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#this is going to be the show to push me to learn
celtic-crossbow · 3 days
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Blood Ties Chapter 26
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Mainly just pregnancy stuff
A/N: I hope I pulled this off while keeping our archer in character. Be gentle.
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gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
You knew it was bothering him, it was evident in the way he moved. The jerking slices of the knife as he made bolts while he sat cross legged on the old railing across from you. You were perched on the porch swing—he had all but jumped up and down on it to make sure it would hold you safely—just watching him, guilt flaring to singe the inside of your chest. He wanted to go on the run, get the things that you and the baby needed, but you were scared. Hershel had said the baby could come any day. It was at your insistence that Daryl wasn’t going. You didn’t have to try hard, mind you. He was worried about leaving you as well.
Still, it wasn’t sitting right with him for the others to be risking their necks for his baby.
“Maybe you should go.” You finally said, picking at your thumbnail. You saw his movements come to an abrupt halt before continuing.
“Nah. Ya need me here.” He sniffed, starting up on another piece of wood. He had legitimate bolts with his crossbow, so you could only assume he was just trying to keep his hands busy. He was so undeniably torn and it was showing.
“I think you should. You know what I need. You’ve read the books. Maggie will be there to help with the medical side of things, the list Hershel made.” You sat up straighter, attempting to massage the little foot away from your ribs. Of course, Daryl noticed.
“S’wrong?” He was climbing off the rail and made it over to you in one long stride, giving you a once over before he sat down. He didn’t ask before taking over for you, lightly rubbing over the little form of toes with the smallest, gentlest of smiles. You’d almost consent to constant discomfort if it meant you’d see more of that expression.
“Thumper has a personal vendetta against my ribcage.” Your head found your partner’s shoulder, watching that same laser focus that had moments ago been on the wood he was carving now honed in on you. For a moment, you were just a couple expecting a baby. For a moment, the world hadn’t ended. For a moment, you had managed to find perfect. “I love you.”
Daryl’s hand froze but for a mere heartbeat before his fingertips continued chasing little toes as if he were playing a game with the baby, when in reality he was simply trying to divert the tiny digits away from your ribs. “So ya keep sayin’.”
“So you keep saying. Is that all you’re ever gonna say?” You weren’t angry, not even frustrated. There was merely a soft curiosity that sat in the back of your mind; along with the little voice that assured you Daryl was yours and you were his, even if he could never say the words.
“Dunno.” It always unsettled you when he spoke so quietly, small and fragile as if he feared his words would end in some sort of pain. God, you wanted to bury his father in a gopher hole, maybe even his mother and brother. It was normal for a person to be unsure of feelings, to question and explore before accepting what they were, good or bad. Daryl didn’t have that capability. He questioned. He explored. And then he feared, good or bad. He didn’t think he deserved good and he was so attuned with bad that it’s what came naturally in his own reactions. Perhaps he thought you were trying to fix him, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t see anything broken. You saw someone who had never been shown what love was supposed to feel like. He wasn’t broken, he just needed to learn, and Daryl was good at learning. 
Still you persevered, your fingers finding their way into his hair, delicately tracing the scar from Andrea’s bullet. “Do you love me, Daryl?” Maybe narrowing it down to a simple yes or no would make it easier for him. Maybe you were pushing him. You would need time if the answer was no but you would be okay. He cared enough to be with you, to raise Thumper as a family. In the end, that was all you needed.
But then his hand stilled on the center of your swollen belly and he lifted his head to seek out your gaze. Even with all the emotion stirring in those stormy pools of blue, you could easily see the fear, but there was something else. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, the color darkening somewhat as it grew. Even with that comforting gesture, you held his gaze, heard his breath stutter, watched his lips move so, so nimbly without a sound. His free hand came up to brush back your own hair, tenderly tucking it behind your ear. As he leaned toward you, the corners of your mouth lifted into a welcoming smile.
“Y/N, I—”
“We’re heading out!” Glenn called from the doorway before stepping onto the porch. Daryl pulled away fast, his hands on his knees, eyes downcast. 
You were going to absolutely torture Glenn before you murdered him.
“You sure you don’t wanna go, Daryl?” Rick had joined Glenn and was checking his weapons before he finally looked up.
Daryl, though, only had eyes for you; his bowed head angled to see you, questioning. 
You sighed with a smile, giving him a nudge with your elbow. “Go. Try to find those bra pad things. Cloths suck and they hurt my nipples.” There was no deeper shade of red that could color his skin. You laughed, loud and true. “Go. We’ll be fine.” Licking his lips nervously, Daryl nodded and left the swing.
T-Dog held out the archer’s bag and crossbow. “Thought you might change your mind. Went ahead and grabbed these.” He only received a nod. 
The group began to descend the steps, but Daryl paused at the end, looking back to you. He closed the distance in seconds, a finger hooking under your chin to lift your face higher, even though you were already looking at him. “Be back ‘fore dark. Promise.”
That earned him one of your sweetest smiles. “We’ll be waiting.” You patted your belly. The rough hand at your chin, moved to your jaw, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. “I love you, Daryl. Be safe.” He hesitated, long enough for something to stir in your chest. Hope? Excitement? Then he merely nodded and was gone.
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You and Lori were given the least strenuous tasks. She was not far behind you. A few weeks, her belly almost as prominent as your own. Luckily, you found it helped for folding clothing before stuffing them in the correct bag. Your bare feet were propped up in a chair across from you, your ankles swollen, squeezed by the socks that you had to wear to keep them warm. Your body just ached all over. Thumper Dixon was playing field hockey with your internal organs and the nausea you had definitely not missed was threatening to make a comeback. You just felt awful.
“The last month is the worst.” Lori commented while packing away some of Carl’s clothing. “And it’ll take a while after the baby comes to feel human again.”
“Growing a human fucking sucks.” You groused, one of Daryl’s few shirts lying spread over your torso. “And goddamnit, I have to pee. I always have to pee.”
“Means you’re hydrated at least. Silver linings.” Lori tittered. If anyone had been watching the two of you battling to your feet, it would have been worthy of more than a few chuckles.
“Thanks for going with me. Daryl would have a kitten if I went alone.” When you straightened, there was an immediate feeling of change in your body that had you looking to Lori, eyes wide. “Holy shit, I can breathe but I feel like I’m gonna piss my pants and my hips hurt.”
She smiled and placed her hands over her own round bump. “The baby dropped. You're carrying differently now. I wish we had a mirror.” 
“Carrying differently? What do you—oh.” You immediately noticed when you began to massage the taut skin that the swell sat lower. You suddenly couldn’t remember a word the old man had said. Were you about to go into labor? How would Daryl know? You couldn’t do it without him.
“Easy, Y/N.” At some point, the other woman had crossed the small space and put her hands on your shoulders, your stomachs brushing against one another. “It just means the baby’s getting ready. Though, I think after this run, Daryl should probably consider staying behind on any others.” You nodded, trying to get your breathing under control. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “Let’s go take care of business and then let Hershel do his daily thing, okay?”
You nodded again, a jerky motion while you trembled. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” You followed behind her, trying to keep your mind on the fact that if you didn’t empty your bladder within the next couple of minutes, you would still be incredibly anxious but you would be so with wet pants. “Maybe the little gremlin can’t reach my ribs now.”
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You felt like crap. All day, you felt heavy and sluggish, swollen and nauseous. By late afternoon, you just couldn’t stand it anymore. 
“Carol.” You spoke her name quietly, leaning onto the dusty countertop to pillow your head on your folded arms. You saw the concern on her face when she turned from canned foods with which she was planning small meals. You couldn’t even wave away her worry. “Do you need my help right now? I think I’d really like to lie down.” 
“Y/N, what’s wrong?” She came to place a hand on your back, rubbing softly. It only succeeded in making your yearn for Daryl to be there, easing your fears in his own Daryl way. He would probably already have an aneurysm when someone told him that you’d done work, light as it was. And then you needed to tell him that the baby had indeed dropped. God, even if you didn’t tell him, he’d notice with that keen eye of his. Your stomach had shifted, still round but lower. There was so much pressure on your pelvis that you thought the bones might separate at any moment. Lori had promised that what you were feeling was normal, that it was simply new and you would take a day or two to adjust unless the baby decided to make its debut before you could.
“I just don’t feel well.” You stood straighter, nodding that she could remove her hand and you were fine. “I’d rather have Daryl come back to me feeling like shit and resting than to me feeling like shit and trying to help get things done.”
“I can’t argue with that.” She laughed. 
Carol was about the only other person in the group that Daryl dropped any of his walls around. With Rick, it was all business. There was respect there, but not yet friendship. You could see it though, the subtle changes in your hunter. He was getting comfortable around these people. It was a snail’s pace but if they were anything like you hoped they were, he would be granted their patience. God knew, he had earned it. 
“Come on.” Carol urged. “Let’s get you settled.” 
With each step, you whined, feeling less and less like the woman you had been only months before, like she had been left behind somewhere, starved or trampled by a herd. “I hate this. Is it wrong to hate this?” You grimaced at Carol who only chuckled breathily, her hand resting on your cheek.
“It’s not wrong. This is a lot. Our bodies do a lot.” A couple of soft pats and then she bent down to straighten the bedroll and arrange the blankets. 
You were watching, actually finding yourself excited to be off your feet and deciding that a nap wouldn’t be so horrible when there was a strange feeling low in your belly. It started as a gradual tightening but soon turned into an unyielding cramp, your stomach hard beneath your hands as you grabbed for your sweater. You gasped Carol’s name, could hear her clearly calling for Hershel but you couldn’t seem to respond, swallowed up by every fear that had been looming like a dark shadow for the past few weeks. The pain wasn’t even horrible, not like you had imagined at all. But it was terrifying. The only thing you could think of to do was hold the area that housed your little Thumper and whimper out Daryl’s name.
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A bed had been cleared, dusted, and made for you in the downstairs room. As you laid there, resting, and stared at the half empty cup of water on the bedside table, you overheard Beth and Carl animatedly re-telling how two walkers had shuffled by the driveway gate. The children had hid and remained quiet, reporting that no others were seen once those two had moved on. You weren’t naive enough to hope that it didn’t mean more were coming. The group would need to pack up and head out likely within the next day or so. 
“Braxton Hicks.” Hershel had stated matter-of-factly. He had expressed that he was actually surprised you hadn’t experienced them before then, added that maybe you had but they were so mild that you just didn’t notice. You had two more instances over the course of three hours but nothing since then, though your body seemed to be in a constant state of dread, waiting for another to happen; for it to be more than what Hershel had said. You were waiting for something to be wrong.
Beyond the dusty, tattered green curtains, you could see the light fading. Daryl would be back soon. Would he blame you for bringing this on by doing a little work? Would he be angry? He’d be beside himself with worry, that much was a given. Hershel had said you could do small chores, that it was good for you to be moving, but what if Daryl didn’t see it that way? The morning had started so perfectly. The conversation had been left unfinished but it didn’t seem to have been heading anywhere bleak. 
“Ugh.” You didn’t know what was more exhausting, your body or your brain. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind ran rampant with each and every wildly negative scenario it could possibly conjure. You groaned and rolled to your other side despite the effort and apprehensiveness of even moving. Letting your eyes close yet again, you fought against the intrusive thoughts, forcing images of what Thumper might look like instead. A little girl with Daryl’s eyes and your smile. A little boy with unruly light hair like Daryl’s had been, a constant scowl. You laughed softly, wetly, shedding a few tears around your smile. No matter the sex of the baby, you hoped for Daryl’s eyes. They were the one thing to always gave him away, no matter what expression he wore. With a baby that couldn’t communicate needs and wants, you would at least have that in your corner.
At some point, you must have dozed off, opening your eyes to the sound of the old truck Daryl was driving. Looking to the window, you could see the faint light of dusk giving way to the moon. He’d kept his promise, albeit barely. You didn’t care as long as he was back. Shifting and struggling, you finally made it upright just as you heard Glenn’s all too cheerful voice, though you couldn’t make out the words. Rick’s few words trailed right after. Then there was Daryl. He spoke but then there was nothing more than hushed tones. Hershel offering the day's events, most likely. A thud was followed by echoing stomps of boots pounding against the hardwood floors.
“Where is she?” Daryl roared, closer to the door.
“She’s fine, son. She’s resting. This is normal. It just caused a bit of a fright. She just—”
“Where. Is. She?!”
The old man must have nodded or pointed because the next thing you knew, the door was swinging open with Daryl’s silhouette backdropped by the soft candlelight in the other room. His shoulders were heaving in what sounded so close to sobs that you squinted your eyes for a chance to catch his expression before he moved, startling you with how quickly he had one knee on the bed and was leaning in to check you over himself. He was filthy, mostly dirt and grime, but spots of walker blood and a cut across his cheek that was no longer bleeding. 
“What happened?” You asked, reaching for his face but letting your hand hover in fear of hurting him.
“Don’t matter. Ya alright? Baby okay?” He was breathless, either from his haste to get to you or maybe just with worry. He was touching you without hesitance, his hands in a mad rush to feel your face, neck, your belly. You watched his eyes go wide and knew exactly what it meant. “Why’s it look diff’rent?” 
“Thumper dropped.” His eyes were dancing back and forth as he flipped through his mental catalog of reading material and Hershel’s words. Relief was evident in his posture when he recalled what he had been searching for, but he was still tense.
“Hershel said ya was crampin’. The fake shit. Does it hurt now?” You shook your head and watched him finally sink onto his hip beside you, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Shouldn’a gone. Ya didn’t need to be alone through that.” 
“Hey.” You leaned as far as you could, to guide his hand away with one hand while the other used his chin to turn his face toward you. “I wasn’t alone and we’re okay. It’s just my body getting ready.” Daryl’s head tilted, his expression displaying his gratitude for your attempts at consolation but also heavy laden with guilt for leaving you there. “Daryl, you had to go.”
“Didn’t hafta do nothin’. Could’a stayed right here where ya need me to be.” 
He hadn’t asked what you had been doing. Maybe it wasn’t that important to him after all. He seemed to be more concerned with what happened and how you currently felt than anything. You truly needed to start trusting him as you wanted so badly for him to trust you. Your palm left his face and wrapped around the back of his neck, not needing much pressure to pull him to you for your lips to press against his. It was gentle and chaste, his hand leaving your belly to cup your jaw.
“We’re okay and you’re here now.” You soothed, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Just—no more runs until Thumper’s here, okay?”
“No more runs.” He agreed, his eyes closed, forehead against yours. “Ain’t leavin’ ya again.” His hand lowered back to your belly, rubbing back and forth. It was always the most tender thing you’d ever seen from him. You didn’t think him the type but he actually seemed to be calmed by the action. “D’ya need anythin’?”
“Just you.” You let him help you lie back, but he didn’t follow. 
“Need to clean up. I’ll be quick.” He made to stand up but you grabbed his forearm and pulled yourself up again, not stopping once you got there. He gave in to your incessant tugging and wrapped his arms around you. “You’re gonna need to change too now.” You sniffled, trying hard not to cry, but you were just so overwhelmed with relief that he was back in one piece, that nothing bad had truly happened, that he was going to stay. “Don’t cry, woman. M’here.”
“I know. I’m just—I’m happy. I have you and Thumper. And—I don’t deserve you, Daryl Dixon.”
Daryl scoffed, rubbing his cheek against the crown of your head. “Ya deserve way better than me, Sunshine.” He took a deep breath that actually shifted you against his chest and then he was tightening his embrace. “But I love ya. An’ m’here unless ya tell me to get lost.” He pulled away before you could say anything, heading quickly for the door with one last look before he walked out. You were stunned frozen, silent. 
He said it.
He said it and you could feel that he meant it. His actions had always conveyed it, but hearing it from his mouth was everything. 
Thumper rolled and kicked before going still, reacting to all the emotions you were feeding to them through your bond. When you laid down again, it wasn’t hard to fall asleep. No wicked images formed behind your eyes. Just those words replaying in your head, a baby’s tiny hand gripping a large finger. A child’s giggle. And then his voice again.
Your eyes didn’t want to obey when you bid them to open, the mattress dipping beside you, the sheets moving. A warm arm pulled you against an even warmer body, enveloping you in a veil of safety.
Everything would be okay.
Because you loved Daryl.
And Daryl loved you.
212 notes · View notes
d1xonss · 2 days
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H EY could you possibly write a fic where the readers been on some heat the whole day just overall pissed, then there’s a fight outbreak in Alexandria and everyone crowding around & people calling Daryl so he comes, just to realise it’s his girl and he has to restrain her, pulling her away so she doesn’t continue beating the shit out of whoever and she’s MAD so he has to calm her down and gets her to just talk to him so he can help her. Just a thought yk 😛
Sticks and Stones
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 5
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : Fluff
✧ Word Count : 3k
AN ~ I like this idea a lot! Just the thought of Daryl helping her clean up and take care of her after something like this just makes me melt. ps- Sorry for the inactiveness lately, April has already been such a crazy month for me and I've sadly had little to no time to write. But I'll definitely start getting back on track soon. Hope you enjoy!
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The weather was hot, sticky, and humid. Your hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up everywhere as you worked in the miserable weather. You were sweating in places you didn’t even think were possible to sweat from. Bottom line was, you were miserable.
The bad mood that was embedded in you only seemed to grow as the day dragged on longer and longer. It was bad enough that your group joined this new community in the first place, having to live with all of these complete strangers after everything you had been through with your family. But what seemed to make it even worse, was this community had some high expectations upon your arrival. The leader, Deanna, made it very clear that she wanted each and every one of you working like dogs in order to do your part just like everyone else.
Meanwhile her sons were sitting in their air conditioned houses without lifting a damn finger.
Though you didn’t mind putting in the work, in fact, that was all you did your whole life. You were never handed a damn thing, needing to learn to find your own way in life and work for everything you got instead of being spoiled rotten. But again, you didn’t mind. The only thing that bugged you was that there were clearly a few favorites that got special treatment. Though you weren’t just talking about Deanna’s sons.
For the past couple of days you had been scheduled to work with a small group of others that you tried to play nice with. And for the most part, they all seemed friendly enough, willing to pitch in and do the part they were told to complete. Everyone…except for this one bitch who seemed to love getting a rise out of you.
You didn’t know her name, you couldn’t be bothered to learn it. But that didn’t mean the urge for punching her in her stupid, fake ass face wasn’t growing the longer you were in the same vicinity. She didn’t do a damn thing other than tell every other person what to do. And she always seemed to make it her mission to get under your skin at least once a day to really add to your sour mood, really wanting to see how far she could push you. But you, of course, always did nothing. It’s not because you weren’t capable of defending yourself, but you knew even one screw up could get you, and possibly the rest of your family kicked out of here.
You didn’t want to take that chance. After all, this whole opportunity and hard work was the chance to prove that you were all worthy to stay within the thick, sturdy walls they had built. You didn’t want to screw it up for yourself, but you especially didn’t want to screw it up for anyone else. Which is why you kept to yourself for the most part, only smiling politely to the ones who showed you even an ounce of kindness as they passed by with a friendly greeting. Other than that your eyes just stayed down, in hopes that somehow the day would go by faster that way.
You and a few others were currently in the large garden that was placed practically directly in the middle of the community, instructed to pick the fruits and vegetables that were ripe enough to bring back to the pantry. The job was simple enough, knowing that when this last basket of yours was full, you would take everything back, wash them off, and place them in the right sections before finally heading back to your new home. You could practically hear the cool shower calling your name from all the way over here.
Though subconsciously, your gaze traveled up a few different times to keep an eye out for Daryl, seeing if he was maybe passing the area. You didn’t necessarily know the job he was given for the day, but what you did know was that it was hot as fuck outside. And seeing Daryl with his arms exposed, the signature leather vest, and sweat glistening off of him…the sight would surely make your day ten times better than how it was going.
But everytime you did a subtle scan, he was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but sigh a bit dramatically as all you wanted was to take him home and use that last bit of energy you had left.
“Hey!”
You were snapped out of your lustful daze suddenly when you heard a familiar voice from the other end of the space, seeing the one blonde bitch who wouldn’t get off your back, her face scowling into a glare.
You raised your arms up from your slightly crouched position, “What?”
“I can see you slacking off from all the way over here, get back to work!” she called with her hands sassily on her hips.
You sent her a bitter smile before ducking your head back down in attempts to pull yourself together, “Oh, I’ll get back to work.” you spoke under your breath, “Work on shoving this foot up your ass.” you grumbled as you began picking a few more ripe strawberries.
A few minutes of peace passed, moving down the line as you scanned for any more things that were ready to be picked off the vine. Your small basket sat by your feet as it was nearly filled to the brim with the amount of fruit you collected over the past hour or so. That is…until it wasn’t.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see someone’s shadow coming from your left as whoever it was seemed to just be passing by. But the sound of their foot coming in contact with the wooden basket right beside you is what caused your gaze to snap up, already knowing who the hell it was. Her blonde hair blowing behind her as she didn’t even stop to look at the mess she made was kind of a dead giveaway.
You shot up to your feet as annoyance began to quickly overtake you, causing you to open your mouth before you even got a chance to think twice. “What the fuck?” you called after her.
She turned around on instinct, as if she was expecting you to say something, a small smirk on her face as she shrugged. “What?”
You pressed your lips together as your annoyance grew, stepping up closer to her so you could keep the conversation quiet, “What the hell is your problem? You don’t think I can tell you’re doing this shit on purpose?”
“Oh I know you can.” she said with a bitchy tilt of her head, her arms coming to cross over her chest, “I’m just wondering when the fuck you’re going to get a clue.”
“Well, why don’t you just spell it out for me, because I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the same bullshit from you.” you stated bluntly.
She scoffed, “You and your grubby little group don’t belong here.” she spat harshly, “None of you are what we need for this community, in fact, you’re only tearing us down. I don’t even know why Deanna let you people in here in the first place.”
Her words caused your eyebrows to fly up in utter surprise. You expected her to attack you, shoot insults directed toward you. But you never expected in a million years that she would have the audacity to go after your family the way she did with little to no reason at all. 
And in the end, that’s what pushed you over the edge as you laughed at her, not needing to come up with a single response as you had a few other things in mind.
Daryl was on the other end of the community, patrolling around the streets when he heard the sudden commotion. At first he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going down, only seeing a swarm of people flooding toward one area where lots of shouts and panicked voices were coming from. Curiosity eventually got the better of him as his brows furrowed in confusion, his pace picking up as he approached the gardens, opening the white gates to step inside.
His eyes squinted as he could tell there was some sort of fight breaking out, the people surrounding them either cheering them on, or trying to rip them apart. He leaned from side to side, trying to see who was in the middle of it all as he silently prayed he was wrong about what he originally assumed. But then there was a small parting in the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse in between them, and his face dropped.
Some random guy was holding you back as you attempted to hit the blonde girl at the other end of the circle they created, clawing out of his grip every so often to get another swing in while she cried. Daryl then didn’t waste another second, harshly shoving his way through the crowd to get to you in attempts to stop you from doing anymore damage. It was almost like he couldn’t get to you fast enough, either that, or you were just quick when it came to nearly tearing her head off.
“Hey!” he shouted once he was close enough, pulling you out of the man’s grasp in attempts to hold you back himself, “Stop!”
You hardly even heard his voice, your ears ringing as you continued to try and pry his hands off of you, desperately trying to swing again as the woman sobbed. Her nose bloody and a bruise forming on her right cheek. She clearly couldn’t fight for shit considering she had such a big mouth.
Daryl groaned as he yanked you back harshly, “Damnit (Y/N), I said stop!” he shouted once more, his voice enough to silence everyone in an instant.
The familiar voice then finally registered with you as well, whipping your head around quickly to see him, smoke nearly coming out of his ears. Your face softened as you instantly came to the realization of the damage you just caused, the potential outcome of your actions suddenly terrifying you.
Your head shook slightly as you tried to speak, “I-”
“Get back to the house.”
His tone was firm, but somehow still held a bit of gentleness. You sighed as you took yourself out of his hold, not needing to be told twice as you slowly began to walk out of the crowded area. Now seeing the amount of people that witnessed your meltdown, you suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, feeling all their watchful eyes on you as Daryl quickly ushered you the rest of the way out. The last thing you barely caught a glimpse of, was a few others crowding around the blonde as she continued to cry her eyes out with her beaten face.
There wasn’t a single word spoken between the two of you. Just silence. And it was killing you.
He didn’t utter a word, only gesturing you into the bathroom for you to sit at the edge of the tub, before pulling out a first aid kid from the closet. Your brows furrowed in confusion as she hadn’t laid a hand on you, but then your eyes traveled down to your own hands, seeing how cut up and bloody they were. The pain hadn’t even registered to you, you hardly felt the sting at all as if your adrenaline was still pumping fast through your system.
Daryl wordlessly kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands with such softness in his touch as he cleaned you up with precision. You could tell he was trying to be as careful as he could, despite the fact that he was probably upset. Hell, the whole group would probably be upset with you for a while, over something that you could now never take back. Something that you could never undo. All because you couldn’t keep your head on straight.
You were forced to think about it even more as the silence only lingered, playing the imagines back over and over again in your mind. You wanted to say it was worth it, to see her actually get somewhat of a taste of her own bitter medicine, knowing now she would probably never fuck with you again. But the fate of the future, what would come next, still weighed heavily on you as it was clearly unknown.
You then sighed softly as you looked down at him, “I…I’m sorry.” your voice spoke barely above a whisper.
He nodded as he kept his eyes down, finishing up your left hand as he wrapped it in some bandages, “I know ya are.”
“You don’t know the things she was saying…what she’s been doing ever since we fucking got here. God…I know I shouldn’t have taken it that far, but that bitch got what she deserves, trust me.” you spoke bitterly, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.
Daryl’s eyes then glanced up to you, a small smile on his lips as he nodded again, “I know.”
Your brows furrowed in both confusion and surprise, “You’re…you’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” he asked, his voice a lot more gentle than it was before. But then again you could only assume it was all just the heat of the moment.
You shook your head softly, “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down to your hands as you slightly examined them, mostly to avoid his eyes as you knew he would be able to see right through you.
And he did. His brows furrowed as a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, “Yeah ya do. You just don’t wanna say it.”
A heavy sigh passed through your lips as you looked back up at him, “I just…I know that doing that was a big mistake.”
His eyes softened as he heard the timidness in your tone, “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.” he said as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, “It’s alright.”
“No…that’s not what I mean.” you said with a shake of your head, “I…I fucked up…I fucked up everything. Once Deanna finds out what happened, once she finds out that we can’t work with her people, she’ll kick us out. And then we’ll be back on the road without any food, or water, or anything. We barely made it last time, I-”
“Hey.” Daryl interrupted you softly, raising his hands to gently grip your forearms, “What are ya talkin about? None of that’s gonna happen.”
“But she’s already weary of us, we’re the big, scary outside people. The second she realizes that we won’t be able to fit in here, there’s no way she’ll let us stay.”
The man in front of you couldn’t help but smirk, which at first confused you, but then you found yourself rolling your eyes. “The big, scary outside people?” he repeated with a light chuckle.
You gave him a pointed look, “This is serious.”
“I know, I know.” he assured, “But I also know you’ve been bustin yer ass damn near everyday tryin to prove that you can be trusted here. That we can be trusted here. So…I think right now, you just need to take a second and breathe…okay?”
You stared at him for a moment before swallowing a bit thickly and nodding your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your nerves. It felt like your brain was scattered all over the place and you knew he was right in saying that you just needed to fucking chill out for a second. You still had your worries about the outcome, but for some reason the longer you looked at the man sitting in front of you, the more those thoughts started to disappear.
After a few moments of silence, you felt him gently squeeze your arms again as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, “Ya got pretty worked up back there, killer. And I don’t think this stress and worryin is helpin. We’re here for a reason…to have a fighting chance. And you just gotta trust that over time, everythin’s just gonna work itself out…no matter what.”
He was so confident in his words, it made you want to feel confident too. It made you want to believe that this would all pass, and you didn’t completely screw up this opportunity like you assumed. Though there was still something else on your mind.
“But what about the fight? I mean…I messed her up pretty bad.” 
He simply shrugged, “Good.”
Your eyebrows raised in slight shock, “What?”
“That bitch got what was coming to her. Truth is, ever since ya told me about what’s been goin on, I’ve been dyin for ya to knock some damn sense into her. If anything, I wanted to cheer you on.” he winked.
You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you always have been my biggest supporter…” you trailed off as you looked down toward your hands again, “And the best doctor around.”
He hummed with a small smile before grasping your hands gently, raising them up to his mouth to leave a few kisses on the back of your bandaged knuckles as if to seal the healing process.
You smiled a little to yourself at his actions, “So…you really think we’ll be okay?”
“We’ll be just fine.” he muttered as he placed one final kiss on your skin, “It’ll breeze over, people will move on. Cause I think they all kinda know she was the problem to begin with.”
“God, I hope so.” you scoffed, “And even though I kinda lost it…it felt good.” you admitted almost a bit sheepishly.
He chuckled as he pulled at your hands a little, helping you stand back up to your feet as he did, “Looked pretty good too.” he confirmed as he held you close, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I think you could use some kinda award for doin that.”
You smirked as you looked up at him, “Well…I could use a massage.”
He smiled right back at you as he nodded, “Done.”
~ Thanks for reading!
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Hey, would you be willing to elaborate on that "disappearance of the Anasazi is bs" thing? I've heard something like that before but don't know much about it and would be interested to learn more. Or just like point me to a paper or yt video or something if you don't want to explain right now? Thanks!
I’m traveling to an archaeology conference right now, so this sounds like a great way to spend my airport time! @aurpiment you were wondering too—
“Anasazi” is an archaeological name given to the ancestral Puebloan cultural group in the US Southwest. It’s a Diné (Navajo) term and Modern Pueblos don’t like it and find it othering, so current archaeological best practices is to call this cultural group Ancestral Puebloans. (This is politically complicated because the Diné and Apache nations and groups still prefer “Anasazi” because through cultural interaction, mixing, and migration they also have ancestry among those people and they object to their ancestry being linguistically excluded… demonyms! Politically fraught always!)
However. The difficulties of explaining how descendant communities want to call this group kind of immediately shows: there are descendant communities. The “Anasazi” are Ancestral Purbloans. They are the ancestors of the modern Pueblos.
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The Ancestral Puebloans as a distinct cultural group defined by similar material culture aspects arose 1200-500 BCE, depending on what you consider core cultural traits, and we generally stop talking about “Ancestral Puebloan” around 1450 CE. These were a group of people who lived in northern Arizona and New Mexico, and southern Colorado and Utah—the “Four Corners” region. There were of course different Ancestral Pueblo groups, political organizations, and cultures over the centuries—Chaco Canyon, Mesa Verde, Kayenta, Tusayan, Ancestral Hopi—but they generally share some traits like religious sodality worship in subterranean circular kivas, residence in square adobe roomblocks around central plazas, maize farming practices, and styles of coil-and-scrape constructed black-on-white and black-on-red pottery.
The most famous Ancestral Pueblo/“Anasazi” sites are the Cliff Palace and associated cliff dwellings of Mesa Verde in southwestern Colorado:
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When Europeans/Euro-Americans first found these majestic places, people had not been living in them for centuries. It was a big mystery to them—where did the people who built these cliff cities go? SURELY they were too complex and dramatic to have been built by the Native people who currently lived along the Rio Grande and cited these places as the homes of their ancestors!
So. Like so much else in American history: this mystery is like, 75% racism.
But WHY did the people of Mesa Verde all suddenly leave en masse in the late 1200s, depopulating the whole Mesa Verde region and moving south? That was a mystery. But now—between tree-ring climatological studies, extensive archaeology in this region, and actually listening to Pueblo people’s historical narratives—a lot of it is pretty well-understood. Anything archaeological is inherently, somewhat mysterious, because we have to make our best interpretations of often-scant remaining data, but it’s not some Big Mystery. There was a drought, and people moved south to settle along rivers.
There’s more to it than that—the 21-year drought from 1275-1296 went on unusually long, but it also came at a time when the attempted re-establishment of Chaco cultural organization at the confusingly-and-also-racist-assuption-ly-named Aztec Ruin in northern New Mexico was on the decline anyway, and the political situation of Mesa Verde caused instability and conflict with the extra drought pressures, and archaeologists still strenuously debate whether Athabaskans (ancestors of the Navajo and Apache) moved into the Four Corners region in this time or later, and whether that caused any push-out pressures…
But when I tell people I study Southwest archaeology, I still often hear, “Oh, isn’t it still a big mystery, what happened to the Anasazi? Didn’t they disappear?”
And the answer is. They didn’t disappear. Their descendants simply now live at Hopi, Zuni, Taos, Picuris, Acoma, Cochiti, Isleta, Jemez, Laguna, Nambé, Ohkay Owingeh, Pojoaque, Sandia, San Felipe, Santa Clara, San Ildefonso, Tamaya/Santa Ana, Kewa/Santo Domingo, Tesuque, Zia, and Ysleta del Sur. And/or married into Navajo and Apache groups. The Anasazi/Ancestral Puebloans didn’t disappear any more than you can say the Ancient Romans disappeared because the Coliseum is a ruin that’s not used anymore. And honestly, for the majority of archaeological mysteries about “disappearance,” this is the answer—the socio-political organization changed to something less obvious in the archaeological record, but the people didn’t disappear, they’re still there.
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withahappyrefrain · 2 days
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YESS the “she can take it” SO HOT..like yeah Jake is being kinda dominate..fucking you..but Bob is just barking orders, pushing around, just being IN CHARGE like..owning the whole room, taking up space, just DOMINANT
"She's not made out of glass y'know," Bob chuckles, his shadow looming over you and Jake.
Jake lets out a frustrated grunt, greatly missing the days where Bob wouldn't talk to him unless he said something stupid.
Bob on the other hand, was getting immense joy from this hands on lesson you and he were providing Jake with.
When it came to sex, the Floyd's were not the first thing that came to Jake's mind. But after walking in on you two in the Hard Deck's bathroom, the pilot was intrigued.
He also realized that despite his years of experience, he still had a lot to learn.
The latest thrust from Jake pulls a whine from your lips. His cock feels great, but it's not quite reaching the spot that makes you see stars. At least, not yet.
You give the blonde an encouraging smile, "Bob's right. You can be rougher if you want."
Your husband leaned over, just three of his long fingers easily able to grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
"Going by what he wants is exactly why our little friend is in this situation," Bob said through gritted teeth. Jake held back a comment on height upon recalling that Bob was in fact taller than him by several inches.
Vertical and horizontal.
"Now sweetie, tell Jake, what is it that you want?"
You looked into Jake's sea green eyes, "I want you to make me come. Without touching my clit."
Jake opened his mouth, ready to scoff at such a thing being possible. But then he recalled you and Bob in the bathroom, you sat on the counter while Bob thrust into you. He had made you come with just his cock, something Jake had yet to master.
"Can you.....help me?" Jake's voice was all but a whisper. You nodded, sending a knowing smile to Bob.
"Push her knees up to her chest, she'll feel your cock way better," Bob ordered.
"That's comfortable?" Jake asked.
Bob simply nodded, "She can take it. Plus it makes her feel dirty, which she loves. Isn't that right darlin'?"
Warmth flooded your face at Bob's nickname for you. Your husband tapped his long fingers against your mouth. Immediately, your lips parted, moaning upon feeling the digits on your tongue.
The sight makes Jake's cock twitch. Two weeks ago, he would have confidently said he was dominant in the bedroom.
Now?
He wasn't so sure. He still liked being in charge. But Bob was different. The quiet backseater had a way of commanding in the bedroom and Jake would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous.
A sharp slap against his thighs broke Jake out of his thoughts.
"Can you listen? Or do you need me to show you how she likes to be fucked? Again?"
Jake holds back a sarcastic comment. His ass is still healing from Bob's last punishment.
And he really needs to come.
So he hoists your legs up, pushing your knees to your chest. The new angle causes you to throw back your head now that you could feel Jake's cock even deeper.
"Fuck, r-right there!"
Bob smirks, "Told ya."
Jake mutters something indignant.
"What was that?" Bob's breath is hot on the shell of Jake's ear. The searing pain from his hair being pulled on went straight to his cock.
"Kiss his neck Bobby, he loves that," you giggled from underneath.
"If she's able to talk you're not fucking her hard enough. Go ahead Jake, fuck my wife."
Jake regretted every "baby on board" joke he had ever made.
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luceracastro · 2 days
Text
𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒
𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Bayona believes his shy niece just needs to be surrounded by people close to her age, so he allows her to come along for the filming of his next big movie and one of his actors become taken with the young girl
Warnings: this fic will have warnings as the chapters go, this is an age gap relationship
You were always quiet, shy, and not really put out there since you were consumed with the fear of being humiliated, being shy was what mostly stopped you from common life experiences.
It was why your mom was pushing you at the moment to travel with your uncle, “Amor sería algo bueno para ti, estarías con gente cerca a tu edad” she said and you shook you head “no mami, la verdad no me convence” you sighed
Ever since this whole shy thing got into you, you had gained a handful of activities such as art, whether it was painting or sketching, reading, baking, even needle work which you took the time to learn just to distract you from the real world
You were a college student and focused on school as well so it wasn’t a huge problem when school work and class filled your schedule, “como sabes que no vas a disfrutar esto?” She asked and you gave her a look “mami, yo no conozco a nadie de ahí como voy a nomas llegar?” You asked
She chuckled “amor te juro que esto sería algo muy bueno para ti” she promised and you sighed “bueno bueno nomas una semana y regreso” you said with a slight warning edge in your tone “si corazón si! Deja llamo a tu tío!” You mom had a skip in her step as she went to grab her phone
You knitted your brows in confusion and turned back to the cookies you were baking, there you realized maybe she was right.
You were seated on the plane with your eyes glued to your book and AirPods in your ears, a tactic to keep anyone from speaking to you, you were making way to Spain where filming would take place
Now you were stuck in the airport waiting for your uncle to come and get you, you sat inside of the airports coffee shop drinking a latte and listening to music, you now kinda felt homesick, missed your mom and home
Hands on your shoulders startled you but you calmed down once you saw your uncle standing behind you with a delighted smile on his face, you paused your music and stood up “Tío” you smiled giving him a hug “hola amor como estas?”
“Bien, y tu?” You asked “muy bien, pero vamos amor porque quiero que conoces a todos!” He sounded quite excited for you to meet them, way more excited than you that’s for sure.
He had gotten you both down to where the entire casts was staying, their home for a few months, the hotel was huge and it was also a bit intimidating, how many people stayed here? How long? Would you have to interact with any of them?
Your uncle has someone take care of bringing your bags up but in the meanwhile he led you up the elevator, down the hall and looking at the many numbers of the various doors until you both reached the right one “aquí” he sighed satisfied and scanned the keycard before swinging open the door
“Esto sería tu hogar por unos meses” you cringed a bit at that, you knew you would go home in a week, “esta bien tío,” he nodded “bueno vamos a que conoces a los actores” you gave a protesting look and he chuckled a humorous smile on his lips “vamos” he said with a slight demanding edge in his voice and you sighed following after him
“Este es el lobby privado donde pueden estar juntos y convivir” he showed you a private lobby which was filled with many people, you froze up but tried to keep calm “Chicos!” His voice caught the attention of everyone then their eyes landed on you
“Ven, quiero que conozcan a una persona muy importante” they all walked over and stood in front of you and your uncle “Ella es T/n, mi sobrina y ella nos va a acompañar en esta rodaje” he said and they all smiled at you which you returned to not be rude
“Y espero que todos se comporten bien con ella” he warned almost making you want to run back to your room, it wasn’t their job to take care of you “Si como no” a certain tall guy was the first to answer “Ah perfecto, Mira el es Enzo” he came forward and your breath caught in your throat “Hola” his voice was sweet and not very intimidating “Hola” you let out a small sigh of relief
“Bueno los dejo” you uncle was quick to leave and you looked back to see them all coming towards you “Hola, me llamo Fran” his hand extended towards you and you took it, he looked nice, like the sun in a way, very sunshine like “me llamo Juani, como era que te llamabas?” You forced yourself to speak “T/n”
He nodded “bonito nombre” you smiled shyly “gracias” you were slightly overwhelmed but tried to stay calm, plus they all seemed nice enough, after they all introduced themselves to you, you thought you could sneak off but a hand grabbed yours, you turned to see Alfonsina
“Ven siéntate con nosotros,” you could not say no to the kind girl “bueno, si esta bien” she led you to sit on a couch right in between her and Enzo, “entonces donde creciste?” Alfonsina asked and you looked at her “Barcelona, España Barcelona” you answered and she nodded “y tu?” You managed to ask “Montevideo” she answered and you nodded “escuche que Uruguay es muy lindo” you said and she nodded
“Lo es” you nodded “y tu estudias?” You did actually “Si,” she smiled “Que bueno, y que es lo que estudias?” She asked “estudio biología” she nodded “Que bueno, y vas en persona o lo estas haciendo en línea?” At the time you were doing it online especially since you were here and not where your college was
“Por ahora hago en línea” she nodded “y que te gusta hacer en tu tiempo libre?” She then asked “bueno me gusta hacer arte como pintar, dibujar y también me gusta leer y escuchar música” you felt like she was doing all the talking “y a ti, que te gusta hacer?” You asked “bueno me la paso en el teatro pero también me agrada leer, estar en la música o salir con amigas”
You and Alfonsina passed time just talking and you began to let loose and open up to her, she was really nice and sweet, she was patient and understanding of why you even took a while to start engaging into the conversation
You finally were able to get back to your hotel room and you were proud to have actually been able to hold a conversation with someone, a knock on your door did slightly startle you, walking over and opening it you didn’t expect to find Enzo standing there
“Hola linda” he smiled, you stood like a deer caught in the headlights “Hola” you saw your phone in his hands “lo dejaste en el lobby” he handed it to you and you nodded a small smile on your lips “gracias, de verdad” he nodded “Nada que agradecer linda, vas a desayunar con nosotros mañana verdad?” He asked and your confused face gave away that you had no idea what he was talking about
“En el Lobby nos sirven la comidas y me gustaría si tú nos acompañarás para el desayuno” he said and you nodded, it was all you could do “Si, si como no” you chuckled and he did the same nodding “bueno linda buenas noches, descansa bien” you nodded “tu también, buenas noches
He walked down the hall and you closed the door, you looked down at your almost dead phone and sighed. “Oye la sobrina de Bayona está hermosa” Simón said and Enzo looked over at him “si esta hermosa, pero con respecto es la sobrina” he nudged Simon making Matias and Pipe chuckle
“Oye pero porque crees que ella vino al rodaje?” Pipe asked and Alfonsina sighed “se ve un poco tímida y penosa, pero es muy linda a lo mejor tiene que ver con eso” she shrugged “bueno a lo mejor”
“Le dije que debe de desayunar con nosotros mañana” Enzo said “Buen idea” Matías agreed. They all retreaded to their rooms after their smoke break.
A/n: So not a lot in this chapter but more will come I promise my loves! Also I hope you all enjoy this part and likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated but not required my babies just as long as you enjoy the read, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged!
Taglist: @creative-heart @espinasrubi @castawaycherry @madame-fear @luv4fati
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magicalrocketships · 3 days
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Hello! I hope you are most well. I just got to share your baby Daniel in the going -Small verse with a friend, special place in my heart for him. Then I thought about it for two long and my thoughts wandered off rabbit-hole style. Do you have any thoughts on how adult Max might react if he'd met baby Daniel after his embarassment about going small and living with Daniel for three months? Baby Daniel doesn't know that! He just wants to love on Max.
Sending love, hugs, and cheesy garlic bread <3
Oh I HAVE thought about this a lot. Unfortunately my eyes are pretty blurry today (love you chronic illness, kiss kiss) so let's have some brief thoughts at 175% zoom and I'll come back to it another time
Max IS going to meet baby Daniel again. He's also going to meet baby Daniel when he's baby Max as well (and Daniel's mum and dad look after them). 
Max when he Goes Small doesn't have his competitiveness; he doesn't want to fight, he doesn't want to race, he doesn't want to come first. And a Max who isn't competitive and therefore also doesn't have to push through fear and never show it gets to… explore things differently this time around. And it's not just Max that learns that, it's Daniel too, looking after him. But it's Max who's ashamed of this little baby Max and doesn't want to be connected to him, wants to run away from him when he's big again. 
When Daniel Goes Small he doesn't feel fear, really (except if there's a dog, and he hides behind Max) - or rather; he does feel fear but he often doesn't know he should be scared. He wants to climb on the balcony wall to look over the side and see how far down it is (he's not huge on heights when he sees). He wants to ride his bike really fast and jump in the pool and make a big splash and he's not cold (he's really cold) and go in the fast car and can Max go faster please (holds on very tight to the seat but says wow extremely reverentially afterwards). He'll climb on things he shouldn't climb on, and open things he shouldn't open, and trusts everybody, and hates bedtime so Max has to carry a passed out Daniel to bed every night because he does not know how to get him to go to bed, and Max spends three days looking after him and at the end of it he's exhausted. 
But Max doesn't once think that Daniel should be embarrassed about baby Daniel when he Goes Big again. Not even when Daniel skids off his bike on the second day and takes all the skin off his knees and his elbow, and he cries loud and hard because there's blood and it's run down his knee and hit his sock, and Max ends up using half of some other mum's first aid kit to wipe the dirt out of Daniel's grazes and get antiseptic on them and plasters. Daniel gets to have chicken nuggets afterwards as a treat, and there's a little bit of Max that knows, when he was a kid, crying wasn't something he could do to get a hug and some chicken nuggets. And Daniel had instinctively cried out Max's name, but Max had already been running across the bike track to make sure he was okay. 
When Daniel Goes Big, he says thanks for looking after me, like he and little Daniel are the same person, like he's okay being a curly haired kid with poor judgment. Max says, "You will have to keep looking after your knees, the grazes are quite bad." Daniel looks down at the Pokemon plasters peeking out from underneath his shorts and shrugs. When I was a kid I was always doing shit like that. Thanks, Max. 
Afterwards, Max misses the noise. He misses the constant questions, the what's in there, how fast do lions go, why can't I, and the way he'd fall asleep passed out in Max's lap, still protesting he wasn't tired, protesting he can eat what he wants, asking how fast he was when he ran around Max's flat twelve times to get rid of some energy. 
Max doesn't think: you should be ashamed. 
He thinks: I wish I wasn't. 
(All actual parts can be found either in this masterpost or on AO3 here.)
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paperch3rry · 21 hours
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OH IT'S OKAY!!! I DIND'T KNEW THAT
So i hope you don't mind, i can request that same concept with Engel or Abby?(idk if i wrote their names right)
Like imagine having a obssesion with the (not so)perfect student: They make part of the student council, haves a honor roll(or is in idk how to say), haves straight A, teacher's favorite and these things
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✮⋆˙ LOVE ME MORE ୨୧
YANDERE ENGEL X "PERFECT STUDENT" READER
A/N:I know i said i wouldnt write for minor yanderes, but im trying to get more flexible and going out of my comfort zone, ill give a shot for this one, although, if this IS problematic please warn me so i can take this post down.
Tw: Yandere topics, obsession, he tries to manipulate and gaslight you, i refuse to make reader have a happy ending.
type: Light angst/fluff, romantic, headcanons
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୨୧ I think it would be a bit understandable how Engel would get hooked up on you so fast, i mean, he is a very smart student himself, so i think he would have a heavy infatuation for you because of your inteligence and maturity.
୨୧ Engel would get close to you by talking about your favorite subjects and being extra informed about it, for example: your favorite subject is marine biology? bam, this boy is going to tell you all the fun facts he learned about whales on the internet so he could impress you.
୨୧ After Engel gets more intimate with you, he would try to keep his cool around you at the beginning, but there would be discreet signals, he would let his possessive side slip a bit sometimes because of how much you get praised for your effort on studies.
୨୧ Ah yes, the praising... the praising is what makes Engel get so possessive and jealous, because in his eyes he should be the only one to provide such compliments and take that sweet and gentle smile and laughs out of you, not others.
୨୧ But overall he would be very chill in the first few 2-3 months, but past the 3rd month is where it gets... very weird, Engel would get way more possessive and would show it more.
୨୧ Engel would start to dismiss both of you whenever someone compliments you, going from calm and collected to "uh huh, they really appreciate it but we need to go now, bye" and pushing you away meanwhile being oddly clinged to your arm.
୨୧ And because of you being really smart, you would notice it really fast and maybe pick up on his crush for you, and you would have to choose between confronting him or just leaving it aside.
୨୧ If you do choose to confront him about it, he would try to dismiss it and paint you crazy and gaslighting you, but it wouldnt really work on you since you are very smart, and that personally bothers him sometimes.
୨୧ Now if you try to toss it aside, it would get worse and worse until he doesnt even let you stop to help or get complimented by someone, just pushing you past them like they werent talking at all, and it probably would get to the point where you have to do the first scenario: confronting him.
୨୧ If you try to leave him in any way, he would show himself more smarter than you think, contorning any plan you have of leaving him, like if you try to ignore him, he would make you fall into situations you are forced to talk to him, like having to do a group work and etc.
୨୧ He may like how you are smart, but he can be more smart than you, dont try him, hes just trying to do whats best for you <3
୨୧ "You never ever getting rid of me ♡"
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One very admirable trait of Yuuri is his determination to go through with an idea no matter how terrified he is if that brings him closer to his goal. We see this trait come into play over and over throughout the show. Often, this drives him to do something he has never done before but knows how to do in theory.
And then there's this:
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Viktor has assigned Yuuri a short programme, but Yuuri has absolutely no clue how to perform it because he doesn't get Eros.
Yuuri has yet to learn what (unconditional) love is, too, but he is able grasp it on a subconscious level since he doesn't struggle to explain his interpretation of On Love: Agape
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based on the level of understanding he is currently at.
However, Eros is a concept so foreign to him that his reaction to the music is just this:
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He can't even put his associations in words (note his clueless tone). These two very different reactions to both arrangements reflect perfectly his own experience and his (current) understanding of "unconditional love" and "sexual love".
Yuuri is the kind of person who despite his anxiety boldly changes the composition of his programmes over and over because he's that desparate to win and this results in some badass moves like:
putting all the jumps of his SP into the second half just because he has stamina
turning the solo jump (3S) in his SP into a quad although he never landed a 4S in competition
going back to jump 3 quads in his FS instead of one
exchange the 4T in his FS against Viktor's signature move
and most prominently: jumps 4 quads so that his FS has the same difficulty as Viktor's
While all of these are daunting for Yuuri, they're doable because he knows how to execute these jumps and he knows he has the stamina to go through with it. The ultimate result boils down to timing, technique, and stamina. But skating to Eros is a major disaster for Yuuri because he delivers his best skating when he skates true to his feelings, and to make things even worse, the stakes are astronomical (they aren't, but that's what he thinks). How should he portray something he can't even feel? How is he supposed to win the Onsen on Ice with that, especially since he believes that losing Viktor as a coach is at stake? No wonder the poor boy outright freaks out at the thought.
Yuuri would have been happy skating to Agape because he has an innate basic understanding of unconditional love. However, he's completely blind to Eros and will need to rely on workarounds to deliver a somewhat decent performance--at least until he and Viktor know each other well enough for Yuuri to figure out how to seduce him with his skating.
And yet in that moment, Yuuri doesn't flinch because he wants Viktor to coach him. He wants to win the Grand Prix Final. He wants Viktor for himself and to eat katsudon with him. All these things embody a dream he has been pursuing for half his life, a dream that involves skating and Viktor, and for the first time in his life, this dream is within reach. He's not going to let a 15-year-old punk take that away from him, he's going to fight for it with all he has. Because even though Yuuri doesn't get Eros, he has eros and this eros is very possessive (and Viktor happens to like that a lot, but Yuuri doesn't know that yet).
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Even when he's terrified does Yuuri keep pursuing his goals because he has this strong determination inside him that pushes him to great lengths to make his dreams reality. Nothing is too difficult not to try. Not even when he's supposed to portray with his skating something he neither feels nor has a concept of. He's terrified, he isn't ready for that, but he does it anyway. To me, that's an exceptional showcase of his bravery.
A little rant below:
I often see fans treat Yuuri like his anxiety and his determination combined turn him into an enigma of contradictions. Like he's two different personas. But these two traits don't contradict each other at all. That's called bravery and this bravery eventually starts bleeding into Yuuri's off-ice decisions like when he sends Viktor home to Makkachin although he needs Viktor by his side, or when he decides to quit his dream so that Viktor can continue pursuing his (that was a bullshit decision, but that's not the point).
Yuuri claims that he needs Viktor to believe in him and that because of Viktor's love he is stronger, and while it's true that Viktor is a positive influence, his presence in Yuuri's life only reinforces Yuuri's own innate strength.
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ghost-of-a-vulture · 2 days
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My dad sends me. Doctor Who character analysis sometimes and here's his latest:
11, more than any other Doctor, is the reason that River says, "Never let the Doctor see you get older." Rose, Martha, Amelia, Clara, Billie, Ryan, and Yaz are all young, all full of a sense of wonder for the things that the Doctor shows them. Donna is an adult. She first decided to become a companion because she was in a rut and wanted to run away from that. So 10 thought she would be like the the others. On their first trip, 9 showed Rose the end of the Earth. When she assumes that he is going to save the Earth, he corrected her. Stating that this is an unchangeable event. From the beginning, he trains her not to question his judgement on what he says cannot be changed. Donna was too old to fall for that and pushes back constantly. Okay, so you can't save everyone in Pompeii, then just save one person. It isn't an all or nothing proposition. He learned from that and tried to do better. Until he got too arrogant and tried to save someone he really should have let die. But then he became 11, the Doctor who forgets. The one who keeps running away more than any other. 200 years running away from Lake Silence. Years in a cloud over Victorian London. Years spent in a monastary.
If he can't save everyone, then fine. He won't save anyone.
Then he became 12, with a face to remind him of Donna's lesson.
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tuxibirdie · 2 days
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Introducing Night Raven College's otherworldly guests!
Yuuichi is Ramshackle's prefect, and Eden is the vice-prefect.
┌── •✧• ──┐
These two are quite the odd duo, considering their temperaments, but they do say opposites attract! Besides, they're in the same boat--otherworlders and all. It's no wonder they'd bond after all the trauma shenanigans NRC has put them through. Although, they do seem to already know each other from back home.
─── •✧• ───
Yuuichi is an extremely energetic extrovert who takes Twisted Wonderland's oddities in stride. They're the curious type, so they're having the time of their life here in NRC. Yuuichi likes taking things apart to see how they work, and has tried to do so with several machines and mechanisms within the school (much to Crowley's chagrin). They've also taken a shine to the magic system here, and study it a lot despite not being able to use it. ("It's just so interesting!!")
Eden is a lot more timid and withdrawn compared to Yuuichi, but he tries to show face and present himself with poise and elegance. He succeeds, for the most part, but his shyness is still very apparent. Eden (quite literally) fell into Twisted Wonderland after Yuuichi, right after the Octavinelle arc. He tries to be a model student, but that's really hard to do when his best friend is Yuuichi. No matter how hard he tries, he's always pulled into the first-year's shenanigans. He's resigned to just making sure they don't get too out of hand.
─── •✧• ───
some more tidbits about them:
Yuuichi's Magicam handle is @/Yuusername
Yuuichi joins Jack on his morning runs sometimes (although they're rarely awake in time)
Yuuichi is something of a parkourist; they like running and climbing on rooftops
Yuuichi prefers to have a concrete plan before going into something, sometimes to their detriment. They've lost matches from thinking for too long before. (Although, NRC has gotten them better at thinking on their feet.)
Yuuichi joined the Film Research Club specifically to be backstage tech.
Yuuichi harasses Idia a lot with the help of Ortho. (It's a win-win! Yuuichi gets to look at cool tech and Ortho gets his brother out of his room!)
Eden's eyes turn pink in the light.
Despite his temperament, Eden is very resistant to peer pressure. (Unless his friends are the ones pressuring him AND he actually wants to do the thing, he just needs a little push.)
Eden loves music. He sings and dances a lot. (He does ballet the most.)
Eden would have joined the VDC boyband crew if not for the fact that he was still acclimating to this world. (Jamil's overblot wasn't exactly a pleasant first OB experience.)
Eden did help Epel and Deuce out when they were learning ballet, though.
Eden likes spending time with Silver. He finds time spent with him calming.
Eden initially checked out the Equestrian club because Riddle invited him, but he stayed because Silver was there.
Back in their home universe, neither Yuuichi or Eden are first years. Yuuichi is a second year and Eden is a third year.
They both help Grim come up with new applications for his fire.
They both do combat training with Grim.
The Ramshackle crew stargazes on Ramshackle's roof often. They invite the other students to join sometimes. The most frequent guests here are Malleus, Kalim, and ADeuce.
At this point, Yuuichi's magicam has become a joint account for the Ramshackle trio.
└── •✧• ──┘
(extra renders below the cut)
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(HELP ME EDEN IS CUT OFF SO MUCH AHHSDFHHSD) (he's so tall omg)
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Ok here’s my two cents that no one asked for on the current (sort of?) debate going on in the Creepypasta fandom on here rn.
For starters, I grew up with Creepypasta. I also grew up mentally ill. I am also autistic. So I know my way around good and bad mental health rep at this point. And to be honest? A lot of the original stories DID suck balls at representation or just horror writing in general.
However, nowadays I see other people on here, often mentally ill or any other social outcast, taking these characters and reshaping them as their own to fit their own feelings and experiences, and I don’t think anyone has the authority to criticize things like that. Cringe culture is supposed to be dead anyways, nevermind the fact it’s inherently ableist at its core.
We also need to take into account kids still exist in the fandom. Pre teens who got tired of shit like scooby doo and wanted something more “mature” or “edgy” to get into without fully going off the deep end into full blown horror movies. At least that’s how it was for me. Not everyone, especially someone who’s younger, is gonna be comfortable with the grit and gore a lot of Creepypasta “purists” are pushing for these days, and that’s okay! When a fandom gets popular it’s always inevitable and unavoidable to have the popular characters get two dimensionalized.
There’s also the whole mascot horror thing that I don’t wanna get into, but I’m 90% sure that also plays a part in the old favorites like Jeff and slenderman being brought up again. They were and still are recognizable characters. Recognizable characters aren’t a bad thing. Making horror more approachable for younger audiences isn’t a bad thing. People having their own interpretations based out of their own experiences isn’t a bad thing.
Some of us grew up and wanted the more edgy and reality based content, and that’s also not a bad thing! But neither side should be dictating or policing how the other enjoys content in this fandom. If you personally don’t like the way something is written, characterized, depicted, or drawn, no one’s forcing you to look at it. No one’s claiming it as canon. No one’s asking for you to accept it as the end all be all.
At the end of the day this fandom was built on OCs and personal depictions of stuff. I can’t name a single character or story in this community that was created by some outside party like a movie or TV studio FIRST (because I know some got so popular they breached the fandom and got their own shows/movies/comics/etc). Everything here was created by someone who wanted an outlet for their creativity, or their pain, or their coping, or whatever else.
Realism and dark headcanons aren’t bad, and neither are any of the headcanons out there who just wanna make a goofy found family of social rejects as a form of escapism.
A 13 year old drawing a fictional layout of a fictional mansion where these fictional characters live isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the horror, I promise, it’s not that deep and it never was.
A 22 year old making a dark comic on the realistic origins of Jeff who is a fictional character in a fictional world isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the more softhearted side of the fandom.
Sure, there can still be a split if people are so adamant about that, but as someone who personally enjoys both the brutal horror side and the “haha Jeff is 15 and gay” sides equally, y’all need to at least learn to be civil to anyone who has a different headcanon than you. And if that seems like too much still, the block button exists for a reason.
TL:DR this fandom is based entirely off OCs and headcanons and people can do whatever the fuck they want because none of it is real and horror comes in many shapes and sizes and intensities and no one should be bashing anyone on their headcanons or views or rewrites or whatever else.
EDIT:
Actually wait I think I have more to say-
Horror, like any genre, has NO AGE LIMIT. And by that I mean, if someone younger wants to delve into scary stuff, they should be allowed to do so without criticism. I personally grew up on “child friendly” horror media like Scooby-Doo, and the older I got the more horror I wanted to experience.
There’s no right or wrong way to “understand” horror, and I frankly think it’s ignorant and stupid to say if you don’t fully “understand” something, then you shouldn’t be involved in it at all. Horror isn’t always about gore and unspeakable violence and the eldritch entity that wants everyone’s skin inside out. That’s why horror has sub genres for fucks sake. Gut wrenching brutality against innocent people isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay!
However, bashing anyone’s tamer headcanons, or calling anything anyone interprets differently than you “stupid”, that’s not okay. God, I feel like an exhausted parent giving this lecture to fellow adults, but this really needs to be said and stressed.
I am an adult. I like when stuff in the fandom takes a dark turn. But for nostalgia’s sake, I also love the fanon so much, because that’s what I was exposed to.
And for fucks sake if it comes down to picking sides, I would rather stick with the part of this fandom that gives zero shits how you see a character as long as you’re having fun.
You can have your serial killer 30 year old Jeff and your canon-accurate-to-that-one-image eyeless Jack, but don’t shit on other people if they don’t want the same thing. Your interpretation isn’t canon, and neither is anyone else’s for that matter.
Realistic, dark, gritty Creepypasta isn’t a new concept, and neither is “adult” Creepypasta. And by the way, Creepypasta was never stated to be for adults. That’s like saying kids and only kids can eat trix cereal. It sounds that stupid on paper.
Let people interpret things the way they wanna interpret. No one is infringing on YOUR character ideas. Creepypasta has no age limit, nor a set way the horror has to be presented. Those who do continue to claim that just sound like pretentious assholes.
Very small side note, I personally think it’s inappropriate and rude to keep using Toby as a “bad example” of mental health rep when the creator has stated multiple times the character is old, not researched, and not even in the fandom anymore. Leave the poor guy alone.
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bolithesenate · 2 days
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The origin of Sifo's hair loopies?
"Jo, what are you doing?," Sifo tried to peer at her busy fingers doing... something with a section of hair at the side of his forehead.
"Hush, hold still." She sent him a cautionary jab over the Force, concentrated solely on her little project. "I just learned how to do this, so don't fuck this up."
What 'this' was got revealed to Sifo-Dyas about half an hour later as he peered curiously into a reflective bit of a spoon (due to grievous lack of mirrors in the Archives). He tilted his head, shaking it a bit, the movement sending Jocasta's hairdresserial masterworks (?) swaying.
"And what are they?," he asked again, looking at his very proud looking friend.
"It's a Knight-braid," Jocasta said proudly, "I learned about them when I visited Jedha. Apparently they fell out of fashion already back in Grandmaster Sunrider's time, but there's still records of how to do them."
Sifo looked back into the spoon. Shook the braids some more. "Knight braids, huh," he murmured, "I've never heard of those. You sure that was a real thing that existed?"
She shrugged, already going back to her half-finished kaf she'd gotten before their little pause mid mission-prep. It must have been ice cold by now, Sifo would never understand how she could still drink it like that.
"Does it matter if they did?," she quipped back, before downing the contents of the cup. "They're cute and they suit you. Way better than that stupid beard Yan has been growing out."
Oh, so this was about the beard.
Sifo should have known.
"Maybe if it grows long enough you can braid that too?," he couldn't help but tease her, "You know, get some old traditions up and going again? Maybe start a new trend while you're at it?"
All he got was a look that could have shock-frozen Mustafar twice over. "Do not," she mocked throwing the kf cup at him, "even joke about that, Sifo. I'd rather personally shave down Master Tyvokka before touching that... thing."
Sifo laughed, fingers already reaching to play with the new braids. They were fun. "Oh, don't act like that. You can't fault him for trying to hide his babyface. There's been talks of him getting offered a Council Seat, you know. He's been stressing out over it all month."
"And his solutions to that was to grow a beard over it?" Jocasta sounded dubious. "I don't know. Sounds like a case for the mind healer to me."
"Oh shut it," he flicked her though the Force, "I think it looks stately."
"Of course you do." Her defiant murmur was barely audible, buried behind the datapad she'd pulled out. "Suckup."
"Not everyone is on a crusade against all facial hair like you are," Sifo singsonged happily, ignoring her dramatic mood (it was mostly an act anyways). "A bit of self expression won't do our dear Yan any harm."
Jocasta's face darkened further. "Not him maybe, but just see how you'll feel about it when it gives you beard-burn. That shit sucks."
Sifo snickered. "Advice taken."
"I'm serious, Sy."
"And I'll keep it in mind, Jo." He scooted over to her, flinging one of the newly installed braids against her cheek. "Plus, you've given me the weapons to defend myself now, haven't you?"
With an annoyed groan, Jocasta simply reached out, quick as lightning, and grabbed Sy's entire face, pushing him away. "Stop that you little kriffer," she complained, "I'm already regretting this, just so you know."
Sifo let himself be pushed away. Then he waited a few moments, before immediately diving back in, tackling his smaller friend in a hug. "Nahh," he said happily, rubing his face against her side, "You love me. You love the braids. Show me how to do them myself?"
"You're gonna keep them?," she asked, peering down on him. It was evident that she was flattered by the idea. Flattered that he'd liked them.
Sifo grinned up at her. "Of course. As I said, I gotta be able to beat back Yan's beard-attacks, don't I."
"Hmm." She looked off, clearly fighting down a smile. "I'll see what I can do."
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film-in-my-soul · 2 days
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ehehe kicking down the door of your inbox to ask for icemav and t for toys
-> Cockring, Hand Job, Rimming, Blow Job (mentioned) <-
T is for Toys
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Ice knows it's better not to give in to Maverick when he's being intentionally annoying or trying to actively goad Ice into playing whatever game he's started without warning. But there's little use in trying since Maverick barely waits for Ice to close the door to his house, twisting his hands into the collar of Ice's ratty workout shirt and dragging him into a kiss. Maverick uses his body, compact and hot, to bully Ice back, undeterred as it takes Ice a second to find his footing and get with the program.
It's not until Ice's knees hit his mattress and he has a lapful of five foot six, persistent aviator pulling back to smirk down at him, dangerous even on the ground, that he realizes he's been played. The Iceman is stone cold, firm, and unyielding, but when there's a pert ass right above his rapidly filling cock, a hand in his hair, and a tongue in his mouth, well, the Iceman can't help but melt.
Just his luck that Maverick had learned that secret all too easily and isn't above using that knowledge when there's something he wants and is intent on Ice to give him.
"Did you know the record for male orgasms in one day is twelve?"
Ice knows not to engage; he knows that there's trouble dancing in Maverick's eyes and purpose on his tongue, but the smaller man pulls himself even tighter against Ice and drags his mouth over the shell of Ice's ear, breath hot and lips soft from their kissing.
"How close do you think I can get?"
The shiver that runs down Ice's back is both involuntary and obvious, given the way Ice feels Maverick's mouth curl into a knowing smirk as he shifts down to nip at Ice's jaw. Ice's grip on Maverick's hips tighten, and though Maverick won't push him to try, won't do more than tease and whine about Ice being boring if he doesn't indulge what Maverick is clearly wheedling for, it's too late. Already, Ice's thoughts drift to the bedside table where he keeps his slick and condoms, where beneath a box of tissues and his emergency flashlight is something he's used once or twice and had bought on a whim.
It's either fate or Maverick's habit of snooping while Ice is in the shower that's brought this entire situation to fruition. And where Ice might have at least tried to put up a good show of making Maverick work for it, Maverick's got his mouth latched to Ice's collar and is mindlessly grinding his ass over Ice's dick. There's nothing to do but tip them both to the mattress and get on with it.
Maverick beams at Ice, sprawled across the bed where Ice has rolled them.
Ice runs his hands under Maverick's shirt and gets a knee between Maverick's thighs. "Let's find out.
They don't have a hop in the morning anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maverick doesn't make a comment when Ice pulls out the cockring after he's sucked Maverick off and fingered him to orgasm (two down, and many more to go if Maverick gets his way), which only lends credence to Ice's assumption that the ambush was planned. Too good of timing and too ready to throw down the challenge.
Regardless, Mavericks' excitement is evident by the fact he doesn't quip about Ice not being able to pace himself or keep from shooting off. He doesn't even tease Ice for owning it (Ice had been out of town, a little buzzed, and the worker at the sex shop hadn't blinked twice at him when he'd put it on the counter.) All Maverick does is make a begrudging sound when Ice hauls him off by his hair so he can get the silicone locked snuggly around the base of his dick and around his balls.
Uncomfortable for only a moment while he adjusts, Ice distracts himself by taking himself in hand and stroking from base to tip slowly, amused by the hungry look in Maverick's eyes. He tugs once on Maverick's hair when the brunet moves to duck back down to mouth at him some more.
"Blowing me doesn't exactly add to the tally, Mav." Ice wishes it did since the next best place that isn't a cockpit is Maverick's mouth, but that's not what Maverick has asked for, and despite the ridiculousness of the objective, Ice is nothing if not goal-orientated. If Maverick wants to get as close to twelve orgasms as possible before he physically can't anymore, Ice will get him there.
Maverick seemingly comes to the same conclusion. He throws himself down on the sheets and hooks his hands behind his knees, lifting them up toward his ears to be exposed without shame. Ice stifles a groan, Maverick's hole shiny from lube and twitching with want. He has to take his hand off his dick because even with the ring keeping his orgasm tempered, Ice won't risk dragging himself to the point where keeping it on is no longer an option.
Crawling forward, between Maverick's spread thighs, Ice replaces Maverick's hands with his own biceps, crooking Maverick's legs over his elbows to haul his bottom half off of the mattress until he can sling Maverick's thigh onto either side of his neck, loving how Maverick's body stretching taut, the position forcing him to brace on his shoulders, head thrown back to balance, hands scrambling to compensate.
Ice doesn't enjoy the taste of lube, but the promise of musky heat to bury his tongue in supersedes that minimal distaste, and Maverick's cry as he drives into his already stretched entrance washes away the lingering synthetic flavor.
By the time Maverick is clenching around Ice's tongue and the finger he'd added once the begging started, Ice's jaw and shoulders are sore. He has to exert more strength than normal, what with Maverick thrashing and trying to rock himself against his mouth, so when he finally lowers Maverick's body back to something more comfortably horizontal, Ice has to stretch out his arms. It allows Ice a moment to check Maverick over, pleased with his glassy eyes and fuck-drunk expression slackening his lips as he pants and shakes, a sticky hand still around his spent cock.
"That's three," Ice says, forcing nonchalance into his tone. He replaces Maverick's weak grip with his own, heedless of the overstimulated whine that flies from Maverick's throat. Ice wonders at what point Maverick will start regretting asking him to play this particular kind of game. When he'll understand the power of stamina he's given Ice by not protesting the cockring when he had the chance.
Ice knows that moment is unlikely to come, not with Maverick's slipping coherence and a drive to push his limits weaved beneath his skin so firmly it'll never be shaken loose.
"Let me know when you want to tap out."
Maverick bares his teeth in a display of feral arousal and determination. He's a wild thing in messy sheets, flushed and covered in spend and sweat, the antithesis to Ice's purposeful composure. He ruts up pointedly into Ice's tight fist, wincing without concern and letting out a high laugh that's broken by squeaking yips of pleasure-pain.
"You're gonna have to fuck me unconscious first," Maverick pants, all bravado and blown eyes. "If you can." A not-so-subtle jab at the toy around Ice's cock.
Ice increases the speed of his strokes and bends down to spear his tongue between Maverick's lips, stealing the next slew of sounds and pleas as he slips two fingers back into Maverick's hole to press unrelenting against Maverick's prostate, not stopping even as Maverick locks up and shivers through a fourth orgasm, only half-hard in Ice's hand, choking on a sob.
It's only when Maverick stops twitching and trying to buck Ice off without thought that Ice pulls his hands back and straightens, throwing Maverick's still trembling legs around his waist, tapping his cock against the red-hot ring of muscle he'll be spending the next hour or so ruining. Ice waits for Maverick's tear-rimmed eyes to land on him, slightly unfocused but no less blazing.
"Don't waste your breath worrying about whether I'll last, Mav," Ice lines up and teases his tip into Maverick's body. "This isn't the only toy I've got in the drawer."
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second batch of outfit requests!
pattern collage / showfit / clownfit for @koifsssh & candy cardigan Eddie for @jazzzzzzhands <3
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iwasbored777 · 10 months
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"But why did Gwen push Miles away like that if she loves him so much?" You ask as if in the same movie we didn't watch her father, the person she loves more than anything and the person that she thought that loves her more than anything, disown her right away because he learned one thing about her that he didn't like.
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gunstellations · 10 months
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rk800 💙 rk900
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