#THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT EMMY

[klunkcat]

dialogue prompts for ~injury~

11. “I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts.”

with maybe portal duo my beloved :3 💙🧡

(I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I read this and immediately thought about how cold it was outside the other day, so this got away from me a little bit <3 if you live in upstate new york and know geographically that this is impossible, know that I looked up exactly enough for this to not be nonsense and that's it so sorry in advance lmao)

tw: mild injury, some mentions of potential suffocation (does not happen), avalanches

Maybe it’s a cliche to say that ‘everything happened so fast’, but in Mikey’s defense, it was freezing and he was thinking about the hot cocoa he was going to make when he got home (with mousse, and sprinkles. Maybe the cherries April had sneakily bought him the other day), and frankly it was freezing. 

The opportunity to hang out at April’s cabin with his brothers upstate had been a dream come true. Donnie kept the train carts from getting too cold regularly, but there was a power outage issue that made things draftier than even their mounds of blankets seemed to be able to drive out these days. When it had been suggested they spend a few weeks away until the grid could come back on, it sounded like a vacation. 

Complete access to an open acre of land in the mountains complete with a two story log cabin home, with full wifi? And a full kitchen? Paradise. Easy trade. Every single one of them had yes and’ed that bit. 

Of course, it didn’t mean they’d left the winter behind. 

One second, they’d been playing ‘Free Willy-Raph’, which is to say competing over who could launch themselves high enough off a snow hill to make it fully over Raph’s head – kind of like a pole vault but with a sled and a lot more crashing limbs– and the next. Well. Mikey isn’t entirely sure what happened next.  

He’d been up the slope, maybe a bit farther than his brothers had gone just to prove a point, spiced up on the barest bit of playful spite after Leo had beat him the last four times in a row, and sure he could get it this time. His brother’s and April looked like stickmen down the ways as he’d started settling down his bright orange sled. 

Suddenly, a shout, or a rush of noise. He wasn’t sure what came first. A roll of white, and he was flying. Swimming, maybe. Then: darkness.

Mikey’s not sure if he blacks out for a second, or when he blinks himself awake it’s just fallen instantly silent, but it’s muffled all the way up to his eyes. Oh, he thinks distantly. There is stuff on my eyes. It’s really unfortunate that his arms are too tired to move anywhere at all near his face. He wiggles his hands anyways. 

It’s cold, too— his thoughts are hard to order. It’s an all over cold like Donnie had stuffed snow down his jacket again. He hopes Raph caught him doing it this time. 

“Not funny, Dee,” he mumbles, and hey. Actually, it’s hard to move his lips, too. He knows something about that— Leo had drilled it into all of their heads after he’d read through one of the big medical textbooks April ‘borrowed’ for him. 

We don’t regulate temperature like people do, Leo’d said. Which means, if you lie around in the tunnels all day or take a funky trip up to skate around without a scarf. Bam, turtle pop. 

Does that mean we can’t go up top at all? Mikey’d whined. It would be horrendous if they couldn’t visit April for a good few months; they had a tradition on Christmas eve of watching the absolute worst Christmas rom coms they could for the entire afternoon before her parents got home from work. They’d never gotten that cold before. 

Leo’d poked Mikey and leaned forwards with a sideways smile. Nah, just gotta stay warm is all, Angie. If you feel sleepy, let me know okay?

“I think I’m sleepy,” Mikey tells Leo. Except Leo isn’t actually here, he doesn’t think. It’s cold, but it’s packed all in at him like there’s something warm under the center of it. He can’t really feel his toes, he thinks one of his boots might have fallen off. April had tried really hard to find some in his size, she’d probably be sad. 

Fuck, Leo thinks. Imagines a Raph who isn’t just as mortified as he is scolding him for it, and swears again just for emphasis.

In theory, he’d known that avalanches were a thing. He’d even made a joke about it as they were driving up and noticed exactly how nestled into the mountainside April’s parents place was. He’d thought it was more for skiers, or freak accidents in ice storms, or dramatic beginnings to a meet cute made by someone who had absolutely no understanding of gravitas. 

Not for little brothers. Definitely not for his. 

The notice that the snow was giving way had been almost nothing— a faint drum sound maybe. He’d hesitated, for a second while goofing around with Don and gotten a handful of snow to the face as a result. Mikey trudging stubbornly up the marker that Leo’d set to try to get even more airtime, bright orange sled bobbing with him as he went. 

He’d looked so tiny. For all his little brother was an absolute powerhouse of a maniac when he needed to be, sometimes it hit him funny just to remember that he was little. 

Then, a cracking noise. Something rumbling— a white hill appearing behind Mikey, farther up the slope, April’s gasp of sudden realization and— 

He couldn’t find Mikey. 

“Maybe he followed it out,” April said, panic making her voice sound thready to Leo’s ears. “If he— in an avalanche, you’re supposed to swim with it.” 

Leo shook his head. Numb down to his finger tips. “He wasn’t even looking at it.” Mikey hadn’t even seen it. His baby brother was a fluid instinctive wave of thunder in motion on his worst days, but it hit him from behind. They’d never been anywhere that had so much snow. 

Donnie made a faint noise to his left, the kind of exasperated hiss that meant he was overwhelmed and shutting down. He typed even more frantically on his wrist guard. 

“He’s here,” Raph said, swallowing roughly. “We just— we just have to find him. Right?” 

Leo nodded back. “Maybe we should, um. If we split up, we can cover more area. Don, can you lend Raph your staff?”

It was a testament to how far deep into shut down mode his twin was that he didn’t even argue, passing it over without a word. Leo tried to center himself. 

“It’s. If you poke first, gently. You can find more under the snow, so it doesn’t get more compact.” Raph’s weight would be a problem in terms of accidentally standing on Mikey, if he was under him. He tried to will his brain away from the mental image and failed. “You go left, I’ll start where we saw him and work down.” 

Raph nodded, mouth set in a wobbly line. Find him Leo, he imagined Raph saying. Please.

It was a tiny one, April’d said, which was the craziest part. They’d had enough time to back up out of the way, and it hadn’t reached the house. Just a top layer shifting with the snowfall from last week, probably. Just bad timing. 

There could be another one, if they weren’t careful. Leo was the fastest, he could portal himself down the mountain if he triggered anything, but it would mean Mike potentially buried under another layer. Shit. And it was cold. He’d almost told Mikey to come back down at first, because he was the most susceptible as the smallest to bone chill and they’d been out for a good hour already, but Mike had looked so determined—

He set out up the mountain. 

“Mike? Angelo?” He called, gingerly plodding through the snow, one careful foot at a time. “Buddy, you’re scaring us a little here. Can you make a noise? Reach a hand up? Come on, I’ll even let you tell everyone you won the jump if you want. Once in a lifetime offer!” 

The wind whistled emptily back at him. He shivered. The chill was already starting to bite further through his layers, or maybe it was the shock of seeing his baby brother’s orange hat swallowed up like it was being erased in front of him. This was supposed to be fun, was the thing. A big relaxation party time after barely surviving the end of the world, again. 

Dad had stayed home to keep the lights on, and April was off school for winter break, and it was supposed to be the best time ever so that dad didn’t get a heart attack and ground them all from ever doing anything until they were forty. Fuck, he thought again, which really put a finer point on things. 

What if Mike was hurt? What if he’d hit his head, or crashed into a tree– what if he couldn’t breathe, and Leo was walking around slowly above him all the while, oblivious. What if this nice holiday trip was the last time he ever saw his baby brother, and the last thing he’d ever said was a teasing insult about being last. 

“Mikey!” He called out more urgently. It echoed back, just on the side of too loud, and he froze. Waited. One one thousand, two one thousand. 

No drum sound, no cracking. Just the potential of his brother suffocating three feet to his left. 

Dad was going to lose it. 

He scanned around, white snow and wind blurring at his vision in every direction. Panic had already settled its grip in his chest so hard it hurt, his hands thrumming with adrenaline. It seemed all dead here, frozen still life portraits of something lost years ago. Grey and white and— there! 

A peek of bright orange, barely poking out of the snow. His sled. 

Leo collapsed beside it, digging immediately, heart in his throat. “Mike! Mikey, can you hear me, buddy? Are you— can you say something?” 

He wiggled the sled free after a long frantic moment, using it like a shovel. What if Mikey wasn’t even under it, what if the sled had flung itself the opposite direction, and Leo was wasting time— 

A gloved hand reached up through the layer of snow, weakly. “Oh thank fuck,” Leo breathed, and dropped the sled to grab at it with both hands. “You okay? Can you— is anything broken?” 

Mikey’s face appeared, paler than usual. Bunches of snow tucked against his eyelids. The most wonderful sight he’d ever seen. 

“C’n get it off,” he said, barely a mumble. Leo leaned in. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” 

Mikey’s face scrunched, a barely there motion but something that shot right through Leo’s heart with every big brother instinct he owned. “Snow. M’ eyes.”

“Oh,” Leo chucked, nervous and rabbit quick with fear. “I got you, shush. Hold on, Sunshine.” He pulled his glove off with a thumb, wiping at Mikey’s eyes as careful as anything. His hands shook violently.

Mikey cautiously blinked up at him, eyes dazed. “Leo, I’m sleepy.” 

Leo shoved his glove back on, pushed the remainder of the snow off Mikey’s legs. Unburying him as much as he could. “I bet, big day for you, huh? How’s about we get you down the hill–”

“No,” Mikey’s voice got a little clearer. “I’m. You said to say. If we’re cold and sleepy. I remembered.” 

Oh. Oh, shit. Leo made himself smile. “That’s right, I did say that. Great job for telling me. We’ll get you warmed up right away, okay? But I— I need you to stay awake before that, okay? Can you do that?” 

Mikey’s eyes fluttered. “Try.” 

The whiplash of fear and relief was making Leo dizzy. He nodded frantically, made himself stop. Mikey’d landed the right way up under the snow, had almost certainly hit his head from how his pupils looked, but he didn’t know if anything was broken. He shouldn’t move Mikey until he was sure, but— there was blue, just there ever so slightly. The edges of Mikey’s lips. Shit. Shit. 

“I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts.” 

“‘Mm.” Mikey’s head flopped back into the snow. His hat was missing, Leo realized. He didn’t know where Mikey’s hat went. 

“Okay, that’s– that’s good. Hey, you were saying something about hot chocolate earlier. Can you remind me? You always make it the best.” He slid his arms under Mikey’s shell, one under his legs. Mikey rolled his head towards him as he pulled him towards himself like a limp doll– Leo made himself stop noticing. 

“Mousse,” Mikey said, simply. “And sprinkles.” He added, more crossly. 

Leo chuckled, then grimaced as he carefully moved to stand. “Yum, that sounds great. Hey, nothing hurts, right? You’re not being brave on me, are you?” 

Mikey let out a vague mumble, then frowned. “Raph was. He was gunna eat all my cherries, for the hot chocolate.” 

Fifteen years of growing up with Michelangelo was the only thing that prevented Leo from freezing in sheer confusion. The best way through was with him. “Oh? I’ll tell him not to.” 

“Good,” Mikey said, with a tiny head not he seemed to regret. “You can have one, though.” 

The trek back down was going to be slow, Leo thought. He smiled vaguely at Mike, listening carefully for any angry mountain noises around them. April and Donnie seemed to have noticed him already, at least. April was sprinting back to the house. 

“I’m special? Didn’t know you liked me carrying you so much.”  

Mikey huffed, sounding more like a sniff. “Didn’t put snow d’wn my. Down my jacket.” 

“Hm. Think that might have been the mountain, Miguelito. Are you feeling sleepy still?” 

“Head hurts,” Mikey said after a moment. “Oh. We were sledding.” 

Okay, good. Leo breathed out. “Yep. You got surprise attacked a little bit there, so we’re done for the day I think.” 

“Aw,” Mikey whined. Looked up at Leo with big eyes. “I lost my boot.”

His little brother, Leo thought with a wave of fondness so loud it felt like a heart attack. He nodded seriously. “April will forgive you.” 

He hefted Mikey up higher, making sure his arms are tucked in and his face pressed to the warmest parts of Leo's jacket. Hot baths and big blankets aside, he was going to make Mikey the biggest, sweetest hot chocolate the world had ever seen.

"Big shitty rom-com marathon in your future, Angie."

Mike sighs, just there against his pocket, looking smaller than anything without his mask. "Can we play the mustache game?"

He'll tape as many fake mustaches all over the screen as the kid wants, he thinks. "Mhmm. I won't even cheat."

"Yay," Mikey said tiredly. "Thanks f'r not letting me be a turtle pop."

"You got it, sunshine." His heart right between his hands. "Anytime."

[hero-of-the-wolf]

For the prompt thing: 40. pet & Twilight

Twilight crouched down, holding out a hand for the little cat to sniff and smiling when she rubbed against his fingers.

“You’re a good girl, ain’t ya?” He murmured to himself.

She purred loudly in response, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand to scratch behind her ears. His heart melted at the sight.

[riadoodles]

YAAY Thank you for answering the question! Here is another one 👉👈

Imagine that your Rook(s) is not the main character, but a companion:

What would their companion quests look like?

Would there be any special dialogues with a high level of approval? At a critically low level?

Was it possible to romance them? What would their romantic lines be?

What would be the scene of the player's meeting with them?

And thank you again!

omg i love thisss! these are such fun oc prompts~! Thank you!

i was gonna reply sooner but I wanted to doodle the answers… i only ended up with one bc I didn’t have time 😭😭

what would Dawn’s companion quest look like? Okay so I imagined the first part is hanging out with Dawn around the Grand Necropolis.. maybe he’s spacing out staring at the night sky and the main character gets concerned about him because he’ll have quiet moments to himself when he’s usually snarky and loud. You realize that he acts the way he is to hide himself in a way; it’s like a defense mechanism. When you get closer to him he opens up more and talks about how he’s having some sort of identity crisis because he has no idea where he came from and how he ended up at the Grand Necropolis when he was little. He also has huge abandonment issues. I think the ‘big boss’ in his quest would be whoever was chasing him and his mother (he doesn’t know) when he was little.

Would there be any special dialogues with a high level of approval? At a critically low level? High approval: He is more open to being vulnerable and talks about his abandonment issues with you. He is very snarky/sarcastic and flirty in nature, but he shows a softer side when he feels closer to you (still likes to tease from time to time) Low approval: he answers back in short sentences and one word answers. More sarcastic than usual. Will bully you.

Was it possible to romance them? What would their romantic lines be? Oh heeeelll yessss he loves to flirt. He enjoys saying things to get a reaction out of people especially if it gets them flustered. It’s kind of like a game to him, but he gets more serious and soft when someone gives him affection. (I’m not good at coming up with lines, but that’s his vibe)

What would be the scene of the player's meeting with them?

So the player is Emmrich.. right? Cuz then it’s at the Grand Necropolis. Same cutscene, but Emmy goes all in his introduction lol

[lilacprincess7]

hi!! good luck with your exams <3 i had to send this request in case i forgot it haha

can you write something about 7-9-14 from the fluff/ angst with pedri

maybe the reader is a model/actress and she doesn't tell him so as not to worry him but he hears it from the media/his friends to see her with a bandage on her leg and something

sorry for mistakes english is not my first language!!

"Runway stress"

summary: in which you hurt your ankle after trying out some high heels of a new designer and everything goes wrong

prompts: 'I'm coming to get you stay there' x 'We need to change your bandages soon' x 'Hey... HEY don't move too much you haven't healed yet'

a/n: this is so cute as an idea, thank u for the req and the wishes!, not throwing any shade to gucci or anything I just liked the pic

warnings: hurt ankle, bandages, idk what else, mentions of Y/n (Y/n/n means your nickname)

It was supposed to be just another day at work. Key word: supposed. Your manager, Jemma, she had called you in to talk about a new brand deal, see if you were intrested and try out a fw pieces they sent as a PR gift.

You knew nothing of the brand, its designers or any other models associate with them but you didn't pay much attention, although it was quite odd. Those were the thoughts running through your mind as you entered the building your team worked in.

"Jemma, I'm here girl, where are you?" you asked,

"Backstage Y/n/n" you heard her shout

Half an hour later you were ready to try out what must be considered as an entire collection of the brand. You took your time going through everything they sent over. Dresses, skirts, shirts, jackets, bags. It had been at least five hours during which Jemma, Emmy -your main photographer-, Pauline -your make-up artist-, Maria -your content producer- and Sofia -your hair stylist- were sitting on the couches of the try-out room and watched you do a mini runway.

They always helped you make such decisions. Different factors always shown on those conversations. Jemma was more concerned about your part of the deal. Pauline and Sofia made sure you chose deals that associated your name with the aesthetics, the high-end tailors. Emmy and Maria took into account how you were porteyed. All of them always cared about you as a person and made sure you were comfortable.

Right now though, comfort had left the chat. The moment you started walking with those heels on disaster struck. You were always the opposite of clumsy, so to say the girls were shocked to see you twist you ankle and fall so messily on the floor was a worrying sight.

"Ahh fuck... it hurts.. it hurts so bad... hmm" these were some stiletos straight from hell for sure.

Jemma, ever the collected one, fetched some ice.

"I think it's swelling a bit. Maybe we should take you to a hospital..." Maria expressed

"I think a quick scan is the best. It could get worse if it's a serious injury and we didn't take care of it properly... Besides, Pedri is going to be pissed if he learns we didn't take care of his woman..." Pauline continued

Sofia helped you sit on the couch while Jemma helped you out of those awful shoes. The girls helped you change quickly and took you to the hospital for an x-ray.

To say your friends were overeacting was minimal. The moment your ankle twisted, yes you admitted it hurt. Right now though, a good two hours after, you couldn't feel something problematic. Your foot moved normaly and without any pain.

None the less, the doctors confirmed through the x-ray that it wasn't broken or fractured. It was just a bit damaged. They said that you should just be cautious for the next couple of weeks and that if you felt it getting worse to come back for a check-up.

You left the with a bandaged ankle but wearing both shoes. You decided that your boyfriend was best kept in the dark about this. He would babysit you constantly and you couldn't deal with that right now.

Unfortunately, luck had other plans for you. In the entrance of the hospital stood none other than Ferran. Great. Just great. How were you gonna cover this one up?

"Hey Y/n, everything okay?"

"Yeah, just a check up you know? You?"

"My cousin gave birth last night and I'm waiting to see her and my niece!"

"Ohh, I'm happy for you! Give her my wishes!" you replied as you walked slowly to your car that Jemma had driven here.

"Will do!" he responded and headed inside.

You thought you had managed to hide the injury pretty good but you ended up being wrong. The first thing Ferran did upon re-entering the hospital was to call Pedri.

"Pedrito!"

"Tirburon!"

"Mi amigo, what happened to your girl?"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw her in the hospital. She was limping and I could see a bandage covering her ankle. Albeit, she was hiding it quite a bit, I still saw."

"I don't know what happened but I'm coming to pick her up. Thanks shark"

"Any time.. Got to go! See ya tomorrow!"

"Yep, thanks again"

"Don't mention it!"

And at that they hang up.

"What do you think you are about to do? Tell me baby..." he said as you picked up the phone

"Wha-at do you mean?" you played dump, both of you knew.

"Baby, I know your injured. Please just please let me get you home. You shouldn't drive."

"I admit I shouldn't drive. You are right."

"I'm coming to get you, stay there amor"

"Okay, okay. I'm waiting for you..."

You were completely right about your boyfriend's behaviour. The moment he saw your ankle bandaged up, he decided that until you were back to full health he would help you with everything.

Don't get me wrong. He was really sweet and what he did actually helped. He got you to lean on him so you wouldn't have to put to much weight or limp your way around the house. You admitted thougth that he was kind of restless due to the matter.

That same night, both of you had trouble falling asleep. Him because he was anxious about your foot and you because he wouldn't stop moving.

"Pepi...why are you movin' so much..?" you asked groggily, barely awake

"I can't sleep amor.." he admitted as he turned around to look at you, the light of the moon hitting you in the face, making you look every bit of the goddess you were.

"Why? Are you feeling okay?" you questioned him, wanting to make sure of his well-being

"I'm not okay... because you are not okay and I don't know how to help... and I feel useless"

You leaned in towards him but winced a bit from the movement.

"Hey... HEY don't move too much you haven't healed yet, amor be careful"

"Shh Pepi, it's fine. It's something minor not something you should lose sleep over...come on lean on me and relax. I'm fine and I'll wake you up if I need anything I promise..."

With a sign, he leaned closer to you and let his head fall in the crook of your neck. He still waited until you fell asleep to close his eyes but you could feel that he had eased up and that he was calm enough to fall asleep himself.

When next morning rolled around, he was much the same anxious ball of tame protectiveness.

"Hermosa.. we need to change your bandages soon"

"I know guapo, I know. Let me shower first and then we will change them"

"There is no way you are showering with that ankle. At least not on your own..."

"I like that preposition Pepi" you teased, knowing there was no way he would agree while you were hurt, even though it was in no way connected.

"Don't let such ideas on your head amor, we will actually just shower..."

"Okay okay, lead the way.." you said as a smile blossomed on your lips.

He was so attentive to your every need. So caring, so calm about it all. So level-headed. He knew exactly how to help, what to do and what not to do. You fell even more in love with him because of it.

[beefrobeefcal]

Colosseum Capers feat. Din Djarin & Dieter Bravo

Summary: Din is a virgin and Dieter teaches him some things.

Pairing: Dieter x Din x f!reader | Rating: 18+ MDNI | Word Count: 6,787

Content Warnings: couch sex, din is a virgin, dieter teaches din how to make thick in the warm, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, p in the v, cum touching, jerking off, bruised willy, busted wrist, gary has had it up to here, everyone is consenting gleefully, jerking off to a live show, cum play (ish), talk of cum, weed is smoked, mention of religious trauma, premature ejaculation YEEHAW!

Author's Notes: for my very own november prompt challenge THE GLANDOLORIAN of course being dropped right at the buzzer.

Thanks to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalnymph & @bitchesuntitled for their eyes, minds, thots and love - i would have let my utter defiance take over and not done this without your encouragement. Thanks also to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

You stood behind the ticket desk, supposed to be counting the float and getting ready for the evening’s show but instead you were bored out of your mind and sweating in your polyester toga. Once again, the owners decided to not fix the AC to cut costs, and the humidity plus the sweltering heat was giving you a horrible case of swamp ass and a foul mood.

Colosseum Capers (aka ‘Capers’) was a Medieval Times knock off, started in 1979 by two brothers who had a shitty idea fueled by a night out at a shitty bar. They had sold it to a corporate group in the late 80’s who had developed a mall on the plot next door and had changed hands many times over since. It was some real estate investment trust that was letting it run into the ground now. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills and got you up close and personal with B and C list celebrities, and free concessions, keeping your monthly grocery bill lower than average. That, and if you batted your lashes at Gary, the manager, you could get your gas paid for every now and then. 

There were a lot of perks in this dump, but the one thing that made Capers almost not worth it was the star - Dieter Bravo. He was a washed up 1990’s soap actor who hadn’t actually done anything of note since he showed up to the Emmys drunk, high, or both in 2003, then allegedly passed out backstage and pissed his pants. You have to say allegedly because at the time, Dieter had enough money to have a team that gave enough of a shit to scrub the media, stopping the release of the details. But now? Now he was ‘Marcus Acacius, Gladiator of Rome’ five to seven nights a week in a shitty dinner show theatre two blocks from the Las Vegas strip. No one gave a shit about him except those who recognized him from his days on The Young & The Restless. 

You couldn’t stand him. Despite how far he had fallen, it still wasn’t enough to knock his ego down; he was arrogant and obnoxious, slept with the majority of the female staff - and a few of the male staff, too. He’d tried to bed you once, his gravelly, sleep deprived, booze fueled voice cawing at you to come to his dressing room one evening. You’d rolled your eyes in disgust, never once being fooled by him, declining him just as rudely as he had offered. In response, from then on in, Dieter pretended you either didn’t exist or antagonized you, giving you orders or interfering if someone was speaking to you to let them know you were a ‘celibate bitch’, landing you with the nickname ‘CeeBee’.

The only good thing about Dieter was the one thing his drunk, out-of-shape ass needed to play gladiator - Din. When Dieter couldn’t take to the stage, Din stepped in. He took no credit and played Dieter playing a Gladiator well enough for only die-hard Dieter fans to notice and those seemed to be dwindling in numbers season by season. 

If Din had asked you to his dressing room (if he had one), nothing could have stopped you from going to it. He was everything Dieter was not. He was quiet, polite, sweet, sober, and while he looked like a younger, less bloated version of Dieter, you found him far more handsome and attractive. The only problem was that Din was never anything but polite in the most standoffish way to you and anyone else who he interacted with - no joke pulled a smile on his face, you had never heard him laugh once, and he was insanely private. Beyond his name and his age - which you had to suss out from the badly stored employment records - you knew nothing about him. 

Din Djarin, 36 years old, male was what you knew to be a fact. Great body, patience of a saint, likes plain soda water, potentially hung, gorgeous brown eyes, soft-looking brown hair were based solely on your observational skills. Everything else about him was a mystery. 

“Ceebee!”

You groaned outwardly and rolled your eyes when you heard Gary’s voice. It was too hot and you felt too gross to want to deal with his bullshit. 

“I know you heard me ‘cause I heard that attitude!”

Sucking in a deep breath, you stood up from leaning on the counter and yelled back. “What, Gary?!”

“Bravo. Get him. Need to know if we gotta call Din for tonight.”

“No, Gary, you do it! It’s too hot for me to deal with his bullshi-”

“CeeBee, goddamnit! Now!”

You could hear the final threads of Gary’s triple bypass fraying in his voice. You knew he hated Dieter more than you did and if he had the power, Dieter would have been fired years ago and Din would be the gladiator full time. And you knew that if you were hot, the overweight, balding 67-year-old Gary was feeling it worse, and despite what an aggravating human he could be, he was also the closest thing to a friend you had in this city. Today was not the day to give him a hard time. 

Huffing, you stepped out from behind the ticket counter and stomped down the ramp to the ‘Staff Only’ door, and pushed through. As soon as you opened the door, the acrid smell of weed from a bong hit you and you grimaced. You didn’t want to go any closer to his dressing room, so you called out, not attempting to hide your irritation.

“Bravo! Gary wants to know if you’re-”

“Ceebee! Baby! Come on in - don’t be shy!”, Dieter interrupted in a lazy, rough but loud voice.

“No. Gary wants to know if you’re g-”

“Fuck Gary and get in here. Not gonna pull anything!”, he barked, then sang out, “‘less you wan’ me to...”

You scowled as you heard the smug grin in his voice. Against your better judgement, you let out a harsh huff and stepped into his open doorway. There he was, the bastard, laid back on a couch not even fit for a second hand store, in his green robe and boxers. His face was pulled into a large, stupid smile and his eyes were red and heavy lidded. 

“Hey pretty lady…”

The way he looked at you and spoke made you want to shave your head with a cheese grater, but you’d promised Gary last week that you’d try and be more cordial with Dieter, so you slapped a tight smile on your face and crossed your arms. 

“Bravo. Ga-”

“CeeBee… honey, you look tense.” He patted the couch next to him. “Come on, baby, take a hoot. Chill out.”

“Gary wants to know if he’s gotta call Din in.”

The lazy smile on his face dropped slightly, and the small bit of his eyes you could see seemed to grow darker. Until that moment, the insecurity Dieter had over Din being better suited for this job had never occurred to you, but you could see it clear as day now.  “Fuckin’ Din…”, he growled as he stood up and moved towards you.

Trying to not let him see how intimidated you were as he stood far closer than you thought necessary as he glowered down at you, you held that tight smile and looked him up in the face.

“Tell Gary to call Din so he can watch me-”, he snarls lowly, poking his finger into your collarbone, “-an’ see how this show is ‘sposed to be done.”

After you’d relayed the message to Gary and watched his face go even redder, you went back to the ticket desk and tried to look busy. Gary was going to be in a mood tonight, having to pay both Dieter and Din to be there, and given how hot it was, he already knew that attendees would complain about the lack of AC so admission would be 50% instead of having to issue refunds. It was going to be a long, rough night. 

For the next hour, you handled the small crowd of attendees coming in, then hit a lull, allowing you a moment to pull out your phone and scroll through your socials mindlessly.

“Hey.”

Din’s voice cut through the ambient crowd chatter from the lobby and theatre and you clumsily tucked your phone in your bra and looked up, trying to give him as sweet and soft of a smile you could muster.

“Hey yourself.” You cringed internally at the saccharine, soft tone of your voice, but you couldn’t help but fall into this coquettish nightmare version of yourself when he was around. 

Din swallowed and nodded, eyes darting over you nervously. He cleared his throat and tapped the desk a few times and nodded again.

“Let Gary know I’m here, yeah?”, he murmured, taking one last look at you before heading down the ramp to Dieter’s dressing room.

You watched him walk away, his tight little ass hugged beautifully in his dark, faded jeans, and you let out a hopelessly desperate breath. Din, despite being an enigma to you, had you in a chokehold and he didn’t even know it.

That routine carried on for the next week: Gary would send you to Dieter to see if he needed to call Din; Dieter would make a vague pass at you and when rejected, he would tell you Din needed to come in; Gary would look like he was going to have an aneurysm; Din would come in and shyly say hello. 

Capers was closed on Sundays and this particular Saturday felt like it was dragging. Before Gary could call out and send you to Dieter’s room, you were already at his office door asking if he needed to know if Din was coming in. Opening the ‘Staff Only’ door and being hit in the sinuses with weed haze didn’t have the same impact as it had before and you didn’t bother announcing yourself before you walked into Dieter’s dressing room.

“Din?”, you asked flatly, giving him a bored look. 

He looked up at you, noting your lack of enthusiasm and his interest was piqued. “Awe, CeeBee. Take a seat and a hoot with me, sweetheart.”

If you had been blindfolded and didn’t already know he was sitting in front of you, you wouldn’t have known it was Dieter speaking; his tone was much softer and almost Din-like. For a moment, your guard was dangerously close to coming down and the way he looked at you through the blue haze from his bong was almost too enticing for you to ignore.

But then he coughed hard and let out a fart, making himself laugh. The illusion was broken and a scowl sat on your bored face. 

“Din?” you repeated in a far more firm tone. 

Dieter continued to giggle and cough, obviously ignoring your annoyance and once he was settled he nodded before taking another hit off the bong. He sat upright and blew the smoke into the air, coughing again.

“Yeah, baby… you know the drill. He needs to watch the master work.”

“And you really think that’s you? Seriously?”

It came out before you could stop yourself. God, you must be PMS’ing what with your inability to hold back your words or your facial expressions. 

Dieter stilled, eyeing you warily. You saw the shift. The annoying stoner had evaporated into the smoke in the room and what was now standing from the couch was a considerably angry looking Dieter.

 “What was that?” His voice was solid and low, almost coming out in a dangerous growl. 

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out as he took a few strides and stood above you, glaring down at you.

“I didn’t catch that, CeeBee. You wanna say that again?”

The low and burning timbre of his voice did something to you that you hated more than anything -  it turned you on. You could feel how wet you were getting as his intense puffs of breath from his nose hit you in the face. His brown eyes were dark and narrowed right onto yours and just by shifting his weight he was closer to you, backing you against the wall next to his door. His hand came up beside your head, planting his palm on the wall while the other gripped your chin ever so gently.

His head tilted slightly and his voice was softer, but still held the edge of his temper. “I put up with a lot from you, you know, CeeBee. Don’t think you appreciate what a fuckin’ gentleman I’ve been.”

Despite the position you were in, you couldn’t help but scoff. Dieter shook his head, his grip on your chin becoming a bit firmer.

“I mean it. I’ve been good. You think anyone would hear you scream from down here?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the threat and he smiled.

“There it is.”, he chuckled darkly. “Knew you were a smart girl.” 

He leaned forward, mouth far too close to yours and murmured, “Might not be as in shape as the Virgin Din, but I know how to take you down a few pegs, honey…”

God dammit. Fuck. Whatever he was doing was working and the self loathing you had become well acquainted with in all your morning afters was getting itself ready for another bout. But then your mind stopped, going back to what he said about Din.

“Virgin?”

The smug smirk on Dieter’s face grew into a smile as he leaned back and he purred,  “Yeah, you think that nerd has ever put his dick in anything that wasn’t made of silicone?”

You could feel yourself getting hotter and wetter by the second. Why was Dieter talking about Din like that so hot? And why did his eyes boring into yours as he spoke make you feel like you were being put in your place? Sure, you’d maintained prolonged eye contact with Dieter in a standoff situation more than once. But this? This was different; he had the upper hand and knew it, and was now toying with you.

His hand on your chin moving down to your neck and barely putting any pressure, like he was testing the waters. His eyes followed suit. 

“I can see your pulse…”, he murmured, eyes lidded and fixed on the side of your neck. He brushed his thumb over your pulse point and his eyes snapped back up to yours. He inhaled and in his exhale, he breathed out, “You like this…”

He wet his lips and he had you wound so tightly around his fingers, you could have come from that act alone. Dieter was mesmerizing and his ability to seduce was something you never expected. 

“I caught you watching him, you know.” With that low growl of a declaration, you swear you saw a possessive flash in his eyes, and his grip on your throat tightened slightly. “He wouldn’t know what to do with you. But I do…”

“Bra-Bravo… ple-”

He cut you off with a grin. “You wanna break that vow of celibacy you been clingin’ to?”

You scoffed and bit back, “I have not been celibate!”

Dieter laughed lowly and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You just fuckin’ everyone but me, huh?” Then pressed another kiss to your cheek. “Whorin’ it up and not letting me have a bite?” He kissed the other cheek. “So mean, baby.”

He ghosted his mouth over yours, and he pulled back as you tried to catch his lips with your own. You let out a soft whimper and he returned a mock-pout to you in response. “Awe, CeeBee. Don’t tell me that all you needed was a firm hand and I coulda fucked you on this couch years ago…”

“Fuck you…” You spat through gritted teeth.

“I’d love to, honey.” The juxtaposition between the softness of his eyes and voice, and the force of his hand pushing between your thighs made your head spin. His large hand cupped your whole crux and his middle finger pressed the cheap, thin polyester fabric of your toga against your thong-clad slit.

Dieter sucked in a breath between his teeth and looked almost pained and he groaned, “Fuck, you’re soaked…”

It was like he broke character at the hint of a sopping wet pussy and the real Dieter came back out for a split second. “I need her, CeeBee… bet she’s aching for me, too.”

His mouth met yours in a hungry, fevered, desperate kiss, his tongue shoving its way past your teeth and against yours. You gripped onto anywhere you could - neck, shoulders, hair - and he grabbed your ass and hauled you up and over to the couch, letting you fall back onto it unceremoniously. Before you could react, he was down on his knees between your open legs, frantically tossing your toga skirt up, covering your head.

“Bravo! What the fu-ooooooh!” Your confusion turned to pleasure as his mouth kissed your heat through your thong with the same fervor he’d kissed your mouth.

He reached under you as he kept his mouth on you, pulling your thong down. He sat up and brought the small clump of damp fabric to his nose and inhaled. 

“I fuckin’ knew it…”, he groaned. “Holdin’ out this sweet of a pussy on me.”

He dove back in.

Unbeknownst to both you and Dieter, Gary got tired of waiting. He’d assumed that you and Dieter were having a blowout argument and that’s why you hadn’t returned yet and he called Din in. Whether Dieter was going on tonight or not, just in case he decided to throw a fit, Din needed to be here.

Twenty-five minutes later, Din walked in the front door and was surprised to see the ticket desk unmanned. He was disappointed; he liked seeing you and seeing that smile and hearing your voice. Even if outwardly he didn’t show it, he had nightly dreams about pulling you apart and making you whimper and whine under him. But he never took the chance; a girl like you probably already knew what a good fuck felt like and Din hadn’t made love to anyone ever. Never even gotten a blowjob, let alone a handjob. What 36 year-old was still a virgin? He knew what kind - him. The loser who grew up in a religious cult, the kid with the only outside influence being kung fu and swashbuckling movies watched in secret in his cousin’s basement. Those were the only taste of the outside world he had and as soon as he turned 18 and escaped, he found a mixed martial arts studio to train him then he found Caper… and then you. It would have all been perfect - if he knew what to do with his dick. 

He sighed and dropped his shoulders. Adjusting his backpack, he wandered down the ramp to the ‘Staff Only’ door and pushed in.

The first thing that hit him was the smell of Dieter’s weed, and before he could feel nauseated at the smell again, he heard… Din furrowed his brows. He knew that sound, but only in his late night fantasies. His eyes widened and he sucked in a breath, covering his mouth.

It was you. 

Then he heard Dieter, grunting and groaning, and his heart sank. Just from those sounds alone, he knew Dieter had finally sunk his claws into you and he didn’t have a hope in hell in having you to himself. He swallowed back the dejected huff, about to turn away and leave. But he couldn’t; the chance to at least get to see you all laid out and in ecstasy was too great a temptation, even if he wasn’t the one to do it to you. 

Cautiously, he took a few steps to Dieter’s dressing room door. It was open halfway and he thought if he could just take a peek, just get a glimpse, he would be set for the next six months at least in his nightly self-loving session. 

He crept up to the door, peering around the frame, and almost choked. There you were, naked and on your hands and knees, crying out and gripping the sofa as Dieter had one foot planted on the floor and the other he kneeled on as he pounded into you, his hand digging into the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth went dry and he could feel his jeans getting tighter in the crotchular region, mindlessly rubbing his bulge against the door frame in small motions. 

When Dieter reached one of his thick arms around your waist and brought your back up flush with his front and Din got his first look at your bare breasts, bouncing in time with Dieter’s thrusts, he let out an involuntary groan, inadvertently alerting you and Dieter to his presence.

Your eyes, hazy and heavy lidded, snapped to Din’s face watching through the doorway and Dieter chuckled into your ear before sucking your lobe into his mouth.  His eyes bore into Din’s and Din couldn’t look away. He couldn’t move, he was frozen in place.

Dieter smiled, his teeth holding on to your ear as he grunted and thrusted up into you.

“Din… her cunt’s perfect. Ripe and ready to snatch your v-card, buddy.”

You watched as Din’s hips involuntarily bucked against the door frame and Dieter felt you flutter and clench around him. 

“Mmmm… she wants you, too, my dude.”

You whined as Dieter let you go, shoving you face down on  the couch and pulling out. Din watched with eyes wide as Dieter walked tall and proud towards him, his cock bouncing up against his paunch of a belly. Din stumbled back, his back hitting the wall and Dieter stepped out into the hallway and crowded again Din, caging him between his arms and bringing his face right up to his.

“You wanna taste her?” Dieter rasped, his mouth close enough to Din’s that he could smell your tangy musk on his breath. 

Din’s mouth was agape and eyes wide as Dieter leaned in and kissed him. It was much softer than Din could have ever expected Dieter to be, but he gasped into Dieter’s grin when the older man’s hand palmed the front of Din’s jeans, feeling just how hard his dip into voyeurism had made him.

“Oh you’re ready, aren’t you, buddy…”, Dieter grunted, pulling back slightly to watch as Din’s eyes rolled back as he applied more pressure and Din bucked his hips against his hand. He smiled as he watched the younger man pant and huff and he kissed him again, this time more aggressively. Dieter then pulled Din away from the wall and dragged him into his dressing room, standing behind him while ensuring Din’s eyes were on you. Dieter wrapped his arms around his slight waist and started undoing his jeans as he kissed his neck.

“Now… Ceebee’s ready… got her all primed up for you.”, he purred, then nodded towards you. “Show him.”

You hesitated, unsure if this is not only what you really wanted but also for Din. But then Din bit his lip looking at you in a way that set your body on fire and Dieter gave you a firm glare, wordlessly taking control of the situation. You tentatively laid back and opened your legs, pussy puffy, pink and glistening. Din whimpered and Dieter smiled darkly at you.

“Good girl…” His tone was low and dark and he kissed Din’s neck again, sliding the zipper fly of his jeans down. “You want that? Wanna feel it wrap around your dick, there, bud?”

Din nodded eagerly, a pained, yearning look on his face as his eyes stayed glued to your exposed core. 

“Yeah?”, Dieter breathed out against Din’s neck, lifting his shirt to expose his toned midriff. “I know you’re packin’...”

Din huffed out a whine and closed his eyes, leaning back as Dieter’s hand pushed down his underwear enough that his cock slapped up against his stomach. The top was red and weeping, looking painfully hard. Dieter gently gripped it and you watched as Din’s knees nearly buckled as he let out a loud whine.

“Shhh… I know… new things… overwhelming… Doing so good for me, buddy.”, Dieter cooed softly, his thick arm holding Din up against him while the other gently began to stroke him. “Ceebee, honey… look at him. Fuckin’ hung…”

Your eyes hadn’t left Din’s cock. Even in Dieter’s large hand it looked big, and your cunt ached in need. You sucked in a breath through your nose and your lips parted as you exhaled shakily. 

“She likes you, Din… Look at her. All flushed and needy… look how wet she is…”

Din nodded and whimpered, biting his lip hard as Dieter spoke softly as he stroked him. His head lolled back onto Dieter’s shoulder and he panted out, “I… I wan’her… but I-I don’know wha-”

“Shhhh… Dieter Bravo has you covered, buddy. Bet you you’re gonna wanna marry her after this.”

He nipped his neck and released Din’s cock and put his hands on his hips. Din huffed out, a pained look on his face and Dieter nodded to you.

“Look at her, Din… You wanna feel how warm and wet she is?” Dieter’s voice was low and his eyes were menacingly dark. He nudged Din towards you, his shins and knees hitting the edge of the couch between your open legs.

You looked up at him, lips parted and brows furrowed; he looked perfect and so very overwhelmed. His hair was beginning to stick to his forehead and his small, husky whimpers were making it very hard to not just get him away from Dieter. 

“Din… if you don’t want thi-”

“N-no!”, he choked out, looking down at you. His pupils had taken over his whole eye and his features were pulled in a way that made him look almost demonic. “No… fuck, no I wan-want this- you. I want you.”

You nodded, your breath hitching at his apparent enthusiastic - and slightly unnerving - need. 

“Atta boy, Dinny…”, Dieter praised in a growl. “You wan’her snatch suckin’ you in?”

Din nodded, mouth hung open, panting as his eyes stared at your pussy. Dieter continued to chuckle, gripping Din’s hips as his cocked stayed hard and twitching against his flat stomach. 

“You ever touched the winking eye of god, buddy?” Dieter cooed. Din shook his head slightly, still dumbly staring down at you. Dieter nudged Din again, onto his knees between your legs. “Go on… don’t be shy…”

Din brought a shaky hand to your core, a whisper soft touch of his index finger moved slowly around your hole and then up against your clit, making you twitch and let out a gasping whine. 

“See? She likes that…” Dieter’s eyes flick to you. “Don’t you, CeeBee?”

You nodded and moaned out an ‘uh-huh’. You let out a whimpering yelp as he pushed two fingers into you suddenly, and Dieter’s hand gripped his wrist.

“Ho, ho, ho, buddy! Easy… gotta be gentle with her…”, he tsk’d softly, his brows furrowed and he pulled Din’s hand back gently. 

“S-sorry… I-”

“S’okay, Din… it’s okay…”, you nodded looking up at him. It didn’t hurt, it just surprised you.

Dieter moved his hand up over Din’s and adjusted Din’s thumb over your clit, having him apply just the right amount of pressure in a circular motion. “That’s it… ringin’ the devil’s doorbell…”

Dieter released his hand and Din pushed two fingers back into you slowly, keeping the mobile pressure on your bundle of nerves. Despite the slight jerky motions and the bit of hangnail Din had on one of his fingers, for a first timer, it felt pretty good. Dieter patted Din’s hip and moved around to you, dipping his head down and kissing you. 

“You gonna give him a good time, CeeBee?” The softness in his eyes and the direct way he asked told you that he ironically and weirdly had a great deal of respect for the ritual you were about to take part in, the one involving Din losing his virginity. 

You nodded, huskily replying, “Yeah, Bravo-ooh fuck! Yes… r-right there!” then panting out moans.

Din’s long fingers had found the spot that had evaded so many men in your life. And he hit it over and over, and his thumb, the way his thumb kept the motion on it… 

Dieter got up quickly and moved behind Din, his hands on his shoulders, nodding. “Keep doing that… Yes, yeah, good boy. Yeah… when she makes that sound? You keep doing whatever it is you were doing when she made that sound.”

Din’s breath panted out between his teeth as he bit his lip in time with his fingers in and out of you. Dieter didn’t know where to look: you, knees bent and legs open, whining and arching your back or Din, sweating and hypnotized by your pussy sucking his fingers in. He swallowed hard and put his hands back on Din’s slim waist and almost hoarsely encouraged him as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Come on, buddy… you got her this close… come on… make her cry… keep - Christ on a cracker - keep going…”

Din’s breath hitched with each inhale and his cock was painfully hard, beading precum on his toned stomach, and you could feel your orgasm slipping with his loss of rhythm. You reached down and gently grabbed his wrist to stop him, looking at his face.

Din was on another level of existence. His eyes were glazed and his bottom lip was wet and reddened from his worrying it between his teeth and his cheeks, neck and the part of his chest you could see were flushed and damp. 

“Buddy…”, Dieter whispered as he pressed soft kisses on his neck. “She wants you, baby…”

Din nodded loosely, his brows furrowing, and the only sound that came from him was a low whine as Dieter’s hands pulled his jeans and underwear down further on his hips. You sat up and tugged his t-shirt up and off his body and there he was. 

“God, I remember when I looked this good…”, Dieter groaned, reaching around and smearing his hand through the precum on Din’s stomach. Din hissed and groaned as Dieter gripped his cock and rolled his foreskin up and over the tip with a gentle twist a few times, making the younger man shudder and whine and lean back against him. 

You watched this severely intimate moment between the two men and you could feel your arousal slick your hole even more than it was. “Din…”, you mewled.

Dieter’s gaze snapped to you and he grinned, his brow flicking. “Hear that, buddy? She’s askin’ for you. You and your big, fuckin’ hog. Wants you to rail her. You think you can?”

“Y-yesgodpleaseyes!”, DIn grunted out, desperation and agony bleeding his words together.

Dieter nodded, a silent, huffed chuckle rippled out of him and over Din’s skin, and you watched the goosebumps raise where it touched. He stopped his movement and held his cock, thumbing the slit gently.  “How you gonna take her, huh? You wanna fuck’er from behind, holdin’ on to her tits? She feels so good like th-”

“I… wanna see… her face.”, he stammered out slack jawed, keeping his dazed eyes on yours.

Wordlessly you took his hand and pulled him down to you, and he responded by kissing you. Given that it was only his second time locking lips with another person ever, you excused how wide he had his mouth and how forcefully his tongue jabbed your teeth. 

You reached between the two of you and wrapped your hand around Din’s aching member and he whined pitifully into your mouth, bucking his hips. Dieter put his hands on his waist and dug his fingers in as he hotly growled into Din’s ear, “So fuckin’ ready, Dinny-boy!”

You notched Din’s cock at your waiting entrance and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, with Dieter hushing him from behind. 

It was then that you heard him - Gary was yelling for you, Dieter or Din as he walked down the ramp towards the ‘Staff Only’ door. Dieter’s head whipped up and at his open dressing room door then back at you, eyes wide with a hesitant grin pulling at one side of his mouth. 

“You two… you keep going… I’ll - “, he stated softly, thumbs pointing at the door, and with that, he got up, threw on his robe. 

It was almost too late when Dieter bounded towards the door and he ended up slamming it behind him just as Gary walked into the hallway. 

“Bravo, I been callin’ for-” “We are meditating.”, Dieter replied, trying to keep his tone as ‘zen’ as possible as he put his palms together and bowed. “We are healing what is fractured.”

Gary stared at him for a beat before narrowing his eyes. “You’re what?” “Meditating. And you are bringing in some real bad energy, there, Gare-bear.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?”, Gary barked back, confusion and nervousness right under the surface.

Dieter smiled, keeping his voice smooth and calm. “Your negative vibes are giving you what we call ‘energy constipation’... so come in, sit on the floor with us and hum your body’s vibration to give yourself a spiritual laxative.”

Gary must have thought that he died and this was his own personal hell. He stared at Dieter for a second too long, trying to find anything to say, but only managed a hoarsely gruff “No.” before he turned and left the hallway. 

Dieter watched him leave and when the ‘Staff only’ door closed, he breathed out a sigh of relief and returned to the room. 

Din had his eyes clenched shut, hissing curses under his breath as you hushed him. Dieter couldn’t ignore the want apparent in your voice. 

“He in yet?”, he asks softly, crawling in behind Din again. He noted you giving him a nodding shrug and he nodded back. “Buddy, come on…”

Dieter gripped Din’s hips and pushed them forward gently enough for his cock to wedge its way into you. You gasped and gripped Din’s shoulders.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod!”, Din whined out as his cock moved into you. He tilted his head back, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Din was thick and you were torn between feeling honored that you were the first to feel his girth stretch your pussy and what a shame it was that he wasn’t getting his hog sucked or fucked regularily. As his coarse hairs at the base of his pressed up against your clit, your mind went blank. Sure, you’d had dicks of all sizes throughout your trysts and encounters, but Din was the biggest. Even Dieter, with his extensive experience, couldn’t compare to how big Din was and what it was doing for you… apparently, size did matter.

“Jesus fuckin - Din… honey… you’re huge…”

Dieter’s hands on his hips pulled Din back and then pushed him forward. “Keep this pace…”, he murmured, peering over Din’s shoulder. “Look… look down… Jesus, look…”

Din managed to bring his head down and it was almost too much, seeing your tits rise and fall with each breath while his cock went into you and came out, shining with your arousal. 

“There’s nothing better, Dinny-boy…”, Dieter cooed before kissing his neck. You watched between slitted eyelids as one of his hands came up to Din’s chest, gently tweaking one of his nipples. 

It happened in slow motion: Din’s body jerked and he let out an agonized groan, your eyes widened and you grabbed his arms, and Dieter’s smile dropped and he pulled Din’s hips back.

Din’s cock was already spewing white, pearly cum as it popped up and out of you. His come dribbled out of your pussy and off your mound, lips and the creases where your thighs met your crux, pooling under you. All three of you were breathing heavily, while Din’s brows furrowed above his clenched eyes and you and Dieter exchanged glances.

The quiet of all of your breathing was cut by Dieter scoffing, “Well that was fuckin’ rude.”

You stared at him, completely disgusted by his audacity and snapped, “Bravo, what the fuck??”

Din murmured “I’m sorry.” and you sympathetically rubbed his arm.

“It’s okay… we ca-we can try again?”, you offered softly.

Dieter scoffed again, sounded offended, but you weren’t sure at what. “No! I saw what you did there, Din, and that was NOT the way! You’re cleanin’ up his fuckin’ mess like a gentleman!”

“Dieter - Jesus Christ!”

He roughly grabbed Din around the waist and pulled him back with one arm and his other wrapped under his armpit in a Half Nelson, his hand gripping his hair. His grin was scarily intimidating. “Party’s not over. You’re gonna make her cum, fingers and mouth.”

Din nodded, clearly spooked but fully on board for whatever, and Dieter shoved his face into your pussy and held it there.

If Din was shaky on his first time putting his dick in a pussy, he was a natural born killer with his mouth. He took to it like a fish to water, intuitively going for your clit with tongue then his mouth. You let out a sigh and smiled, feeling like you had to fight your eyes from crossing. 

“Yeah…”, Dieter groaned, letting Din go and getting up. He pushed his weed rolling tray off the coffee table and shoved his pants to his ankles before sitting on the table and gripping his cock in his hands while he had a front row seat to Din eating you out. 

Din had watched enough porn and read enough about how eating pussy was like using your tongue to get the meat from between the bones on a chicken wing that he felt confident enough about it, and your sighs and soft breathy sounds encouraged him to keep going.

He adjusted his face lower, shoving his tongue into you and ground his nose against your bundle of nerves, sending a wave of pleasure over your body. The only thing that could dampen this was - 

“She taste good, buddy?”, Dieter grunted, tugging his cock. His face was red and sweaty and on every downstroke, his fist pushed into his belly.  

“Shut the fuck up, Bravo!”, you hissed, arching your back slightly and grabbed your tits,worrying your nipples between your fingers.

Dieter grinned, grunting, “Tell me to shut up again… I wanna cum on your tits while he tongue fucks you.”

You were about to retort, but Din moved his mouth back up to your clit, and shoved a few fingers into you and began pumping them in and out. You pinched your nipples hard and cried out, screeching his name and Din moaned and whined as your arousal squirted up his arm and on his lower face.

Dieter stood up and took a step towards you but tripped over his pants still around his ankles, falling face first on the floor.

Din sat up, his shoulders rising and falling with the biggest grin on his wet face. “You’re so pretty…”

You thought it was such an oddly innocent thing to say to you, given the things that just transpired, but you smiled at him. You both couldn’t hold back the giggles and Din caged you between his elbows as he leaned down and kissed you. 

As you made out on the couch, Dieter groaned face down on the floor. “I think I broke my dick.”

That night’s show went down as one of the best Din had ever given, while Dieter went to the hospital for a broken wrist and potentially bruised phallus. You were sure Gary knew exactly what had happened in the dressing room, but he said nothing beyond a quick nod and a maybe half smile. 

The doors opened and you looked at the rows of friends and family in rows on either side of the room, then your eyes locked with Din as he stood at the other end of the aisle, next to Dieter. His mouth twitched, showing the emotion he was trying to keep at bay, as you walked towards him. When you finally stood in front of him, he took your hand, and you both faced Dieter.

“Dearly beloved.”, Dieter started with a smile. “You are gathered here to watch me marry these two chucklefucks because I’m the one who brought them together.”

Gary huffed angrily from the front row. “Jesus Christ, Bravo.”

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

[toapril-official]

Can you believe it? ToApril is upon us again!

It's ToApril time! In case you need a refresher or are new to the event, here are the rules of ToApril!

Please keep it ToA-related! ToA-related means that it takes into account events from the ToA book series. This may include but not limited to: Emmie and Jo's relationship deep dive, Apollo and Meg shenanigans, Apollo and his kids, post canon Reyna figuring out her way in the Hunt and so forth.

No NSFW! This is an event for both adults and minors.

ToApril 2025 AO3 Collection

For our writers, the ToApril collection is up and running once more! Here's how you can add your fic to the collection.

Click on this to access the ToApril 2025 collection. To add a fic to the collection, simply go to the page and click 'Post to Collection' as shown below.

2. Make sure that under 'Associations', it is listed as toapril_2025.

3. Once you are done, simply post the fic as normal!

* Please note that the ToApril 2025 collection will not open until March 31st!!

If you want to post your creation on Tumblr, please do tag this blog or use #toapril and #toapril2025! We look forward to seeing everyone's creations this year :)!

Prompts for this year can be found below the cut:

{Transcript:

Day 1: Tumbling Love

Day 2: Heavy are the Resting Laurels

Day 3: Hope Breathed Alive

Day 4: Spiralling

Day 5: Through The Snake’s Lies

Day 6: In Friends We Trust

Day 7: Home, Hearth and Grief

Day 8: Echoes of Battle Cries

Day 9: Feast for the Gods

Day 10: Redemption of a Ghost

Day 11: Spring Rains

Day 12: Eyes that Glow Gold

Day 13: Rollback to Disco

Day 14: Pact from Our Youth

Day 15: Soul-Entwined But Forgotten

Day 16: Haunting Plagues

Day 17: Scapegoat / A Repeat of History

Day 18: A Single Drop

Day 19: Nurturing Seeds

Day 20: Untangling of A Secret

Day 21: The Gilded Cage

Day 22: Leap of Faith

Day 23: Failed Escape

Day 24: Gone Again

Day 25: Silence Before The Storm

Day 26: Something Wrong, Something Amiss

Day 27: Milkshakes and Confessions

Day 28: Under the Stars

Day 29: Reeled Back

Day 30: Sunset On The Horizon

/end Transcript}

Massive thank you's to @ferodactyl, @ego-sum-deus-fractus, @heresronnie21, @firealder2005, @femmefangirl, @plumblossom37, @xxzephyrbreezexx, @hukat7, @bubblegumsugarpop, @zurophina9 and linh_72689 on Discord for helping with the prompts!

[imagines--galore]

HELLO HELLO I SAW YOUR LITTLE JIM HAWKINS POST AND I GOTTA ADMIT! I LOVE THE BOY TOO!

was wondering if could request a little jim x reader who meet at the academy and have a little rivalry before becoming lovers? thanks! remember to take care, drink lots of water and stay safe!

Summary: Jim Hawkins & Y/n Y/l/n. Two of the most promising candidates to arrive at the Interstellar Academy in years. From academics to knowing their way around a ship, the both of them were on equal footing. Too bad they see the other as a rival. Then again, perhaps it was a good thing. For if they were to team up, they could conquer the entire galaxy if they wanted to. But when did that rivalry changed into something more? Pairing: Jim Hawkins x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None. A/N: I mean who doesn't love the boy :3 Ok so the song I decided to pick is Téir Abhaile 'Riú by Celtic Woman. And I borrowed some elements from Kingdom Dance from Tangled because I love that scene. :3 And this got a little longer then I intended it to be.......I added too much detail to everything. Woops? Had a lot of fun with your request though!

You pursed your lips as you observed your reflection in the full length mirror. To say Emmy had been insistent about you donning a pretty outfit for the occasion would be an understatement. Your roommate had practically threatened you with it, saying she would no longer speak to you if you did not dress up. Honestly the female Canid didn't need to threaten you, no one could say no to her. Not even you.

So when she had dug through your closet and taken out the articles of clothing she deemed worthy for the event, you had put them on with no complain. A blouse and a corset with a skirt paired with shoes. The latter you had picked out yourself, having no desire to wear anything impractical should you need to kick someone in the nuts.

"You look gorgeous, Y/n." Parla your third roommate trained one of her several eyes in your direction, while simultaneously applying some black goo to the eyelashes of her remaining eye. "By human standards." Quel barely glanced up from where she was oiling her arms. You were thankful she was, your android roommate had a tendency to squeak when her joints would run out of oil. Emmy grinned proudly as she put the final touches to your hair and stepped away to appraise her work.

"Maybe you'll catch a sailor's eye while in town y/n." She giggled, prompting you to roll your eyes at her. "I doubt I'll have the time." You crossed your arms over your chest. "Since I will be making sure you don't run off half-drunk, Parla doesn't get in trouble because of her wandering eye and avoid Quel being stripped for parts by some con-person."

You had grown to be protective of your roommates over the years you had lived together. Emmy cooed as she reached out to embrace you sweetly. "You don't have to worry about us, honey! We've all excelled at our combat classes. Not to mention we'll have dates who can protect us." Both you and Quel glared at Emmy who only gave a nervous laugh. "Did you have to rope us all into dates?" The android asked, her mechanical voice somehow sounding annoyed. "Its best to go in a large group." Parla came to Emmy's rescue. "My grandmother says there might be some pirates or thieves in the crowd. And given the number of people that have come for the Ball, its best to find strength in numbers."

Emmy nodded enthusiastically. "Perhaps it is best to accept our fate and simply go along with the situation." Quel spoke as she stood and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You sighed, closing your eyes briefly before shrugging and allowing a smile to play on your lips. You weren't about to be a spoilsport and ruin everyone's fun. After the month all of you had had, with the exams and revisions and tests and selecting the courses you would be majoring in, you all deserved a break.

A bright smile pulled at your lips and Emmy very early squealed at the sight. "Here's to having a night none of us will ever forget!" You stated with conviction, opening the door and leading your friends out of your shared room.

Little did you know how true those words would be for you.

                                          ————————–

The town of Aonadh enjoyed a rather prestigious position. On one hand it was the closest to the reputable Interstellar Academy. An Institute that had been thriving for years and housed the future generation of sailors for the Queen's Armada. Many living in town had relatives who went there, or had some other form of relation with the Academy.

On the other hand, the town served as a harbor for many ships. From merchant vessels carrying riches and trading goods, to the crafts bringing new hopefuls to begin the next phase of their journey. The port of Aonadh was always bustling, always busy. There was never a quiet moment. Every other hour would bring a new ship in. Either to relieve itself of its cargo, have repairs done, or pick up people who wished to travel.

Really town was a small word for Aonadh, but the people refused to call it a city. Their ancestors started as humble farmers before the location of the Academy changed their status to something more. They were proud of what they had accomplished over the years as well as their status so a town it remained. One could find almost every life form residing in town, Arcturians, Aquanogs, Canids, Centaurous, Cragorians, Densadrons, Felinids, Geeories, Humans, Macriki, Mantavors, Minotarous, Optocs, Roboticas, Sirenius, Tuskrus, Zirrelians and a hundred more. No one could remember the first specie that lived in Aonadh and no one cared. Everyone was treated on an equal footing and the town had a huge council that had a member from every specie living in Aonadh.

There were several attractions that beckoned the young Cadets at the Academy to spend their time off in town. From pubs that never ran out of ale, to shopping markets that overflowed with the finest wares. Not to mention the massive library that housed more then a million scrolls, books, hoverstories and maps. To say nothing of the lavish streets and squares where something was always happening.

Of course the ports were the most exciting place to be. One could meet new people, learn about shipping from seasoned sailors, or even catch a tour of one if a Cadet was so lucky.

At present the excitement going about had something to do with several large ships that had docked not a day ago. Ships carrying Cadets who had passed out over the years and were coming back for their annual party of sorts. The Annual Ball it was called. Held every ten years. A huge affair. One of the biggest ones to ever occur in the entire galaxy. Guests of honor and other people of importance were sent invitations, while the rest of them simply showed up. Unless they were on duty or had anything of importance to attend to everyone came.

                                          ————————–

It was certainly the busiest Jim Hawkins had seen it. In the years he had attended the Academy there had been several festivals he had attended with his friends, but not one of them came close to the excitement of today.

However that excitement had died down to be replaced by a burning annoyance at the sight of the only other human in his year. The very human who was now sitting at the same table as him, both of you sipping from your drinks.

It wasn't that you had anything against being set up for a blind date, it was the boy you had been set up with.

What existed between you and Jim was something of an anomaly. The both of you were the best in your batch, and quite frankly, some Professors seemed to be of the notion that you were both the best Cadets they had seen in years.

If only the two of you got along.

A bitter rivalry had formed between the both of you. Neither of you remembered who had taken the first shot, but all you knew was that you had to one up the other. And that was how it had been your entire career at the Academy.

Spiteful comments thrown at one another. Hateful glances whenever the other would be praised. Childish pranks just to annoy the other. Goading and baiting that resulted in either one or both of you getting into trouble.

The list was endless.

Honestly, if it wasn't so entertaining the Academy would've had taken action years ago. You often wandered if perhaps you and Jim had a betting pool going around in the Academy. Parla had dropped hints here and there, but you weren't quite sure.

Well, whatever existed between you and Jim, it was destroying your evening. As soon as it became clear who your date was, Parla and Quel had made themselves scarce, having the intelligence to stay clear of the obvious Supernova that was about to erupt given yours and Jim's expressions. Emmy had quickly taken you aside, begging you to go along with it, and explaining how Lyon, her crush for a good year and a half, had said he didn't want to ditch his friend while he had fun.

So Emmy had offered a solution.

Correction.

Emmy had offered you as a lamb up for slaughter.

And being the soft-hearted idiot that you were, you had relented, agreeing to going along with Emmy's plan. Only because you knew she was half in love with Lyon, and maybe this night he would work up the courage to tell her of his feelings as well.

And as you sat there, watching your best friend sway in the arms of the half-felinid and half-human male, you couldn't help but give a small smile at the happiness that seemed to radiate from the both of them.

"There must be a Supernova freezing somewhere." Stars, even his voice was annoying.

You turned your head back to look at him, that annoyed frown returning. "And what makes you say that."

He smirked, hands behind his head as he rested against the back of the booth. "You were actually smiling. I thought she-demons never smiled. Something about bursting into flames and the world coming to an end, that sort of thing."

"I smile plenty Hawkins." You responded, pursing your lips. "I just don't happen to smile at maggots such as yourself." The insult, if it were called that, seemed to bristle him enough to warrant an eye roll, though he didn't respond.

Seemingly taking his silence as a win, you returned your attention to the dancing couples. The music was lively and there would certainly be more people coming in soon. Sighing, you wished you could join in the dancing. Of course there was no chance of that happening.

You had no desire to ask a stranger, for fear they would try something untoward. And there was no way in the entire galaxy you were about to ask Jim Hawkins to dance with you.

Glancing at your empty glass of drink, you stood and stretched, completely missing Jim watching you out of the corner of his eye. "If I am to tolerate your company for the rest of this evening I'm gonna get another drink." He rolled his eyes, prompting you to give him a glare that had one too many cadets backing off in fear.

But not Jim. Jim was used to your glares and stares and returned them at an equal footing.

Walking toward the bar, you waved at the many tentacled bartender who was quick to give you your drink. The glass was a little too full, prompting you to walk carefully back to your table.

Perhaps it should've been better that you kept your attention on the people around you rather then the drink you were trying not to spill.

A boisterous group of sailors jostled you, propelling you forward and causing your drink to spill.

Nearly emptying the entire contents of it down the front of one of the sailors who had bumped into you.

"What the hell!? Watch it!" He cried out, swiping at the front of his uniform in an effort to wipe away the liquid. Of course, that didn't help.

Angry at loosing your drink, you glared at the male. "You were the one too drunk to walk properly, how am I to blame for your incompetence?" Maybe it wasn't the wisest of decisions to be picking a fight with someone who looked like he had some Densadron blood in him, but you didn't care.

You were already having a horrible evening, so why not make it worse.

Your words only served to make the male, and his group of friends angry. Pursing your lips, your hand slipped to the hidden slit of your skirt where you kept a taser knife for safety reasons. Your fingers itched, ready to pull it out when suddenly the stare down between you and the male was broken by a very familiar voice.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you."

Astonished, you pivoted on your feet, just in time to see Hawkins drape an arm around your waist and pull you to his side. That wasn't what shocked you.

What shocked you the most was the smile he wore. One that was directed at you.

"Making friends I see." He continued while your brain tried it's best to compute the situation that was going on. "I'm sorry about that, my girlfriend gets a little light-footed when shes had one too many."

Girlfriend?!?!?

The group of sailors seemed to be calming down somewhat. Jim had that effect on people whenever he stepped in to stop a would-be squabble.

Ironic considering the numerous fights he had started in his younger days.

"How about she pay for the damage to my uniform, and I let her go." The male grunted, scowling down at the both of them. Suddenly his eyes zeroed in on you the way they hadn't before. A lecherous smile formed on his lips, one that had you scowling in disgust. "She can either pay money or show me a good time. I don't mind either." The rest of his group laughed boisterously, elbowing one another, wearing the same smile as their friend was.

His words seemed to snap you out of wherever your mind was. Pushing aside Jim's previous words, and trying hard not to comprehend where his arm still rested around her waist you opened your mouth to tell the disgusting male where he could shove something where the sun don't shine.

A firm but light pressure around your waist had you stopping. You watched, astonished, as Jim moved to stand in front of you, his stance protective, and an anger in his eyes that had you blinking in surprise.

"Or maybe I should have you reported for showing such disrespect to a future Captain of the Royal Armada."

It was then that the group realized who they were speaking to. Their gazes flitted to the pin you had proudly stuck to the right side of your chest. A coat of arms that assigned your rank, despite having not even graduated yet. Jim had the same pin, though his was hidden by the jacket he wore. Though he made no effort to hide it as he pushed aside the front of his garment to reveal it to the buffoons.

Being Captain meant you had authority and power that no lowly sailor had. It didn't matter what age you were, so long as you were a rank above, you held power.

And at that moment you wanted nothing more then to throw the idiot in jail for daring to make such a proposition to you.

The group began to retreat, taking their friend with them. The danger past, Jim turned his attention to you.

"You okay?" He asked, his eyes roving over your frame, as if looking for some sign of injury.

You nodded. "I'm fine." Despite there having been no physical altercation, you were still a little shaken. "You didn't need to step in. I had it handled." You finally said, still clutching your half full glass. Jim rolled his eyes.

"Not from where I was standing."

You scowled. "I was ready to fight him if I needed to."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "And get expelled so close to graduating? You're reckless Y/n, but I know you're not that reckless."

"And why should you care? Wouldn't you prefer to graduate top of the class all by yourself? Not share your spotlight with anyone."

He nodded. "I would." He paused before a teasing smile pulled at his lips. "But then who would be my rival when I make Captain?"

You waved your hand. "I'm sure you would find someone else to piss off."

"I doubt they would be as beautiful as you."

You gaped at him, had barely voiced your astonishment when his eyes widened in realization of what he had just said.

A bright blush overcame his cheeks, one that had him gulping nervously, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

"Y-you think I'm.............beautiful?" You could barely believe the words coming out of your mouth. An awkward shrug was his only response.

Normally you would've teased him mercilessly about revealing something so intimate. But right then? Having just been saved by him, and watching him stand there, unable to meet your gaze, you couldn't help but smile.

"Don't tell me its because of my beauty that you've been a pain in my ass all these years." Your tone was light, teasing, compelling him to respond in his usual sarcastic way.

"That and you're annoying." He stated, a smile pulling at his lips as his blush began to recede. You hummed. "I didn't take you as the romantic type Hawkins."

He leaned closer. "Theres a lot of things you don't know about me y/l/n. Though one thing I can tell about you, is that you've been wanting to dance the entire night but have been too stubborn to ask me." Now, it was your turn to blush as you glared at him. Had you been that obvious? But Jim wasn't deterred.

"Shall we?" He held out a hand, indicating that you take it if you wanted to fulfill your wish to dance.

You pursed your lips, your previous annoyance for him rising to the forefront. You would never call what you felt for Jim hatred, but you wouldn't call it affection either.

But right then, you mused as you took his hand and he led you the dance floor, maybe you could label your feelings for Jim as undetermined.

For the time being.

The dance floor had lost a few dancers as the musicians in the corner prepared to play yet another song. You looked around, feeling a little nervous. It had been awhile since you had danced, and while you had no doubt in your dancing skills, you didn't trust your partner fully.

"You're not going to drop me during a dip or something like that are you?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Jim laughed before shaking his head. "No, I promise I won't."

You frowned, leaning up to press the back of your hand against his forehead. "You're not running a fever are you?" You inquired, feeling your own forehead to compare the temperatures. He flushed at the sensation of her touch against his skin.

"No, why would you ask that?" His questions prompted you to shrug. "Well you're being nice to me, and neither of us have thrown an insult at the other in the last five minutes.

Jim nodded, looking impressed. "Must be a new record for us." He commented to which you laughed softly. "And I'm nice to you because I am a nice guy Y/n." He stated, to which you let out a very unlady-like sound. "Oh please, you've been anything but nice to me since we first met Jim."

Alright so it was strange to call him by his first name, but he had used your first name. And when he had? You had felt a sliver of warmth flicker in your heart. Maybe he would feel the same sensation you did?

Well you were right. At least about the warmth part. And though Jim felt that warmth in his heart, same as you, he also felt it steal across his cheeks.

God! He had never blushed so much in such a short span of time his entire life.

"Well you didn't make it easy now did you? You just had to be a smartass." You smirked. "Better a smartass then an idiot." Jim rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his toned chest. "I don't know, we've both done some pretty idiotic stuff over the years."

The musicians were still tuning and drinking. Apparently it was their break, and while there were several other couples standing around waiting for the dance to begin, your and Jim seemed to be encapsulated in your own little world.

"True, but they've been fun years. Memorable." You stated with a nostalgic smile, thinking back on all the times you had gotten into trouble playing pranks on your rival. "Ones neither of us will be forgetting for a long time." He agreed, matching your smile with his.

Your eyes met his, and you suddenly realized just how much Jim had changed over the years. He had been a little reckless and rebellious in the start, but those traits had toned down over the years. They would never be gone completely, but he had matured, no doubt about that. And not just personality wise, you mused, eyes roving his face, as if you were seeing him for the first time.

He had grown a lot taller the past few years. Taller then you at least, since he was a good head taller then you. And he was handsome, there was no denying that, and kind, given how he had just helped you out of what could've been an ugly situation. Not to mention he was extremely loyal, a trait you had always admired in him despite your rivalry.

Little did you know Jim was thinking along the same criteria. Remembering the day he had met you, and how annoying he had thought you were. With your perfect hair, perfect uniform and perfect scores. Then again his scores had always been perfect too, but he made up for it by being messy and a little rebellious.

You? You were always the picture of perfection. Even so close to graduation, every aspect of your life seemed perfect. From your scores, to your attendance record. Your gorgeous face, and expressive eyes to your hair that always looked so soft that he had to fight the urge to touch it at times.

Though today, he didn't hold back. Raising his hand, he brushed a loose tendril behind your ear, and if his hand lingered a little longer then necessary, and if it brushed against your ear, causing a gentle shudder to race through your body.

Your eyes never wavered, and it looked like he was about to say something.

Just then the music started.

Jim cursed, prompting you to raise an eyebrow at him. "Its a fast jig. I'm not really good with those." You smiled and shook your head. "Thats alright, I can teach you. Its easy."

So saying you quickly placed his hands in the appropriate places, one at your waist, the other holding your own aloft, fingers intertwining togther. As soon as you started moving, Jim cast his eyes downwards, trying his best not to step on your feet.

"Hey!" Your voice compelled him to look up, nearly catching your foot but you gave him a reassuring smile. "Eyes on me. You gotta dance right. Don't worry about my toes, they're made of steel."

He gave a dry laugh, but did as you asked him to. Neither of you looked away from the other, allowing the music from the minstrels and the voices of the singers to overtake all your senses.

You would sometimes tease him for a misstep, he would comment about your being a talented dancer who hid their talent, but there was no malice in your voices. Only playfulness, and dare you think, affection.

The jig began to pick up speed, the footwork getting a little complicated, but the steps were ones that kept repeating over and over, and Jim had always been a fast learner, and he had seen many people dance to this particular song over the years.

So when the part came where he had to twirl you away from him before bringing you back, the move was so effortless and fluid that it looked like you had rehearsed it. Your hair and skirt flew about you as you twirled back into him, your back against his chest, his arms around your body, hands clasped, keeping you close.

You tilted your head, breathless from the dance, your gaze meeting his. Suddenly all that playfulness became charged, and your eyes glimmered with a passion you had never felt before. His lips were so close to your own. To him your lips looked so inviting.

But then the dance continued, and you straightened in his embrace. This time though, this time neither of you spoke. Neither of you looked away as you continued to dance. Hearts beating faster, steps picking up speed, your movements becoming wilder more impassioned.

You twirled away from him, holding one side of your skirt aloft. The song was coming to a close. The last verse had begun, where you would dance around your partner, slow and playful, never breaking eye contact.

And the final chorus? That was the main attraction. Knowing what was to come, Jim braced himself. You took a running start, jumping a little as you neared him to give yourself enough momentum to fly upwards, only to have Jim catch you around your waist, spinning in a fast circle.

A laugh fell from your lips, your arms held aloft at your sides, enjoying the sensation of flying through the air. As Jim began to lower you, your head tilted to look at him once more. Your arms dropped to wrap around his broad shoulders, while his rested around your waist.

The song had ended, the both of you were breathing heavily, twin smiles of jubilation stretching your mouths as the crowd around you roared. It seemed both your dancing had attracted quite the crowd.

And the cheering doubled tenfold when Jim suddenly closed whatever distance was left between the both of you and fused his lips with yours. A moment of disbelief, where your eyes widened almost comically, before closing shut, lips moving as you kissed him back.

It was blissfully sinful, the way he kissed you. You sighed almost dreamily against his lips, allowing your fingers to play with his hair. Jim was no better, he was doing his best not to let his hands explore too much. You were still in public after all.

"What in the furthest reaches of the galaxy is happening here?"

The shrieking voice tore your apart. Extremely reluctantly, you might add as you both turned to glare at Emmy and Lyon in annoyance. Emmy looked like she was about to faint, while Lyon looked utterly bemused.

"We weren't disturbing you while you locked lips, so why're you disturbing us?" You asked, your arms still around Jim's shoulders. Then again his hands still rested on your back, keeping you close.

"Weren't the two of you just at each other's throats?" Lyon asked, blinking stupidly at the two of them. Jim smirked. "Well I can get to her throat again if you prefer. Though not in the same way as before." His words had Emmy squeaking, Lyon gaping, and you rolling your eyes and smacking the back of his head. "Lets not ruin their innocence Jim." You grinned.

"Maybe we should take this someplace private?" You whispered, gesturing between the both of you. "Away from prying eyes." Jim needed no further prompting.

Grasping your hand, he began to lead you out of the tavern. "Don't wait up!" He called out to your two best friends.

"What did I just say about ruining their innocence Hawkins?"

"What? We can always say we just played a game of battleship?"

"Really? That's the euphemism you're using?"

"So long as it clarifies that I'm gonna beat you at whatever we'll be doing."

"What makes you think you're gonna win?"

"I always win."

"Oh, we'll see about that!"

Emmy and Lyon stood blinking in disbelief as you and Jim walked out of the tavern, continuing your arguing.

"Were they talking about having sex, or actually playing Battleship?" Emmy asked, sounding just as bewildered as she looked. Lyon made a face.

"Knowing them, they were actually talking about the latter before moving on to the former."

Emmy shook her head. "Oh, there was nothing in the betting pool for this." She giggled. "Everyone is gonna be so angry."

[valensitaaaa]

Would she ever tease him like that? probably not 😂 is it a cute scene from Ms. Congeniality ? very much so 🥺❤️❤️❤️ Thank you so much Emmy for the idea, I love your content it never fails to make me laugh 🫶

But anyways back to the London Taimizu I’m manifesting the fact that Taigen is on that boat 😓

(I am probably gonna follow the prompt so this is technically not day one of Taimizu week but I still wanted to post something in the meantime 😭)

[toasecretsanta]

truth is that it was always going to end (this symphony buzzing in my head)

Merry (late) Christmas!!

This year’s ToA Secret Santa gave me [@firealder2005] @sadlynojellybeans as my match!! The prompts given were ‘ghosts of the past’; ‘the nature of mortality’; and ‘don’t look back’.

I used ‘the nature of mortality’. Do not be surprised by the angst ahaha, though i gotta admit— turned out a bit fluffier than i originally thought!

Enjoy!!

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Rating: Gen

 Warnings: Major Character Death

Title from Panic! At the Disco’s song The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty

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Word reached him on the currents of the winter wind. A cloud nymph whispered the news into his ear as he looked over the proposed plans for expanding Camp Half-Blood’s borders to make new accommodations, activities, and— of course— cabins.

It took a moment for it to register in his mind.

“She’s— what?” Apollo’s head snapped to his right, but the nymph had already dispersed, leaving naught but cloudy wisps behind to signal her presence.

His heart thudded. He pressed his lips together.

The plans were forgotten as he abruptly stood, writing a hasty note for Clio in case she came looking for him, and vanished in a funnel of sparkling gold.

Apollo reappeared in a familiar place. Though it had been a long time since the caretakers he had first met had run it, the Waystation still looked the same. Comfortable and expansive and oh-so welcoming. Perhaps even moreso ever since Britomartis had finally gotten the power to give her place of refuge proper care and attention.

(And isn’t that strange? Calling something of Britomartis’s welcoming…he must have become desensitized to her trappings, or something equally ridiculous.)

Emmie and Josephine would be proud to see how well their family was handling things. Apollo certainly was.

“Where is she?” He placed his palm against one of the wooden walls. A door swung open, creaking sadly, no doubt knowing why he was here. He patted its frame as he passed through, murmuring, “Thank you,” before stepping through, up a few staircases, and down a hallway and into a large bedroom.

His eyes were quick to adjust to the low-light. The sunset spilled softly through the large window facing the woodland beyond, the tips of the trees tinged gold just barely visible.

Most of the light fell onto the bed, headboard pressed firmly up against the wall, burnishing the blue comforters into a darker shade of indigo. Pillows propped the occupant up against the dark wooden frame, and though Apollo was nowhere near the only other person in the room, her sharp, yet tired, worn eyes still held that ever-present spark of power as they fell upon him.

“‘Bout time,” a wry smile twisted her lips. “And here I thought you’d be too busy for little old me.”

Apollo breathed a small, half-formed laugh out of his nose. “For you, Thalia? Never.”

Crossing towards the bed, he clasped her hand in between both of his. They were wrinkly and calloused from decades of a hard-won life, and despite how…frail Apollo knew they had become, Thalia’s grip was as steady as ever.

They were always steady. Even when everything changed. When allegiances shifted and betrayals ran rampant, Thalia’s hands never wavered— and neither did her resolve.

Even now, as she prepared to greet Thanatos for the final time, that familiar sight stubbornly persisted.

“Well aren’t I lucky,” Thalia shared a grin with the other occupants.

Leo Valdez’s smile caused one side of his lips to curl up, the tinge of sadness in his old eyes momentarily squashed by a bit of that reliable old humor.

“The luckiest, I say,” he playfully knocked his knuckles against Thalia’s. “I mean, look at the entourage you have here!” Leo gestured to himself, Apollo, and the other two women in the room— Georgie and Reyna.

Georgie, like Leo, had aged over the decades, but had managed to outgrow Leo without much effort— something Apollo knew she teased the older man relentlessly about, much to their mothers’ amusement.

Reyna, however, was still in possession of the immortality of the Hunt, and so was eternally eighteen. Physically she hadn’t aged, but the air she carried was heavy with every new battle and the weight of experience she now bore as one of the senior members of the Hunt.

They were the only ones sitting here with Thalia. There was no one else— bar one, but Apollo knew she was on her way— that needed to be summoned to the old Huntress’s deathbed.

Calypso and Lit no longer lived within the Waystation, but still remained in Indianapolis. The former goddess now ran a large and successful greenhouse, with an attached farm under Lit’s care. The old ‘Reaper of Men’ and Cornhusker had at long last returned to his roots in the fields, though thankfully with a lot less murdering this time.

That would be awkward to explain to the mortal authorities.

The Hunt themselves had already given their goodbyes a week or so back, but allowed Reyna to remain to watch over her old friend until Macaria came to call. Once Thalia passed, Apollo knew her funeral pyre would burn with the highest honors, under both Camp Half-Blood and the Hunt’s colors.

…It was a bit depressing, really. Despite all of the good Thalia had done in her long life— persevering through the tumultuous revolution, joining Emmie and Josephine at the Waystation, diving headfirst into finding demigods and guiding them safely to Camp Half-Blood— there were only five people left in this world whom she had shared a closer bond with.

Then again, Apollo reflected. Perhaps five is acceptable. Better than none.

And certainly better than the loneliness that Thalia had exuded following her leave from the Hunt. She had struggled tremendously with the weight of not only the rebellion, but also with the grief of her brother’s death, still stubbornly clinging to her consciousness.

A tap on the back of his hand made Apollo jump.

He was met with Thalia’s smirk. “Back with us, old man?”

Apollo snorted, then broke into a laugh that warmed him down to the ichor-y marrow of his bones. “Rich, coming from you, old lady.”

“Ah…” Thalia’s slightly smoky eyes widened, as if playing the part of a fortune-teller mystic, the wrinkles on her face creasing as she whispered; “But the point still stands— out of the two of us, you are the old man here.”

“Leo is literally right here.” Apollo deflected.

“Two, Apollo! Two!”

“Yeah man,” Leo’s grin split wider. “Don’t drag me into this— or should I say…?” He dramatically paused, making Georgie snicker. “Old man?”

“Call me old again, I dare you,” Apollo glared at him, but there was very little bite behind it. Apparently, when your friends got older and you, physically, remained the same age, said friends found it hilarious to bring you in on the old person jokes despite that inconsequential fact.

“Old.” Reyna now joined in on ‘pick on Apollo’ hour, leaning back against the headrest, arms crossed with her feet thrown off the side of the bed. “You’re old, Apollo. Admit it.”

Theatrically, Apollo crossed his own arms and raised an eyebrow at her, as if refusing to cave into her demands.

“Friends,” Thalia staged-whispered. “I think we’ve finally encountered the physical manifestation of the phrase– ‘unstoppable force, meet immovable object’. He’s not budging.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Georgie was now whispering, her and Leo huddled closer to Thalia and Reyna, as though if they kept their voices down, Apollo wouldn’t hear them.

“I am right here you know.”

They pretended to not hear him.

Who knew the elderly could be such children?

“Force has proven to be invalid,” Leo sagely nodded, no doubt digging into his reserves of Old Man Wisdom now that he was a member of that particular population. It vaguely reminded Apollo of Socrates during one of his lectures. “We must now rely on the art of persuasion.”

“Good luck with that,” Apollo drily said. “You are talking about a seasoned lawyer.”

“Every lawyer has a weakness!” Georgie waggled a finger at him. “And we shall discover yours!”

“Unlikely.”

“Even old man lawyers!”

“Again, Leo’s right there.”

“Mi amigo, I am not even a lawyer.”

“Well, in that case—”

“As funny as all this is,” a new voice loudly interjected. Apollo straightened, his lips briefly twitching up as he recognized who it came from. “I think we all get it— Apollo’s an old, old granddaddy, and is just too bull-headed to face up to it.”

“Lovely to see you too, Meg,” Apollo huffed, turning as he addressed the newcomer. “Nice to know you are on my side in this egregious plot of defamation.”

Meg smirked. “Have I ever been?” She innocently asked. Even with the way the area around her brightened in the imitation of an angel’s halo, there was no mistaking the devilry in her beady crow eyes as they twinkled behind her rhinestone-studded glasses.

Like Apollo, Meg was eternally young, and ever since her own ascension had taken it upon herself to safeguard the deserts of Southern California and heal the damage down to them. She fought a battle day after day with not only the mythical monsters of the world, but also the very mortal ones intent on destroying her precious patch of nature.

Apollo stressed over her well-being whenever bad news reached his ears concerning the deserts, but everytime he dropped by to visit, his worries were eased by Meg herself.

Little by little, they’ll make the world a better place. No matter how many baby steps they had to take first.

“What’s really funny,” Meg plopped herself down by Apollo, practically ramming her shoulder into his. “Is how you,” she pointed at Apollo, poking his arm with the finger for emphasis. “Act like their pitiful ages can compare to your own. At least my aging is timeless.” She stuck her nose into the air.

“You are practically as old as they are.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a hypocrite–!”

“Anyway!” Meg smiled brightly as she turned her attention away from Apollo (Rude!) and to Thalia. “Brought a present, since I missed your birthday last month.”

With the snap of her fingers, a clay pot appeared with a Christmas cactus, its red blooms on the peak of blossoming. Meg shimmied off the bed and placed the plant on Thalia’s side table. The old woman herself shifted, craning her neck slightly to get a good look at it, before smiling.

“Thanks Meg,” she held out a fist, and Meg finished the fist-bump. “It does brighten up the room a bit.”

Even with the sun now completely sunk below the horizon, Apollo knew she was right. The way the red of the cactus stood out in the darkness was almost a beacon by itself. With a flick of a finger, the small, harmless spikes on the green of the cactus gain faint, glowing lights on each end, much like the baubles one would find on a Christmas tree.

“Nice,” Thalia shot her a grin. “I feel so spoiled today.”

Georgie fussed with the blankets. “You deserve it,” she firmly stated. “And we do it because we love you.”

“She’s right,” Reyna agreed from where she sat. “There’s a lot we’d do for the people we love.”

Thalia’s eyes went misty. “I know that feeling well…” she softly said. Apollo detected the beginning of a reminiscence. “I’ve done a lot for those I love. Annabeth, Percy, even Luke…and Jason. Oh, the things I did for Jason…” A bittersweet smile pulled on her lips.

“I’ll be happy to see him again. It’s been long enough.”

Reyna squeezed her shoulder as Leo clasped his hand onto one of hers. Apollo slipped his onto the other, gently thumbing the back of her boney, veiny hand.

“Everyone else, too,” Thalia’s gaze unfocused. “There’s a lot of old friends who have come and gone that I’d like to see again.”

“Yeah,” Georgie wistfully sighed. “I do miss some of the old crowd, too.”

“Emmie and Jo were the best,” Leo murmured, propping his chin on his free hand. “I…have so much to thank them for. I don’t know what I’d have done without them.”

“They were wonderful women,” Reyna said, lips twisting into a small smile of her own. “The Hunt misses them too.”

“As do we,” Apollo added, mouth quirking when Meg laid her chin on his shoulder. “If there’s one thing I learned from not only them, but from everyone, it’s that it is in the nature of mortals to remember. And immortals…” he shared a knowing, conspiratorial look with Meg. “Well, it is in our nature too— just with the affidavit of carrying those memories with us forever.”

Leo clapped his hands together. “Well said.”

“Indeed.” Reyna softly smiled. “Indeed.”

The room fell into tranquility. The nighttime sky was now littered with stars. Apollo felt the steady beat of Meg’s heart against his back. Georgie had snuggled up to Leo, much like she had when they were younger, and threw an extra blanket over both of them. Reyna was looking at the cactus sitting on its table, limbs relaxed.

The red flowers had bloomed at last.

Apollo stopped absentmindedly stroking Thalia’s hand. He glanced down at it, brows crinkling as he failed to detect the usual, electrifying warmth from her skin. His fingers trailed to grasp her wrist, holding it for a few seconds, before gently releasing it.

Her eyes were closed. There was a faint smile on her face.

Thalia Grace had passed. Apollo held her hand one last time and squeezed.

A peaceful death indeed.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

You will be able to find this fic on my Ao3 sometime after this is published!

[hero-of-the-wolf]

I see them opossum Hyrule requests 👀

May I have him just kinda vibin with some fairy's? Maybe Time too if you want but mostly the fairy's :)

Have an captain crunch day/night :D

Hyrule leaned down to greedily sip at the water. He didn't have access to any of his items in this form and he was so thirsty; but worse than that, he couldn't tap into his own magic either. He was completely and utterly helpless.

That was not a feeling he was used to, not since he’d been given his first sword. As bad as things got, even when he brushed a little too close to death, he took great comfort in the knowledge that he could always fight back. He’d nearly forgotten what it’d even felt like, to be completely unable to do anything, until the first time his life spell had failed and he had been able to help his brother as his life faded before their very eyes. And now here he was again, trapped in an unfamiliar body through his own carelessness and completely and utterly alone. But he could still fight even without items or magic. He would fight, and he would save his brothers or he would die trying.

He froze at a sudden ringing sound, hunkering low to the ground and straining his ears to make out what it was. A light drifted into view, soaring gracefully overhead, and Hyrule immediately felt all of his tension melt away.

It was a fairy. He’d stumbled upon a fairy spring.

The fairy noticed him and, with a chime, came to rest on top of his head. He smiled to himself (as well as he could, anyways) as the warmth of her magic spread through him, easing the ever present chill running through his veins and soothing his tumultuous mind.

“Thank you, friend,” he whispered to her.

[marvelous-goose]

OC KISS WEEK 2025

Prompt: Desperate

Featuring my darling Emmy Thorne & Tanaleth Aldwir, who belongs to the lovely @orangeandclover !!!!

The Veil Jumpers had tracked down more Venatori hiding out in Arlathan, so Jasper and his team came to help get rid of them. They’re like cockroaches, Emmy thought. They’re everywhere—how do they get everywhere? She’d even fought them once or twice as a Warden, before joining her brother on his quest against Solas and the Evanuris. Cockroaches. They needed to be crushed.

She fought side-by-side with Tanaleth, an elven archer with the Veil Jumpers. The Venatori were fast, but Tanaleth was faster—and an excellent shot. And Emmy didn’t need to be fast, although she could be. She didn’t even need to avoid getting hit. She just needed to stay standing the longest. She bashed one Venatori in the head with the edge of her shield then whirled around to slash another across the chest. Tanaleth skipped across the battlefield in a blur of orange and violet, their long black hair flying behind them like a flag in the breeze, shooting down two more Venatori as they ran.

Emmy laughed—it was fun, fighting with Tanaleth. Her twin brother, Jasper, loved to dance, but Emmy was more interested in the kind of dance you can only do on a battlefield; in that, she and Tanaleth were partners made in heaven. A Venatori rogue crept up behind the elven archer, and Emmy hurled her shield at him, knocking him backwards before he could pounce. As the shield bounced off his body and flew back towards Emmy, Tanaleth shot her a playful grin.

Three more Venatori came out from behind the trees, and Emmy launched herself towards them, shield held out in front of her as she charged, while Tanaleth hung back and pelted them with arrows. The Venatori sickle-blades clashed against her shield and she batted them away. One down, two down—where did the third go? Emmy looked around wildly, then she felt an arrow whizz past her ear.

Thud. The third Venatori dropped to the ground just behind her, an arrow through his eye—and sticking out the back of his head.

She locked eyes with Tanaleth. The elf was breathing heavily, muscles still tense with adrenaline. Emmy sprinted to them, sheathing her sword and hooking her shield onto her back as she ran. When she reached Tanaleth, she dropped to her knees and pulled them down into a deep, frantic kiss. Tanaleth dropped their bow and took her face in their hands.

When the two parted, they were both gasping for air. “Thank you,” said Emmy with a wild grin.

“Anytime,” replied Tanaleth.

[readingismyhobby24]

Gift giving // “This made me think of you” with Legend and Hyrule maybe? 👀

- hero-of-the-wolf

HERE YOU GO!!!!!!!! FLUFFVEMBER PROMPT #1!!!!!!!

Thank you so much for the prompt Emmie!!!!

Here's the official Tumblr AO3 Link

Summary: Hyrule notices that Legend isn't acting like he normally is, so he decides to give him a gift that will hopefully lift his spirits.

@hero-of-the-wolf

[chrissybbbskr]

The DN gang on dating apps

Michael - basic. The dude with fish picture. Only uses tinder not hinge cause he only wants one thing 🙄

Rika - blonde bombshell tinder. pretty cheeky pictures. Gets a 1000 likes in one hour. She only uses it to make fun of guys😂

Kai - has a kind profile. He’s respectful and all his pictures are him in a suit/tux. His replies are always respectful to the point it’s almost boring.

Banks - “Tinder? *scoffs* no thank you I have more self respect than that”

Damon - thinks Tinder is pathetic but probably has a private one cause he secretly wants to match with Winter.

Winter - probably the cutest profile. All pink, smiles and pics of her dog. Shes very innocent and wants to actually go on dates but is confused when the guys don’t reciprocate cause they realized she’s actually looking for a relationship.

Will - the best tinder profile. Almost all pics are shirtless, him on the beach in Brazil, climbing up Mt. Fiji, on a boat in the Maldives. Has the quirkiest prompts as well as the quirkiest replies to other people’s prompts. His way of starting a convo is a cringey pick line which is so dumb but they always text back. Almost everyone comments on his eyes. He’s not ashamed of being on a dating app and constantly talks about who he’s going on a date with.

Emmy - hates tinder, thinks it beneath her but begrudgingly makes one cause she’s forced too (maybe by her college roommate’s or coworkers?). Most of her pics are faceless or mirror pics. She’s mean but it always gets all the guys going and she can’t understand why. She probably hides the app on her phone but sometimes when she’s lonely she starts swiping till she sees the guys on it and is like what a waste.

[gaymingbinosaur]

Hey! Unsure if you're taking asks for the Laidir prompts, but 7 or 15, if you want!

It's the prompt of giving a gift in celebration for victory and thanks for the ask. Writing this is fun, I've written emmrook before but that actually didn't need me to write emmrich so first time writing him

Evie has always been impatient. It was hard to not let her mind wander to worse case scenarios while waiting.  And waiting for Manfred to find Emmrich, made it impossible not to focus on all the ways she could embarrass herself.  How much time passed before Emmrich arrived in his room. Minutes? Hours? Days? It was impossible to tell. All Evie knew is the gift in her pocket turned to lead as soon as he entered the door. 

Evie leaned against the desk and posed in a way she hoped screamed nonchalance and not panic attack. “Emmy!” Evie squealed, Maker have mercy on her. It’s fine she thought as she sauntered over to Emmrich, hoping the sway of her hips distracted him from her shaking hands as she handed him his gift. “Did you think that you could sneak away without a memento after killing a dragon with two Lords of Fortune?  It makes it so much easier to brag about your accomplishments when you have something physical to show. Trust me.”

Emmrich sighed before letting out a soft laugh that made Evie’s stomach flip, “I must admit I was planning on practicing a bit of humility.” 

Evie gasped in mock horror, “Perish the thought Emmrich! See this is why you need me. If I wasn’t here, you would tell no one that you protected the Necropolis from an undead dragon. Then boom! No free drinks!” 

“A fate worse than death.” Emmrich nodded in agreement, though he couldn’t hide the grin from his face. Emmrich unwrapped the present and pulled out the golden necklace. Emmrich gasped as he held the necklace to the candlelight to get a better view of the skeleton charm hanging off its chain. “Evelyn this is gorgeous.” Manfred came over, Evie wondered if he was hiding, trying to figure out why she needed Emmrich anymore but couldn’t resist the mystery of the box. He started clapping and hissing happily, which Evie took as he approved of her gift. “Oh Manfred, it’s probably a coincidence. Evie found this in The Formless One’s lair.”

“Actually, I made it.  I took some gold from the lair and pulled some strings. A friend of mine agreed to help make the necklace, to make it more Mourn Watchey. If I agreed to let him teach me how to make a necklace.’ Evie said smugly. Like what’s a harm in bragging when he and Manfred both seem to like the necklace.  Just a small brag that made him have that face he makes when she flirts with him. One of utter surprise and delight, but then that delight turned smug. And Evie knew she overplayed her hand.

“So the emerald for eyes wasn’t a coincidence. It is modeled after Manfred.” 

Evie scoffed. “No, well maybe. I had to pick a gem for the eyes and thought you like skulls with green eyes. It’s no big deal.” 

“No big deal! Evelyn, the thought you put into this gift is remarkable! Especially considering the fact you could have just grabbed any old trinket for me to show off. I’m left wondering, why would you put so much effort in getting a gift for me.” Emmrich knew the damn answer. Evie is sure of it. And oh Maker’s tits she came on too strong. He’s being nice now, but if he figures out how pathetic she is for him. He’d have to laugh. It’s ridiculous how much this man has been haunting her. And it’s not fair, if he was anyone else she could easily seduce him without looking like an idiot. She may not have many talents but being sexy and charming was one of them. And this bastard is taking that away from her.

“Pssh, it’s nothing. I just. It was.” For fucks sakes she can’t salvage it.  There is no way to convince someone grabbing a random ring would take more effort than melting down gold to make a skull necklace.  

“Evelyn, why are you being so bashful? You know as a Lord that bashfulness doesn’t get you free drinks. This necklace is a marvel and I insist I take you out for drinks.” Emmrich placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at the much taller man’s face. “I insist that you allow me to arrange some wine for us later. And I must insist I hear what inspired every detail. We can’t have you turn into a modest Lord of Fortune.”

Evie felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest. But she can’t just pass out in front of Emmrich. So she decided to go back to being bold. “It’s a date.”

[sgiandubh]

Did you write something about Sam and Caitriona reunion in the promo for Season 7?

She was wearing an off-white jacket and a black dress

She looked kind of weird

They both seemed artificial and fake, pretending that they had finally met after an absence.

Dear Reunion Anon,

Sorry for the very belated response. I am surrounded by boxes and garbage bags, as you usually do when you move house. Not a pretty sight.

This is Season 7 premiere, at the BMCC Theatre (New York), June 9th, 2023:

You definitely meant Season 6 premiere, at the Wolf Theatre (Hollywood), March 9th, 2022:

I have not written anything about it yet, simply because I only go back in time when I think it's absolutely necessary. Or when prompted - as you just did.

She looked strange from a complete outsider's perspective. Hair is a mess, blazer is worn appallingly askew and yes, she looks tired - as all the mamas of babies look, on this planet. I have pictures of a very young Shipper Mom looking exactly like this, by the way: haphazardly dressed, hair in a mess and DGAF happy & exhausted.

Same with S and I do not see anything artificial here. I see two parents, half-heartedly trying to keep appearances and not being very good at it.

If you are looking for any other kind of speculation, I am afraid you knocked on the wrong door, Anon. I am going into minute details about something, only if I am certain, to the best of my abilities, that what I share publicly is legit. Since I have never been a mom and never will, this is the best I can give you.

Just consider the contrast between those two pics, though. What a difference a year makes, huh?

[Later edit]: thank you, @mariaae, for the slight correction on the 2022 event, labeled by Getty as a 'premiere'. It seems that was the For Your Consideration Emmy Panel and our friend even offered a youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rkKD8XW9ok

[lottiesnotebook]

Happy Friday! I'm prompting, “Back when love was underneath you with my fingers in the dirt”. My first thought with this song was Anders thinking of Rhiannon after she becomes famous in Merry Solstice. But do take it in whatever direction you like if something else comes to you.

Agh thank you so much for using one of my Emmy the Great prompts! She shows up on pretty much all my writing playlists so I thought it was time to give her her due and do a full lyrics prompt post for her. For those of you who haven't heard any of her songs, this one is a great one to start with, and works very well for these two in the Merry Solstice universe, in which Hawke is a popstar, Anders is an addict, and Justice is very bad at being his sponsor...

Anders/Rhiannon Hawke, post-breakup pining, smut, modern AU, human!Justice (but he isn't here right now)

@pinkfadespirit | @dadrunkwriting

back when love was underneath you with my fingers in the dirt

Anders had given up on forgetting Rhiannon Hawke long before he lost her. Time, he had known even then, would not dim the memory of her sunlit smile, her quick, callussed fingers, her siren’s voice that coiled low and sweet and smoky from her throat to fill their home with music. He does not regret the loss, exactly — she was always out of his reach, his time in her arms a rare period of stolen sunlight, and he would not trade what he has now with Justice to reclaim her — but all the same, she haunts the halls of his mind, preserved in amber like stolen sunlight. Sometimes, he wakes weeping from how clearly his mind can still recreate her, the brightness of her eyes, the softness of her curves, the teasing brush of her lips against his throat. Justice does not tease, does not torment — he gives Anders exactly what he deserves, what he feels he has earned, no more, no less. He is neither capricious nor cruel, and Rhiannon could be both, when the mood took her.

She is cruel now, but perhaps it is no more than he deserves. She looks down at him from every billboard, her face airbrushed to perfection, tear tracks painted in glitter along her cheeks, her eyes meeting his over her bare shoulder with familiar invitation, with familiar accusation. She looks down at him from the perspective of the Maker above, and perhaps it would be easier if he could limit the memory of her to that distant, sacred cruelty, but of course, he cannot. He cannot see her from such an angle without remembering a thousand mornings where she’d glanced over her shoulder, her face in the same shadow, her lips curled in that tempting, impossible, sunlit smile.

He cannot see her looking down at him like that without remembering a thousand moments where she’d leant above him like a saint, like a goddess, like Andraste herself, and sunk down upon him as he prayed for a mercy only she could provide. He knows he should not think of her like that now, knows it is not a sin for which he will be forgiven, and yet-

And yet his hands recall too well the softness of her hips, the stripes of silvery stretchmarks he’d trace lightly until she giggled and squirmed, her every movement reverberating through her body into his, as though they were a singular entity, as though no force in the world could split them apart. He recalls too well the curves of her breasts, how each could fill his hand to overflowing, how she’d shudder and arch her neck as he played with them, how sometimes she’d let him toy with her long enough to draw out sweet, breathy moans and wordless plays, till her cheeks burned pink and her pupils were blown wide with want.

Other times she’d pin his hands down and ride him without gentleness, without mercy, stilling only when she felt him coming close to the edge with keen, cruel precision. He could recall lying like that on the crumpled sheets of his bed, her bed, their bed, the grass in some sheltered copse of trees, a picnic blanket under a night sky where the stars fell into her dark hair and were swallowed up by her. He could still too easily feel the weight of her hands on his wrists, the exact points her calluses would dig, the way her weight would shift as she came closer to the edge, until she collapsed against his chest and let him spill inside her and hold her tight against him, inseperable, like she was the other half of his soul.

That had never been true, of course. She’d always been too good for him, too lovely, too bright. Every poster of her face reminds him of how far beyond his reach she is, has always been, but his mind and his memory are traitors to his will, and remind him again and again that there was a time when she moved above him like the will of a more merciful Maker than he has ever known. That before she was worshipped by crowds of adoring fans, she was worshipped by him alone, and even now, in exile, he remains a devotee.