Hold your horses and pull those pants up. You have nothing to worry about, you’re gorgeous from head to toe, you idiot.”
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taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th
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givemefevrr · 1 day
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Fuck Me Like I'm Famous (NSFW)
Pairings: dom!Jay x fem!reader
Warnings: Breeding kink, possessiveness, public sex, Jay is in a band, creampies, fishnet stockings, mirror sex, rough sex, hand kink, pet names (baby, pretty girl, doll, etc.), praise kink (kind of), degrading kink (kind of), dollification, etc...
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Jay's pulse raced with adrenaline as he played the final bars of his guitar solo, the crowd roaring. He glanced over to the side of the stage, catching a glimpse of you, his girlfriend. He couldn't help but notice every detail about you—the way your little black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the fishnet stockings that accentuated your legs, and those contrastingly innocent, cute white lace socks poking out of your Mary Janes shoes. You were a sight he couldn't tear his eyes away from. Your eyes met his, and a soft, proud smile formed on your lips as you watched him perform.
As the first set came to an end, Jay thanked the fans for all the cheers and support. He glanced back over to you, but this type you watched his adam’s apple bob with a gulp, his eyes making slow movement down your body before the crowd’s noise returned his focus to the stage.
He prepared for the next set, picking up his guitar again, the first chords of the next song echoing through the venue. Yet, despite the ocean of fan’s in front of him, Jay's eyes couldn't help but flicker back to you, standing there in your little black dress.
Throughout the entire second set, his gaze kept returning to you like a magnet. The way you leaned against the side of the stage, focused solely on him. With each glance, Jay's control threatened to unravel. The veins on his hands and arms popped out as his grip on his guitar tightened, each note he played serving as a desperate attempt to hold back the hunger consuming him.
And soon, your eyes wandered to his fingers that expertly worked over the strings of his guitar. God, the things you’d love for those fingers to do–
But before you could finish your many fantasies, the second set and the third set had already come to an end. Wow, had you really been staring at Jay’s hands for that long?
Jay’s voice is what ripped you from your thoughts, his “stage voice” what you liked to call it, booming over the speakers, energetic and bright.
“Johnson City, what do you think of the concert so far?” Jay asked, taking his microphone from its stand and pointing it towards the crowd, receiving a series of loud, collective cheers and whistles. Jay chuckled slightly at the response, smirking.
He allows himself to bask in the cheers momentarily before glancing back at you for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Alright, well get ready for this next set–it’ll start in a little bit. See you soon, Johnson City!” Jay waves before speeding backstage for intermission.
The loudness of the crowd echoed in his ears as he reached you, taking your hand in his, guiding you close to his body as you walked with him. "You look incredible," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of the concert.
You leaned in closer, the scent of your perfume mingling with the sweat and energy of the stage. "And you, Mr. Rockstar, were amazing up there," you replied, your eyes filled with admiration.
“Yeah?” He smirked down at you, contrasting the dark gaze in his eyes as he backed into his dressing room, pulling you inside and pressing you against the now closed door, locking it. “I’ve been thinking about you since the first set,” he tilts your chin up with his fingers, his other hand tracing the contours of your body, coaxing a giggle out of you before planting a kiss onto your lips.
“Here? Really?” you scold, pushing his chest gently, finding the man amusing. “Can’t survive a couple hours without sex, huh?”
But he didn’t let you move, grabbing your hips roughly, pinning you against the door. “I can’t survive a couple hours without sex? You were practically drooling over my fingers the whole time I was on stage,” he retorted with a hint of arrogance, his knee nudging between your thighs.
You gasp, both surprised at the sensation and the fact that he noticed your staring. “You have to be on stage again in like ten minutes, Jay,” you try to deflect.
“That’s why we’ll be quick, hm?” he cooed seductively before lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you further into the dressing room.
Placing you on top of one of the make up desks, the cool surface of the mirror with its ring of bulbous lights pressed against your back, he immediately leaves hungry kisses in your mouth.
You responded eagerly, arching into the touch of his rough fingertips that traced up your thighs, teasing your fishnets with a playful tug before letting the material snap back against your skin. A moan escaped your lips into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching to tangle in his hair, but Jay stopped you with a condescending smirk.
“Ah, not the hair, baby. My stylists will get pissed, and I have to be on stage soon, remember?” he reminded you with a slow, teasing tone, his lips trailing down to your neck as his hands moved further up your thighs under your tiny black dress.
He growled softly as he discovered the absence of any undergarments except for the fishnets. “You really planned this out, didn’t you?” he murmured appreciatively, his voice rough.
You smile mischievously, your hands sliding down his body to palm at his clothed dick. “Maybe I did,” you teased.
And Jay lost it–quickly making work of your shoes and little black dress, unhooking the black bralette you wore under, leaving on the fishnet stockings and lacey white socks. “Shit, you look so dolled up like this,” he groaned, his hands cupping your tits, his thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples as he leaned in for another heated kiss.
Grasping your hips again, he pulled you to the edge of the desk, pressing your bare heat against the front of his black jeans, grinding against you, teasingly.
“J-Jay, stop, you’re–– you’re going to get your pants all messy!” you whimpered, concerned for his stage outfit, though your hips still rolled against his.
“Even better,” he rasps onto your mouth before slowing to a stop. “Turn around.”
But before you could move on your own, he deftly maneuvered you so that your stomach was pressed over the surface of the table. Jay’s hands roamed over your exposed back, tracing the curve of your spine with a possessive touch. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, the anticipation building with each passing second.
His hands moved lower, sliding down your hips, his fingertips teasing along your inner thighs, so, so close to where you craved his touch the most. You arched your back, a silent plea for more.
“So wet already,” he murmured, his voice a low coo. “Want me that bad already?”
You bit your lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his fingers found their target, tracing the outline of your arousal through the thin fabric of the fishnet stockings. He teased you mercilessly, eliciting desperate whimpers and gasps from you as he circled and stroked. You heard the unzip of his jeans before he suddenly ripped a hole in your stockings.
“Jay,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea for more, your body craving his touch, oh so much.
And so Jay wasted no time, his length plunging into your slick heat. The stretch and the suddenness of his entry was a bit painful, but it was so addicting. A moan tore from your lips as he bottomed out, your walls clenching around him instinctively, welcoming him in as if he belonged there, as if you were made to fit him perfectly.
Jay let out a low, guttural groan of satisfactions, the sound reverberating through the room as he began to move, setting a relentless pace that had you whimpering and whining, his hands gripping your sides with a strength that promised bruises.
“You’re so loud, doll,” Jay scoffed, his voice dripping with lust as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you wish the fans could hear how good I’m fucking you right now.”
You struggled to babble a response back, nodding frantically in compensation for your lack of coherence.
Jay’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts becoming even more fervent as he chased his own release. “Well too fucking bad,” he breathed, his voice possessive. “You’re mine. All mine.”
He leaned down, pressing open mouthed kisses onto your back and shoulders, marking you up as he drilled into you. “All mine,” he repeated again like a mantra, each word punctuated by a thrust that left you gasping for air.
Your mind was consumed with nothing but him, his touch, his scent, him filling every corner of your being. It was as if the world outside the dressing room ceased to exist, as if you two were the only ones in the venue, and the fans weren’t screaming just outside.
He leaned back slightly, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he angled his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that made you drool, so cock dumb that you could barely keep your head up, your vision hazy.
“Look at yourself, baby,” Jay commanded suddenly, gently tilting your head up, urging you to look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. But embarrassment made you close your eyes, hiding from your own gaze.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded again, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided your face to meet your reflection. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice a whisper against your ear as you finally obeyed, meeting your own gaze in the mirror, the glass fogging up with your pants and whines.
“There she is—my pretty girl,” Jay murmured, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection, dark with pure lust as he continued, his movements growing more urgent with each passing second. “Do you see how beautiful you look? How good you take me?"
As your eyes locked with his in the mirror, you could only whimper in response, unable to form coherent words, your body clenching tightly around Jay’s cock, feeling the familiar heat in your tummy build up.
You met him thrust for thrust, rocking backwards onto his cock, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you until it finally snapped, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. "S-so good," you managed to gasp out, your body trembling as your walls clenched around his cock tightly in your release.
“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” Jay groaned, his movements becoming sloppier as your orgasm washed over you. “It’s like you’re made for it. Made for me to breed you, fill you up.”
“Mph– please!” you beg, your head spacey, your body still buzzing.
“Hm? Want that? Want me to give you a baby–make you a mommy?”Jay's voice was a deep rumble, his hips rocking against yours as he spoke, teasing you. You nodded eagerly, babbling incoherently, your voice filled with need as you feel his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside you.
In the aftershocks, you collapsed against the table, Jay still holding you close, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he kissed your temple tenderly, rubbing your tummy, still shallowly pumping his cock in you. The dressing room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, and soon one of Jay’s bandmates were banging on the door.
“Jay, you were supposed to be out five minutes ago, stop fucking and get out on stage!”
Jay grunted in response as he reluctantly pulled out of you, his cum dripping from your used cunt. With a final lingering kiss on your spine, he reluctantly straightened up, his cock still glistening as he hastily adjusted his clothing.
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spacingstars · 2 days
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Technically these thoughts were inspired by @battlekilt's response to this post I just needed a space to luxuriate in the sauce of my own thoughts lol.
Generally, there are two points to my stream of thoughts here:
One, the personal element of Rex knowing about Anakin and Padme’s marriage.
Two, the professional element of Rex knowing about Anakin and Padme’s marriage.
I’ll first get into the weeds of point one:
By and large, Star Wars canon does not go into overt detail on exactly how it was that Rex found out about Anakin's marriage; how this occurred tends to be a matter of conjecture more often than not—usually pitted down to a matter of accident. Either comically or more seriously. I don't bring this up to disparage this take. I, in fact, held to it myself upon my first watch of TCW! But I've since reevaluated that position and have come to a completely different conclusion altogether:
Anakin told Rex intentionally.
My reasoning for this is down to a number of things, particularly due to the series of TCW novels that were written to tie into the first few seasons of TCW. The one I am primarily discussing here is Star Wars: No Prisoners, and shoving aside any other opinions that I have on this book, it holds some specific moments from Anakin about Rex that really validated the change in thought process I had the more I analyzed Anakin and Rex’s relationship.
Generally, I had before assumed it was a matter of accident (in past scenarios, I most often thought of the confession coming about from a moment where the prospect of survival was not the most cheery of outlooks); the reason as to why I held such a thought process is because Anakin’s marriage is generally his most guarded secret, he was unwilling to tell anybody about it, and in such a context, it becomes easy to assume that Rex finding out was a fluke, nothing more.
However, the more I started to really pick at Anakin and Rex’s relationship, the more I started to think it would be a lot more interesting if Anakin intentionally told Rex about the marriage.
In the past, I came about this mainly from the idea that part of what makes Anakin & Rex so interesting to me is the two-way loyalty that stretches between them, the way Rex occupies a unique space in the list of Anakin’s relationships. TCW itself frequently speaks of the trust they have in each other, to the extent other characters (like Padme herself, seen in TCW S07:E02, during the holocall scene between her and Anakin, and in No Prisoners itself) notice it. And with that in mind, I thought, more and more, it made more sense to me that Anakin had told Rex intentionally. It’s clear, given moments in the ROTS novelization, that Anakin didn’t want to shun this aspect of his life into secrecy:
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from Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith
(This is not the only instance of Anakin expressing a desire to leave the Order in the ROTS novelization; his behaviors in ROTS itself are also indicative of this desire to me (his lack of care about getting caught with Padme in the moment she reveals her pregnancy,) and his quote of “I understand wanting to walk away from the Order,” when Ahsoka walks away from the Order during the Wrong Jedi arc. Which, if you want a short explanation for why I think Anakin stayed despite expressing multiple times a desire to leave, there are many little pieces and layers to it, but the primary conclusion I’ve come to is that Anakin stayed out of a sense of duty, particularly related to ending the war. But that’s not what this post is about.)
This leads me to believe that Anakin wanted to confide in someone—wanted someone who he could trust to share this part of him, and given the loyalty and trust he holds in Rex—and I’d also wager it’s down to Rex’s demeanor—it was easier for Anakin to tell Rex than anybody else. Of course, this was all my own conjecture! This was just me taking bits and pieces of what we have of these characters and their circumstances and affixing them into a different configuration to explain something that wasn’t elaborated on in canon.
Of course, or so I thought, because Star Wars: No Prisoners has quite the interesting scenes, scenes that do elaborate upon this.
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from Star Wars: No Prisoners
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also from Star Wars: No Prisoners
It’s so fascinating to me that Anakin thinks Rex is someone he owes it to tell, and doesn’t that just speak of how highly Anakin regards Rex? He’s able to think that Rex deserves to know, and not just that, but that Anakin thinks Rex would understand. Anakin describing Rex as not just professionally loyal but personally loyal is a sentiment that really strikes to the core of why I think Anakin was comfortable enough to tell Rex; because ultimately, Rex has not just given him his professional loyalty, the loyalty expected of a soldier, but he's also given the loyalty of his friendship. I really don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the feeling is mutual between them. The way Rex speaks of Anakin in Star Wars: Rebels is so damn fond. I really do think Anakin told Rex, intentionally, not just for the professional aspect of it, which I will get into shortly, but because Anakin wanted to have someone he could trust and confide in; Anakin has trust and faith in Rex, the same as Rex has trust and faith in Anakin.
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from Star Wars: Age of Republic short story "501 Plus One"
And, returning to the discussion surrounding the screenshots from No Prisoners, obviously, there’s even more there, what with Anakin thinking about how he can’t just leave his men to suffer (it shows consistency in his character, in regards to the loyalty he shows his men because his thoughts here reflect those in the Umbara arc, where he refused to leave, even on orders from Palpatine, until Rex reassured him he could handle it. Which is just... it drives me batty, but my thoughts on that moment from Umbara are not strictly relevant to this post.) And part of that conniption is born out of the loss of his mother! Because he faults himself for being unable to save her, and now he's left with an all-consuming desire to ensure no one under his care dies, which, of course, will inevitably lead to Anakin being consumed by his own conniptions about death itself through his visions of Padme dying in ROTS. (I love how many layers I can peel back and examine from this one moment.)
I also have to emphasize that the biggest thing is that Anakin didn’t even tell Palpatine about his marriage. Palpatine, Palpatine, someone who had been a confidant for Anakin for so long, Palpatine, more than anyone, most certainly knows the most about Anakin; he’s the only one who truly understood how Anakin ticked, and he used that knowledge to disastrous effect.
Which to me, just reinforces how incredible it is that Anakin felt comfortable enough with Rex to tell him about his marriage.
Now, No Prisoners doesn’t actually contain a scene where Anakin tells Rex, but given his thoughts it’s very likely Rex was told shortly after the events of the book.
Now, for point 2:
Which is that, in essence, when Anakin remarks that Rex needs to know about this secret so he can freely contact him or otherwise know about the whereabouts of his location in case they get orders and Anakin, along with the 501st, need to be shipped out effective immediately.
This is a readiness issue.
Readiness is the ability of a military force to engage in assigned tasks and/or missions upon orders.
Anakin being upfront about his marriage to Rex on this principle is most certainly going to get Rex in agreement* because Rex would be aware of the logistical importance of maintaining readiness. Anakin and Rex are on the same page here because, ultimately, no one else is going to better understand these aspects of the continued function of an armed force than a clone; they're clone soldiers.
*Which, additionally, regarding the argument that Rex ends up in a precarious situation for knowing about Anakin and Padme’s marriage, upon further examination of this, I do not think this holds water either. I say this primarily because, ultimately, Anakin, in being married to Padme, has not broken any of the GAR’s regulations. The issue of Anakin’s marriage is of concern to the Jedi, not the GAR. And Rex is not beholden to the Jedi’s religious doctrine; Anakin is, and unless you want to argue that the Order would crack down on Rex in retribution for aiding one of its members in hiding a marriage that’s expressly against their rules… nothing would happen to Rex because ultimately the issue of Anakin and Padme’s marriage is only an issue with regards to, primarily, the Jedi Order, which is not an authority that Rex is behold to; Rex is beholden to the GAR, and, as I said, Anakin being married is not breaking any regulations I can think of… I also find it hard to believe that the GAR would be pressed about a secret marriage when much of their natborn soldier base is also likely to be married. In fact, given my previous comments about readiness, the GAR is likely to take Rex’s stance on the matter.
Rex and Anakin are on the same page regarding the issue of his marriage for both the personal reasons of it and the professional.
And, to address Rex's awkwardness about covering for Anakin in TCW S07:E02:
Rex's awkwardness about having to cover for Anakin and Padme in TCW S07:E02 is presented more as a moment of humor juxtaposed against the earnest conversation between Anakin and Padme as they discuss Anakin and Rex's relationship; it's meant to be a funny-sweet moment regarding the relationship between them. This entire moment is meant to show the familiarity Anakin and Rex have with each other, to the point they have a system worked out between each other when Rex needs to cover for Anakin, which I should also say the fact that Rex is willing to lend his gear** to Anakin for this cover story is something I consider to be a big display of trust, it's very much a classic "friend covers friend," kind of moment.
**That helmet is important to Rex's identity. It is, in effect, his face; it is a custom helmet, donning his signature jaig eyes; it is what most people are going to think when they hear Captain Rex; it is, effectively, Rex trusting Anakin enough to hand over a vital part of his identity.
Everything about this moment screams familiarity to me in the way Anakin and Rex conduct themselves with each other; I find it quite telling that Rex is comfortable enough to tell Anakin they don't have time for what Anakin is suggesting they do in front of the bad batch. Rex is essentially saying no to something that can read as an order from his commanding officer to other clones. The fact that Rex is comfortable enough with Anakin to do so is massive, and as I've said before it shows the familiarity and comfort the two have with each other in their personal relationship. When Anakin first implores Rex to provide cover; Rex's insistence on them not having time for that—to me—less indicates that Rex doesn't like covering for Anakin, but more so that Rex is fixated on the mission because he just got a glimmer of hope that Echo is still alive.
It should also be said, Rex is simply awkward; it's just a facet of his personality. He's an awkward dork in armor.
With all that said, to paraphrase a quote from the post that started this ramble, Rex was one of Anakin’s best friends. (And I personally think that the feeling is mutual given the numerous times Rex has expressed similar sentiments towards Anakin.) :3c
It should also be said that much of this post was made much more coherent thanks to @battlekilt, who was also a great help in fleshing out much of these thoughts, especially those pertaining to Anakin and Rex's interactions in TCW S07:E02.
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shroomdreams · 21 hours
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propagation 1: Argenti
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Cw: friends-to-lovers, reader in heat? (bugs don’t have heats but this is the best way to describe that), propagation monster!reader, pheromones, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, argenti revealed to be a monsterfucker???, implied virginity loss, afab!reader
AN: Just take this 💀 I am extremely unwell about this concept and Argenti
As a fellow Knight of Beauty, you and Argenti hit it off when you first met, landing on a planet where the locals were being accosted by some fragmentum creatures. You tagged along when your business was done, helping the citizens of the universe as his spear pierced enemies, while your shield protected the weak. All was well until a sudden event caused you to split from Argenti. Though you were saddened that you could no longer be with him, you continued on your journey.
In a way, you were happy that Argenti was no longer with you. Peeling off your armor and underthings, you gaze in the mirror with a frown. Humanity fades into purple chitinous armor, a pair of arms sprouting from your back alongside two, fragile cyan wings. Despite extolling the virtues of Beauty, there was nothing about you that can even be remotely beautiful. All you knew about yourself is that you were the product of something… awful. You’re lucky you haven’t remembered the details of your birth.
Today, you hid yourself away on the planet you first met Argenti. The locals welcomed you back with open arms, and even prepared a whole cabin for you to stay at. You couldn’t be more grateful for their generosity, especially considering the reason why you were hiding away in the first place.
Chrrrr…
To put it simply: The urge to Propagate had been calling to you for quite some time. Though your rigorous training and patience had managed to stave off the urge, you were bound to be overwhelmed. And for some infuriating reason, your thoughts were filled with the rosy-haired knight you met so long ago. How many months has it been since you last saw Argenti? Would he have remembered you?
Your body tingles, primal thoughts swirling in your mind. Argenti would be the perfect mate, your brain tells you. He’s strong, handsome, and you think an army of Argentis is exactly what this universe needs. However, you shake your head of these vivid images. You shouldn’t be thinking like that about your friend- You haven’t seen him in so long!
Hopefully, the urge will pass and you can return to roaming the universe, and perhaps bump into the rosy-haired man that plagues your mind. However, that plan is thrown out the window when you hear three knocks, and a familiar voice calling your name.
Argenti couldn’t believe his luck! Just as he visited this planet, he heard news that you were staying here for a while. His fellow Knight, and beloved friend, finally reunited with him. He contemplated on if he should bring something along- It’s only fair that he brings an apology for leaving you alone for so long…
Either way, Argenti await with a patient smile as he stands by the door of the modest cabin the locals said you were in. Such a quaint little building inspires warm feelings in him-
“A… Argenti?”
He’s quick to pick up the slight waver in your voice, how you seem to be tense about something. Argenti adjusts his stance. “My friend!” He calls out, resting a hand on the door. “It’s been quite some time. Do you mind if I come inside?”
“Oh, sure. Just… Give me a moment.”
He hears the rustling of clothes, followed by a meek “come on in.”
The interior of the cabin is rather nice. It certainly feels like a home, and the tasteful flowers everywhere really adds to the atmosphere. However, Argenti couldn’t help but notice a few peculiar objects scattered about. Mainly the strange, dull, purple orbs clustered together in a corner, and your armor tucked away in a nook. He quirks an eyebrow, before looking to you. You were rather disheveled, wrapped in a robe that seemed a bit too snug for you. There was also a rather sweet scent in the air, though he couldn’t exactly pin down what it was.
“A-Argenti, my friend. I’m sorry for the mess, today has not been kind to me.” You smile, patting the couch. Your body tingles as Argenti nears. He smells exactly as how you remembered him, how he smelled of flowers and vanilla- Your image flickers for the briefest of moments, but you desperately hoped Argenti didn’t notice. If you could just make it through this visit without much incident, you would be happy.
“Friend, are you alright?” Argenti asks, a frown on his face. “You just seem so jittery. Have you fallen ill?”
You quickly shake your head. “Well, yes, but i-it’s not so serious. Just a bit of a weak spell, that’s all. Tell me about you though!” You lean it with a grin. “I’ve been wondering what you were doing while we were separated.”
So Argenti regards you with tales of adventure- How he narrowly managed to escape the jaws of death from a Sting. You don’t realize how close you’ve gotten to him until you feel his hand touching your face. How lucky you were, that Argenti seemed to always be wearing his armor, else he would have felt how hard your “skin” seemed to be.
“O-Oh. Sorry, I’ll-“
What you were about to say was interrupted when Argenti leans in to place a kiss on your lips. You recoiled, looking at him with wide eyes and a blushing face. “Argenti?”
Instead of answering you, Argenti closes the distance, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the couch and breathing heavily. “I’m… You…” He panted. His cheeks seemed to be dyed in the same hue as his hair, the waterfall of crimson cascading over his shoulders and making you feel small. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” Argenti mumbles, his eyes sweeping over your quivering frame. “But you… You’re beautiful.”
“Argenti-“
You whimper when Argenti starts grinding against you, the fabric of his pantaloons not doing much to hide the pressure behind them. He sighs out, eyes closed as he rut against the space between your legs.
“Argenti wait- The pheromones- Ah~ They must be making you a-act out.” You murmured, trying to get him to see reason. That must be why he suddenly kissed you- The pheromones you were emitting must have triggered a response in Argenti. You have to stop him before he does something he’ll regret- Or worse, see you in all your ugly glory…
But Argenti seems determined to hold you down. Vines grown from the floorboards and wrap around your body, twisting and curling until you were immobilized. A whine was drawn out of you when Argenti kisses your neck, your disguise faltering again. “Argenti-“
“My friend~” Argenti shakily gasped out, leaning back in order to undo your robe. Before you could say anything, Argenti peels off the only protection you have, unveiling your naked body to him. His eyes grow wide, taking in the sight of your human form dissipating into quantum particles and revealing your insectoid-self, your other pair of arms desperately holding onto him as you look away, ashamed.
“Please don’t stare… I know I’m ugly.”
Those words shake Argenti out his stupor. You watch with wide eyes as he strips himself of his armor and underclothes, tossing the items to the side, revealing his toned body to you. You let out an involuntary chitter at the sight, drinking in his physique before he pulls you up into his arms, his emerald eyes boring into yours. While standing, Argenti continues to grind against you, letting out tiny groans alongside your own.
“Don’t you dare call yourself that,” Argenti growls. The vines wrapped around your limbs restrict your movement, allowing him to position you above his length. Breath quickening, you attempt to fight off your instincts and sink down on his cock post-haste, instead resting your head on Argenti’s shoulders. “You are the most exquisite person I’ve ever seen. The way the light shines on your chitin, I swear you’re made of the most precious metal in the universe.”
Trembling in his hold, you let out heavy breaths as he pushes your hips down, slowly sinking you down on his cock. Argenti throws his head back, feeling your warmth immediately sucking him in as you continue your descent. You whimper, mandibles reaching out and tapping his jaw. “Argenti…” You sigh out, feeling your resolve waver as you fully sink down on his dick. You and Argenti breathe in each other’s presence, allowing for the both of you to adjust to numerous sensations floating through your bodies. Gritting his teeth, Argenti summons the strength to lift up your hips, noting how your warmth drenched him in a strange, purple liquid.
“Magnificent. Like… Like liquid amethyst.” He slurred, a hazy look on his face. His hips begin to pump up into your pussy, fucking whines and chitters from your mouth, your free set of arms gripping the couch for dear life. Every single thrust from Argenti felt like electricity running through your body, brushing against a specific spot that has you screeching out in pure lust. Emboldened by your reactions, Argenti takes to moving your hips up and down in tandem with his thrusts, intensifying his ministrations in a delirious craze. That sweet scent grows stronger as Argenti pistons into your cunt.
“Let’s have children together!” Argenti babbles. It takes your brain a moment to catch up to his words, but when you fully process them, you feel yourself gushing around Argenti’s cock, the purple liquid making his thighs sticky and shiny. You let out a cry as he roughly slams you down on his dick, filling your cunny with his release, white mixing with purple and tricking down in tiny drops. As Argenti takes a breather, you begin rolling your hips, making him whimper from the overstimulation. You don’t heed his tiredness, though. Planting your legs to the cushions of the couch, you began slowly riding Argenti’s cock, purring as you feel him throbbing against your walls.
When Argenti wakes up, he finds himself on the bed, his body sore. You sat at the edge of the bed, cradling three large eggs. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you feel Argenti wrap his arms around you.
“Argenti. Did I wake you?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. He smiles, shaking his head.
“No, you didn’t. I just had the most wonderful sleep, in fact.” Argenti replied, kissing your cheek and laughing when he feels your mandibles tap against his face. His eyes wander towards the clutch of eggs in your arms. “May I…?” You enthusiastically nod in response. Argenti traces the shell of one of the eggs with a careful finger, noting how soft it was to the touch.
“I just laid these three a few minutes ago,” you explained, gazing at your clutch with loving eyes. “Your erm… Material managed to produce these three. The rest won’t hatch.” You look to Argenti once again. “Would you like to hold one?” Seeing Argenti nod, one of your hands scoop an egg and gently hand it over to Argenti, who holds it like he would a human baby.
“We made these precious gems.” He whispered in awe, catching sight of his reflection. “How long until they hatch?” He asked, making sure to keep his hold on the egg steady.
“I’m not sure,” you earnestly reply. “This is the first time I’ve uh. Coupled with someone. And the first time I might have children.” Your chitin gives off a faux flush of purple. “…Argenti, I must apologize. I realized that I may have taken advantage of you. You just wanted to visit me, but then you ended up fathering my first clutch. Hah… what a strange reunion between ‘friends,’ right?”
Argenti just smiles, leaning in to plan a kiss to your cheek. “I must also apologize then, for acting so foolhardy. But in my defense, you were just so… intoxicating. When I gazed upon your true appearance, I felt as if the Beauty had gifted me with something precious. And when you said that you were ugly, I supposed I wanted to show you that… I truly wanted you.”
“Ah, then…?” You leaned towards Argenti, careful to not jostle your eggs. “You wouldn’t be opposed to raising them together?”
“On my honor, I would never abandon our children.” Argenti affirms. “We shall raise them into strong, upstanding citizens of the universe! And no matter what…” He leans in, pressing his forehead to your own and closing his eyes. “I’ll protect you all. No matter what happens, I will take up my spear and fight against the Destruction if I have to.”
Months later, Argenti sheds tears as he holds your daughter while you encourage her brothers to emerge from their shells. He watches as you teach your children to shapeshift, hiding their monstrous forms and taking on human ones. However, he thinks they’re much cuter when they chirp for his attention, laughing as his daughter mimics his red hair.
OMAKE:
“It’s been a while since we last saw you, Mr. Argenti.” Welt politely greets, pouring the Knight a cup of tea.
“Yeah, we weren’t sure if you were still alive after that whole thing.” Stelle bluntly says, letting out an ‘ow’ when March elbows her.
“My apologies, friends. I have been very busy lately.” Argenti says. “I haven’t had much time to explore the cosmos, but Velite has been helping me in finding some work for the meantime.”
“What do you need to work for?” March asks. “Aren’t you a Knight of Beauty?”
“Well, my partner and I both agreed out duties as Knights would be on hold for the time being.” Argenti replies. “We want to ensure our children grow up in a stable environment, so that they may flourish as wonderful adults.”
“That’s nice- Wait, what?” Stelle looks at him with wide eyes. “You have kids now??”
“Indeed! Would you like to see their pictures?”
“…Holy crap, he does have kids.” March gaped. “Triplets, too. How old are they?”
“I’d say… nine months by now?”
“…Mr. Argenti, these children look to be toddler age.” Welt deadpans. Argenti laughs, taking his cup of tea.
“Well, they did recently hatch, so I understand the confusion.”
“Okay then.” Stelle hands Argenti his phone back.
It isn’t a few minutes later did Dan Heng finally speak.
“What do you mean they hatched?”
…Argenti just smiles.
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‘Is your Brother Luke?’ Part 2
Summary: The parent’s of the mother of Luke’s daughter discuss the details of losing their daughter. Semi-Luke’s reaction to Lillian and the loss.
Warnings: story of death by genetic condition leading to health complication, rough pregnancy/delivery, heartbreak, handing over parental rights — grandparents, not breaking up but just leaving them, , — possibly more.
🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻💚🌻
Jack was only used to having his teammates or a girl he managed to pick up at the bar over. So he wasn’t quite sure how to host two strangers. His teammates helped themselves and the girls he brings home are usually helping themselves to him.
Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly he spoke up, “would either of you like something to drink? I don’t have much. Water, Gatorade, beer?” He tried to laugh it off as if he wasn’t trying to hide the fact he was shaking from head to toe due to his nerves. “We’re okay, thank you.” The couple sat on the loveseat across from where he stood. “I, uh. I didn’t get your names earlier either…” Jack let his words wander off into the quiet of the apartment hoping that if they didn’t want to share with him they wouldn’t close down on him. “Phillip and Ruth Weaver.” Ruth gives Jack a soft smile. Jack feels inclined to reach across and shake Phillip’s hand as it now feels it is an official meeting.
“So Jack, you asked about what happened to our little girl.” Phillip said while making direct eye contact with him. All Jack could do was nod. His nerves are making their way back. “In short, she passed away a couple weeks ago.” Phillip kept his eyes on Jack, but Jack couldn’t look at him or at Ruth. He looked everywhere but at them. He felt like he could be sick. Jack had been silently hoping and wishing since the moment at the door when they said she was gone. That meant she just got up and left. Gave up her rights. But deep inside he knew it meant this. It always meant the worst.
When Jack went to talk next each word came out stumbled over and he was positive that neither Phillip or Ruth understood him. He had asked what happened, needing to know more. He couldn’t be left in the dark.
“Our sweet Lyla Grace was born with a genetic disorder known as Vascular Ehlers Danlos. It’s a recessive gene and it happened to skip current generations, until our baby girl.” Ruth picked up explaining as Phillip doesn’t seem to be able to get past the sentence he just dropped. “Her specific type of Ehlers Danlos is often referred to as the most serious. Vascular Ehlers Danlos affects someone’s blood vessels and their organs. Lyla had many surgeries due to ruptures.” Ruth continued explaining.
Pausing for a moment to gather herself, Jack took the time to breathe. He hadn’t necessarily been holding his breath but it sure felt like it. “When Lyla told us she wanted to go off to Michigan for college we were not for it at first. She was our baby girl. Way too fragile. The girl barely bumped into anything and she bruised like she was hit by a linebacker. But, she convinced us in the end.” Ruth gave a soft smile looking at Lillian who was beginning to stir.
“It wasn’t long after freshman move in she called me all giddy about this boy she had met. Told me his name was Luke, that he played hockey for the college, and that he was the one. She swore by it after only hanging out twice. She was so sure of it. Two days later I started to get pictures of the two of them and it continued. Your brother no doubt loved our Lyla Grace.” Ruth kept talking while she wrangled Lillian out of the seat before she started crying. “He took immaculate care of her. Any time she was sick, he made sure she had what she needed. If he had to leave for his commitment to hockey he took her to the hospital to make sure she was safe. It was sometime in between St. Patrick’s day and the end of the school year when something shifted in Luke. He still treated her right but he wasn’t around as much. It was like he started the shutout process then. When the frozen four rolled around and the loss happened, he just vanished. Three days later is when I get the call from her about the positive test.”
Jack still felt as if he could throw up. He’s heard all about this girl. All about how Luke is going to find her after his rookie season. How he’s going to make it right. How she’s it for him, he’d never been in love before her. Jack has no idea how he’s going to tell his baby brother that he not only had a baby with her and missed it but that she’s gone.
“But..how did she?” Jack asked the open ended question that they each knew what he was needing to know. “We all knew she should not have even thought of keeping her pregnancy, but she was so sure that Luke would come back to her. She was determined to keep going. She carried little britches here almost full term. 35 weeks was when she was delivered. The whole pregnancy was hard. In and out of the hospital because of the risk of hemorrhaging, the stress on her heart, the overall health risk Lyla proposed with the pregnancy. Delivery we were all on pins and needles about her heart. When The delivery was over and clear aside from the excess bleeding she experienced. We thought we made it through and all was good, we never expected it to be 7 months later when the problem showed up with her heart.” Ruth looked like she would break at any moment. She was hanging on to her granddaughter, the only thing left of her daughter. “All the pushing during delivery had created a tear in her heart. The lifting and holding of Lilly put a strain on her and made the tear bigger. We noticed the change in color of her body and took her to the hospital. While waiting for her scans is when she coded. They couldn’t do anything, it was too late.” Phillip finished for his wife with the most monotone voice. Jack hadn’t noticed he had got up and started putting together some sort of baby bed. “Jack, one of the hardest things I have ever had to do is put my baby girl to rest while holding her baby girl. We are not handing her over to Luke because we do not want her. We are handing her over because we are not capable of taking care of her the way she needs us to. Luke is her dad, she already lost her mom. This precious little one needs at least one parent in her life. Luke can provide for her plenty.” Phillip explains to Jack placing a hand on his shoulder.
Jack’s mind is spinning. He’s trying to absorb everything. Clearly they’re wrapping up the visit and are about to leave. He’s not ready to face his brother with the news. He needs to stall them.
“I want your alls contact information. I will make sure you still get to see Lillian and I will arrange all the travel for when it’s planned. You can’t write her out of your life.” Jack talked so fast the couple laughed. “Slow down honey, don’t panic. We appreciate it. We only live about 2 hours away in New York.” Ruth assures him. She places Lillian down in the pack and play Phillip just assembled.
The three of them share goodbyes and their phone numbers. Shutting the door behind him and locking it. Hopefully for the night. Jack runs his fingers through his hair and lets out an instead groan.
“Hey who was just here? And why is there a baby?” Luke asks sauntering down the stairs. “Oh! You’ll love this. So will Quinn let’s call him.” Jack can’t do this alone, so he FaceTimes Quinn. “What’s up with you two? Jack has shit eating grin on, and Luke looks confused.” Jack snickers slightly and Luke repeats his question from moments before. “Jack who was just here and why is there a baby?” Jack moves his phone to sit against the TV as he picks up Lillian and holds her out so her face is next to Luke’s.
“Quinn, meet your niece, Lillian Wren Hughes! You’ll never who the daddy is! I’ll give you a hint. It’s not me BUT he does play for the New Jersey Devils” Jack is full on cackling by now and turns Lillian to show Luke his baby. “Luke Warren Hughes, what did you do?!” Quinn asks from the phone. “Quinn I know you don’t get much action up there in Vancouver and all, but he part—“ before Jack could finish his chirp on his brother about his sex life he hung up.
“Did you say Lillian Wren?” Luke asked taking the 7 month old from his brother. “Uhm, yes? Is that all you’re fixated on you don’t want to know the mom or how she got here?” Jack tried pressing him. “I know who the mom is.” Luke countered. Staring at his little girl as she gives him a smile that shows her one bottom tooth growing in. “You, you do?” Jack asked, swallowing hard. “Yeah, Lyla and I said if we were lucky enough to have kids and had a baby girl her name would be Lillian Wren and if we had a boy it would be Leland Gray.”
Luke was lost in his memories. It’s killing Jack he has to break his heart. Break the fantasy he knows Luke is already creating in his mind. “So who were the older people and if she’s mine and Ly’s where is Ly?” Luke stopped looking down at Lillian to meet his brother’s sad stare.
“They were Ruth and Phillip Weaver. Lyla’s parents. They brought Lillian to you because…maybe I should take Lillian and you sit down before I tell you.” Jack reaches for the baby ask Luke jerks away. “I’ll sit with her. Now tell me.” Luke wasn’t a fan of how soft Jack had suddenly turned or how sad he looked. “Luke, you know Lyla was sick.”
Luke nodded slowly already piecing together what Jack was going to say at the end of this all.
“Carrying Lillian was very hard on her. She was in and out of the hospital. She delivered early. The doctors were worried about her straining her heart while she delivered. Her mom said she had excess bleeding after the delivery but her heart seemed to be okay.” Jack’s mouth felt like sandpaper. Luke could barely breathe. Lillian was pulling on her daddy’s curls. Something new to explore. “It was unknown that she actually had a small tear in her heart from straining and pushing. The months following with bending and picking up little bit, the tear got larger. Her parents said they took her to the hospital the moment they saw a change in her color. But it was too late. I…im sorry Luke but she’s gone.” Jack barely made it through the last part before he had to get up and wrap his younger brother in his arms.
Sobs rattled through Luke. He kept repeating how unfair and cruel this all was. Lillian taking in her surroundings. Jack felt useless and horrible because he had to be the one to deliver the news.
“Jack, please call mom. Please get her the first ticket here. I need her. She’s going to kill me. But I need her.” Luke begged.
What Luke didn’t know was Jack had already booked his mom’s ticket when the Weaver’s were there.
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slippinmickeys · 2 days
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Prompt: more from the "Funfetti" universe? Is that even a thing? (Can it be a thing?)
William marched through the door of their house and angrily threw his backpack to the floor. 
Scully, who had only just gotten home a few minutes before and hadn’t even taken off her shoes, whirled around.
“Whoa!” she said, setting down the mail she was sorting. 
The doorway darkened behind William and Mulder made eye contact with her with a slight lift of his chin. 
“Little trouble at school today,” he said, coming inside and shutting the door behind him. 
William huffed his frustration at his father’s words and kicked off his shoes, then whipped his jacket into a chair. 
“How about,” Scully said, with an eye toward mediation, “we have a snack and then sit down and talk about it?”
William clenched his jaw in a way that was purely Mulder and then said “Can I have cookies?”
Scully, knowing a hangry William would be far harder to deal with, just said “yes” rather than suggest an apple and a couple cheese sticks. She suspected William was hip to this tactic and couldn’t fault him for playing her.
Several bags of Famous Amos cookies and two full glasses of milk later, Scully had him sitting in a chair in the living room while she lowered herself onto the couch. 
“Want to tell me about what happened?” she asked. 
Mulder, who had followed them into the living room, said, “His teacher told me that-”
At this, William bristled. “I’ll tell her,” he said, and Mulder just held up both hands in surrender and backed out of the room.
William went on to detail how he’d been ganged up on at recess while out in the woods past the edge of the playground. 
She and Mulder had picked the school because of the extensive grounds and the fact that many classes were held out of doors year round, using a teaching philosophy that was immersive and geared toward experiential learning. William was thriving there, but kids would be kids. And teachers couldn’t be everywhere at once. 
“It’s not fair,” he grumbled in conclusion. 
“What did they say?” she asked gently. 
“They called me a freak.”
“You’re not a-” 
“Mom!” he said, stopping her from finishing the platitude. “Come on.”
Scully sighed. She could hear Mulder tinkering around in the kitchen. 
“Did something happen that precipitated this?”
William huffed a breath himself and fell back into the cushions of the chair. 
“I don’t know,” he said, noncommittal. “I don’t think so.”
She tried not to worry. If something had…happened, they’d have gotten a call rather than a teacher pulling one of them aside at school pick-up.
“You can’t control what people think,” she finally said. “But you can control how you treat others. You’re still pretty new. Just be kind,” she went on. “They’ll come around.”
“They’re not going to come around, Mom,” he said. “They’re assholes.”
“William!”
“They are though.”
Some people were assholes. And there wasn’t much you could really do about it. 
“William, what do Dad and I always say to you? When they go low, we go…”
“Lower!” came Mulder’s voice from the kitchen. 
Good lord, Scully thought. 
“We go high,” she said with a little more emphasis than she normally might have put into it. 
Mulder wandered over to lean against the wall where the kitchen met the living room. There was a steaming mug in his hand. 
“There’s something to be said for a well-timed knee to the groin,” he said.
William looked from Mulder to her earnestly. “I like Dad’s idea.”
“Dad’s idea is going to end up getting you suspended,” she said to her son, but swung her head to glare at Mulder. “Will, you know we have to be careful,” she added softly, turning back to the boy. She reached out to squeeze his knee.
“That’s not fair either,” he grumbled. At this, he stood, swiped his backpack off the floor and marched up the stairs. Scully could feel his frustration and waited for his bedroom door to slam, but he closed it quietly. 
“That was less than helpful,” Scully said, turning to look at Mulder, who pushed off the wall and flopped down into the chair that William had just vacated. He handed over the mug in his hand. He’d made her a cup of tea.
“They’re picking on him because he’s different,” Mulder said. 
“The less attention he pulls to himself, the better, Mulder, you know that.”
“My solution ensures that they’ll leave him alone.”
“Not necessarily,” Scully said. 
“And what would you have him do?” Mulder asked. “Scully, you know his powers are harder for him to control when he’s upset. The more we let these kids pick on him, the more likely it is that he’s going to go off on them. In a way that’s a lot more disruptive than a trip to the principal’s office.”
Scully sighed and leaned back into the couch, rubbing a tired hand over her eyes. 
“What if I talk to the other kids’ parents? Explain what’s happening?”
Mulder took a turn to sigh, himself. “Half of them won’t believe that little Joey could ever, and the other half are going to knock some heads together which will only make things worse for Will.”
They sat in silence for a moment. 
“What should we do?” Scully asked earnestly. 
“I could show up to drop-off tomorrow strapped.”
“Carrying your Glock to a gun-free school zone is a wonderful idea. Why didn’t we think of that before?”
Scully’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on Mulder, but he remained silent with a thoughtful finger to his temple. When Scully blew a raspberry and put her feet up onto the coffee table, Mulder reached forward and pulled her boots off, digging his thumb into the aching arch of her nearest foot. She groaned in rapture. 
“We could move again,” Mulder said as he worked his magic. “Or try homeschooling.”
“He’d be miserable,” Scully said sadly. “He likes this school. We like this school.”
It was their third school in five years and by far the best of the lot. Which it should be–they paid enough in tuition. 
“We could talk to his teacher. Talk to the Head of School.”
Scully sighed. “I think we’ll have to. They’ll have to do something.”
Mulder switched feet. “We’ll figure it out.” 
Scully closed her eyes and felt the day’s stresses evaporate with each deep swipe of Mulder’s thumb. They would figure it out. They always did. 
“If that doesn’t work,” she finally said, eyes closed and head resting on the back of the couch. “I’ll pretend not to notice if you teach him a few moves you learned at Quanitco.”
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barrenclan · 2 days
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okay hey its me (spotfurfan on main) back again reporting live on another fucking patfw issue
OKAY SOOO YOURE CRAZY. you. YOUUUU.
i just cant believe we're finally here like... it's finally happening. crazy. ugh so crazy and im so excited and horrified. this issue was so so good obviously i dont think i even gotta say that at the point but!!!!
OBSESSED with so many things about this. again, you NAILED the feeling of dread and horror so well. like actually making me feel sick GOOD JOB!!! everyone being so horrified is WONDERFUL. its all in the small things, like mallowstar panick-ly ordering everyone around as a last attempt to save them, and daffodilpaw crying. really good and heartbreaking details. im super interested about deepdarks... situation with wildrose. that man is up to Something. really interested to see how that will play out and if it will effect much.
ALSO im very much wondering if anyone will mention.. pinepaw. like recognizing him as that little blue cat. if anyone will spill about rainhaze. ugh WHATS GONNA HAPPEN I CANNOT WAIT!!!!!!
and MALLOWSTAR. god, mallowstar. not even one of our main characters really and yet his death is so incredibly devastating. he just wanted to protect his clan. even when theres no fucking way he could have done anything. his death is quick, and i think that makes it even more upsetting somehow??? i figured he was gonna die but. man. MAN. pick on someone ur own size prowl
overall. good. very very good shit. poor corm. poor everyone. if they had just been a little bit earlier to leave.... just a little bit. fuckkk i really cannot see this ending well and i am so excited
YAY I love when people do live reactions at me! I love to hear your thoughts so so much.
Panic and action is always something that's been hard for me to get across in writing, so I'm always happy to hear that I've succeeded. I like this issue as it sets the tone for the 4 to follow and really establishes that this is not a force that BarrenClan can just fight their way out of, which was important to me.
I am personally very happy with the conclusion of this story so I am hoping everyone else likes it too... coming THIS SUMMER! And fall, and probably winter,
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sweet surprise
(jake kiszka x reader) 18+
warnings: SMUT!, unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talk, soft dom!jake, oral (f rec), swearing (I think that’s it but lmk if I missed one)
authors note: heyyyy everyone! i’ve always wanted to write fanfics and randomly had this idea today…so here we are. please be nice, it’s my first fic ever. but anyways, enjoy!
• • •
you were waiting on jake to get home, eager smile creeping on your face.
after a long but rewarding day at work, you came home and decided to do something sweet for him. you always wanted to show him how much you appreciated him.
it had taken you an hour to set it all up: a romantic bath for the two of you, complete with roses, candles, and smooth rock music. you knew he’d love it.
he was running late, per usual. studio sessions take so much time and he takes a lot of pride in making sure the takes are perfect.
he’d sent you a sneak peek of the band’s new song a few hours ago while you were on your lunch break. a sweet, acoustic melody sung through the phone and you instantly loved it. his beautiful voice danced into the music with sweet words describing a girl. it was a love song and it described you perfectly.
jake was such a romantic and you loved it. you knew you’d have to do something special tonight.
pulling you out of your memories, the lock on the front door clicked. he walked in, a sight for sore eyes, carrying his guitar case. he wore a black buttoned shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearm, with half the buttons undone to reveal his tan chest, and sleek black slacks and shoes. his signature silver medallions dangled as he put down his case.
he looked up and smiled at you. jake knew you too well. he knew by the look on your face, which you were trying to hide, that you had something planned for him.
“hey baby”, he said as he swayed over to you.
“hey yourself”, you replied, looking him up and down.
he tilted your chin up and leaned in to place a soft kiss to your smiling lips. his arms slipped around you and pulled you in close to his warm body.
you sighed into him, instantly comfortable. he pulled away to see you looking up at him, smiling.
“what’s that look for, hm?”
“I guess you’ll have to go and figure it out…”, you teased.
he backed away, his eyebrows furrowed at the challenge. he smiled slyly, dipped, and picked you up over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.
“jake!”, you squealed.
he giggled, walking towards the stairs.
“you’re ridiculous”, you laughed.
“you’re ridiculous to think I wouldn’t want to be all over you. i’ve been away from you how many hours now?”, he huffs, “too long.”
he reaches the top of the stairs and places you back down.
“now, where’s my prize?”, he joked.
you roll your eyes at him,
“you’re gonna have to look a little bit. it’s part of the fun.”
he smiles and looks around the hallway, ducking his head into different rooms.
“cold.”, you say playfully.
your eyes lock, and he suspiciously creeps further down the hallway.
“warmer”, you tempt.
you can see the lightbulb go off in his head. he turns and rushes to your bedroom, looking around.
“warmer”, you dared.
he was catching on. jake always loves your little games, and you love seeing his eyes light up with excitement.
he grinned knowingly, walked slowly to the bathroom door, and pushed it open.
the amber ambiance lighting flooded his face as he walked in, mouth open in surprise. you followed him in, taking in his joy.
“red hot.”
he took in your work with care, noticing every detail. you could tell he loved it, his eyes darting around the room.
suddenly he turned to face you, pinning you against the counter, and immediately went in for another kiss, this time deeper.
“such a long day, you knew I needed this didn’t you?”, he muttered between kisses.
“I guess I just knew”, you giggled.
he kept kissing you, getting needier every time. his hands slowly caressed your curves, and slid in between your legs. you gasped, his fingers working over your clothed core.
“bedroom. now.”, you breathed.
he bent, grabbing your ass, snd lifted you up. your legs wrapped around him as you kissed and he slowly walked towards the door.
sitting on the edge of your bed, he ran his hands up your back, grabbing your hair and tugging firmly. your head fell back and he started kissing your neck sloppily, sucking under your jaw. his hands moved back down to grip your ass, his right lifting up and slamming back down.
“jake, please”, you moaned.
his erection was prominent, creating a delicious outline in his slacks. you grinded on him, slowly.
“fuck, I need you”, he groaned, his eyes drooped in lust.
twisting to lay you down flat on the bed, he grabbed at your leggings, pulling them and your underwear down and off. you swiftly pulled your shirt off and threw it on the ground, displaying your tits for him.
“fuck”, he sighed.
his jaw dropped to an ‘o’ shape as he dipped to suck them into his mouth. the feeling just made you more needy, squirming beneath him.
he looked up, grinning like a devil, as he lowered himself to your pussy.
he starts slowly, with a few soft licks, making you whimper. then in a matter of minutes, he’s eating you like a man starved. lewd sounds fill the room as he relentlessly sucks on you.
you tangle your fingers in his hair, holding on tight as he pulls you closer with his arms locked around your thighs. your high creeps up on you and he refuses to slow down.
“jake- fuck.”, you gasp.
“give it to me”, he rasps. “be a good fucking girl and cum for me.”
you crash hard, with a loud moan followed by silence as your mouth hangs open. he slowly works you through it, slowing down until you relax.
he rose back to your face, giving you a sweet kiss. you deepen it, needing more, and grab his shirt to pull him closer.
“I can’t fucking take it anymore.”, he grunts.
he flips you over, so you’re propped on your hands and knees. you hear his belt unbuckling from behind you and feel yourself getting wetter from the dominance he exudes.
pushing his slacks just low enough to free himself, he gathered some of your slick on his hand and jerked it over his dick. you felt his tip at your entrance, asking for permission.
“please, jake”, you begged.
without further warning, he entered you fully and grunted in satisfaction.
sighs filled the room as he started slow, pushing in and out, making you feel every inch. he began to build the speed, receiving deeper moans from both of you. his eyes took you in, as his hands squeezed your ass, admiring the view. one hand traveled to your hair, grabbing it roughly, while the other gripped your hip to hold you in place.
“that’s it, baby. take all of me.”, he panted.
you were getting closer by the second, the head of his dick hitting your walls just right. his thrusts were getting harder and faster, drilling into you.
“jake -oh- i’m gonna cum”, you pleaded.
“fucking beg for it. tell me how much you want it.”
“please, fuck, please jake can I cum? i’m such a good girl, please let me cum. please please please?”, you squeaked, you could hardly take it anymore.
the hand in your hair returned between your legs, letting his thumb trace circles on your clit.
“show me baby, cum for me.”
you gasped as your orgasm washed over you. you shook, arms giving out. you held the pillow underneath you, letting your fingernails dig into it, and taking in the smell of his cologne lingering on it.
“that’s it. so fucking good.”, he praised.
he was on the edge, but seeing your face turn to look back at him, sultry and fucked out, was too much for him.
he shuddered, releasing inside you with a whisper of your name.
you both stilled and came down, and things seeming to move in slow motion.
he turned you over gently, placing your head upright on the pillow, as he softly kissed your forehead and left to the bathroom. you closed your eyes, basking in the warmth of the sheets and the post-orgasm haze.
you heard water draining and then running again, creating steam you could see floating from the door.
jake returned to the bed, small smile on his face. he gathered your legs in one arm and your back in the other, lifting you up and carrying you to the bathroom.
he placed you down in the bathtub, the hot water soothing your sore body.
“I had to rerun it. the water went cold while we were… distracted.”, he grinned.
you giggled, his sweet personality making you swoon. he started undressing, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and pulling off his pants. he joined you in the water, enjoying your company.
“I loved this surprise, baby.”, he said, genuinely.
“i’m glad”, you blushed, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”, he promised, then added, “sooooo, same time tomorrow?”
• • •
AAAAAAHHHHHHH!
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nirvanai · 2 years
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was re-reading through the scene where you can ask mizuki what date thinks of ryuki and. hmm. that scene has a Much different tone when you realize what actually happened the day before. the way he looks relieved when mizuki says that date thinks ryuki is a valuable member of abis. the fact that he was likely dreading something much, Much worse. hmm.
and then they follow that with the scene where Tama says she can’t read Ryuki’s mind, so he needs to open up to her, and he says he can’t because she’d hate him...
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sysig · 6 months
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Portal 2 replay review: Hrmnnngggngmngm 💕💖💝💞✨❤️💗
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damnedtreasure · 1 year
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Gosh for so much of glass onion I can so very easily imagine the fun they were having making this. Like I can imagine them going "okay so we have this slow zoom on the Mona Lisa and have elon Bron talk about the interpretations of her expression- and then we CUT TO ANDI" or "oh so one of the puzzles is a fugue how should we explain it? YO YO MA!" or "y'know what'd be cool as hell? Having a guy walk through the shot and disrupt things while saying 'ignore me,' right? But we have him always holding a bottle of Corona!!" or "what if we play the Nat King Cole song? Wait, no, to really hammer it home, we have the ending shot be of andi in the Mona Lisa pose!" Or "this character who no one believed despite telling the truth and predicting downfall, y'know what her name should be? CASSANDRA"
It was an incredibly fun film to watch. I can't imagine how much more fun it must have been to write.
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alethiometry · 6 months
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all in all i did think killers of the flower moon was a good film, but it really annoys me that it missed so many opportunities to be truly great, or to tell the story more comprehensively, or to better and more effectively utilize its extremely generous runtime. i just think that if i had the luxury of a scorsese production budget, 3.5 hours, and the trust and willing labor and passion of the osage community to aid in telling this story, i would have put way more effort into fleshing out both the osage community during the reign of terror as well as better tie that into the community today. especially given that the entire last section of the book focused on david grann's continued investigation into the murders that occurred outside of the fbi's case against hale (who, and this is never stated in the film, to the film's great detriment) was never acting in a vacuum or the sole mastermind behind every murder — as well as grann's interactions with and amplification of the voices of the descendants of the victims and survivors. there was so much potential to be explored there, but for whatever reason scorsese decided to come just short of much more multilayered and just overall deeper storytelling.
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sttoru · 4 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. thinking about true form!sukuna having a huge size kink (+ corruption kink).
word count. 2.6k
note. super self-indulgent. cant rlly blame me for creating this. also do you see those big ass hands in the header i used? yeah.. says enough (this sucks ass)
tags. dom heian era!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut. porn with plot. size kink / size difference (reader gets referred to as ‘short’ & ‘small’). p in v -> unprotected. degradation. corruption kink (reader gets referred to as ‘naive’, 'shy' & innocent’-looking). tummy bulging. loss of virginity mention. hymen breaking mention. cervix fucking, ouch. lots of teasing. tiny bit of choking. tiny mention of blood tasting ? idk. hint at anal / double penetration. dirty talk. sukuna has two of everything btw mehehe. reader get called ‘woman, brat, slut, little'.
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sukuna is intrigued by you. he’s always been, since the moment he’s laid his eyes upon you. your loyalty and devotion to him are two aspects that the king of curses likes most about you. .
. . after your innocence.
it nearly irked him. every time he saw you hanging around the estate without a single care in the world. sukuna would attempt to intimidate you with serious threats. he’d loom over your short stature and look down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes. though, none of it seemed to work.
you'd only bow your head at him and apologise if you’ve caused him any possible inconveniences. it annoyed the sorcerer. you weren’t trembling in fear like all the others would — it was like there was nothing going on in that head of yours. especially when you smile at him. which no one actually dares to do.
sukuna could crush you. with no effort. one big hand would be enough to pick your entire body up, lift you in the air and throw you around like a ragdoll. you don’t seem to fear the possibility of that happening, even when being faced with a pissed off sukuna.
it’s truly intriguing and amusing. that’s why sukuna kept you around every day — as a form of entertainment, he called it. one thing led to the other and you eventually ended up as one of his concubines. the king of curses himself decided to grant you that promotion.
why? because not only does your fragile body, reserved and polite personality and innocence secretly fascinate him — it also makes him crave you. crave to shatter that naivety of yours. to take that small body of yours and make it feel what it means to be overpowered by a man twice your size.
sukuna does not regret his decision to make you his concubine. the first night you spent together was one of the best nights he had ever had. in all his many years of living. not a single woman had ever succeeded in blowing his mind when it came to sex.
it was usually boring and repetitive for the sorcerer. he felt nothing for those women he’s had in bed before — it was solely for the fact of satisfying himself. though, that changed on the day you had given him your virginity.
he remembers every detail; from your little noises of both pain and pleasure, your tight and untouched pussy that bled faintly when the fat tip of his lower cock pushed through, your nails that dug into his arms and back, your thighs that he held to your chest, his large hands that could easily wrap around the fat of them, your aching cunt that was left spasming around air as it tried to keep his sticky cum stored in place.
sukuna didn’t think your tears would affect him as much. when he took your virginity and you whimpered in pain — he did feel a twinge of guilt. it was strange; he hadn’t felt that emotion before. he had stopped and wiped your tears away. roughly whispered some words of encouragement too.
he had never done so before. never. he had never told anyone how ‘good’ they were for him. how he’d be ‘careful’ to not make it hurt any more. the king of curses recalls vividly how slow he started with you. slow sex. instead of rough like he’s used to.
sukuna wasn’t chasing after his own pleasure in that moment like he’d usually have. his main priority was to make sure the girl below him was comfortable enough to continue. you’re strange. the things you make him do, say and feel are strange. and yet. . .
it was an amazing night. the best. however sukuna was left behind with an insatiable hunger for you. more, more, more. he can’t grasp it yet; why he longs for you. for those feelings he’s suddenly capable of experiencing during intimate moments.
it’s why he calls for you every night. no other concubine was needed after you were made one. the king of curses couldn’t care less about those other women. they are boring to him.
unlike you. the one he’s sure that he won’t ever get bored of.
“you can take me so well now,” sukuna breathes out. one of his cocks was inches deep inside you, bulbous tip painfully hitting your cervix. over the past few weeks, your body had learnt to adjust to him, your pussy molded to fit the shape of his dick.
sukuna looks down at you and his cocks twitch with the urge to release already. his heavy balls clenching. your fucked out state is adorable. you seemed so.. vulnerable underneath the big man, “what a fragile little thing.”
it almost sounded condescending. degrading. especially with sukuna’s lips being curled up into a mean grin, his sharp canines showing. there was a puddle of your cum forming underneath your hips — staining the sheets that the poor servants have to clean by tomorrow morning.
“p-please, fngh, ‘s too big,” you sputter out. no matter how many times you took sukuna in, your smaller body couldn’t quite fully accommodate to the girth of him. every time he hits your deepest parts, you let out a painful whimper.
sukuna kisses his teeth, though slows his thrusts a bit. the wet sounds of his cum and yours getting pushed in and out of your cunt with each move was too addicting. what sukuna loves most is the view of the skin of your lower abdomen swelling and stretching each time he pushes forward.
“i thought you said you’d take both of my cocks today, yet it seems like you can’t even handle one,” the king of curses sighs whilst belittling you. one set of hands is holding you down by your hips, the other set is fondling your stiff nipples and circling your sensitive clit, “what a pity. a real pity.”
you almost choke on your spit as all your sensitive spots were being fondled. sukuna’s thick fingers leave no place untouched as he increases the tempo again—his cock plunging in and out of your stretched hole. the upper one was twitching, rubbing against your clit and lower abdomen.
sukuna harshly grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him after he hears you apologise for making empty promises. he seems satisfied with you staying so polite. even when he’s practically rearranging your guts. the way you talk through your soft sobs and cries is endearing. makes him grin wickedly.
“i don’t want to break my favourite little concubine yet, you see,” sukuna continues. he lets out a grunt of pleasure when your pussy clenches around his thick cock. no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you still remain as tight as the first time.
he takes in a deep breath. he’s trying his best not to pound you into the mattress. he’d fold you in half and probably break you like the fragile thing you are. he could snap you like a twig if he wasn’t careful, “. . .but you’re making it very difficult for me.”
you respond by apologising again. oh, how cute it was to see you babble and make up excuses. sukuna grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he resists the urge to go harder on you. you’re already squirming and moaning loudly just because he’s fucking you hard and deep—bruising your cervix and forcing your walls to open up to him.
“‘m sorry, wanna take both.” you hiccup and sniffle. tears ran down your cheeks from overstimulation. it felt so good yet so painful to be taken by the person you admire most. you didn’t want to displease him, so you uttered those hopeless yet needy sentences again.
sukuna stops his movements when you weakly ask him to use both of his cocks on you. he scoffs, not knowing where you gained the confidence from. he pulls out of your dripping cunt, leaving a trail of cum connecting both your genitalia.
“‘wanna take both,’ she says,” sukuna mocks you under his breath. it’s getting worse; he’s nearing the point of no return. especially with your desperate whines that were like music to his ears, “you’ll break, woman.”
two of his hands move to stroke along his lengths, smearing the mixture of body fluids all over them. his eyes glare down at your small form—already fucked out, yet aching to continue. needing the full experience for once.
you always turn from a shy girl to a complete slut whenever he has you in bed. sukuna loves it.
“i want to try at the very least,” you mutter. it’s true that you’re exhausted. you’re catching your breath now that you got the chance, tired eyes glancing up at sukuna’s enormous stature between your legs, his defined muscles and the tattoos on them glistening under the faint light of the oil lamp.
it got your pussy throbbing and clamping down around air. you felt a bit light headed and your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes glazed over as you try to seem determined. but your body was tired.
“yeah? how. . . cute,” sukuna grins. he knows you can’t. not today at least. he doesn’t mind if you aren’t capable of taking him fully since you’ve already pleased him well enough for now. though, he still can’t help but tease you—make it seem like he’s going to give you what you want, “all right. don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
your eyes widen and your fingers curl around the silky bedsheets beneath you in anticipation. your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch sukuna pump his two cocks a bit faster, squeezing the base a bit, leaking some pre.
it’s all just for show.
“i’m not stopping. even if you scream.” the king of curses warns you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. you gulp at the terrifying aura sukuna was emitting. one of his tips teases your entrance whilst the other probes and circles around your anus.
he threatens you again, testing if you’ll back down, “last chance. i’m not pulling out once i’m in, do y’hear me?”
you keep being stubborn until the very last second. sukuna’s deep voice that shook you to your core was not enough to make you change your mind. you were so desperate to fulfill his every need and make sure that he was satisfied. it made you the perfect woman in his eyes.
the king of curses is completely amused. he decides to take it up a notch. he pushes his lower cock against the tight ring of muscles, pressing and nearly allowing the tip to move in. the sudden increase in pressure is torturous. you surely wouldn’t be able to withstand the entire thing.
“w-wait!” you squeal in surprise and pain. the sting you felt made you snap back into reality. it’s when you realised that maybe you needed more time and experience to take both of sukuna’s dicks. you squirm your hips away, “can’t. i can’t.. hurts too much.”
sukuna nearly rolls his eyes once you finally give in. he shakes his head with a sigh, feigning disapproval and annoyance. he pulls his entire body away from yours—a ominous shadow casted over his eyes. it makes you think that he’s pissed off at you; for being unable to please him.
you panic a little. even if you are sure sukuna wouldn’t ever hurt you. you know he favours you over the other concubines. you don’t want to lose that position.
“i’m sorry.” you apologise before the sorcerer could say anything. he lets out a sharp breath, rough hands back on your body, kneading your flesh gently yet firmly. his eyes take in the view of you trembling.
it’s unreal. you are half his size—completely vulnerable underneath him. he’d normally call people like you weak and useless. wouldn’t feel a thing for them. but your naked body below his is a sight he wishes to see every night.
it turns sukuna on so much. the fact that you are helpless and don’t complain when you’re struggling to take one of his cocks gets him going each time.
“tsk. what’d i tell you?” sukuna grumbles. he slaps his lower cock firmly against your clit. your body responds by closing your thighs together, though the king of curses pries them apart again, “stop overestimating yourself, brat.”
he isn’t actually mad. it was expected—of course you couldn’t take both at once. he didn’t even prep your other hole enough. plus you are clearly still exhausted from the previous rounds. sukuna just likes to. . . test and take advantage of your devotion to him. your obedience and desires to please him.
it’s fascinating to see you squirm and apologise in that whiny voice of yours. it makes him grin from ear to ear. and it keeps things fun.
before you could mutter excuses again, sukuna stops you by leaning in. just when you thought you’d finally get to kiss him, he goes to bite down on your bottom lip. a moan slips out of your mouth which only spurs him on to bite down harder.
you could feel the devilish smirk on sukuna against your lip. his wet tongue cleans up the tiny drop of blood that escaped the wound. he lets out a low hum in approval at the taste. delicious as always.
“now, how should i punish my little concubine for being unable to keep her word?” sukuna whispers in a serious tone. it sends shivers down your spine, his hot breath traveling from your jaw to your right ear. he slowly licks your earlobe, “what do you say? any ideas?”
the tension in the room was palpable. your heart was stammering in your throat from the proximity between the two of you. you gather the courage to answer as sukuna’s fingers curl around your neck, squeezing your throat as if forcing the answer out of you.
“i-i’ll do anything, sir.” you reply through a shaky breath. the king of curses pulls back after he’s got a response from you. your eyes meet his and that’s when you know that you’ve either greatly pleased him or have given him the chance to go all out on you.
it’s probably both.
“anything, you say?” sukuna repeats slowly. without a warning, he effortlessly flips you over on your stomach, a set of hands pulling your ass up by your hips whilst the other set holds your upper body down on the mattress.
a harsh grip on the back of your head results into you whimpering. your face was mushed into a pillow, almost leaving no place to breathe. your back is placed in the perfect arch with your plump ass facing up. it’s one of sukuna’s favourite positions to do with you — especially because it makes you seem smaller than you already are.
“heh. i’ll make you regret saying that.” sukuna chuckles. a low, evil and wicked chuckle. that’s enough to make you realise that he was not going easy on you. your submission had greatly impressed the king of curses and he's taking advantage of it. again.
what would come next could be a reward for that said submission. he’s going to fuck your brains out and make you forget about everything else except for his dick. a night you won’t ever forget as long as you live—that’s a possibility.
or perhaps you’re going to be crying and begging him to go easy on you. a punishment for not being able to keep your promise. that could also happen.
anyway, you’re about to find out which one it is.
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leclerc-hs · 29 days
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73 Questions with Mrs. Leclerc - cl16
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pairing: husband!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you do a 73 questions interview with Vogue OR charles can't help but third wheel your interview warnings: none??? just cute fluff basically, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 2.1k author's note: I actually got a request by someone to do this and thought it was such a CUTE idea and concept. I obviously didn't do ALL 73 questions cause that would've taken forever. But thought this was a cute little piece to do. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think don't be shy !! xoxo
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THE DELICATE FOLDS of the pale pink sundress fluttered like petals in a gentle breeze, framing your figure with a soft, ethereal elegance. As the front door yielded to the push, the fabric danced around your legs, caressing the tender skin of your thighs with a whisper of touch. Your radiant smile illuminated the scene, a beacon of joy amidst the fluttering fabric and nervous flutter of butterflies in your stomach.
“Hey!” The male voice chimed brightly, his tone cheerful as a songbird greeting the dawn, echoing through the air with an infectious energy that mirrored your own bright smile.
“Hey!” You respond with effervescent warmth, your smile stretching across your face like a sunbeam breaking through clouds. With a graceful gesture, you swing the door open wider, revealing the inviting warmth of your home’s foyer. The soft light spills in, casting a golden glow over the polished floors and elegant furnishing. The first thing to notice is the giant painting of a Ferrari Formula One car, hung high above the entry way table.  
“Look who we have here! It’s Mrs. Leclerc!” A delicate blush warms your cheeks, a subtle reminder of the tender affection that tingles within you whenever you’re addressed as such. Though you and Charles have been together for many years, your marriage has infused your relationship with a fresh sense of intimacy and closeness. And despite that it’s been almost five years, the title of “wife” feels forever new and unfamiliar.
“On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”
“I would say 8, so I’m super excited!” With a gentle click, you shut the front door behind you, enveloping the foyer in a tranquility as you made your way down the hallway to the kitchen. Along the way, you stooped to pick up a scattering of children’s toys that lay scattered like confetti on the polished wooden floors, offering a quick apology for the perceived “mess.” However, you couldn’t help but inwardly smile at the orchestrated chaos around you. While the house was meticulously maintained by the cleaning company before the video shoot, every detail was carefully curated to strike the perfect balance between lived-in warmth and elegance, ensuring a setting that felt both inviting and authentic to you and the viewers.
“Any reason for that?”
In the heart of the home lies a kitchen adorned with a stunning green cabinet motif. The cabinets, painted in a rich emerald hue, exude an air of sophistication and charm, perfectly complemented by gleaming brass hardware. Sunlight filters through the vast array of windows, casting a warm glow over the polished marble countertops. 
“You mean other than the fact that the kids go back to school soon?” You and the interviewer let out a soft laugh as you made your way behind the kitchen island, opening the fridge in a smooth motion to pull out a water bottle. “Want one?”
“No, but thanks though!” His voice is light-hearted. 
As the fridge door remains open, a tantalizing glimpse is offered to the audience of its well-stocked interior. A colorful array of fresh produce fills the shelves, showing an abundance of vibrant fruits and crisp vegetables. Among the healthy offerings, assortment of juice boxes catches the eye, adding a playful touch to the wholesome scene.
“That’s a lot of juice boxes you have in there.” He makes a comment, it’s not a question, but you take it as one.
“Two kids and a husband,” You start, your tone light and casual before lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper for the camera, “who practically is also a kid, results in a lot of juice boxes.” With a playful wink directed at the lens, you punctuate the statement, adding a touch of humor to the scene. Setting the water bottle down on the expansive kitchen counter, you resume your easy demeanor, effortlessly blending candor and charm for your audience.
“Hey!” Your head shoots over, the camera seamlessly following your gaze to where Charles, your husband,sits on the floor of the living room, two of your kids, aged two and three, beside him with an abundance of toys strewn about. “I heard that!” Charles retorts with mock offense, a playful grin lighting up his face as he joins in the banter.
The living room exudes a chic sophistication with a distinct Formula One flair. Charcoal-gray walls provide a sleek backdrop, accentuating the mounted flat-screen television. A striking statement piece dominates one corner—a display of artwork showcasing all of the racetracks Charles has conquered – infusing the room with a sense of triumph and energy. A plush white sofa, adorned with an array of vibrant red pillows, invites relaxation and style. Across the room, a sizable shelf proudly showcases a collection of racing helmets, some belonging to Charles and others gathered over time, adding a personal touch to the space. Below the television, was a long console table that was adorned in various plants and photos of your family. You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced at them.
With a casual wave of your hand, you dismiss Charles’s playful interruption, maintaining your position at the kitchen island as the camera refocuses on you. The gesture carries an air of affectionate familiarity, a gentle reminder of the dynamic energy that permeates your bustling household.
“If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?”
“Definitely Austin Butler.” You answer almost immediately, no hesitance in your voice.
“Hey!” Charles’s playful yelp echoes through the room once more, accompanied by the joyful laughter of your children. One nestled in his lap, the other engrossed in a picture book, their presence adding warmth and vitality to the room. You share a knowing smile with Charles, the affectionate banter a familiar melody to your family life.
The laughter of the interviewer joins the playful exchange. The camera effortlessly captures the dynamic interaction between all of you with ease.
You roll your eyes playfully, “Restez en dehors de ça.” Stay out of this!
“Arrête de faire semblant de vouloir faire l’amour avec quelqu’un d’autre que moi!” Stop pretending you want to make love with anybody but me!
With a mischievous gleam in your eye, you turn back to the camera, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I change my answer?” You inquire, injecting a hint of playful anticipation into your tone.
“Sure,” the interviewer replies.
“You’re supposed to say no,” You quip with a chuckle.
“Oh, um no?”
With a playful pout, you glance over at Charles who is already staring at the interaction. A smile adorned on his face like he is in complete awe of you, regardless of what you are saying. “Sorry honey!” You wave your hand around. “Answers are final!”
Leaving the kitchen behind, you make your way towards the backyard, where the promise of relaxation and leisure awaits. Stepping through the door, you’re greeted by the sight of a large pool shimmering under the sunlight, its crystal-clear waters beckoning for a refreshing dip. Surrounding the pool, lounge chairs are strategically place, some on the pool’s ledge, inciting you to bask in the sun while enjoying the cool water. A wide arrangement of pool floaties from unicorns to racecars litter the pool as well.
It’s a breathtaking sight: a vast expanse of bright blue skies stretching overhead, adorned with barely a wisp of cloud in sight. The warm rays of sun dance upon your skin. With a stylish flourish, you slip on a pair of your favorite Ray-Bans, a subtle nod to your husband’s sunglass collection. 
“Vintage or new?”
You ponder for a moment as you stand in the backyard, a breeze blowing your hair behind your shoulders. “Depends, but definitely vintage.”
“Window or aisle seat?”
“Aisle, although Charles likes to take the aisle more.”
“What are three things you can’t live without?”
“Wait, do my children count as two of the three?”
“Up to you.”
“Okay, so my two children. And my lip gloss.” You laugh, pausing for effect. “Kidding! My two kids, and my lip gloss…” You pause, jokingly. “And my husband of course.” The light-hearted remark reflects the joyful chaos of humor and love in your life. “He’s really the sweetest man. I’m so lucky.”
The glass door slides open with a whisper, and into the frame steps Charles, his presence incessant. With a carefree demeanor, he approaches you clad in a pair of baggy jeans and a plain white t-shirt that stretched at the seams from his muscles. He presses soft kisses to your cheeks, the stubble of his own rubbing against your smooth skin, his love evident in each tender kiss.
“Désolé,” Sorry. He apologizes before pecking another kiss to your cheek. “Tellement ambrassable.” Just so kissable. He places one more on your cheek, your face bright red from the camera’s catching all of this.
“Looks like he can’t be far from you for very long.”
Charles looks at the camera, a glint in his eye with a large smile, like he was the happiest man on earth, and nothing could dampen his spirits. Especially with you nearby. “Est-ce que tu la vois?” Do you see her?
The interviewer, unaware of Charles’s words, simply nods in response behind the camera lens, acknowledging the affection in his tone. Later translations will reveal the depth of Charles’s words no doubt. Elle est tellement belle. Bien sûr, je ne peux pas rester loin longtemps.” She’s so beautiful. Of course, I can’t stay far long.
Your face is bright red as Charles remains at your side.
“Where are the kids?”
“Put them down for a nap!” Charles answers, his arm slung over your shoulder as he leans on you comfortably. 
As the interviewer continues the questionnaire, Charles can’t resist interjecting with playful remarks and comments on almost every question. His spontaneous interruptions add an element of humor and spontaneity to the video, turning what could have been a standard interview into an entertaining and engaging exchange.
“How do you define beauty?” “My wife.” “Charles, the questions are for me!”
"What do you love most about your body?" "That's an easy one...I think her--" Charles begins, but you swat his chest and cut him off. "I love my arms. Not because they're that nice but they give me the ability to hold my children." Charles clicks his tongue, hating that you even implied something about yourself as 'not that nice'.
"Least favorite color?" "Red." Charles lets out a large gasp with a string of phrases in French, clearly hurt by your response. "It's a joke, mon amour!" "How did you know you were in love?" You look at Charles then, his eyes already on you, a soft smile pulling on both of your lips. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with him. Probably when I realized I would rather be awake in the middle of the night, since he was traveling so much, just to talk to him for even a few minutes, instead of going to sleep." Charles plays with the ends of your hair, twirling the ends around his fingers as he chimes in. "We've known each other for so long. But, when I first met her, it was like meeting someone I've known my entire life. There was no awkward silences between us. We just clicked."
“Diamonds or pearls?” “Pearls.” “Mon chou, don’t lie.” “I’m not!” “The diamond on your finger says otherwise!”
“If you made a documentary, what would it be about?” “Charles’ brain. I seriously question what goes on in there sometimes.” “Hey! It’s only you…”  You raise your eyebrows at him, like he’s a liar. “And racing.” “Definitely racing.”
“If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”
Charles smirks deeply, like he knows something the world doesn’t, the interviewer picks up on it. “Wait, you have a tattoo? Can we see it?”
“No! It’s for me only.”
You playfully swat at Charles’ chest, a playful blush coloring your cheeks as you both wander throughout the house, showcasing its beautiful décor. Despite your embarrassment at Charles’ antics, you can’t help but be thankful for him easing your nerves. You weren’t one for the public eye, normally. So, when you agreed to this interview it came out as quite a surprise.
“Okay final question of the day.” 
You both stand by the front door, the interviewer on the front step outside of the home. 
“Hugs or kisses?”
“Definitely ki—” You don’t get to finish your answer as Charles’ fingers grasp onto your neck, his fingers sprawled along your jawline as well, and tugs your face into his. He shuts the door as soon as his tongue slips into your mouth.
It’s a few seconds before you push him off you. “You’re unbelievable!”
A giant smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you. “Only for you, mon chou!”
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trainsinanime · 1 month
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I wonder: Do Americans know about american school buses? Not their existence in general, but how they're seen overseas.
Over here, they're one of the symbols of America, on par with the Statue of Liberty, the flag, the Eagle, and well ahead of any chain restaurant you can name. People won't know any US states, but they will know these vehicles.
The thing is, here in Germany, we don't have dedicated school buses. The general idea is that kids go to school on their own. When that's not practical, they're expected to use (and given free tickets for) public transit. Public transit is designed around this requirement; there are many places where there is a bus, and anyone can get on it, but the route and timetable really only makes sense for school children. In case a dedicated school bus is really needed, that's generally subcontracted out, and the lines either use something like a Sprinter Van for smaller routes, or a normal city or interurban bus (often a used one that's a bit older). School trips are normal public transit, or a rented bus, typically a coach or regional bus.
It's not a perfect system, in the past couple of years there's been an epidemic of people bringing their kids to school in their cars instead of letting them walk, which is less than ideal. It is what it is. But building a dedicated network of public transit lines only for students, and building dedicated vehicles only for that, has never occurred to anyone here.
Of course we know about these buses, from movies and such, but they're as foreign here as cacti or pick-up trucks (actually we're seeing more and more of these here) or yellow cabs (all europeans will assume all cabs in the US are yellow until they actually visit).
You do see these buses here at times, because people still generally like the idea of the US, even if they have a lot of issues with a lot of details, and so folks bring them over, along with stretch limos and stuff (also not really a thing here). And of course, if someone goes to all that trouble, they don't do it to haul school kids, they rent it out for city tours or as a party bus or whatever.
So you see these yellow things as a symbol of faraway places, scenic vistas, some vague undefined idea of freedom that doesn't necessarily hold up to any contact with reality, and it's just a huge part of the whole US aesthetic.
And then you go to a student exchange with the US, and you finally get the chance: You yourself get to ride in one of these iconic chrome yellow buses! It looks just like in the movies! You get in, you drive in them a little…
…and you realise they're shit. Just the worst buses in the western world. Terrible suspension. Uncomfortable seats with weirdly high backs (so they don't have to put seatbelts in, they just restrict how far kids can fly in an accident). Everything made out of the cheapest materials. Turns out the reason why the US uses school buses like that instead of normal modern city buses, which the US has, is to save money and because they just hate kids.
And then it hits you why US Americans say "as American as apple pie", a dish that is made and enjoyed literally anywhere in the world, instead of "as American as yellow school buses". Of course the Americans already knew all this. They got tortured by these things forever. It would never occur to them to see this as a symbol of America, it's just a normal part of life for them. It's a symbol of school and school life and sometimes normalcy, and tells us that these actors getting out of it are supposed to be teenagers, nothing more.
But most people in Europe have, of course, never ridden on these buses. So when they see them in movies and TV, that's a giant big yellow signifier that we're not in Hessen or Wallonia or wherever anymore. A symbol of a different world, one that may be at most a once-in-a-lifetime-experience for most people, just like a picture of a tropical beach, Incan Pyramids, the Great Wall of China, or Hildesheim (there's no reason to go there twice). And I think Americans don't know that, and that's fascinating.
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