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socialfakes · 5 months

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the devils in the details- luke hughes

chapter 1; part 2: hard launching

nhl players x platonic!fem!reader

eventual luke hughes x fem!reader

nico hischier x fem!reader

the masterlist

Liked by bboeser, nicohischier, _quinnhughes and 4,209 others

yourinstagram | the sands of time will never wash away the love that i have for you ❤

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user06 this isn’t luke and now i am very sad 😔

elblue6 love seeing you happy, my dear ❤

user08 the dark hair kinda looks like quinn 🤔 | user13 no! not her being with the wrong brother 😭 | yourinstagram it’s not the wrong brother. in fact it’s not any of the hughes brothers 🤷🏻‍♀️

jackhughes you posted a snowy cabin landscape last week and now you’re posting about the beach? where the hell are you? | yourinstagram right next to you, dumbass 😂 these pictures aren’t recent | jackhughes right. i should’ve known 🤦🏻‍♂️

_quinnhughes why does everyone think it’s me when you post someone with dark hair? 😂 | user01 honestly thought it was actually vince or jamie

colecaufield was not expecting this pairing at all but glad you’re happy. it's all i could’ve hoped for 😃 | yourinstagram love you beyond words, my sweet sweet cole 🥰

trevorzegras happy 😊

user07 this is such a cute soft launch. can't wait for the hard launch ❤

nicohischier my favorite couple 😊

lhughes_06 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen 😊❤ | yourinstagram ❤❤

Liked by nicohischier, lhughes_06, _quinnhughes and 6,427 others

yourinstagram | over a year together and he still sends this stuff ❤ ladies, find yourself a man like this and you’ll live the rest of your life extremely happy 😃👍🏻

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user13 this is so quinn 😲

user04 I’m dying to know who this is 🤔

jackhughes ❤

trevorzegras ❤

jamie.drysdale ❤

_quinnhughes ❤❤

nicohischier ❤

lhughes_06 ❤

colecaufield ❤

edwards.73 ❤

user15 love how all the boys just commented a heart as if it would throw us off 😂

user03 anyone else thinking it’s quinn because of the double hearts? or is it just me? | user07 guarantee it was to throw us off the trail even more

user06 I think I know who it is 😲 | user04 enlighten us 😃 | yourinstagram I love you guys and I promise you’ll know very soon 😊 if his team wins, we agreed to hard launch the relationship as a celebration 😊🥳

Liked by jamie.drysdale, trevorzegras, nicohischier and 1,715 others

yourinstagram | love you lovin’ me the right way ❤⛸ forever thankful to you for opening your heart up to me 😘 tagged: nicohischier

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lhughes_06 he better treat you how you deserve to be treated | yourinstagram of course he is. wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t know how to treat a lady 🥰 | lhughes_06 well i'm glad you’re happy ❤

user05 but this isn’t luke 🥺

_quinnhughes happy that you’re happy, munchkin 😊

trevorzegras well this was unexpected 👀

nicohischier ❤

jamie.drysdale and my ship sailed away 😉 | yourinstagram to the middle of the ocean 😊

user06 was holding out hope for you and luke but if nico makes you happy, then congrats 😊

edwards.73 thought you and luke were together when we were all at school. guess i was wrong 🤷🏻‍♀️

rutgermcgroarty i freaking knew it! especially when you called me at 2 am and told me once that you were crushing hard on nico 😂 | yourinstagram what?!?! that never happened 🤫 | rutgermcgroarty you may have been drunk 🤔

colecaufield so this is why you wouldn’t date me? 😏😂 | yourinstagram no 😊

jackhughes my two best friends?!? i’m not sure how to feel about this 🤔 | lhughes_06 as long as she’s happy, we should be too ☺ | yourinstagram thank you lukey ❤

user07 was hoping hard for y/nhughes but that ship is gone | yourinstagram sank before its maiden voyage 👍🏻

njdevils cap is happy!!!

taglist: @worldlxvlys @diorsluv

#fake social media #instagram au #hockey player social media #nhl #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jamie drysdale #jack hughes #trevor zegras #new jersey devils #hughes brothers #nj devils #friends to lovers #nico hischier

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acotar-taylorsversion · 3 months

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So for some reason I got lost in the Elucien side of tik tok and, of course, they are convinced they are endgame. They are the ones who think Elain avoids Lucien because she’s trying to suppress her attraction to him and what not, but I just think that’s silly. Even though I agree with them about how we don’t know what’s going on in her head, I just find that theory ridiculous, especially when you look at the overall text that surrounds Elain and Lucien.

I am an Elriel supporter and have been since 2017, but I always have that “what if” in the back of my mind because we all know Sarah can just completely forget about what she’s written and do something totally different. My biggest fear is that I won’t ever accept Lucien. Like, I only really support him when I read those tiny moments when he’s talking about or with Vassa, because I can see that. But I’m scared I won’t ever accept Lucien or Elucien because of what we know.

I’ve never truly connected with Lucien. I always saw him as the annoying one. I never could understand why everyone finds him attractive or charming. I moved on quickly when we learned about his history, it didn’t really affect me. He’s just annoying to me. And I know he’s not a bad guy, like I don’t hate him. I just don’t care for him. I literally forgot all about his character in acomaf until he showed up again to kidnap Feyre, and I was totally dumbfounded when he said Elain was his mate. It was the most random thing to me. I remember reading that part 3 times because I thought I was crazy. And I was so so happy when he volunteered to go search for Vassa because that meant he was going to be gone for a while in acowar, and then I forgot about him again unless he was brought up. He’s just a very forgettable character to me and it’s going to take a lot for my opinion to change. Like I honestly hate that someone like Elain got mated to someone like him. It’s the most random thing.

Like 3 brothers x 3 sisters just makes so much sense to me and it’s so perfectly even and symmetrical. 2 brothers x 2 sisters, 1 sister x random guy, 1 brother x random girl just doesn’t make sense at all.

I don’t think I could enjoy the series anymore if Sarah has planned for Elucien and gwynriel all this time because why spend all that time building up Elriel? And I’m sorry, but people who say that they didn’t see Elriel moments as romantic clearly didn’t read them. I know we interpret things differently, but y’all are just delusional if you can’t see that.

I’ll go ahead and say it. The main reason I support vassien is because it gives Lucien a happy ending while elain is free to love who she wants and not who she is told to by the cauldron or whatever. I hate that she is being forced to make a decision that she should never have to make. And it’s not like we don’t have a reason to support vassien, there are some cute little moments between Vassa and Lucien. But even, with a vassien pov, I don’t think I would enjoy Lucien’s part. Another thing, I could totally see him dying. I’ve always thought he would seeing how he was becoming feyre’s friend and what not. That usually happens to that type of character in fantasy stories.

Who knows, though 🤷🏻‍♀️. I’m just over all these things with the fandom here lately. From the doxx threats, forcing artists to quit creating art for us because of the hate they receive, the teasing from Bloomsbury, and this stupid ship war, I’m just mentally exhausted from it.

Sorry for the rant, guys. I’ll be more positive next time, hopefully lol 😆

Hope everyone is doing good after all that’s happened ♥️

#acotar #elain archeron #elriel #pro elriel #anti el*cien #anti e/lucien #sarah j maas #just some late night thoughts #i hope it gets better #i’m not gonna lie #I’ll be heartbroken if Elriel doesn’t happen #it’s hard for me to like Lucien #i just don’t see it #I’d rather read an entire novel about Eris before Lucien and I don’t like Eris #at least Eris is interesting though #I think he’s kinda like Rhys and hides his true self from everyone a lot

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giac222 · 2 months

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Came across this YouTube video last night.. *long heavy sigh*

*cue Amy Winehouse voice* What kind of fuckery is this? 🎶. … lol

Of course I had to make a post about it lmao. Back on my bs, time for another long post. (Just a heads up). Sorry if I repeat some things that I’ve mentioned in previous posts already, I just feel like they make sense to bring up here.

I should have known from the thumbnail alone that this video would pmo 💀. I was going to attempt to watch it considering it’s only around 8 minutes, I didn’t make it very far though 😂… The creator said “This is where I present the tale of a young man with anti-social personality disorder who was transformed into a serial killer due to the parasitic influence his abuser had on him.” that line alone made me click off I’m not kidding.

“The Psychology Behind Andrew Graves” and it’s just loud and wrong 🤦🏻‍♀️. I’m majoring in psychology and am in the process of getting my bachelors degree, yet I still won’t diagnose either him or Ashley. I just don’t feel comfortable doing that. People are entitled to their opinions though. 🤷🏻‍♀️. I think some people look at mental health issues through a black and white lens. Mental health is complex, a person’s well-being is determined by more than one thing, it’s a combination of psychological, biological, and social factors.

So diagnosing Ashley or Andrew isn’t what I’m getting into here. More so the comment about Andrew being turned into a serial killer due to the “parasitic influence his abuser had on him”. Of course I’ll be talking about some other things too.

First of all, Andrew isn’t a damn serial killer. I guess you could maybe consider him one under the guise of “he committed 3 killings”, but that doesn’t hold much weight to me in this instance. When he “killed” the cultist before eating him with Ashley, Andrew had no idea he was still alive. The demon basically killed him already, the guy was brain dead. (So tbh, I don’t really consider that a murder). In episode two where they sacrifice their parents to the demon, after finding out that their parents were technically still alive and coming to the realization that the cultist was too, he wasn’t too thrilled.

Next, Andrew killed the warden because he was going to hurt Ashley, he did it to protect her. The lady in 302 was wronged, I don’t think anyone is denying that. In his dream it’s justified though, he says Ashley would have wanted to kill her anyway and because of “no witnesses”. I’ve said before that he killed her for Ashley more than anything, he did it to make her happy. That’s why he got so pissed off when she started accusing him of attempting to sleep with her, which led things to escalate because Ashley kept going. Her dying did make Ashley happy though 🤷🏻‍♀️. The only reason Ashley wanted to shoot that lady was because Andrew called her pretty, that’s it. With no witnesses, even though it’s wrong, it makes sense in their situation. Lastly we have the hitman, obviously they had to intervene because the hitman was hired to kill them first. What do you think would have happened to them if Andrew didn’t take out the warden or the hitman? There isn’t an excuse for the murder of the lady in 302, but had she stayed alive, she probably would have snitched on them 😬.

Andrew’s morals are skewed, he doesn’t really give a shit, he cares more about what would happen if they got caught. Still, it’s not like he goes out of his way to kill people or necessarily wants to. Serial killers get off on the power and control it gives them, they get psychological satisfaction from it. I can’t say that’s the case with Andrew. With the warden he said he had no regrets, but that’s because he used to leer at Ashley and would have harmed her if he didn’t step in. The only regret he had was not killing him slower, the reason? Because the warden fucked with his Ashley 🤭. He doesn’t play around when it comes to her. I just know that when the warden would leer at Ashley, Andrew’s jealous streak kicked in QUICK. Probably gave him the most intense death stare ever.

Again, based on the thumbnail and what I mentioned hearing before clicking off of the video, I can only assume most of the video is about how Ashley is the big bad manipulative villain that ruined Andrew’s life, and that every excuse under the sun is dropped for Andrew’s actions and behavior. It’s always the woman’s fault guys, haven’t you heard??…. 🙄🙄.

Honestly, whenever Andrew tells Ashley something like “get your head checked”, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you.” or “get help”. It’s literally just him projecting. I’ve never seen someone in denial so bad 😂. His repression is crazy.

There was a really good comment left under the video which I will include:

Exactly 💯👏🏻

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Ashley manipulates, or at least attempts to, but she isn’t good at it. During her and Andrew’s explosive fight in apartment 302, when he’s threatening to kill her, she brings up how she’s the only person who can make his nightmares go away, Andrew responds with “there’s sleeping pills for that”. Then she goes “yeah okay I got nothing”… 😭. Girl didn’t even try lmao. But she says she wants to leave with him, because duh? She loves him and wants to stick beside him. Not to mention that in episode two we find out that he doesn’t actually have that many nightmares, he uses it as an excuse to sleep next to Ashley and be close to her.

The game shows us that Andrew’s far more violent than Ashley is. Ashley got physical first in apartment 302, which of course she shouldn’t have done that, but Andrew almost killed her by choking her, and when he finally let go, we see that she literally had a bruise on her neck because of how hard he did it. I can’t see her ever doing something like that to him. Andrew will just casually threaten violence too, even if it’s just a a joke. What’s wild is the story about the lady attacking him with the nail gun. He said nothing in his dream about self defense. The nail gun was literally in the same spot as before when Ashley left, and the lady was deceased on her bed, she didn’t move an inch. Andrew most likely killed her right after Ashley left. (RIP 302 lady, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time 😩). Of course they over look that though 🤦🏻‍♀️, and the fact that Andrew is a very good liar.

When they were children, before their blood oath Andrew literally contemplates if killing Ashley would be worth it. Even after they found out that Nina died, he didn’t really seem to care, he was just worried about what would happen if people found out they killed her (on accident, they shouldn’t have locked her in there period, but kids don’t think of that stuff. They genuinely weren’t trying to kill her, they talked about letting her out in the Morning). Also, him grabbing Ashley and yelling about how guys and girls don’t go to the same prison. He said “They’re going to take YOU away from ME.”… So yeah, Andrew has always been the way he is, he just knows how to mask it. Ashley did not make him that way.

When Andrew’s mask starts to slip off, even Ashley is a little scared because she’s not used to seeing him that way, she thinks he’s changing, but really his true colors are just now coming out. That’s why the decay route is so sinister, it’s like Andrew becomes one with the mask. You could say his mask is still slipping, just in the worst way possible. I plan on making a post dedicated to the decay route sometime soon, there’s a lot to discuss there.

I made a post dedicated to Ashley and what she’s gone through not too long ago, so I’m going to try my best not to sound like a broken record here. However, it ties into this post so I’ll talk about it a little bit. Ashley is one of the most misunderstood characters I’ve ever seen, I’m so serious. I can’t help but get frustrated when people attempt to paint her as this evil bitch who was born that way, they completely ignore everything she has gone through and what she struggles with. Mind you, the game literally puts it right in front of your face, so idk how people miss the point 🤦🏻‍♀️. I think they just see what they want to see. Ashley literally hates herself and has had low self esteem since she was a little girl. She genuinely believes that she’s evil and that no one could ever truly love her. She’s 20 when the game currently takes place, do you know how debilitating it must be to deal with something like that for years?? From childhood all the way up into adulthood, that’s so heartbreaking. It’s basically embedded in her at this point 🥲. So yes, it makes me mad when people overlook that despite the game showing you how hard it is for her.

They act like she treats people as disposable just because, it’s like no, actually she’s able to do that because that’s how everyone except for Andrew always treated her. That’s literally why she clings to Andrew the way she does and goes to extreme measures to make him stay (even though she doesn’t need to, but she doesn’t know that) because he’s the only person who has shown her love/she could depend on. So yeah, no shit she’s scared of him leaving. People saying that Andrew needs to kill her so he can live his life do not seem to understand the fact that Andrew actually likes Ashley being dependent on him, he doesn’t want her to become independent. Let’s not forget that when Andrew went to snoop on the cultist, despite being away from Ashley for like 20-30 minutes at most? We see a text box that says “Now that you’ve got your answers, you miss Ashley.” Do y’all really think he’d want to live without her? Please be serious 🤭.

How people don’t get this yet I have no idea, but one can’t live without the other, period. Nor would they want to. They’re the love of each others lives 🩷💚. They only have each other. Why do you think they look the happiest in episode 2 at the end of the questionable burial route?? Ashley trusted him, and Andrew said no to the bs olive branch their mother attempted to use. People who say that questionable burial is the bad ending are in denial so bad.

Please, the flowers around his head in the first pic, he was so happy 😭. The way he’s holding her head in the 2nd pic is so sweet 🥺. He loves her so much, those people can stay in denial though lmao. The new and improved Mr. and Mrs.Graves incoming 😉.

To sum it up, It’s exhausting seeing so many people completely miss the mark on everything about TCOAAL, especially when it comes to Ashley. They have 0 empathy for her despite everything going wrong in her life since she was little, but overlook all the suspicious things about Andrew.

When episode 3 comes out and Andrew’s mask fully comes off. those fans are going to be like “WHatTttTt???? How could this be?”… like the signs were always there actually, you just had to pay attention. If people still think Andrew should be with Julia after the episode 3 preview video… then idk what to tell them. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I just feel like TCOAAL has been so misconstrued that I don’t even know where to begin, from the characters to what the game is actually about. I mean we got people watering it down to an incest fetish porn game (both haters and certain “fans” do this btw) - (no shade to the porn games out there lmao), but it just isn’t, like at all?? I never understood that because there is nothing overly sexual or explicit in the game. Yes, there’s the questionable vision, but we don’t see anything? We just know they slept together. I think some of these people are expecting a long explicit sex scene in episode 3, I don’t see that happening though, and tbh why would we? That isn’t what the game is about 💀.

I was on the TCOAAL Steam Community page a few days ago, and I saw this YouTube video someone posted on there. I think the video was titled “TCOAAL made me wish I had a sister”, and the thumbnail was a collage of like r34 pictures of Ashley, so basically none of her in the actual game. Fanon Ashley is like a completely different entity at this point lmao. Sorry, but I died of cringe. I’m like this is exactly why people side eye the fanbase 🤦🏻‍♀️.

I’ll never forget this one video an Ashley “fan” made, it was so bad y’all I’m surprised I still had braincells afterwards, if I could go back in time and tell myself not to watch it I would lmfao. There was a point where he flipped off the camera and said “fuck you Nemlei”, literally what an immature asshole 🙄. He did that because she made a piece of bonus artwork of Ashley lighting Andrew’s cigarette for him. I’m sure you guys will know which image I mean. I’m like well, if it weren’t for Nemlei you wouldn’t have this character that you’re so obsessed with, so now what? 😂. If you’re genuinely angry that the creator made bonus art of Ashley and her CANON love interest because you have a crush on her, I suggest going outside and touching grass. Praying that video was satire 🤦🏻‍♀️. Soooo embarrassing though, satire or not. Actually, I included a comment from under that video in my Ashley Graves defense post (linked above) and dissected it because of how incredibly stupid it was.

Mind you, the creator of that video at one point said “I’d do things to Ashley that would make feminists cry!” 🤪🤪. Whatever that stupid ass statement means. So let me guess? (trigger warning just to be safe ⚠️) you’re basically referring to rape? Color me shocked 😑. Keep this idiot away from girls in real life please because yikes 😬. He said that, yet in the comment section he said the incest in the game made him uncomfortable, like be so fr…. dumb ass 🙄.. LOL.

Look, I try to be civil, but these people make it hard sometimes lmao. I can’t stand wannabe edge lords, they’re some of the most annoying people on the planet. They need their own separate internet tbh.

Anywayyy, to wrap this post up because it’s long af. Ashley and Andrew are both flawed individuals, and they both have unchecked mental health issues, which isn’t even their fault btw. Sorry, but you can’t tell me those two are the biggest villains in the story considering the society they live in is totally dystopian + they were left to starve and die in their apartment because of their own parents selling them to organ harvesters. They quite literally would have died if they didn’t do what they did to escape.

Their parents failed them both, and the fact that they formed a codependent relationship as children isn’t their fault either. It’s honestly incredibly sad more than anything. I’d say that’s why I have empathy for them both as characters, they were both dealt a bad hand in life, and I don’t think either of them have been genuinely happy before really. They’re the happiest when they’re together, and as we’ve seen from the burial route, their relationship absolutely can improve. So yes, I want them to have their happy ending so bad 🥲. Especially Ashley, considering she’s got it the worst out of the two. People try to paint Ashley and Andrew + their situation as black and white, but it just doesn’t work. If you’re taking characters in a psychological horror game at face value then you’re just missing the point.

I feel like I need to hop on YouTube and create a video about TCOAAL to rebuttal all the messy takes about it on that platform 😫.

As usual, thank you for reading 😘. It makes me happy to know others enjoy what I post ❤️. Thank you for loving the game and these characters as much as I do. :’)

#here we go again lol #tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #andy graves #ashley graves #leyley graves #nemlei #gravecest #coffincest #ashley graves’s defense attorney #longer post #long post

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theragethatisdesire · 11 months

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Ideas!

Bff Eren #10

Because there’s gotta be more Eren/Jean discourse before Jean comes to terms with the fact that he’s not getting his ex back. Eren being a smug ass mother fcker about it, too.

Roommate Jean (well, poly boyfriend Jean). “You look pretty like that” prompt.

Maybe reader is handcuffed to a chair or in a bed? She’s an absolute mess because she’s dying to be touched and neither of her boyfriends will indulge her. They’re not sure if they even want to considering how pretty she looks all desperate and restrained. They’ll stroke themselves so close to her mouth, let her think she’ll get a taste. She stains her neck in hopes of getting a lick but they stay ever so slightly out of reach. 🤷🏻‍♀️

If I keep writing, I’m gonna end up sending a damn drabble to your ask box. 🤣

HIIIII kjt<333 omg.....this is like...such a difficult choice. honest to god i may pocket your first idea for something.....longer than a drabble ;) so i'm gonna go with the second one bc i am OBSESSED with poly erejean like genuinely. obsessed. might have a part 2 coming for them too solely bc i love them<3

throwing all nsfw under the cut like always

"Not too tight, is it, baby?" Jean tugs the ropes digging into your skin into what has to be the final knot after nearly twenty minutes of positioning, repositioning, and admittedly, a rope burn around your ankle.

"Mm-mmm," you try to assure him around the gag in your mouth, shaking your head no. Jean smiles, places a laughably chaste kiss on your forehead.

"Such a good girl for us, aren't you? He's going to love it."

The ropes were Jean's idea; ever since he'd joined your relationship with Eren, almost everything was Jean's idea, having come so far from the timid, reluctant lover you'd made of him a few months ago. These days, Jean's nearly bouncing out of bed in the morning with a new idea to bring to the bedroom, and neither you nor Eren have the wherewithal to complain about it.

Eren's had a rough few weeks at work, and over coffee this morning, Jean had talked you into a "surprise" for your mutual boyfriend. This surprise had involved a trip to a sex shop, a hardware store, and an hour-long Youtube tutorial on knot-tying, but you'd figured it out together, and it's paid off.

Jean's got your arms above your head, secured to either side of the headboard, and your legs spread wide enough to incite a slight ache in your hips, ankles tied to your thighs and putting your already-dripping cunt on display. A black lace gag is holding your voice back behind your teeth, and the collar Eren and Jean had surprised you with last weekend jingles around your neck when you wiggle experimentally, testing the bonds that Jean's wrapped you up in.

"Can't get out, can you?"

"Mm-mm," you affirm, tugging on the ropes at your wrists to prove your point. Jean grins again, wicked and dark.

"Eren's not the only one getting a surprise today," he muses, knocking around in the nightstand drawer on your side of his bed.

What he pulls out makes your eyes widen.

"I didn't tell you, but I left a little pocket riiight..." Jean trails off, working the vibrator under a little slip in the rope, "here."

He angles it perfectly against your clit, not yet turning it on, but watching your reaction lecherously. You're already running hot with your movements restrained, already starting to feel the hum of lust buzzing through your body.

Before Jean can make another move, you meet eyes meaningfully at the sound of the front door opening, Eren's voice calling out into the empty apartment.

"You guys home?"

"Be right back, don't move." Jean snickers at his own joke, leaving you there bare and unattended.

Unable to move, your other senses hone in on every little bit of stimulus around you. The muffled sounds of conversation between Eren and Jean outside; you can hear Eren's disgruntled grumble, Jean's soothing timbre, but not what they're saying. The annoying, understimulating nudge of the vibrator against your center. The texture of the lace gag against your tongue, the way it's making you drool ever so slightly. And then the door clicks open.

"Fuck..." Eren trails off, eyes going wide. If you look close enough, you can see the front of his pants already beginning to tent. You're not sure what to do, so on display; you can't smile through the gag, can't even move in greeting, really. Jean's turned you into their little fuckdoll in the most literal sense of the word. Jean smirks proudly.

"Isn't she so-"

"So pretty," Eren breathes out, rounding the bed to caress your cheek, brush a thumb over your nipple, "you look so pretty like this, baby."

Jean comes behind Eren, wrapping muscled arms around his waist, palming slightly at the erection forming behind Eren's zipper. "She's all yours, we both are. Whatever you want tonight."

"Whatever I want, huh?" Eren's eyes darken. He turns his head over his shoulder to Jean, catching the other man's mouth in a slow, languid kiss. Watching them pulls a whimper from you, muffled by the gag, but insistent.

Jean breaks the kiss to frown down at you, reach over and flick the vibrator on, ripping a tinny whine out of your throat.

"Behave yourself, you're supposed to be his little surprise, remember?"

Eren smirks down at you through hooded eyes, lets one lazy hand drag soothingly up Jean's neck, lets the other come down to tweak your nipple roughly. "Let her act up a little. Can't punish her if she's not being a brat, right?"

#THESE WERE SUCH GOOD PROMPTS #i hope i did it justice #kjt.moot #ragehits1000 #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #this was so tasty i smell a part two in the future #i can't write poly erejean and just LEAVE it there

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qiyusprincess · 4 months

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Bloom Like Flowers

Summary: In the final battle against Astra, you win, but at what cost?

Word count: 950

Pairing: Rafayel x OC, mentioned Xavier and Zayne 🤷🏻‍♀️

Author’s note: here’s my brain rot for Rafayel while listening to Guardian of the Memory by Honor of Kings (literally our song with Rafayel if you guys haven’t listened to it please do)

WARNINGS: character death, blood, fighting

Manami crosses her arms above her head as Astra’s sword comes lunging towards her. Her heart pounds in her chest as she waits for the pain, hears Zayne and Xavier call out for her to move! but Astra is faster. Astra is a god and Manami’s a mere mortal, failing to protect her loved ones again and again.

She hears a grunt, eyes opening when the light dims just slightly as a shadow covers her. Her heart stops beating as she watches blood bloom through a white shirt, reminiscent of those flame lilies that he loves so much.

Rafayel turns to smile at her, blood spilling out the corner of his lips as Astra pulls their sword from the God of the Sea’s body.

“Foolish,” Astra yells with a laugh as Rafayel drops backward into Manami’s arms. They raise their sword once more only to come down against Xavier’s own light sword.

Manami isn’t paying attention anymore though, tears running down her face as she presses her hands into Rafayel’s wound, trying to stop the bleeding. She feels numb despite it, can’t process the fact that Rafayel is dying in her arms. Again.

“Rafayel,” she shouts, her heart breaking into millions and millions of pieces. “Why did you do that? How could you do that?”

Rafayel just laughs, fingers coming up to cup her cheek gently. His hand is still warm, brushing away the tears that slip down her cheeks.

“How could I not? I couldn’t live in a world where I watched you die,” he breathes out.

She can feel his heartbeat fading beneath her finger tips, his blood spilling warm into the cracks of her hands.

“And I can’t live in a world with you,” she gasps, pressing her cheek into his hand, desperate to keep him here with her. To keep him alive. She glances around, looking for Zayne. Maybe he can do something, anything, but he’s too busy assisting Xavier, fighting the God that continues to torture them all.

“Zayne,” she cries out. Just one second. She needs him for just one second but Zayne can only glance at her, an apology in his eyes that he still can’t do anything for her.

“Don’t call for another man when I’m in your arms,” Rafayel jokes, thumb slowly stroking her cheek. She glances back down at him, angry that he has the audacity to feign jealousy right now, angry that he’s put his life on the line for her.

“Is this the time to joke,” she begs and Rafayel laughs again, wincing as the pain in his chest begs him to do something. Blood spills past his lips as he chokes, body keeling forward and Manami holds him tighter, presses her forehead against his as he’s done to her so many times before.

“Rafayel please,” she whispers, but his body is going colder in her grasp. His life force is disappearing and she can’t even do anything about it.

“I love you,” Rafayel whispers through a mouth full of blood. He has to let her know, to say it again so she hears, so that she remembers. He loves her. He would never stop loving her.

“I love you too,” she tells him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She feels his hand drop then, a chill running down her spine before she sets him gently down, fingers brushing his eyes closed.

When Manami stands up Astra turns to her, giving Xavier and Zayne just a moment to rest, a moment to breathe. Something Astra hadn’t allowed for Rafayel. She stretches out a hand and her wand appears in her hand out of thin air.

“Did I kill that God of the Sea,” Astra asks with a soft laugh. “I’ll have to apologize. My original target was you.”

Manami closes her eyes, steadying her breath for just a moment and when she opens them once more, her gaze is clear, devoid of emotion.

“Don’t worry,” she says softly. “I’ll send you his way so you can apologize in person.”

Astra’s body disperses into thin air the same way wanderers do. A blue light shines in the middle of Astra’s body and then, like a firework, it explodes, throwing all three of them back before the sparks fade into nothing.

Manami’s eyes turn to look towards where she’d last left Rafayel. She doesn’t need to look for Xavier and Zayne. They’re fine. She’d seen it for herself when they’d managed to steady themselves against Astra’s death.

When she looks though, his body is fading and she feels her throat closing up as she begins to choke on sobs. They’d won. She’d killed Astra but the gods still refused to reward her, could not even leave her lover’s body as she watched it also fade into sparkling blue flakes and return to the sea.

“Please,” she cries, crawling towards Rafayel’s body as it disappears. “Let me keep him. Let me have this much.”

An arm wraps around her waist from behind stopping her from moving forward and she struggles as Zayne holds onto her.

“Manami,” he whispers, voice pained. “He’ll return to the sea for the reincarnation cycle to start again.”

Manami shakes her head, trying to push herself out of his grasp. “No, no, no! Screw the reincarnation cycle! It’ll take forever! I need him here now!”

She watches with tears in her eyes as Rafayel fades but before he can fade completely Xavier covers her eyes, pressing his chin to the top of her head.

“Don’t watch,” he says softly. “He wouldn’t want you to remember him like that.”

Manami breaks down like that, in the arms of her two dearest friends, without her lover at her side.

#rafayel #qi yu #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #love and deepspace #lads rafayel #Zayne x mc x Xavier x rafayel if you squint #as far as I’m concerned THEYRE ALL together #will I be writing more of this? maybe hahahahahah #also I can not make this as pretty as all the other tumblr writers I am on my phone mam lol #cross posted to ao3 same username

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queer-geordie-nerd · 1 year

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I talk about Mira a lot, and I’m doing so again 🤷🏻‍♀️

She was a beautiful woman, and a powerful and talented actor and writer, no doubt, but much more importantly, I feel, she was also a woman of vast and deep integrity - she fought against injustice and nationalism/racism all of her life and her principled and public stance against the war and ethnic divisions in Yugoslavia cost her dearly and yet, it was a position she never ever moved away from and believed in profoundly. It is very easy to have principles when they are not being tested, and another thing entirely to stake your very life on those principles.

Even when her stance cost her her home, her career, and her friendships, and the enormous amount of threats against her life forced her to leave her country, she never once backed down from her belief in unity and cooperation.

The anti war essay she wrote and published as she fled is still one of the most powerful pieces of writing I’ve ever read and I am going to post it here in its entirety because it is fierce and amazing:

Letter to my co-citizens

I hereby wish to thank my co-citizens who have joined so unreservedly in this small, marginal, and apparently not particularly significant campaign against me. Although marginal, it will change and mark my whole life. Which is, of course, totally irrelevant in the context of the death, destruction, devastation, and blood-chilling crimes within which our life now goes on.

This is happening, however, to the one and only life I have. It seems that I’ve been chosen for some reason to be the filthy rag everyone uses to wipe the mud off their shoes. I am far too desperate to embark on a series of public polemics in the papers. I do, however, feel that I owe myself and my city at least a few words. Like at the end of some clumsy, painful love story, when you keep wanting, wrongly, to explain something more, even though you know at the bottom of your heart that words are wasted; there is no one left to hear them. It is over.

Listening to my answering machine, to the incredible quantities of indescribably disgusting messages from my co-citizens, I longed to hear at least one message from a friend. Or not even a friend, a mere acquaintance, a colleague. But there was none. Not a single familiar voice, not a single friend. Nevertheless, I am grateful to them, to those noble patriots who kindly promise me a “massacre the Serbian way”; and to those colleagues, friends, and acquaintances who, by remaining silent, are letting me know that I cannot count on them any more.

I am grateful also to all my colleagues in the theatre with whom I played Drzic, Moliere, Turgenev, and Shaw, I am grateful to them for their silence, I am grateful to them for not even trying to understand, let alone attempting to vindicate, my statement concerning my appearance at the BITEF Festival in Belgrade, the statement in which I tried to explain that taking part in that production at that moment was for me a defense of our profession which must not and cannot put itself in the service of any political or national ideas, which must not and cannot be bound by political or national limits because it is simply against its nature, which must, even at the worst of times, establish bridges and ties. In its very essence it is a vocation which knows no boundaries.

I know that all this talk about the cosmopolitanism of art seems inappropriate at a moment like this. I know that it may seem out of place to swear to pacifism, to swear to love and to the brotherhood of all peoples while people are dying, while children are dying, while young men are returning home crippled and mangled forever.

How can I say anything which won’t sound like an ill-fitted nonsense at the moment when, for absolutely unfathomable reasons, Dubrovnik is being threatened, the city where I played my favorite role, Gloria?

But I have no other way of thinking. I cannot accept war as the only solution, I cannot force myself to hate, I cannot believe that weapons, killing, revenge, hatred, that such an accumulation of evil will ever solve anything. Each individual who personally accepts the war is in fact an accessory to the crime; must he not then take a part of the guilt for the war, a part of the responsibility?

In any case, I think, I know and I feel that it is my duty, the duty of our profession, to build bridges. To never give up on cooperation and community. Not the national community. The professional community.

The human community. And even when things are at their very worst, as they are now, we must insist to our last breath on building and sustaining bonds between people. This is how we pledge to the future.

And one day it will come. For my part, until recently I was willing to endure all manner of problems in transportation, communication, and finances to trek the 20 hours across Austria and Hungary between Zagreb and Belgrade. I was willing to use risky, even dangerous modes of travel, just to keep holding my performances in the two warring cities, to appear at precisely 7:30 on stage with my Zagreb or Belgrade colleagues and to alternate Corneille and Turgenev for the sake of professional continuity, for the sake of something that would outlive this war and this hatred which is so foreign to me. Time and time again I was willing to make my life a symbol of a pledge to the future which must be waiting for us, until that day when some ardent patriot finally does slaughter me as so many have promised to do.

I was willing and I would still be willing to undertake all and any efforts, if the hatred hadn’t suddenly overwhelmed me with its horrendous ferocity, hatred welling from the city I was born in. I am appalled by the force and magnitude of that hatred, by its perfect unanimity, by the fact that there was absolutely nobody who could see my gesture as my defense of the integrity of the profession, as my attempt to defend at least one excellent theatre performance. I had no intention of acting further in performances outside the BITEF Festival, as I stated in my letter. BITEF as an international theatre event attended by the English, Russians, French, Belgians, and even one Slovene seemed to me worth participating in, especially because any decision not to participate would have meant betraying a performance I had worked on under the most difficult circumstances during the March 9th Belgrade tanks, daily threats of a military coup, etc., etc.

It is terribly sad when one is forced to justification without having done anything wrong. There is nothing but despair, nausea, and horror.

I no longer have any decisions to make. Others have decided for me.

They have decided I must shut up, give up, vanish; they have abolished my right to do my job the way I feel it should be done, they have abolished my right to come home to my own city, they have abolished my right to return to my theatre and act in my performances. Someone decided that I should be fired from my job. Thank you, Croatian National Theatre; thank you, my colleague Dragan Milivojevic, who signed my dismissal slip. I know that lots of people are losing jobs, that I am just one of many, simply part of a surplus work force. I constantly ask myself whether I have any right, at this moment of communal horror, to make any demands of my own. One thing seems certain: I plan for quite some time (how long?) not to perform on any stage in this crumbling, mangled land. Perhaps they needn’t have hurried so in firing me. Perhaps this would have simply taken care of itself. With more decency. And dignity. Not so crudely. Of course, this is not a moment for tenderness. But won’t someone out there have to be ashamed of this? And will this someone necessarily be me, as my fellow actors try to convince me in their orthodox interviews? Can the horror of war be used as a justification for every single nasty bit of filth we commit against our fellow man? Are we allowed to remain silent in the face of injustice done to a friend or a colleague and justify our silence by the importance of the great bright national objective? I ask my friends in Zagreb, who are now silent, while at the same time they condemn Belgrade for its silence.

It is hard to write without bitterness. I would like to be able to do that, because we should “Love Our Enemy.” I wish we all could. Herein perhaps lies the solution for all of us. But I fear that we are very far from the ways of the Lord. His is the way of love. Not hatred.

To whom am I addressing this letter? Who will read it? Who will even care to read it? Everyone is so caught up by the great cause that small personal fates are not important any more. How many friends do you have to betray to keep from committing the only socially acknowledged betrayal, the betrayal of the nation? How many petty treacheries, how many pathetic little dirty tricks must one do to remain “clean in the eyes of the nation?”

I am sorry, my system of values is different. For me there have always existed, and always will exist, only human beings, individual people, and those human beings (God, how few of them there are !) will always be excepted from generalizations of any kind, regardless of events, however catastrophic. I, unfortunately, shall never be able to “hate all Serbs,” nor even understand what that really means. I shall always, perhaps until the moment the kind threats on the phone are finally carried out, hold my hand out to an anonymous person on the “other side,” a person who is as desperate and lost as I am, who is as sad, bewildered, and frightened. There are such people in this city where I write my letter, the city my love took me to, a feeling it seems almost indecent to mention these days. Nothing can provide an excuse any more, everything that does not directly serve the great objective has been trampled upon and appears despicable, and with it what love, what marriage, what friendship, what theatre performances!

I reject, I refuse to accept such a crippling of myself and my own life. I played those last performances in Belgrade for those anguished people who were not “Serbs”; but human beings, human beings like me, human beings who recoil before this monstrous Grand Guignol farce in which dead heads are flying. It is to these people, both here and there, that I am addressing my words. Perhaps someone will hear me.

The punishment meted me by my city, my only city and my theatre, my only theatre, the only theatre I felt was mine, is a punishment I feel I do not deserve. I was working in the way I have always felt I had to work, believing in people and our vocation which is supposed to bring people together, not tear them apart. I will never “give up my Belgrade friends”; as some of my colleagues have, because I do not feel that these friends have in any way brought about this catastrophe which has afflicted us, just as I will not turn my back on my Zagreb friends, not even those who have turned their backs on me. I will try in every way possible to understand their panic, their fear, their bitterness, even their hatred, but I plead for the same dose of understanding for me, that is, for a story which is different than many others, for a life which has deviated, due to the so-called destiny, from the expected and customary. Why must everything be the same, so frighteningly uniform, leveled, standardized? Haven’t we had enough of that? I know this is the time of uniforms and they are all the same, but I am no soldier and cannot be one. I haven’t got it in me to be a soldier, soldiering just isn’t my calling.

Regardless of whether we will be living in one, or five, or fifty states, let us not forget the people, each individual, regardless of which side of this Wall of ours the person happens to be on. We were born here by accident, we are this or that by accident, so there must be more than that, mustn’t there?

I am sending this letter into a void, into darkness, without an inkling of who will read it and how, or in how many different ways it will be misused or abused. Chances are it will serve as food for the eternally hungry propaganda beast. Perhaps someone with a pure heart will read it after all.

I will be grateful to that someone.

Mira Furlan,

From Belgrade and Zagreb, November 1, 1991.

#mira furlan #anti war #this woman was fucking incredible #babylon 5

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years

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Sticky

Dieter Bravo x f!reader oneshot

Written as part of the Consent universe (set at at unspecified point in time after the series), but can be read as a standalone as I did not include any details of the series itself.

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: After a calamitous day at the beach, Dieter is only too happy to put you in a sticky situation - with a melted Kit Kat.

Warnings: Chaotic!Dieter, dirty talk, food play, dry humping, masturbation (m), handjob, blowjob, public sex, no use of Y/N, very lightly proofread so apologies for any typos

Word count: Under 3k... apparently I can't write anything shorter 🤷🏻‍♀️

Note: Surprise! I'm back from my holiday! Thank you all of you lovely people for being so patient with me over the past month, this is for you! It was such a fun little warm-up for me as well before I resume working on the next part of Consent. I hope you enjoy this little filthy, lighthearted interlude 😉

Thank you @mandoblowmybackout for reassuring me this is not a crap idea ❤️

Dieter Bravo isn’t really a beach person.

Sure, he doesn’t mind looking at one while sipping on a tropical cocktail with a swirly straw, in a jacuzzi on a private yacht, miles away from said beach.

That’s not what you have in mind though, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell you.

You want to show him the local beach, which you say is the only thing worth seeing in your one-horse town. You borrow your neighbour’s beat-up truck so you don’t get sand in yours, and load it up with two portable sun loungers, a faded sunbrella, towels, and a cooler stuffed with beer and lemonade. You even make sandwiches for lunch. PBJ à la Dieter for him (Sriracha over strawberry jam - you don’t judge, it’s hardly the weirdest thing he is into anyway) and a less adventurous ham and cheese for yourself.

You’ve driven the hour-long journey since he doesn’t have a licence, and you’ve hummed to the radio the whole way.

You’re excited, so he’s trying to enjoy it. He really is.

But.

The beach is a solid twenty-minute walk on a sandy path through the woods. Try walking on sand in Crocs. He’s slipping on sand both inside his damned shoes and beneath them. He’s offered to carry the sun loungers and the cooler, and his favourite faded green t-shirt is saturated with sweat when the beach comes into view.

By the time you decide on the perfect spot, he is winded. Dieter has never been sporty, but even he thinks this is a pathetic performance. He tries to breathe in and out as discreetly as he could and hopes you don’t notice.

It’s another ten minutes before the sunbrella and loungers are set up, and the cooler plonked in the middle, by which time Dieter is positively dying for a beer.

At least the beer is cold, and he sighs as it settles in his belly. This is better. He takes stock of the beach from behind his sunglasses. It’s a charming little crescent of sand and blue water, enclosed by thick forest on both sides. It’s a weekday, and there are only a few other people scattered about. You assure him that no one around town would know who he is, and he believes you.

‘Here,’ you pipe up from your chair, tossing him his sandwich.

Catching your hand, he presses a kiss to the back of your fingers. ‘Thanks, sweetheart. This is pretty great.’

You smile back at him and tuck into your ham and cheese, leaning back in your chair with your legs bent at the knees, your sundress riding up.

He hums happily as he bites into the sweet and spicy sandwich, talking with his mouth full. ‘This is delicious, sweetheart.’

You shake your head. ‘You’re so weird, Dieter Bravo.’

He grins back insolently. ‘Gotta have my lovable quirks or I’m just another Hollywood asshole.’

No sooner has he taken a second bite does he hear an aggressive buzzing approach from behind. He watches in horror as not one, not two, but three wasps start circling his sandwich.

Two problems.

Dieter Bravo does not share food.

More importantly, he does not like flying things.

‘Fuck!’ he squeaks and ducks to your side of the shade, sandwich abandoned on the lounger. The wasps crawl over the bread, antennae wriggling cockily as they plant their literal flag on his lunch.

‘Bravo, it’s just a few wasps,’ you chide.

‘They’re killing machines!’

You roll your eyes. ‘You’re confusing them with hornets. Wasps are much smaller and the worst they can do is sting you.’

‘It’s too late,’ Dieter mopes. ‘They win.’

Leaning over, you stuff the rest of your ham and cheese sandwich in his mouth to stop him sulking. ‘C’mon. This will take your mind off the stupid wasps.’

You pull your dress over your head, and you smile smugly at the way Dieter’s jaw hangs open, sandwich and all. You’re wearing your new lemon print swimsuit and you make a show of bending down to fish the sunscreen from your bag.

By the time you stand up, Dieter has circled his arms around you, hot breath in your ear. He traces thick fingers over the cutouts on the waist. ‘You’re gonna get some really interesting tan lines.’

Squeezing a big blob of sunscreen in your palm, you pass the tube to him. ‘Just do my back, Dieter.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

Once the both of you have rubbed in the SPF, you kick off your flip flops and start at a run. ‘Let’s go, Bravo!’

He follows, Crocs flying behind him, but he’s only taken a few steps before his knees nearly buckle from the heat under his feet. The sand is literally burning hot. He watches you splash into the sea. How the fuck are you running on this?

By the time he gets there, he can’t feel his soles, but the water is a welcoming balm. You emerge from the waves, beaming while you stand in the waist-deep water. Without warning, he tackles you, big hands on your waist, and you squeal as he bundles you into the warm sea.

You cough when you break the surface, legs around his waist, pushing your fingers through his wild curls to slick them back. ‘Nice, huh?’

‘Pretty nice,’ he concedes, one hand snaking down to squeeze your ass cheek under the water, making you squirm and hit his shoulder in a warning.

Maybe he can get used to this.

He isn’t sure what happened. One second he’s leaning in to kiss you, and the next, there is a searing pain on his big toe. Letting go of you with an anguished howl, he flails and dashes out of the water, trying to shake free of whatever is clinging onto his foot in a death grip.

Dieter looks down - it’s a fucking crab with its big claw clenched tight around his toe. He dances on one foot as he tries to shake it off, but it hangs on for dear life, dangling stubbornly from his foot. With a mighty swing of his leg, the crab finally lets go and sails through the air, landing back into the water with a splash somewhere in the distance.

‘Oh my god, are you ok?’ you run up behind him.

There is no blood, but he grimaces at the dark purple bruise that is already blooming. ‘You know what, sweetheart? I think I’ll just sit it out for a bit and have a Kit Kat.’

Your face is pinched in worry, and you wring your hands. ‘I’m so sorry, I haven’t even seen any crabs on this beach before.’

Dieter puts on a brave smile that he hopes is convincing. With a peck on your lips, he assures you, ‘Go swim, I’ll wait.’

He hobbles back across the scorching sand. He really needs that Kit Kat and a cold beer.

Except he can’t find the fucking Kit Kat. He turns your bag inside out and checks the cooler. He swears he packed it this morning. Flopping onto your lounger in frustration (the wasps are still going at his sandwich on his, more of their friends having joined in), he takes a big swig of beer, hoping it would dull the painful throbbing in his big toe.

He should’ve brought some fucking weed.

He must have dozed off. He all but jumps out of his skin when he feels cold droplets of water falling on his face. Cracking an eye open, he realises he’s in direct sunlight, with you leaning over him, your lips cool from the ocean as you brush them against his mouth.

‘Did you have your Kit Kat?’

‘I couldn’t find it,’ he laments and pulls you into his lap, your wet body an instant relief from the midday heat. You suddenly frown, looking at him strangely, and he asks, ‘What is it?’

‘Your face is looking quite red - did you top up on sunscreen after going into the water?’

For fuck’s sake. Now that you mention it, his face feels tender. ‘No, I forgot. The sun must have moved while I was napping.’

You turn and glance down at his feet. ‘Your toe looks quite swollen too. We really should get home and get some antiseptic on it.’

‘Sorry for cutting the day short, sweetheart,’ he says sheepishly while the both of you pack up.

You give him a teasing grin. ‘You’re just a bit of a disaster man everywhere you go, aren’t you?’

He growls and pinches you on your thigh for making fun of him, drawing a squeal out of you. ‘Not my fault that the beach hates me.’

The walk back to the car hurts, to say the least. The sand grates painfully on the bottom of his feet - he’s sure he’s got second degree burns on his soles. His toe hurts so much he can hear it pulse all the way up in his ears, and he’s beginning to feel the sunburn on his nose.

He nearly falls onto his knees in relief when he catches sight of the parked truck, thankfully in the shade.

You nod at the front and toss him the keys. ‘You get in the car and get the AC going. I’ll pack up’

He kisses you on the cheek. ‘Thanks, sweetheart.’

Opening up the driver’s seat door, he starts the car, turning the AC up to the highest level. Even though the truck is in the shade, the heat inside the car is still oppressive. He’s about to close the door when he spots something red in the cup holder on the passenger side.

At the back of the car, you nearly drop the cooler when Dieter yells, ‘MY KIT KAT!’

Three seconds later, he rounds the back of the truck, the chocolate bar hanging limply from his thumb and index finger, his bottom lip jutting out. ‘It melted.’

He cuts such a sad figure with his shoulders slumped, sunglasses perched low on his peeling nose. You can even see the purple of his swollen toe through the holes in his Crocs.

Taking his hand, you pull him in and wrap your hands around his neck. Placing a kiss on his cheek, you try to pacify him. ‘Let’s go home. I’ll make it up to you - in the shower.’

That piques his interest. ‘Oh yeah?’

‘Oh yeah,’ you reassure him with a lopsided smile.

He pauses, and you can see the moment the proverbial light bulb goes off in his head. His lips quirk, mischief colouring his eyes as he pulls your hands from his neck. ‘Actually, now that I think about it - there’s something you could help me with right here.’

You arch an eyebrow and echo his words back at him. ‘Oh yeah?’

‘Oh yeah,’ he nods. He drapes one of the towels on the back of the truck and pats the surface. ‘Hop on, sweetheart.’

You do as you’re told, giving him a look. You’ve parked up against a thick line of bushes, far away from the five other cars in the area, and there’s no one else around.

You’re in just your swimsuit, and in your rush to leave, you haven’t even towelled your hair dry. You feel a droplet of seawater slide down your front, into your cleavage. ‘What are you up to, Bravo?’ you ask suspiciously.

Reaching behind you, he tugs on the string that holds your swimsuit together, and you take a sharp inhale when the humid air hits your bare front. ‘Dieter - ’

He groans when your tits tumble free, cupping one in his big hand, his chunky rings digging into your soft skin. ‘So pretty, sweetheart. Lean back just a little bit.’

You shift, palms landing behind on either side of you while you lean backwards. Your clit brushes against the soft towel beneath, making you moan. ‘What are you -’

Before you can finish your sentence, Dieter’s ripped open the Kit Kat with his teeth. Giving you a brazen grin, he proceeds to drizzle the melted chocolate onto your chest.

‘Dieter!’ you gasp, eyes wide as the thick liquid drips, slow as syrup, onto your skin.

‘What?’ he asks, all wide-eyed innocence. He tosses the empty wrapper over his shoulder. ‘I have to have my Kit Kat somehow. Don’t I deserve it after the rotten day I’ve had?’

With the flat of his tongue, Dieter looms over you and licks a hot trail up between your tits, dragging the melted chocolate upwards before swallowing with a gravelly mmmm that reverberates in his chest.

‘Don’t I?’ he prompts you again.

‘Yes,’ you answer breathlessly.

The corner of his mouth turns up in a satisfied smirk, before he dives down again to swipe his tongue along the underside of your breast, and a shudder runs through you. His brow wrinkles as he smacks his lips. ‘You taste so good, sweetheart.’

You really shouldn’t be letting Dieter Bravo suck, lick and slurp his melted Kit Kat bar off your tits in a public beach parking lot. And it really shouldn’t turn you on this much. You start rutting your hips against the truck, rubbing on the towel underneath as he groans, his head buried in your chest.

‘That’s it, baby,’ he croons, and you can feel his teeth against your skin as he grins. ‘Doesn’t it feel good?’

‘Fuck yes,’ you admit through gritted teeth, one hand tangled in his salt-crusted curls, arching your back when he finally closes his lips around one nipple and sucks hard.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he groans, sticking his right hand crudely under his swimming trunks to grip his cock, while he sucks on your left tit, licking it clean. ‘You’re so sexy, sweetheart. Getting that pussy nice and wet without using your hands. Clever little thing, aren’t you?’

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him stroke himself under his pants, somehow not being able to see it makes it even hotter. Your hips quicken, dragging your clit on the hard surface to relieve the tension between your thighs.

Turning to your right breast, you feel his hot breath hit your skin as he laves your nipple with his tongue. ‘They should do a sea salt and chocolate Kit Kat.’

You laugh. ‘You should pitch it to Nestle.’

‘And I’ll tell them exactly how the idea came to me,’ he chuckles, before nibbling unexpectedly on the side of your breast, making you cry out. Your pussy clenches, unable to hide your desperation as you hump the towel with firm rolls of your hips.

Dieter peers up at you from under long lashes, his smile crooked and cocky. You hear his breath coming out in harsh pants now, the movement in his pants hurried. ‘That’s a good girl. You gonna dry hump the truck till you come, baby?’

You nod, bottom lip caught in your teeth, words having abandoned you. You start to tremble as your cunt quivers, and when Dieter closes his teeth sharply over your nipple, you break - a wail caught in your throat as you let the orgasm rip through you, all the way down to your curled toes and your fingers pulling on his hair.

Glancing down at him, chest heaving, you watch him clean up the last spot of chocolate with his tongue, your skin now clear but still sticky from the sugar. He grins up at you, and you pull him in by the scruff of his tshirt to plant a messy kiss on his lips.

Reaching down, you knock his hand away and wrap your fingers tight around his hard cock, making him gasp and rock into your hand. ‘Baby,’ he pants. ‘That’s it, harder. I’m close.’

He whines when you push him backwards with one bare foot in his chest, but he promptly shuts up when you slide off the truck and kneel on the gravel, shoving his swimming trunks down. The intensity with which he looks down at you, curls wild over his eyes, knocks the breath out of you. Pumping your hand up and down on his length, you lick your lips and tell him plainly, ‘I want you to come inside my mouth.’

Dieter leans forward to grip the back of the truck with both hands and groans as you take him between your lips, eyelids drooping as he watches you slide wetly over his dick again and again. It doesn’t take much for his thighs to shake under your hands and for his hips to thrust into your mouth.

His voice is strained and his head thrown back as he babbles, ‘Don’t stop, sweetheart - please, you’re so fucking sexy swallowing my cock, taking me so well. Can you take me deeper, hmm? Jesus Christ that’s it, just like that, sweetheart. Just a little more and I’ll fill that filthy mouth like you want me to. You’re gonna swallow it all, hmm? Fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna come -’

With a strangled groan, his hips stutter and one hand weaves into your hair, gripping it painfully as his cum hits the back of your throat. You moan around his half-hard cock, milking him leisurely. He jerks as if electricity is running through his veins.

Slowly, the tension bleeds out of his body. You make a show of swallowing his cum, holding his unfocused gaze while you lick your swollen lips.

‘C’mere,’ he mutters, pulling you to your feet with an easy strength that never fails to excite you. One gentle index finger under your chin, he sweeps your face upwards to kiss you deeply.

You can taste the chocolate on his tongue, and you know he can definitely taste himself on yours.

You tap your finger on his beautiful nose that desperately needs aloe vera, your body still crowded up against him, his hands skating over your lower back. ‘Feeling better?’

He shrugs nonchalantly, but his warm eyes and playful wink give him away. ‘What can I say? A Kit Kat always helps.’

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfic #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo smut #cliff beasts 6 #dieter bravo self insert #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo oneshot #consent series

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lightwise · 2 months

Text

TBB S3 E13 Reaction

- Ooooh, Tantiss has light on it again for the first time since the beginning of the season 👀 that is hopeful. Omega’s presence is bringing light back to this desolate place

- We haven’t seen male scientists before have we?

- Scrunchy nose and scowly eyebrows. Baby girl is in full blown revenge mode 😎

- I have to point out that every time a tv show has characters be given perfectly fitting outfits in a new environment (especially something like a prison) it cracks me up to no end. There’s no way Omega and Bayrn sized prison jumpsuits were just laying around somewhere.

- Omega has grown SO MUCH 😭 physically, emotionally, rationally. At the start of this season she made that doll to keep herself sane and now she knows that she doesn’t even need to mention that fact to Eva. She is so confident and focused in her mission and in showing up as a leader and example for these kids. I’m so freaking proud of her

- And to juxtapose that with Bora Vio, where Omega was captured by Cad Bane and confronted by Fennec about her fears of becoming an experiment in a test tube—AND where she got herself out and where the boys could pick her up. Chefs kiss

- Echo!! I love their brotherly handshakes

- Hunter and Echo are not playing around sassing Rampart around lol.

- This shuttle looks very similar to the one Crosshair and Omega escaped in at the beginning of the season

- Why does Crosshair’s “yes” sound like someone screwed up on the sound mixing side? It’s so weirdly quiet and whispery

- The little tappy taps on the uniform and “I can’t wear this” “you’ve been demoted” I’m DYING 💀

- The grid layout of these prison cells reminds me of the Box episodes in TCW where Obi-Wan becomes Rako Hardeen

- Scalder is definitely trouble

- Yeah Emerie stand up for yourself and the kids!

- These kids voices 😭

- And Omega’s voice 😏 allll her training is paying off

- They stripped their armor 😭😭😭😭 all of their individuality and expressiveness gone. I do not like this

- Alright, I can see why the hair and beard trim is driving everyone wild, but it’s still not for me 😆. The bitchiness is endlessly entertaining though

- Okay this is now infinitely nerve-wracking

- Hunter putting his hand on Rampart’s shoulder and him immediately wiping it off is so hilarious 🤣. I think there is a modicum of respect that is established here though. Hunter is warning him but also giving him the clone sign of respect with the shoulder grasp. Rampart is still fastidious with his uniform but begrudgingly admits that he’s in on this mission even if it’s because he has no other choice, letting them know that he will handle himself properly.

- It’s interesting that many of the imperials this season have had beards. Last season most of them were blond and clean shaven, and now they’re dark haired and bearded. Coincidence? Trying to reuse facial models? An extra cold winter and Tarkin didn’t get his hands on the dress code protocols? 🤷🏻‍♀️

- I LOVE when the Empire is just flaunting one’s rank and bring an asshole to get things done. It works every time

- “I’ve missed this” 🤣 honestly it’s too bad Rampart isn’t willingly on the right side bc he would be steadily becoming hotter if he was

- Surely Echo appreciated the regulation drop 😅

- Ruh roh. Does no imperial ever see the “invite you into the ship and then hit you in the back of the head” thing coming??

- Echo’s always “working on” encryptions

- They’re going to have to go straight there?? 😱

- I have to say, I do feel for Rampart here. He genuinely didn’t sign up for this. Neither did the rest of them really but they don’t have a choice.

- “Wonderful. We’re all going to die” pls no 😭😭

- At no point did I ever worry that Rampart was going to give them up though. He might be pissed but he knows he’ll be sent directly back to prison if anyone in the empire recognizes him. He was sentenced by Palpatine himself. There’s no coming back from that. Whatever he chooses to do going forward, I think he knows it will have to be something he carves out himself, and trying to betray the Batch won’t help him at all in that process. Hopefully this remains true for the rest of the episodes.

- These overhead shots are insanely beautiful

- Bayrn is just a baby 🥺

- The perfect amount of suspense 😱 and Omega knows how to sound perfectly innocent

- Dr. Scalder is feeling like Nurse Ratched right now 👀

- “Our way out” “One way out” aghhhh let’s go!!

- And we get another “Echo is the baddest badass ARC Trooper ever” sequence and I LOVE it

- The droid chute lowers for the little mouse droid 🤣 adorable

- Echo 🤝 Omega doing what they need to do in the nick of time

- Wrecker wearing the tiny hat I can’t 😂😂😂

- Cue the hyperventilating

- This is so nerve-wracking

- Omg if Echo had gone out that way 😭

- “Negative” SIR 🥵 🥵 🥵

- In the last possible second!! The very warranted trust they have in Echo after all they’ve been through! Rampart’s quite reasonable fears and yet their crazy plan working as the Bad Batch does! And Crosshair catching Rampart so he doesn’t fall even though he doesn’t have to!

- I was officially white-knuckled by the end of this episode 😱💀

- Can we take a minute to appreciate Hunter’s leadership and piloting skills here? His choice to make this jump is insanely brave, his ability to fly has been proven to be capable and daring when needed, and his calm, proactive decision making that has largely been missing since their military days is back in full force. He’s on a mission and he’s not stopping until he gets his girl back for good.

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb spoilers #star wars #the bad batch spoilers

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