#but i do believe in myself i just have to get into the right groove | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bumblequinn · 11 months

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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

#adhd #advice #asks #from #sourpatchsquids

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akoyaxs · 11 months

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˚༄ Tìyora Pt 5 - Final ༊ Aonung x Fem!Sully!Reader ༊ Enemies w Benefits ༊ 5.6k words Warnings: shit is filthy, rut, oral (m and f recieving), 69, rough sex, p in v, multiple orgasms, angst, fluff at the end because we got to finish it off nice :) ~ I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for all the support throughout this smutty slutty little story, I swear it's so unserious at times and I have a good little giggle writing it, but I couldn't do it without all my pookie pies and this one is for all of you Aonung sluts cause this man is so fine 😻 OKAY ENJOY!!! - Zenna

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“He’s a complete skxawng,” you growl, stabbing the knife you’re meant to be sharpening harshly into the sand.

“Right,” Tsireya says consolingly, though you suspect if you raise your gaze, you’ll find her rolling her eyes. The two of you are sitting on the beach, doing your various tasks, though it seems more like you're ranting and less like you're actually doing anything.

“I haven’t seen him in a week,” you scowl. “He hasn’t been at training, or anywhere around the village or the bay or even the rest of the reef. And he’s not even hiding in your marui.”

“And how would you know that?” Tsireya asks, a small smile curling her pretty lips.

“Because I checked,” you say bluntly. “Several times. Because I’m bothered that my supposed warrior commander is neglecting his duties. That is all.” Tsireya doesn’t say anything, just pursing her lips and nodding seriously, and your frown deepens. “I’m serious. What sort of leader is he going to be if he’s just sulking around and hiding from-”

“And what would he be sulking about?” your friend counters. “I haven’t seen my brother in a couple days, even after he’s been avoiding you or whatever, if you’re so bothered, why don’t you tell me what happened.”

At that, you pause.

You aren’t even entirely sure what happened. The last time you saw Aonung, which had been over a week ago, he’d caught you with Ta’ru behind the rocks. You had played a little game which ended up with you on your knees, getting the shit rocked and breath knocked flat out of you as he fucked you like he hated you (which, of course, he probably still did).

You had probably just imagined that he’d become less haughty towards you, that he’d been sweet and gentle sometimes instead of his usual taunts and condescending idiocy towards you. But apparently not, because now he’s even worse. You can tolerate fights and comments, Eywa knows you’ve battled off enough of them, but getting cut out and ignored just stings so much more.

No. You don’t care.

It’s not that deep. Why should you care that the most infuriating person you ever met is treating you with the same hatred you’re meant to feel for him.

You shouldn’t care.

But you do, for some inexplicable reason, and as always, your upset comes in the form of anger.

“Hello?” Tsireya snaps you back into reality. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about whatever weird thing is going on between you and my brother, but maybe stop trying to murder the beach?”

“What?” You look down to realise you’d been violently stabbing the sand with your knife, shells shattered at the bottom of the jagged grooves you left behind, loose sand scattered all over you from your unconscious stabbing. “Oh, sorry.” Tsireya grins, and then the rest of her words process in your mind and you straighten up to glare at her. “There’s nothing 'going on' between me and Aonung. He’d be the last per-”

“Oh really?” your friend scoffs. “Yeah, I’m not blind. I’ve never seen Aonung like this before.”

“Like what?” you scowl, but a guilty tone of your curiosity shines through your voice as you study her. But Tsireya just laughs and shakes her head, as though she can’t believe you right now. “Fine,” you snap. “Don’t tell me then. I’ll go find him myself.”

“That’s probably not a great idea,” Tsireya says, scrunching her nose up. “If Aonung doesn’t want to be bothered, everyone knows best than to try and disturb him.”

“Well he can suck it up because I don’t care if he’s some stupid silly prince or some bullshit,” you shrug. “I care that he’s ignoring me, because no one ignores me and gets away with it.”

Tsireya just grins as you stalk away, and you swear you hear her muttering smug, giggly nonsense to herself as she watches your furious, purposeful storming.

You end up in the forest behind the village. You’re not entirely sure why; maybe you’re just too worked up and you need something the least bit similar to home, or maybe you just think better when surrounded by trees instead of sand and sea. Either way, the second your feet hit soft, damp grass and the sunlight is barred by lush shady canopy, your annoyance doesn’t quite dissipate, but at least your body seems to relax in the mere presence of the forest.

You’re just wandering, enjoying the sounds of the birds and allowing the damp, cool scents to roll over you like home, albeit more tropical and sweet than rainforest. Or at least, you think it’s only the sounds of the rainforest wafting through the damp air, until you hear it. Deep, pained, laborious groans. Like someone’s hurting, aching, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

You pause. You could run back and get help, but the groans sound oddly familiar, and you find yourself instantly following them. Through the bushes and trees and shrubs, past thickets of bright flowers and sharp thorns and random animals. They’re growing louder, hungrier, the closer you draw to the source of the sound until you burst into a small clearing, a small woven marui stretched over in a shelter in the centre, blocking the groans from view.

You stalk closer, silently, though you can imagine they could never hear you over their own groans and grunts. Then you’re peeking through the gaps of the weavings and stepping into the hut.

Aonung’s slumped against one side, curled up slightly so you can’t see him properly, and he’s hidden in the shadows anyway. His face looks flushed and frustrated, and there’s a certain darkness around him that has your tail pricking up unconsciously. But when he looks up, when he sees you, his eyes darken further.

“What are you doing here?” he croaks, gritting his teeth, sounding furious.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you snap, crossing your arms in the entrance. “It’s been a week Aonung, where the fuck have you been? Cowering in this little hut doing Eywa knows what?”

Aonung just continues to stare, eyes growing darker and hungrier with every second they rove over your body, and you feel them lingering particularly on the curves and hidden places he knows only too well now.

“You need to leave.”

“What?” you ask, taken aback by the audacity of Aonung. “No.”

“Leave now,” Aonung growls, his voice deep and desperate and dangerous, and you feel a sharp jolt somewhere deep within you, as though your body is recognising something the rest of you cannot.

“What did I tell you about you and your orders?” you say stiffly, glaring at his slumped figure. “I don’t give two flying fucks who you are, you cant-”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” he roars, eyes narrowing to pale slits, face contorted with desperate frustration.

“NO!” you shout back with equal ferocity, standing your ground and taking a stubborn step into the marui.

And then it hits you. The scent, the energy, the strangeness of his behaviour and his absence from the village, not just you. It should have been obvious already; the lustful darkness in those usually bright eyes, the heat with which he snarls his words, the sheer frustration surrounding him that was no doubt sharpened by days with only his own company.

“You’re in rut,” you whisper, tilting your head down at him.

Aonung doesn’t reply, just breathing heavily. For a moment you think he’s trying to compose himself to speak, but then you realise that his eyes are squeezed shut, hands gripping himself back with fierce desperation for a reason.

It’s starting to piece together in your mind, but not at all. It makes sense that he would go away from the village, hide away and try to master himself in solitude, but he had you. The thought makes you frown, that he didn’t want you near, that he clearly doesn’t want you near, and he didn’t bother asking for your help.

Aonung’s growing more frustrated the longer you stand there, and you can sense wave after wave of pure, vicious, animalistic desire radiating off him and breaking over you in a way that makes something… change.

“You need to leave,” he whispers, his voice a small plead. The change from his snarls and roars for you to leave makes you shiver, and you can already see himself slipping away, his will cracking under your presence and his last attempts to get you to leave becoming weaker as his hunger conquers him.

But you don’t. Surprising yourself, and definitely him, you step closer again, body feeling strangely shaky, even nervous. His ever-darkening eyes watch your every step, and his grip tightens so hard you see his large hands paling, anchoring himself, stopping himself from moving.

“I thought we were supposed to help each other out,” you say quietly, taking another step closer.

“Please,” he breathes, his voice nothing more than a small whine, and you exhale shakily. He’s a fucking mess, and you find yourself longing to take care of it, living off that hunger he’s trying so hard to hold back. You can see that, and that’s probably why you do it.

Your hand reaches out to lift his face towards yours, fingers trapping his chin in your gaze. He’s obviously struggling, whether to refrain from looking away or trying to hold the stare, you don’t know. And you know is the dark desperation in those eyes, and understanding passes between the two of you.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” Aonung whispers, head unconsciously leaning into your palm, looking so lost and helpless you just want to fuck it all away.

“I know.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he says, chest heaving with the cracking efforts to control himself.

“I can take it,” you say quietly, gaze turning defiant. He should know that by now, you have an excellent threshold. Either way, you can’t imagine Aonung ever hurting you badly enough that you’d stay away anyway.

And then he cracks, his restraint crumbling, his grip holding himself back loosening, and he’s crashing his lips onto your with a vicious snarl.

With a small jolt, you remember you never kissed. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you; kissing seemed to intimate, and the arrangement had no room for intimacy. You always told yourself you didn’t have any time for it anyway.

But now, with Aonung tugging you closer with every second, kissing with such desperate fervour, it feels like he’s devouring you whole. His lips are hot and slightly chapped, rough and insatiable against yours, tongue slipping ruthlessly past your lips, fangs sinking lightly down on your warm, kissed skin. His hands are hungry too; roaming all over you with careless abandon, squeezing at the flesh of your ass, trailing between your thighs before infuriatingly pulling away to yank your top straight off your chest.

You let out a small hiss, whether you’re annoyed about the top or just shocked or just plain taken aback by his reckless thirst. The beads go scattering everywhere, the light, joyful plinks sounding completely inappropriate to Aonung’s heaving breaths, or the lewd, mortifying moan you let slip when he hefts you up into his lap and closes his lips around your breast.

You unconsciously arch backwards, pushing your chest forward, and he moves with careless hunger; licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy. He wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks sharply at it before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit.

And then, as though Aonung’s impatience gets the better of him (and you have to remind yourself that this is completely about him, and he wouldn’t be in the right mind to be processing your entire pleasure either), he’s pulling you away and tossing you against the floor.

You aren’t used to it. Sure, he’s been less than gentle before, but when he said he wouldn’t hold back, you admittedly had no idea what you were getting into. Seconds later he’s on top of you, pinning you down and sinking his fangs into your warm neck, inches away from the throb of your pulse.

Another symptom of heats and ruts; marking. It was another thing you’d been careful to avoid, so no one found out you were fucking, but Aonung’s animalistic instincts were obviously overpowering. And besides, it made you feel things you never would have imagined.=

At the first whine of his bite, Aonung knows you like it. So again and again he sinks his sharp fangs into your warm, soft flesh, along your neck, the underside of your breasts, the curve of your waist, the inside of your trembling thighs. Then, eyes looking carefully up at you to see your reaction, he lightly licks away the droplet of blood and brushes your clit with a large turquoise finger. You can't speak, just scrunch your nose tightly, grip onto his braids for dear life as he muscles his way in between your thighs and goes to fucking town.

Everything about him is just too much. His hands are holding you down with the force of an akula, as though he’s worried you’re going to scramble away from him, but you doubt you’d be able to anyway. He’s suckling at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over.

You’re never really that worried about being too gentle with him either, but you’re finding yourself more free in his rut state, knowing his mind is too hazy to focus on any of the little details he’d usually taunt you for if you dared to do them. He doesn’t care that you’re rutting into his face with desperation to rival his, in fact, you can see his hips searching for any sort of friction with the floor.

“Aonung,” you try to say, but it comes out as more of a broken whine. You cough and try again. “Aonung!”

He doesn’t respond, the only indicator he even heard you was the slight twitch of his ears before he’s sliding a thick finger into you. Trying your best to beat off the lewd moans that spill out of you, you try your best to tug at his head to speak to him, cause there’s no fucking way he’s listening properly when his head is nestled in its favourite spot, squeezed tightly between your thighs.

“I’m supposed to be helping you,” you huff, growing frustrated with the effort to slow him down. “That’s sort of the whole po-”

You cut yourself off with a positive shriek when he’s flipping you over, letting you flop against his front before dragging you up his body so your cunt is hovering over his face, thighs once again straddling the sides of his head in a very different scenario.

“Better?” he grunts, sounding extremely irritated.

“Where did you learn this?” you ask, looking in shock at the insatiable man beneath you, growing suddenly familiar with this position when your gaze drops to where it naturally falls, at the very large tent in his tewng. Aonung just huffs, as though growing increasingly annoyed that you keep delaying him.

“Don’t worry about that,” he growls. “You want to help me, go ahead. Now can I finish you off or are you going to keep yapping like your life depends on it?”

You scoff, but before your next words can be spoken, he drops you down onto his face and sucks at your clit. Hard. You let out a shocked squeak, jolting on his face, but he doesn’t protest at all by your weight, and when you worry you might suffocate him and try to lift off, his arm is looping around your waist and forcing you back down before remembering what you’re meant to be doing.

You reach out to grab his length, and he lets out a soft huff of impatience against you, the vibration making you flutter. Quickly, before you can get distracted to the point you’re completely useless to help him, you lick a long stripe up his length before closing your lips and swirling your tongue around the tip.

Thankfully, he seems somewhat satiated, letting out a relieved groan against your throbbing clit, and you slowly bob your head up and down his length, curling your tongue on the underside, dragging warmly against his sensitive flesh. But unfortunately, you forgot to factor in the rut aspect.

Soon enough, he was thrusting mindless up into your mouth, hand reaching out to hold you there, force you to take it all down your throat. You oblige, tears leaking from your eyes, moans spilling around his length in your mouth from his relentless nipping and sucking and licking between your thighs.

It is, by far, the filthiest thing you’ve ever done. You almost feel ashamed of all of it – the lewd sounds you make, the mortifying wet sounds from Aonung between your legs, his strong abs rubbing against your naked tits as he ruthlessly thrusts up into your mouth – but you remind yourself that it’s all for a noble purpose. You’re helping him out, that’s all. That is all it ever is.

And when you inhale deeply and take him down your throat, all warm and wet and hot around him, Aonung finds his hand falling to sink into your long dark hair, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a soft, rumbly, “fuck”.

And when he hits the back of your throat and you accidentally moan around his length, his hips accidentally buck into your mouth despite all his best efforts to compose himself, despite your small hand holding him back against the rock. Instantly your eyes fill with tears and Aonung hurriedly pulls you off him with a gentle grip on your hair.

He seems larger than ever, pulsing and swollen and obscene, driven mad and inconsolable with the animalistic desire consuming him, and you know he’s probably completely deaf to you. He pays no mind to the small sobs you let out against his length, though he remains determinedly focused in his task of sucking your soul out of your cunt.

You can’t tell if your lightheadedness is caused by the lack of air from Aonung being stuffed so far down your throat you can imagine he’s prodding your heart, or the overwhelming pleasure from his far less than gentle treatment between your legs, or maybe even both.

It’s filthy. It’s obscene. It’s fucking humiliating really, that there is just something so deliciously wrong with this situation. Oh god, Tsireya probably knew Aonung was in rut, probably knew what would happen, what’s going on right now in this hidden hut in the forest. You can’t even bring yourself to care.

Aonung’s practically leaking into your mouth and you continue, trying helplessly to keep up with his insatiable paces, but you’re growing further from focus the longer he continues, the harder he sucks at you, the further he pushes himself into your throat.

It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s hot. It’s a warm mix of saliva and precum that’s shining over your lips and mingling with the tears flooding shamelessly down your cheeks.

And when you come undone, it’s with a moan that’s positively obscene. Aonung’s a mess of strangled groans and bucking hips and hands sinking into your hair as he hungrily crests. Your tongue slides along the veins and ridges of his cock.

There is something just so perfectly fucked about the scene, and when you come back down, tears and come and saliva smeared all over your face and collar and tits, Aonung is still hard, and when he pulls you back down to his face, you realise he has no intention of letting up anytime soon.

Your first orgasm has barely abated before you feel it building again. It’s humiliating really, all your sounds and the way Aonung can definitely feel you practically throbbing. It’s overwhelming to the point you think you might actually die, but there’s no physical possibility you could pull away, not with his arm looped strictly around your waist to hold you still.

It’s hot in the hut, or maybe it isn’t, but you feel as though there’s fucking fire coursing through your veins, heating your face and definitely between your thighs. It seems impossible how much you like this, it’s fucked and filthy as well, but there’s something about Aonung’s insatiable hunger and his plain, shameless desperation.

Your moans are growing hoarser at his absolutely relentless movements, warm, textured tongue and slicked mouth sealing around your overstimulated, throbbing clit as his hands move to squeeze the flesh of your waist and hips and ass. You’re writhing against him with enough force to break his nose, but he’s just groaning right back as though this is helping as much as anything in his frustrated rut.

It’s too much, and it feels as though you might actually pass out on this once. Humiliatingly, yet somehow shamelessly, you’re begging for more, for less, to stop, to keep going. It’s slowly slurring into a sobbing mess until finally all that comes out of your mouth are lewd, strangled cries. You think that somewhere amidst that strangled heap of moans that his name is repeated, over and over again, his body tensing under you with every time you whine it, followed by a demeaning flood of incoherent sobbing.

And then it crests.

Somewhere in the middle of your euphoric, delirious vision of blank, tranquil white and the peaceful ringing in your ears, it strikes you that it really is like a wave. Because when it breaks, you fucking flood.

Your muscles are tensed so tight you might pull something, and you couldn’t care less. You can’t feel anything anyway, beyond blow after blow of overwhelming, world-shattering pleasure, completely unaware of the way you squirted beyond his mouth, over his whole face and body, your intense release gleaming with the tahnì over his flushed skin.

You babble incoherently for a moment, eyes wide and drooping at the same time, mouth open in hopeless shock, hands searching to find purpose on his hips before Aonung is lifting you up, chucking you back against the floor and crawling onto your trembling body.

If you thought the regular Aonung, your Aonung, had gone before, you have no idea what’s happening now. There is no trace of that taunting, careful, jealous, gentle man in those large blue eyes. Hell, there’s not even any blue either, just a starved icy ring around the pools of ravenous onyx gazing at you, filled with raw thirst.

There’s no sign of Aonung in any of his movements, not with the way he’s tugging you into him like you’re a fucking ragdoll, not with the heaviness of his breath, the way he claps you against him so he can sink his fangs into your shoulder as he pushes past the ring of resistance and slides into your tight, welcoming heat.

Your cry is strangled by the dryness of your throat, feeling yourself being stretched to a point you don’t think he ever even met before. It’s painful, but you find yourself not wanting anything more than being able to take him, to be able to bring him pleasure, to let him into his paradise between your legs.

This now is a brutal reminder of why you’re here, who all of this is about. Aonung radiates complete careless selfishness as he pushes deep into you, until you physically can’t take him anymore, until you’re sobbing against his shining chest, gripping his arms so tight his flesh is starting to bruise, before he pulls out and slams back in. Fuck.

You don’t know shit, where you are, what way’s up, even if you’re fucking na’vi or tawtute, because the stretch of his relentless length feels as though he’s absolutely ridiculously massive compared to you. All you can do is cling to his tense, growling figure, praying to Eywa that this is satiating him, your own body limp in his iron grip.

Your lolling head allows him perfect placement to your neck and shoulders and chest, where he litters you with hungry nips, warm, wet, textured tongue licking away the blood his fangs spilt. Your own hands can’t do much either, but when your nails dig into his back, he lets out a low, snarling groan against your skin, and you can’t help raking you hands up and down, tracing your mark into the rippling muscles under your fingers.

And when you think you might actually pass away, where the pleasure has peaked so high it might as well be in the fucking heaven tawtute talk about, Aonung pulls out to the tip, fingers lacing back to tug your kuru, neck completely exposed and throat tight with the stretch, and gaze trapped helplessly in his.

“You’re mine,” he snarls, face inches from yours, large eyes deluged in sharp ferocity. “Mine, forest girl.”

And you find you can’t do anything but whine weakly against him. You can hardly breathe in this position, feeling impossibly empty without him stuffed deep in you, yet still being stretched wide by him. His gaze is raking fiercely over your tear-streaked, flushed face, before he buries himself deep inside you once more and completely loses himself.

And you do lose yourself. You just blank out, knowing nothing but his weight against you, his lewd growls in your heart, feeling strangely safe and comfortable. And content.

When you come back, whether seconds or minutes or hours or maybe even days have passed, you don’t know. All you know is you’re slumped against the floor, and you’re no longer drenched in shining sweat, no longer glimmering with release over your skin. The bites scattering your body are throbbing with a warm sting, no longer bleeding, now ruby adornments to your skin.

There is nothing more distressing than the realisation that hits you next; that you’re alone.

With a flare of panic that makes all of you throb painfully, you creak up to a small, seated position. It stings more than the bites, than the stretch and the intensity of your releases. Aonung must have left you, used and littered, a helpful toy during his rut. The wound deepens when you remember that’s all he would have thought it was.

He had no idea - let alone his mind being in its animalistic, desirous state - simply believing you were here to aid him in his struggles.

But then something catches your eye, a dark, muscular pile in the corner of the hut. With terrified tentativity, you pad lightly over to Aonung’s slumped form, back turned to you, face buried in his lap. You can see the marks you raked into his back as you move closer, but you don’t dare to touch him.

“Aonung?” you whisper nervously. He doesn’t respond for a moment, and the tension curling inside you throbs painfully again. He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t look at you. “Are you…”

“You should go,” he says tightly. His voice sounds strained, painful, but his words sting further than any ache he could be possibly feeling. You still, hands half reached towards him, face twisted in a helpless expression of hurt, trying your best to breathe. You have no idea why you feel so vulnerable right now, why he suddenly has the power to break everything within you, everything you know, and why he’s already halfway there.

“What?” you whisper, and despite all your best efforts, your small, trembling voice expresses all the ache and horror and heartache you tried to hide. Aonung’s muscles tense a little at the so painfully obvious brokenness of your voice, and you would give anything to see what his face looks like right now, as he ruins you.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters.

That’s all. No name. No explanation. Just two meaningless words tossed carelessly your way, like some twisted reparation for all the damage his last three words did. You bite your lip, feeling your eyes welling with tears.

WHY WERE YOU SO FUCKING STUPID. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU RIGHT NOW.

This is Aonung, the man you hated since the moment you landed in Awa’atlu, the same one just a week before you had practically at your fucking feet. The one you swore you’d never feel this way about. But now here you are, already breaking at his carelessness.

WHY ARE YOU SO WEAK.

The tears stinging your eyes disgust you. Since childhood you had never cried. Not when protecting your siblings, not when getting shot by demons, not when leaving your clan and birthright and all you had ever known. And now you are about to cry over a fucking man, one that you tried so impossibly hard not to care for.

FUCK HIM.

“Fuck you.”

The words are out, they are spoken. Not with quite the ferocity you meant to snarl them with, but the brokenness of your voice had a certain effect too. Aonung tenses, but that just sparks the usual fire inside you. He had no fucking right to be upset right now.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice steadily emotionless, and that fire blazes brighter.

“Don’t be,” you glare. “I mean, the perfect prince of the clan does no wrong, right?”

“I’m sor-”

“Stop!” you shout, rage boiling inside of you. “Stop fucking saying that Aonung. I mean, this was the arrangement, right? Careless sex, no strings, no attachment, no concern, fucking NOTHING.”

Aonung’s shoulders slump slightly, and once again, your annoyance flares that he still won’t face you.

“So what was all that shit about your mine if you’re just going to kick me out now,” you say rawly. “Was it just your rut? Are you just a weirdly jealous fucking man, getting mad when people touch shit that isn’t actually yours? Why are you so fucking angry-”

“Look at yourself!” Aonung explodes.

It takes you a moment to realise that he’s suddenly standing, towering over you, fists balled and whole body tense, face twisted in rage and disgust. With himself.

You can’t think of anything to say for a moment, tense, furious silence falling in the dangerously small space between the two of you.

“I mean, you’re hurt,” he says, eyes raking over your body. The bites are glowing against the dark, rich blue like sanguine crescents. Your skin looks raw and flushed still, and you realise that he must have wiped everything off you. “You’re ruined.”

“Aonung I-”

“And I did that to you,” Aonung sighs, face twisting in slight distress as his eyes fall over the bites and grips and few bruises he left over you. You let out the breath you’d been holding.

Aonung’s gaze flicks up to yours, emotionless and blank as you stare back at him. There’s terror in his eyes, which are slowly returning to their usual blue, pupils shrinking away as the animalism of his rut starts to pass. He’s worried, maybe you’ll slap him, or shout at him again. But your hand comes to rest gently on his face, thumb brushing lightly over his flushed cheek.

“I told you Aonung, I can take it.”

Aonung squeezes his eyes shut, face screwed up in overwhelming emotion. But his head unconsciously leans into your hand, and you smile slightly.

“But I hurt you,” he whispers, sounding disgusted with himself.

“You’ll have to try harder than that skxawng,” you smile weakly, and Aonung lets out a shaky laugh. “But I was more than happy to do what it took to help you.”

“Eywa,” he groans, his own hand coming up to brush your hair from your face. “I’m so sor-”

“Stop apologising skxawng,” you frown. “Or I’m actually going to leave.”

Instantly, Aonung’s hand closes around your own, his fingers lacing through yours and tugging you back, so you’re inches away from him, neck tipped back to look at him. There’s that usual grin playing around his face; although his face remains blank, you can see the smirk glittering in those eyes.

“Go on princess,” he whispers. “What were you saying, before I so rudely interrupted you?”

“That you’re a complete idiot,” you grumble, but you don’t let go of him. You don’t want to ever let go of him. “What did you mean before, about me being-”

“Mine,” Aonung finishes. “You’re mine.”

And you feel a small smile twitching at the corner of your lips.

“Alright,” you smile, blinking up at him.

“Alright?” he echoes, as though that wasn’t at all the answer he was expecting, what he dared to hope for.

“Yep. I’m yours, fishlips.”

There’s a brief moment where he’s silent, eyes wide and staring blankly at you. He blinks several times, lips parting, before he’s stepping in and wrapping his arms tight over you, pillowing your body in his own. After a moment, you lean in even closer and snake your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I still think you’re a skxawng,” you mumble against his skin, and his laugh rumbles warm and comforting against you.

“Of course syulang,” Aonung grins, squeezing your waist lightly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stay in that embrace for a moment, before he realises just how tired you are, and then he’s instantly fussing about you, making sure you’re alright, that you don’t need anything, before he’s making you rest against him, cuddled warmly and comfortably on the floor.

His hand is resting lightly over you, lightly tracing your darker patterns or gently playing with your hair as you drift comfortably off, head resting comfortably against his solid chest. You can feel his warm heartbeat against your cheek, steady and reassuring.

When you wake up, he’ll be waiting to be able to hold you tighter without being scared of waking you up, having already gone out and hunted while you were sleeping. He’ll take you gently back to the village where you both deny any of the suspicious comments your friends and family shoot you, but no one believes you; the hopeless grins on your faces and the sly grins you send each other aren’t all that sneaky.

But for now, you’re warm and comfortable and happy in your fucked out, satisfied state, snuggled against the man you once hated so fiercely.

As far as it goes, you came out alright on this one.

Quite the victory it was.

Your tìyora.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

༊ Taglist: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul - Thank you for being here and enjoying this story 💗 Also tagging @pandoraslxna @pandorxxx @hotdsworld @tojisun @xylianasblog @aperiraa @blue-slxt @theblueflower05 and @vivid-ink bc you are all my biggest inspirations and thank you for being such a big part of the avatar fandom 😘 Okay let me know if i forgot someone hope you pookie pies enjoyed 🙃

#avatar fanfiction #avatar fandom #aonung x reader #avatar the way of water #aonung x female reader #avatar smut #aonung fic #avatar #aonung fanfiction #aonung #aonung x sully!reader #enemies to lovers #enemies with benefits

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psychedelic-ink · 4 months

Text

an update

I think this was a post long coming, and I just want to say right off the bat that it's nothing bad, just some life updates I wanted to share with y'all 💕

These past weeks have been tiring, we had overnights for inventory for about two weeks which left me pretty tired and exhausted to do anything else, I also had regular shifts in between which drained the remaining energy I had left.

I still don't have my license (I do have my permit tho!) because I have to buy additional classes but I'm planing on buying them this week so I can get my license as soon as possible.

I have an official-ish move date! thank you to everyone who donated to my kofi and helped me out. I'll be moving in July 9th with a friend from work which is exciting and at the same time slightly nerve wrecking???? I don't know what I'm feeling to be honest, I think I've just been feeling kinda homesick and lost. Even though I always preferred living on my own, I still had the chance to visit my family whenever and I don't really have that chance here-- I mean sure if there's an emergency I can fly over but I can't really just get on a bus and visit them which makes me even more anxious.

BUT I have been happy and will be happier as soon as I move out and get my freedom again (my aunts have placed cameras in the house which I'm hoping they'll remove soon and they only had them because of the trip they went to but it's been four days and the cameras are still there....)

I'm hoping to get back into writing again, I have commissions I'm working on so most free time I have goes to that but believe me when I say I miss writing for myself and you guys SO MUCH. I miss spending time on other hobbies as well and it's been hard getting my groove back but I am trying.

I miss tumblr and you guys and I am so so sorry if it looks like I've been ignoring tags or messages. It's just I'm mentally drained and most of the time wait for a moment I'm not to answer which sometimes take a while.

I love you guys all so so much !

#update #im going to try and be more active even if it means just me shiftposting #feel free to send me stuff including sinful thoughts about a certain man we all love and adore <3 #i also wanna change my themeee

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beeandheroddobsessions · 11 months

Text

Bloody Sacrifices

Summary: Reader reminisces about how she ended up with Elvis

TW: Cheating, angst, I think that’s it!

A/N: I know I know, where tf has bee been? Under a rock, sorry for leaving so suddenly but that’s just the way things go, I really did try to get back into my groove, with little success. But between school, and getting married and work, I had no time or really the patience to let myself be creative. And then, Eureka! An idea struck and my drafted papers that had been waiting on me finally started to get finished. Again, really sorry for the cliffhangers and such!

-Signed, Bee💕

Mrs. Presley,

What a title. Sometimes, it’s hard to think of life without him. He’s not perfect, no man is, but he’s pretty damn close.

Often time, you find yourself thinking about how you got this far. Married, comfortable, committed, with a beautiful child and very little worries.

The day had been heavy, you hadn’t had the greatest time. The boy you swore your heart to decided that for your third anniversary, he would treat another beauty to the dinner you reserved. Under his name, like some fool.

When the attendants opened the doors, you passed under the threshold, heart swelling. Something made you so certain it would be the day; the day he’d get down on one knee with glassy eyes and a nervous tongue and fumble over those four little words that would change your life forever.

When you asked the hostess about your table, she was quick to inform you that, the table had already been sat. You thought, for a moment, that he had beat you here. This made you excited, thinking he was really taking the initiative. So you thanked the woman and made your way around the restaurant, searching for your dream boat.

It didn’t take you long to spot him, knowing that haircut just about anywhere. Actually, every minute detail, down to how his collar hugged his neck was logged in your brain. Up until this point, you had spent an unhealthy amount of time…studying, perfecting.

So you approached the table, carefully as to not give away how excited you really were. As you got closer, hoping to see him fidgeting with his tie in front of an empty seat, you could feel the butterflies churn in your stomach. As fate would have it, things don’t always go as planned. Not at all actually.

Instead, you found a pretty blonde woman with tears in her eyes adoring an exceptional rock, and that boy with his head held high, with a beaming smile, and chest puffed out. Made you sick.

To this day, you aren’t sure what really drove you to do what you did that night.

Maybe, it was the way you cleaned after him like a mother would a toddler, or the way he expected dinner on the table before he returned at five thirty or all hell broke loose. It might’ve even been having to keep everything spectacularly clean. Down to his damn underwear.

Whatever it was, the camels back was broken and there was no reason for you to hold face now. You kept the tears at bay, gracefully walking over, stopping in front of the lovely couple.

Wouldn’t you know. As soon as the man saw you he did start to fidget with that tie. That same damned tie you bought for his birthday. You’d never seen him wear it but you’d guessed that day was as good a time as any.

And her. When you really looked at her, you picked her apart in less than 20 seconds. Bottle blonde, not natural, lipstick that wasn’t her color, makeup that didn’t compliment her, the dress she wore did nothing for her figure. All the things he swore not to like, sat right in front of you. You couldn’t believe it.

With a painfully fake smile you looked between the two. You had let out a quick breath in preparation for what you were about to say. It was quick, and sweet, no malice detected.

“Engaged?”

That was it. That was all you had asked.

Withought missing a beat she nodded her head

“After two years, I wasn’t even expecting this! At a place this nice, on our anniversary too. He really is so thoughtful. And the ring, ugh—”

She continued to ramble, but all you could hear was “Two years” and “our anniversary”

She had no clue about you. None.

And, for two of the three years, this man had the wool pulled over your eyes. Fresh out of high school, You had been walking blindly behind him and never noticed.

At least that’s what you told yourself in the moment.

But, you did know. You just wanted to deny your ignorance in that moment. You couldn’t deny the late nights, foreign perfume, and lack of affection though. Not even if you wanted to.

Till the very end though, you kept face.

“How lovely, I hope… I—, wish you both the very best.”

The woman gave a quick false smile and said “thank you, but we are trying to celebrate.”

You nodded your head and returned the same smile. You timber spinning on your feet and gearing up to make a beeline for the door. You really couldn’t help yourself though. You threw your head over your shoulder,

“Just remember, he doesn’t like it when you leave the stains in his underwear. You’ll never get them out though, just burn them and buy a new pair!”

And with that, you were through the door. Though it was a small power move, the tears still flooded your vision. It hurt bad. There was a slight downpour, mimicking the feelings you harbored. With no car you had no choice but to keep walking.

The back of your feet were rubbed raw, skin broken and bleeding. The hairstyle you had chosen for that night and no doubt frizzy beyond repair through slight adjustments.

In your emotional haze, the grate on the sidewalk went unnoticed, the back of your heel payed the price. You stopped and removed the shoe, assessing the damage. This small inconvenience on any other day would’ve made you roll your eyes and let out a curse or two. This wasn’t a normal day.

You had broken character. An almost primal shriek left your chest. Something akin to that of a hurt animal. It wasn’t pretty, or poised. It was raw and unfiltered. The scream felt good, exhilarating.

Even with that nice release of emotion, you wanted to go home. You removed both shoes and chucked them as far as you could, sacrificing their beauty, and continuing on your journey back to your very warm and dry house.

A few minutes passed, you were about five minutes away when those headlights creeped up behind you.

You looked back, part of you hoping it was the fool you’d banked on. What he did was unforgivable, yes, but you had nothing else. As the car started to progress a little was past you, you tossed that hope through the window.

“Scuse’ me honey. Why’d ya throw your heels at me?”

You stopped, glaring over at the unidentified stranger,

A simple, “I didn’t,” was all he got out of you.

The car stopped all together. The sound of the door opening put you on edge. A man stopping at this time of night, to return a broken pair of heels? Yea, right. When he rounded his car with your shoes in hand and a smug look on his pretty…face. He looked you up and down and you did the same, wondering who-

Holy shit. Was all you could think. You had thrown your heels, your very broken heels at Elvis Presley.

“Now honey, I’m no shoe salesman, but I’d bet my bottom dollar, that these here fit those pretty little puppies just right. Save for your ankles of course—”

Your shoulders dropped and you held your hand out.

“Please, just give em’ here. Night’s been bad enough, Mr. Presley. I don’t need to be humiliated any further.”

The brunet let out a light chuckle,

“Wanna tell me your name?”

You let out a sigh,

“Y/n.”

“Call me Elvis. And I can see that it’s been a little rough. What happened, honey, date stood ya up?”

You shook your head and decided to humor him,

“No, I found my beau with a different beauty,”

His smile faltered and he parted his lips, no doubt to issue an apology. You continued before he got the chance,

“Which he proposed to…”

His mouth closed, face showing pity. The last part of your confessional came out barley above a whisper,

“On our anniversary.”

Elvis was too stunned to speak, he looked around as if to see if anyone else had heard what you just said. He was in utter disbelief, that someone could wilt a beautiful flower such as yourself.

“I’m sorry honey, I didn’t meant to poke fun at you, just wanted a chance to ask you on a date.”

You could’ve sworn your ears were malfunctioning.

“I’m flattered, but no less than twenty minutes ago, I thought I was getting married. I don’t think it’s a good time—”

Elvis was quick to shake his head,

“No , no I meant to say it wasn’t appropriate. But at least let me drive you home.”

With nothing but tears to lose, you nodded your head and shuffled to the passenger side door, which he kindly opened for you.

The two-minute ride i was silent but not uncomfortable, the radio was at a low volume and the only time you spoke was to give directions.

When you arrived at your small home, you thanked Elvis for the ride. Before you could part, he handed you a slip with his number on it,

“Call when you’re ready for that date, honey.”

Hesitantly, you took the slip and made your way inside.

It was stuffed in a drawer somewhere as you fell into your stupor. For two weeks, you wallowed in self-pity. Fourteen days before you grew a pair. You rummaged though all your kitchen drawers looking for that slip.

It might have been foolish to assume Elvis would still be thinking about you after two weeks, but you still gave it a try.

Your hands trembled as you spun the rotary dial, carefully choosing every number that was on the paper. Receiver against your ear, chewing on your lip.

It rang three times before you’d slammed the phone back on its hook. It was a fruitless idea, there was just no way—

A ring stopped your negative thoughts, it rang twice before you picked it back up. Saying hello and waiting for a response.

“Y/n?” There was a pause. You didn’t know he’d given you his personal number.

“Uh, hello? Honey?…ya there?”

You shook of the surprise,

“Y—yes, uh, yes m’here”

Elvis wouldn’t be Elvis without pointing out the obvious

“So, you’re finally callin’ bout that date?”

You could practically hear the smile in his voice, and with a roll of your eyes, you said yes.

That date turned into ten years of love and a little bit of stress. He got you the prettiest ring, proposed at the prettiest dinner, and gave you the gift of your son.

For once, tears felt good on your face. When you look for reasons to stay with this perfectly imperfect man, you remember,

Those bloody sacrifices.

Taglist: @powerofelvis @rjmartin11 @re3kin

#beeandheroddobsessions #elvis x black reader #elvis fic #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley imagine #elvisaaronpresley #elvis presley #70s elvis

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wehaveimagineshere · 10 months

Note

In Act 3 if you make the deal with Raphael, Gale says "I can't believe you signed that contract. We'll discuss this. Later." Would you please do something NSFW with this as a prompt because it has me feeling things lol

You didn't specify an admin, so I - Ren - will be writing this as a scenario (: You also did not specify reader gender and pronouns, so they'll default to AFAB and she/her.

I tried finding this dialogue but had no luck! I can see why it would make you feel things cause just imagining it myself has me going 👀

~*~*~

The door clicks shut and you inhale slowly, turning your head so you can see Gale. Arms crossed, face as furious as you've ever seen it, you know you're in for the biggest tongue lashing of your life.

"Before you say anything--" you try, but he cuts you off.

"I can't believe you signed that contract! What were you thinking?"

"I--"

"I did not trek halfway across Faerûn to watch you throw your life away to a godsdamn demon. Have you not paid any attention to Wyll? To what he's had to go through?"

You turn to him fully. "Gale--"

"Don't 'Gale' me! I thought you were smarter than this! I thought--"

"Do you have any better ideas?!" you snap, throwing up your hands. "Do you? Do any of you? This gods forsaken Elder Brian is causing the entire city to shake and you think we can just win through friendship and hope?"

"I did not say that--"

"No, but you act like it! Mystra isn't coming to save us, Gale! She wants you to blow yourself up and I hate to say it, but she's the only god that has even deigned to look in our direction!" Throwing your arms wide, you give an aggravated laugh. "Raphael has given us something, a way to kill the damn thing!"

"I would rather die than see you struggle like Wyll!"

"And I would rather get played by a demon than see you turned squid!"

"Do you have any idea what Raphael can do with the crown?"

"I know what won't happen, Gale. Us turning brain eater!" You step forward. "I am trying to not only see to the end of this conflict in one piece, but to see a future beyond it! What Raphael does with the crown in Avernus doesn't matter when he can help secure a life after this!" Gesturing between you, you add, "A life for us!"

The anger pressing against the room pops at that statement. Gale's shoulders slump, pinched expression turning to something soft before he rubs a hand over his face, running fingers through his hair. You exhale heavily, feeling pressure behind your eyes but determined to not let the tears fall.

This was stupid. All of this was stupid.

Crossing to the small desk in the corner of the room, Gale presses his palms against the rough wood and exhales heavily. "It is such a dangerous game, isn't it?" His voice is quiet, reserved. "We put one foot just one centimeter to the left and we all fall to our doom."

"I just want us alive, Gale." You swallow down the tightening of your throat, the tears stinging your eyes. "I never wanted to have the fate of an old, dangerous crown in my hands. I don't have the capacity to see the consequences of what could happen hundreds of years from now. But I know if I don't do something right now, we're dead. More than dead."

"I know." His eyes are locked onto the grooves of the table. "I know."

Slowly, you move to stand behind him. Slowly, you lay a hand between his shoulder blades. "We know where Raphael keeps all his things. Including that contract."

You feel his chest expand with an inhale. "You want to steal your contract?"

"And tear it up. The object I bartered for is in there too."

Straightening, he turns to you, a range of emotions dancing in his eyes. "You are absolutely crazy. I mean, I know you've been for a while now, but..."

Looping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against his, you say softly against his lips, "Anything for our future, Gale."

A sound you've never heard before leaves his throat as he crushes his lips to yours, fingertips digging into your hips and roughly pushing them against his own. You respond in kind, nipping his bottom lip as you grind gently, smiling when you feel him through his clothing.

"You scare me, you know," he breathes, breath tickling your throat as he nips down your skin. "You're wild, and unpredictable." His teeth find your collarbone, sending a shiver straight down your spine, raising the heat between your legs. "I never know if you're a fool or playing a game of chess even I can't make heads or tails of."

His palms find your ass and squeeze, dragging a surprised yelp from you. Silencing your sound with his lips, he uses his grip to situate yourself perfectly as he grinds hard, up and down right against that nerve that makes you see stars.

Your hands slip under his robe, finding skin as you cling to him, already losing control as you meet his thrusts. Your pants are too much and too little, you want them off now but love the teasing, that delicious build in your stomach. Gale has never been so forceful, so demanding, and you tuck an internal sloppy note into your brain to rile him up more often.

His hands finally tug on the rim of your pants and you're quick to help, tossing them to the side as he hefts you onto the table, one hand up your shirt with fingers teasing a nipple as another frees his himself.

No playing this time around as he bites your bottom lip hard, sheathing himself in one quick thrust. Wrapping your legs around him, you urge him in deeper as he starts moving, a punishing pace that sends your heart skyrocketing, your moans loud as he claims you, the frustration from earlier riding his every movement.

You meet his pace just as fiercely, fingers tangling in his hair as he hits that spot again and again, not giving you time to breathe as the pleasure becomes nigh unbearable. You're close, so so close, just as he pauses, all movement coming to a halt.

You whimper, moving your hips for that last bit of friction needed to drive you over the edge, but his fingers dig in hard on your hips, keeping you in place. "Gale." His name is at once foreign and familiar in your lust hazed brain, focus solely on how right he feels even paused within you.

"Promise me," he pants, placing his forehead against yours, shifting ever so slightly to make you gasp. To beg. "You'll stop doing stupid things that scare me."

"I promise, I promise." You'd say anything to get him moving again, and he knows this.

"I have your word?"

"Yes," you plead. "Yes."

"Say it."

"You have my wo--"

He swallows your lies as he buries himself deep, swallows your gasp as he finally allows your release, holds you together as you shatter beneath him.

He rides out your orgasm. Slow, gentle thrusts as you piece yourself back together. As you realize that he hasn't followed you yet into ecstasy.

As you realize it's going to be a long night.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 gale #gale x reader #gale/reader #bg3 gale/reader #bg3 gale x reader #smut

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promptcontainmentzone · 8 months

Text

FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS SENTENCE STARTERS. warnings for: guns, violence, death, murder.

What in the goddamn…?

Let's keep this in the groove, hey? Smooth moves, like smooth little babies...

Baby, the odds may look long, but that's just because we ain't done rigging them. I won't toss the dice until we are.

Look, I ain't a harbor for illusions. I ain't expecting to get out of this shin-dig alive.

Can you spell detention? I'll tell you how I spell it: DEATHtention.

You are in the LIBRARY. Be quiet here and filled with SHHHHH.

I am lord of this institution. Where once, long ago, I was a student here. Now, I am its OMNIPOTENT GOD-PRINCIPAL.

______, you're about to have your FAVORITE treat - a VISITOR. Won't that be nice? DON'T eat the visitor, boy. Don't. Please.

What YOU ask is of NULL importance! _____ besieges us, there are more important things to worry about than DATA and FACTS!

ENOUGH! Stop filling my precious brain cell units with irrelevant data!

And… I wonder why it didn't hit me before, until I saw that memory in your hands.

How gracious of you. A mannerly killing.

Can't have brains moving around of their own volition.

In short: Brains, a heart, and courage... spine. I think there was a story once where a band of murderous thugs sought these things.

The ghosts aren't real? That changes everything.

Baby, this little reunion of ours? Chalk me up as a no-show.

I'm familiar with the care and handling of explosives.

How hard can it be? Just light them and throw.

I'd love to debate you on this, but there's no time.

No way. I'm not going to torch myself for your amusement.

It would be pretty funny, wouldn't it? Oh, don't look at me that way. I'm sure you'll be fine.

_____ is dead - what a mess you've made!

There will be no repeat of the trouble we had last time, I trust?

Even now? On the brink of battle?

You'll need a disguise, then. Or overwhelming firepower. Whatever works.

You must be, like… a brain in a jar!

Frontal assaults on casinos? Not good for business.

You have an interest in this even if you're too stupid to know it. If you have an interest in breathing, you have an interest in this.

They have no idea what other cards I'm holding. It's a strong hand, believe me - I dealt it to myself.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It'd be like them to keep paperwork.

I don't have friends here.

We'll kill more with two of us.

You only trust strangers?

Besides. I was on break when it happened.

I want you to find something out for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try.

Gonna be hard covering you when I can't move my legs.

Goddamn it! Don't sneak up on me like that. What do you want?

Let me aim that for you next time.

You're hiding something. Spit it out. You owe me.

You got no right asking me that. Drop it.

It's just something I'm not ready to discuss. With you or anybody.

That part of my life is over now. So is this discussion.

Must've been one hell of a miscommunication.

Yeah, well. That's how they wrote it up in the report.

Life has a way of punishing you for the mistakes you make. Big enough mistake, punishment can take a while.

You're like a switchblade stuck on flick.

Shhhh… we're hunting shitheads.

All this planning won't matter much when the bullets fly, anyway.

No sense trying to hold the past between your fingers when it's nothing but dirt.

That fucking monument outside?

Started? Took to it like a fish to water... well, if you know what a fish is.

What the hell is a fish?

They're like birds, except they stay underwater.

Anyway, I've seen pictures. One guy even had one above his bar in Redding, except it was made of Pre-War plastic.

Greetings, _____. The disappointment you are about to experience delights me.

Can I order room service?

Am I punching too much? I get carried away.

You mean like this melee weapon right here in my hand at this very second?

Are you talking to me, or a future _____ who is not already doing that?

He always does what he feels is right. Usually that's a great quality.

Sure, I left them. But that didn't mean I'd ever be free of them.

We always make enemies, never allies.

Hold on. I see something I want to punch.

But at least I got the chance to try. At least I know for sure that there was nothing I could do.

Wow, _____ is looking for you, huh? What do you think he wants? Bowling partner?

But… you don't have a "this is good news" expression on your face.

Well, welcome, then. I'm _____. I live in a hole in the ground.

Well that shouldn't be a problem for me. I can't afford anything like that.

I've heard they shoot lasers from their eyes.

I just kind of drift from place to place.

I'll be honest. You're the first person I've run across out here that looks like she can really handle herself.

Aw, you really know how to make a girl feel like a stray cat.

He was dead when I got there.

This better not be about the meaning of life.

Damn, son, you look like ten miles of bad road.

Are you following me?

I saved your life so I kinda feel responsible for you is all.

I'll let that slide seeing how you gotta mind full of vengeance for that no-good polecat and all.

Yup, but this is getting a might embarrassing - people are going to start to talk.

That's a puzzle, all right. I'm sure it's nothing.

What in tarnation was you thinkin'?

I'll thank you not to touch my plunder.

Meaner than a rattlesnake, ain't ya?

To the Bone Orchard you go!

Seems they made like a ghost.

Won't help you none to lay low.

The Boss is pretty clear on this. I can't let you in unless you're by your lonesome.

You did a super job wrapping things up! And I'm not just saying that because I have to!

Here's a print-out with some additional information!

What? Did you expect me to applaud your efforts to support a deranged warlord?

That wig is going to haunt my nightmares. Seriously.

That one… had a little kick to it. The poisonous kind of kick.

Ahh, that feels better. I might not die for a while yet.

Am I dead? Is this Heaven? Oh. Hi _____. Guess not.

Will the medical wonders of the post-apocalyptic world never cease?

Back to the tomb, I suppose. If you need me, et cetera.

Strange how dead bodies appear wherever you go.

As the old saying goes, two's company, but three's a small army. Okay, I'm paraphrasing a bit, but you get the idea.

Wait, wait, wait a second. What's going on? Am I playing Vergil to your Dante?

I've woken up worse places. Not many, though.

That's sounding dangerously close to a plan, _____.

Alrighty then, I'll just head out. Alone. By myself. Into the dangerous wastes.

If I buy it out there, I want twelve mariachi bands playing at my funeral. A medal might be nice, too.

I'm not exactly a mercenary, but taking out scumbags of this magnitude wouldn't cause me to lose any sleep.

Why don't you make like Odysseus and get lost?

For as lack of adornment is said to become some women, so will this place, without your presence, bring delight.

I've run out of witty ways to tell you to leave, so why don't you just go?

#sentence starters #guns /#violence /#death /#alcohol /

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hopeymchope · 1 year

Text

The Legend of Zelda and shipping

I can't understand people who are like "I only ship Link in every game with one single character ever." What the hell... HOW?!

This seems to be most most common with people who ship Zelda/Link or "Zelink" — always wanting every Zelda to be with Link, because they're the main characters, though the phenomenon does exist with Malink and some other ships as well. And that’s not to hate on Zelink and Malink, because I love them! SPECIFIC INCARNATIONS of them, I mean.

Because there are a bare minimum of EIGHT different incarnations of Link, and you can’t tell me you think every single dude named Link has chemistry with/should have romance with every single girl named Zelda. Like EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.? I just can't with that. It's unfathomable, IMO.

I mean, OKAY, let me back that up: I get that people find it romantic to think that these are like... some kind of soulmates who always find each other through every reincarnation ala Hawkman and Hawkgirl or something, but it's not like they even display the same personality traits or share memories or something in each version of themselves. They just... act like totally different people quite regularly. Because by all accounts, they are.

Furthermore... shit - if we assume the incarnations are all descendants of one another and the same descendancy lines keep hooking up with the same partner lines, at what point do we wind up becoming dangerously incestuous with this repeated pairing? Because that shit seems INEVITABLE in such a case…?

NAH, my fam — I believe each Link and each Zelda are their own person, with their own traits. Their only unifying truth is that every person Link will ALWAYS look best in a green tunic and matching green, pointy flop-hat. (Sorry; I don't make the rules. Facts is facts.)

With that in mind, these are my sundry ships for various Links. And I apologize in advance for the fact that they're all boringly het. :P

Skyward Sword — Zelink, absolutely. Childhood Friend Romance always gets me right in the heart. I love these two together. The casual playfulness and fondness they display. The lengths they'll go to in order to see each other/protect each other. And although Zelda loses some of her distinct personality when she learns she's a reincarnation of Hylia, she gets her groove back near the end, so it's all good.

Ocarina of Time/Majora's Mask/SC2 — Malink with a bullet. The singing farmgirl and the boy without a fairy, two people who felt alone in the world and find each other. The nicknames! "Don't be long, fairy boy." The fact that you can declare your romantic intentions for Malon while you're still a fucking KID! The Gossip Stone that tells you how much Malon pines to be saved from her daily life by a hero on a horse! It's SO GOOD.

Wind Waker/Phantom Hourglass — I'm only mentioning this era because this Link is an ACTUAL CHILD. He's like, what? EIGHT? Maybe ten, if we're feeling generous? So I just want to say: Yeah... I just can't bring myself to ship this literal child with anybody. It ain't RIGHT.

Link's Awakening — Marink. If you weren't feeling these two by the time their sunset beach conversation wrapped up, I don't know what to even say to you. This was probably my first serious ship from playing the TLoZ games. Plus this ship is a good reason why the original black-and-white Game Boy version's secret ending is actually the best version of that bonus scene.

Twilight Princess — Ilink. Is there even any other contender worth mentioning? The writing and direction of the cut scenes makes it pretty clear that Link and Ilia are sweet on each other. You barely even meet Zelda in this game, and the only other option would probably be, well... Midna? You know - your partner imp that spends most of the game trash-talking you for her personal lulz and repeatedly slamming her body weight down HARD onto your spine? Mm, I’ll pass.

youtube

Breath of the Wild/Age of Calamity/TotK — Miphlink/Miphalink, no items, FINAL DESTINATION. Their story makes my heart just ACHE. The flashback to Mipha healing him up... Mipha's diary (OMFG that diary)... the Zora armor and its descriptions... holy SHIT, fam. And even if that story DIDN'T melt me into a complete puddle, Zelda put herself out of consideration by stealing my fucking house. I don’t understand why she pulled that, but given her privileged upbringing, I doubt she understands the value/expense of home ownership. So maybe she thought this was like yoinking a french fry. :P

Haven't Played — The only major entry I haven't played yet is "Spirit Tracks" on the DS. So I can't speak to that incarnation at this point. But the two things I can say is A) The Zelda/Link relationship sure appears cute? but B) This is also the same style of Link seen in Wind Waker, so I won't be surprised if she's supposed to be a LITERAL CHILD again (and therefore not a shippable character for me).

#tloz #the legend of zelda #linkshipping #link #zelink #malink #marink #ilink #miphalink #miphlink

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choco-pudding · 2 years

Photo

Space Channel 5 Part 2: Sugoku Sugoi Guide Book p. 118-125 (Translation by @lavoszero and myself. Edits and typesetting by myself)

Second part of Report 5.

Imgur link to all of the Sugoku Sugoi Guide Book translations we’ve done thus far.

Plain text below.

p. 118

Shadows シャドーズ

Lv.10 Groove 113

Right Right Chu- Chu- Chu- Chu- Chu

p. 119

Hey! [2] Hup [3] Ho! [4] Hyahh, moro! [5] Yah!

Lv.10 Groove 114

Up Down Up Down Chu Chu Chu

p. 120 Mystery Zone · Back Room A

Playing

Ulala’s Stars: 12 This is where we had our pandemonic showdown with The Shadows. As usual, excluding when it’s time for Ulala's "Chu" or "Hey," you can use any of the directional buttons for your inputs. Pressing different combinations of directions makes for an even flashier performance. After this battle, we got a peek at Shadow's true face; to think he was an ally all along…

“Battle of the Bands!”

021 ⬇ ⬇ x x 022 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x x 023 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x x x 024 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x

025 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 026 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 027 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 028 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 029 ⬇ ⬇ x x x

Lv. 4 Groove 115

Up Down Up Down Woof Woof Woof

p. 121

030 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x x x 031 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ o o o 032 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ o o o 033 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x o x

9. Timed Chu

034 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 035 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 036 ⬇ ⬇ x 037 ⬇ ⬇ x 038 ⬇ ⬇ x 039 ⬇ x 040 o o 041 o o 042 o o 043 o o 044 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x

Pine Comment: After set [39], there’ll be some quick "hey, hey" exchanges, but it'll switch back to directional inputs at set [44]. It's pretty easy to get struck on the previous pattern and continue pressing "hey, hey" by accident.

“Couldn’t you buy me just a lil’ more time?”

Lv. 4 Groove 116

Left Left Right Right Woof Woof Woof

p. 122 Mystery Zone · Back Room B

Ulala’s Stars: 7 Time for the climactic shooting game of Which One is the Real One. During sets [45] ~ [48], the real one is easy to spot since he looks and sounds different, but after set [49], we had to identify—and rescue—the real one by his pose. This Jaguar guy left a bad first impression on me, but we still worked together for one last "whoo."

“Time for a game! Think ya can spot the real one?”

10.

“Which one of us doesn’t belong?” 045 “Which one of them doesn’t belong?” ⬆ x x x x o “Which one is the real one?” 046 “Which one is the real one?” ⬆ x x o x x

11.

047 ⬆ x x x o x 048 ⬆ o x x x x

Lv. 4 Groove 117

Up- U- Uh- Up Woof Woof Woof

p. 123

12.

049 ⬆ x o x x x 050 ⬆ x x x x o 051 ⬆ x o x x x 052 ⬆ x x x o x 053 ⬆ x x o x x 054 ⬆ x x x x o

Tchalaalaa Fu! [6]

Lv. 4 Groove 118

Right Left Right Left Woof Woof Woof

p. 124 Pudding’s Interview? About Ulala’s Weakness, the Space Pirates, & Jaguar

…My blood type is AB, my specialty is knowing the latest gossip, five years ago I used to just be an idol, but I decided to become a reporter. One of my hobbies is riding around on my space bike. Wondering if that’s all I have to say? I’m all done talking about myself, so I guess I’ll go home now. (A minute later)… Fine, fine, since you’re fussing so much, I’ll stay in the interview room. It’s like I’m a prisoner here. Huh? You want me to talk about Ulala and Jaguar? Tch, so that’s what you want to know. You should’ve said that from the start so I wouldn’t have rushed to give my profile information. That’s way more interesting. Now I’m upset. (The hosts bring in one of her favorite foods, kuzumochi) Oh, well now, that’s smart of you. Fine, I guess I’ll tell you about them. Alright, this gives you 20 minutes, after that, I’m leaving.

About Ulala A while back, then…Ulala was…Ah, just the other day I was tricked into advertising for Channel 5, but I didn’t know it was for them at the time… Even though it was for our own publicity too, I can’t believe we were promoting our rival station of all things…That has to be one of the biggest regret I’ve ever had in my entire life… Pretty shocking, huh? Not only that, but I even lost the guitar duel, I was sure I was gonna win that. Double the shock there. If this keeps on happening, I’m going to have to do everything in my power to get Ulala to lose ratings for Channel 5!

Well, I know all of Ulala’s weakness, so if I need to fight her, I’ll be prepared~. What, you wanna know them, too? Hmm, Ulala’s weaknesses. She’s afraid of deafening silence. I guess drifting all alone in a spaceship accident was very traumatic for her since she was so little. But this weakness could be fading; the scars on people’s hearts can heal. Anyway, I know a way more direct weakness! Spicy things. Things like space wasabi, space mustard, and spices, she can’t handle any of those. Teeheehee. I wonder, what kind of trick should I pull to get her to eat something with space wasabi?

Lv. 4 Groove 120

Right Right Righ- Righ- Woof Woof Woof

p. 125

Her favorite food is roasted space duck so maybe I’ll make it and season it with a good amount of the spices under the skin. It’d be delicious… (looks off into the distance absentmindedly for about 47 seconds). Ah, I made myself drool. Hehe.

And then there’s Jaguar, I’d call that a weakness, too… heh (couldn’t stop laughing for 1 minute and 9 seconds). Jaguar is a person Ulala admires (old news). Well, Ulala throws a tantrum like a little kid if I even sneer at her, I could lure her out with just Jaguar’s name, then prank her or whatever, but I’m not gonna do that. I’m not that mean!!

About Jaguar Well, speaking of Jaguar, he’s honestly really cool. Especially since he’s the leader of the Space Pirate Broadcasting Station (a group that goes around in the Space Pirate ship, Bad Tuning, and broadcasts all over the galaxy. Naturally, they’re all space pirates). He’s a man, who no matter what happens, always seeks the truth. I guess you can call him irresistible, right! Hehe. Oh, also, don’t mention that I drooled earlier… If you do my reputation will be ruined! By the way, apparently he looks like the person who saved Ulala, when she was all alone during that one accident. He’s the dashing type of guy that’s always coming and going like the wind, and always comes to help even if you don’t ask for it.

There’s a lot of rumors going around about his past too, like that he went into hiding ‘cause someone wanted the those connected to reporting that accident out of the picture, some say he used to be a reporter for Channel 5, but others say he wasn’t. Or that he was just a random man that happened to be there during the time of the incident. With Channel 5 under new management now, there’s even newer rumors about him springing up. Like that the Space Pirate Broadcasting Station was really made to get revenge against Channel 5. It must be kinda nice to have that kind of popularity, it’s like Ulala and Jaguar are the stars of a Space Romance. Ah, anyway, was there anything else I needed to talk about…?

[Translator’s notes: by “out of the picture” he means end his career for ever. Basically have him blacklisted (or worse). Space Romance as in the genre.]

Lv. 4 Groove 120

Up Down Down Woof Woof Woof

#space channel 5 #Space Channel 5 part 2 #Sugoku Sugoi Guide Book #shadow #jaguar #ulala #translations

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bitchlessdino · 1 year

Note

as my favorite dinonara, how do u feel abt chan fucking you to i don't understand but ily AND also murmuring the lyrics in your ear as he's thrusting into you???

An: Just read the eng lyrics and in accurate fashion, imagined it happening in Korean 😭 Personally, I’d walk into a burning building bc I’m already feeling hot from Chan 🥲🥲 (First instinct: why are you being unoriginal and using your lyrics at me???) Also these lyrics are roughly translated and restructured to make sense and annotated for my amusement

DNI INTERACT MINORS

When I saw you, the room stopped and my senses heighten. Only seeing you made my insides jealous of what I was seeing (And not feeling stgdhfjf)

*thrust* lol.

(Zoom) on your heavy scent, I'm more afraid that it will get erased in between thе dizzy words (yeah bc it’s such a good fuck 😭)

Biting your ear, caressing your body, plunging himself inside you. Already drunk on the power you held over him. He’s afraid to slur the words you already couldn’t understand.

No matter languages or times, you don't have to understand any of it. Just the password between us. It’ll open us both (literally and figuratively)(having a secret language with your partner whom speaks another language. Fuck )

Hands smoothing over your hot cheeks, drinking in your whimpers, your moans, his name of your lips but that sinfully beautiful way that made him want to fuck inside you deeper, harder. He catches the shedding tears under his thumb. (His name just happened to be one of the passwords)

With all the words that exists in the world its enough for just the two of us to know my greed for you. My growing feelings for you. (The way I would fucking collapse)

He'd pin you back on the bed, momentarily in control of you and his senses, until they slid over your palms and fingers are laced through yours. His grunts and moans embedded between each thick and intoxicating phrase was the only thing you could understand, but like he said, it was enough.

You know, there are more important things than words between us, right? (The way I would be alive and crying out of my p—)

The way it’s phrased as a question makes you impulsively nod. You could be signing a slave deal but it’d be fine also as it’d be with Chan and only Chan.

Look at it with your eyes closed. Feel you and me. Not bound by time or day…Us both together anywhere. (Anywhere anytime Chan I am here 👁️👁️)

Chan could hardly understand what he was saying but in the moment it’s how he felt, how you felt, how the world around you felt. He grinds down on hips, digging into and fragility of you slowing but surely coming apart for him. Liquid gold seeped through both you crevices, sweat of your skin sweet and salt as their stripped from his tongue gingerly. You whine a mess, throat flexing in real time as you tried staying focus on him, only him.

Even though I don't understand, I can know you

Somehow you know it too. His kisses sometimes delicate then turning ravenously, and you feel his teeth scrap over your pebbles skin before they create uneven grooves shaping into the perfect mark. For you, only you.

The language barrier is just an illusion. (This lmao gives me love talk vibes ‘ I can hear you calling’) You know that I also don't believe myself but you still believed in me

There was a time where you thought you were from two different worlds and didn’t expect to build a connection, yet here you were. Languages exchanged. Foreign words going to one ear and out the other. But somehow, someway, it all couldn’t be more crystal clear. The support system you found in one another what’s all you need to understand. And you found that clear hearing him, feeling him, tasting him tend to your to your every need.

Only inside of you I can bloom spreading my fire (EXCUSE MEEEE THE SAY I SCREAMED BTW ‘only inside you’ is a direct translation WTF)

You’re mumbling at this point, mind in a haze from tsunami of your climax, contorting you in his long, rooted thrusts as he’s bottoming out in you. His body crushes your body and your soul, aching to giving yourself to him in its entirety. There wasn’t a damn thing in the world that could tell you otherwise. His hands against you were pure magic, unattainable anywhere else, and his sweet lower timber touches every patch of your skin, making you hot with need. Even after you’ve succumb to one orgasm. He’s ready for another, and plentiful to give you until your body gives out for days just as he’s felt starved for days, weeks, years.

Chan’s not sure if you’re speaking in your language or if you were just that fucked by his raging, warmth inside you. He leans in again, face close, kissing you as desperate as you feel and finally in a language you do comprehend,

I don’t understand but I love you…I love you (there’s so much to unpack here, but yes, I’ll marry you)

This was so much fun!!! I’ve never done this before but I’m down to do it again! Also he’ll is especially hot for elv that put these rot thots in my head.

#svthub #Dino smut #seventeen smut #Dino #lee chan smut #seventeen #elv 💕💕💕💕#seventeen dino #asks #elv asks

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quinnsteria · 6 months

Text

Hoy Quarlow/Super Macho Man (MachoQuarlow) Headcanons 1/?

Citing this as part one in the title because I don’t trust myself not to talk about them more. Anyway this is just my insane scribblings about these old men since this ship has been rotting in my brain for months and I need to share them with the world

Anyway. Let’s begin with some background:

Hoy Quarlow is the age he’s said to be in the game: 78 years old

Super Macho Man is lying about his age. He’s not 27 but is instead approaching his early 60’s. He lies about it because, like a lot of typical big stars, he doesn’t want to be seen as older in fear of being discarded and out of the industry’s spotlight.

Hoy Quarlow and Super Macho Man joined the WVBA (Side Note: in my au it’s called the World Video Boxing Association because it was the first association to both broadcast the fights live, but also to package and sell recordings of the fights to consumers) around the same time. Although they weren’t there at the very-very beginning of the WVBA’s formation (since my au takes place in the current year and the timeline would be messed up), they’re both older so they were there before any of the other current boxers.

Hoy came from another boxing league but joined the WVBA once he realized his old league was very stingy on his paychecks. Because of the money the WVBA produced from both the recording sales and how much money they raked in for allowing the boxers to be as theatric as they wanted.

Although his hard work and determination led him to rising in the ranks, his sales were low. So, he studied what made boxers among him so popular: their personas. So, Hoy decided to also stretch his creative muscles too. He upped the ante and straight up brought a stick into the ring. It became a Hoy Quarlow staple. That, and the fact that he started to ditch the shorts and shirtless look to take on something with more personality.

Super Macho Man came in with that name all while being a scrawny kid. Believe it or not, but for a good while, SMM was considered a Glass Joe figure when he first started. When he got in the groove though and started upping his gains, he quickly rose in the ranks and grew into the name he gave himself.

He originally joined the WVBA because he wanted to be a movie star, anticipating that the sales of the WVBA recordings will get more eyes on him and he’d be recruited on for actual movies and not just fights. However, as he started to fight more, he became happier with the spectacle of being a WVBA boxer and the fame he gained, deciding to make his main goal staying at the top and not so much appearing in movies (although he’ll absolutely take a movie deal when offered).

Hoy and Macho were sorta aggressive to each other at first. Hoy, still riding high from his placement in his past league, looked down on a lot of other boxers. This is a character flaw that, of course, got resolved later in life (we can see this with how he acts with Birdie in the SNES Super Punch-Out!!), but it was definitely a flaw he had in life at one point. He saw Macho as full of himself and not yet having the skill to back it up. He correctly guessed that Macho was doing this for fame and judged him accordingly, seeing it as an unfit reason for joining the WVBA.

Macho saw Hoy as full of himself as well. He thought Hoy needed to get over himself and stop being so “needlessly mean.” Macho knew his pursuit wasn’t noble, but to him, it didn’t matter. He was so full of himself to pre-set his persona with actually being this, well…. a super macho man. He believed he’d grow into the name (which he did). He found it stupid how Hoy was only about a decade older and he was judging Macho this hard. Macho would often tell him straight up that one day, Hoy would be eating his words and watching Macho rise while Hoy himself sank down the ranks. This is only… uh… half true.

Right now, Macho and Hoy and right next to each other in the Special Circuit. Macho is Rank #1, right before Mr. Sandman (The WVBA Champion). Hoy is Rank #2 in the Special Circuit, right before Super Macho Man.

As they both aged, Macho and Hoy started to get along. With Hoy becoming sillier and way more relaxed, he was able to connect with Macho more. With Macho getting more full of himself, Hoy sorta saw himself in him and although he has fun with him, is trying to guide him away from the lonely life that being that high in ranks can bring. There’s all these camera flashes and people will be all over you and asking for deals, but they don’t love you.

OKAY… now that that’s over, I’ll be putting more headcanons under the cut. It’ll be more shippy, but it’ll still work as a “background section” if that makes sense that outlines their life together. I think this post should be in general about their background. Okay… cool.

I think Macho was kinda mixed up about his feelings for Hoy. Their relationship was definitely simmering for years, real rivals to fun friendly rivalry to friends to lovers. Macho never expected to fall for Hoy at all, and when he did, he didn’t know how to feel. He wondered what it’d be like to date another league member. Could he do that? What would the press do? Would the gossip magazines make Hoy look like a cougar… 🤨? Either way, he was nervous.

What also adds to it is that Macho is a pretty famous playboy. If he starts actually dating long-term (which he… actually kinda wants to explore with Hoy), how would that affect his reputation? With all these worries involving insecurities from outsiders, he was definitely indecisive with what he wanted to do. Hoy on the other hand… had different problems.

I fully subscribe to the “Hoy is Dragon Chan’s grandparent” headcanon. Hoy’s wife (aka Dragon Chan’s grandma, was married. They had a daughter who, just like her son, was a very determined kickboxer. She fell in love with Dragon’s father and they soon had a son, Dragon Chan. However, one fateful day, when Dragon was about 10 or so, his parents died in a fatal car accident (or at least that’s what my explanation is right now). Years later, Hoy’s wife died as well. She had a heart attack, although many say it was onset by a broken heart.

Dragon Chan, after getting kicked out of his kickboxing league while trying to live up to his mother’s legacy, joined the WVBA and gave him a place there. Dragon became popular quickly, and his ego became bigger (this is supported by his overconfidence in the ring and in pre fight rounds alongside his “chicken dance taunt” when he KO’s/TKO’s you). Dragon’s behavior only slightly reminds Hoy of his own ego at that age, and Hoy, although still giving advice to his grandson, knows that Dragon needs to discover his own path to humbleness.

Okay back to the tragedy of Hoy’s wife, daughter, and son-in-law. These tragedies caused Hoy to feel as if death followed him and anyone he loves. He blamed himself for all of their deaths, even if he had nothing to do with them. He was afraid to love again and to make another family, although this attitude is usually hidden by his now lighthearted personality.

Of course, this caused Hoy’s love life to become… confused I guess? Hoy was deathly worried of his family hurting even more. He was also worried for Dragon Chan, believing that there’s a chance he’d be mad that Hoy is trying to “replace” his grandma and pretend she never existed. Of course, Dragon doesn’t really care for that. His problem arises with Hoy’s dating choices when he realizes that it’s Super Macho Man of all people that Hoy is dating like huh that jerk grandpa? That loser? Cmon

I’ll probably elaborate on this in another post but the beef between Dragon Chan and Super Macho Man is so special to me. It’s like a family movie where the kid doesn’t like their new step-dad except the kid is a 22 year old grandchild who can actually kick Macho’s ass if he wanted to (and he does)

I think the first person to actually make a move was Super Macho Man. Macho was able to catch Hoy in the locker room after a fight and he asked Hoy if he would like to “hang out” sometime together, outside of WVBA mixers or some other thing, of course.

Hoy found it cute. He sorta laughed softly at it at first before he saw Macho’s dejected face. He realized it was genuinely series and he kinda flushed. Definitely went kinda quiet with an “O…Oh,” before trying to think of what to say next.

He agrees by the way. Though I think in another post I’ll elaborate

Annddddd that’s all I have for now! Thank you for reading and I’m sorry it was so long! These guys have been in my head for a bit now woah

#punch out #hoy quarlow #super macho man #machoquarlow #dragon chan #sorry for the ramblings I’m insane #quinn speaks #long post

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munamania · 8 months

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not to sit here and weave a story out of nothing like a little protagonist via my quirky online storytelling but i rekindled my friendship with sam who is such an interesting person there are just a lot of stories of all sorts and this is funny timing but truly we just fell into such an easy banter this past class so we were like omg lets hang right so. his roommate really is just like stupid hot right. i could get corny with it but i wont. a face sculpted by the hands of god though. all this prefaced i will now tell u an absolutely nothing story and i really mean that read at your own discretion ((A/N: trust and believe i yapped. putting under keep reading to be somewhat forgivable) (i am not in my best of states rn. okay.)

anyway so we're chillin in sams room im getting caught up on the latest construction projects and shit.. one thing abt sam hes always up to something. they've got an entire work desk #butchrealness. then i hear some singing out in the hallway but from where im sitting cant actually see anyone so convo just goes sam and roommate 'hey' 'hey' and then i peeked my little head out and waved and said hey and they stopped and set down their basket and said 'Hey' and then i did not introduce myself (flop) (combo of cramped room and sam talking and me being wildly awkward) (also keep in mind i dont know if this person has swiped left on me or not been on tinder or if theyd even recognize me anyway and hating that that's even a situation bc i hate that stupid app but just hoping worst case scenario i dont come off as an insane stalker but rather a victim of circumstance) but they just chatted for a sec abt whatever shelf sam needs to fix and that was that. and then they went back to humming which was cute or whatever

to set the next scene we're down in the kitchen and sams cooking and this is a while after we took his homemade gummies so im not rlly high per se but chillin and something about the noise and setup in their kitchen is so overstimulating for me lol when shes cooking im just like frozen. i always offer to help but he always just gets in a groove it's best i dont intervene. one time he had to tell me to go sit down in the other room bc i was freakin out a little lol

so im perched on this single high chair they have in the kitchen right next to their washer and dryer as sams whipping up some food and im kind of obnoxiously saying Unfortch in response to a story he was telling me and he gives me a look so im like UnfortunateLy. and then hes like 'psh i know unfortch i live with this guy' cue roommate strollin in with laundry and theyre just like Whaat and sam explains and theyre like Oh ofc you gotta know unfortch or whatever. forgot to mention that earlier in sams room they said three similar abbreviated words in a row just during a normal sentence and it caught me so off guard i wanted to giggle. so naturally my brain is going through Immediate social response of a semi awk laugh or quippy remark about that but also theyre literally like a foot away from me and im largely nonverbal atm lmfaoo so i just mumble smth to try and go along w the bit but then trailed off cause i was like wtf am i even saying. brain was overloaded

and then i was like um. i literally was just staring around doing fuck all like a perched bird or something but i was fighting a war in my mind of like ok do i introduce myself or look to sam to do so or do we not do that or is that rude idk but also they have headphones on one ear and are doing all their laundry shit and i once again dont want to be like overbearing but also well come on now we gotta feel out the vibe (and i do a great job here.) idk so im like Ok dont just look at them but dont Not look at them just behave like a normal person. you know. the usual. sam comes over to give me a bit of bread with balsamic vinegar and oil and i spilled it on my sweater fuck this stupid baka life (didnt really show. but still they were right there..)

and so after a min of this they were kinda like awkward laugh 'dont mind me' and i once again was very self conscious and had several things that wanted to come out 'not at all' 'dont mind me' 'it's your house' 'these all sound awful abby' then i got anxious that i was in the way the whole time but they were almost done and if i got into a weird apology thing well i would have had to kill myself so i just once again kind of uttered something that would have sounded like 'youresogoodicanmovetoo' and also 'sorry if i just keep like looking over at you' WTF IS THAT SHIT. FUMBLE BOOOOO and my follow up was essentially nothing cause i couldnt decide if i should say 'im just a bit out of it/high' 'im easily distracted (kys)' 'idk what to do w myself haha' 'im useless in the kitchen' (not entirely true) i mean just a few minutes before sam and i had talked about how ill just wander around peoples rooms and observe things to avoid feeling awkward and it's just how i am and so i was kinda just doing that due to the nerves of the sitch but there was only so much to look at. and i just sat there. offputting realness. whatever. so. straight face emoji. and that was mostly the extent of that i dont remember what they said in response just like a lil laugh or w/e. probably couldnt hear my stupid ass mumbling. so im thinking my chances of charming them at all are really stellar

if you read all this i want you to just take note that the events depicted here could not have been more than 3-4 minutes collectively. and yet the yap goes on..

for future reference, what did we learn? probably best to just continue convo with sam, excuse urself to br, or perhaps even attempt a conversation w them if ever in a similar situation again and they talk to you first again. also stop inventing complicated situations in ur head chill the hell out. idiot. says the bitch with the anxiety disorder. feel free to egg me on or tell me to fuck off ok xoxoxoxxo love u

#abby talks #i just have such a rich inner world

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faithfromanewperspective · 1 year

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remember being in a horrid shitty mood catching the bus back to my parents, thinking, if they just painted a bus lane on the fucking road my journey could take less than 45 minutes and be way more reliable. wondering why it isn't there, the infrastructure, surely i could afford the jail time if i just went out there and built it, they wouldn't tear it down right? footpaths and shit. cause it's still a pretty rural area. instead i'm sitting on the bus destroying my mental health, no wonder i feel better having moved out of the area, when every car that cuts in front of us and all the traffic we can't just zoom past feels like a personal put-down, an insult to my way of life that i've chosen because it's better for all of us, not just me.

and realising, when my head's out of the constant frustration of it having moved out to somewhere walkable, i can see it 'above the trees' if you will that i can whine and bitch about it all i can (and believe me i have) but any change like the one i want, is political. we do this for the city, we as the whole city do it together. of course it would be good, say the 3+ million of us living in greater brisbane, soon to be 4, 5, 6, 7 million in the leadup to 2032 and after, but it's the tragedy of the commons isn't it? my priority, say 3+ million minus one self-supporting adult in this soon-to-be megacity, is getting to work every day and putting food on the table. i've never had that strong of a survival drive, I'd rather do the right thing and invest my choices into something that makes for a better city than be able to work or eat but when it comes to my mental health? sometimes you've gotta learn the hard way, some things you can't change, and it's not worth losing everything over. you can't think if you're exposing yourself constantly to what's fucking up your brain like if i punished myself for the inaction of the city it might make it better.

i'm starting to learn it doesn't. change is political, it's about power, and people are like water (bear with me, i'm a hydrologist) because it takes volume, all going a certain way, to make the biggest impact. have the strongest force. erode grooves in rocks and wash away entire buildings (this is brisbane, we've seen it happen). what we need, is all these people, 3+ million of us and more, coming together around an idea. getting together, council can't do anything to stop a majority, not in australia at least, and the functionality of a city is something we all need. heck, traffic is bad for all of our mental health and i would bet both my kidneys that the impact of it on our lives and relationships is understudied and underreported exponentially. we can solve this, but individual choices alone don't do shit.

so i'll stop beating myself up for not being able to simply will all the traffic lights along my commute to be green, and turn the energy i put into being mad at all of those stupid annoying cars into the things i do best. it turns out i'm really fucking good at drawing up ideas and connecting with people. so i'll stop beating myself up about the fact that the uni degree i did so i'd know about these things and the job i do for Experience and Sustenance meant i haven't had time to do all of these things As Soon As I Thought Of Them (like you always got told to do for your homework assignments). instead i'll think in larger timeframes. 9 years til the olympics. 2 to finish my masters degree. 27 til the rest of the world is carbon negative like tasmania and bhutan. what can i do in each of these timeframes? and how can i prioritise it?

as i coax my brain slowly out of fight or flight, as i put my pencils and watercolours and maps to annotate out on the table in front of me and say 'take your time, but you're allowed to do what you love' i know the places that have marked on my soul stand out to me. south east queensland right out to the bay. western sydney and bringing dignity to our second cbd, parramatta. queenstown tasmania, for some reason. the murray-darling basin as a whole, gundagai and the murrumbidgee at its heart. the red dirt centre of this great land and all the peoples and cultures it holds. i can hold all of their perspectives. i can train my intuition to find out all of their needs. i can put myself into 26 million pairs of shoes and decorate the lands and i can do it respectfully and lovingly like i'm tattooing my own skin because it might as well be. tattoo it with the needs of all of us and all who have gone before. blueprints of functionality, functionality we don't have, and then meet all 26 million souls (okay, i probably only need 2 million if we're starting from brisbane) and say to them, would you dream this dream with me? will you imagine this lifestyle where you're less burdened? can you be a part of simply talking about it, because that's how we're going to make it happen? can you improve it, make it better, make it yours, knowing that when you do it imprints itself on your heart a little more, you feel a part of it? and then we're all part of it. it takes years, but it can happen.

so i guess i've got my life's work cut out for me, and i'm so fucking glad i could figure this out from something that has been frustrating me to no end, because 'you can't change it' doesn't work for me unless you switch it out like a child's toy for something more big and exciting that i can change instead. fuck you, conformity. i found what it can be for me. a dream so big it doesn't matter if i can only do some of it--and who says i have to limit myself to australia?

#urban design #personal mental health tag #silver bridges #urban planning #sustainable transport #sustainable lifestyles #sustainable development goals #socio hydrology #neurodivergence #not to mention climate change mitigation

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zhiroaesthetics · 2 months

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Mid-Summer Writing Updates

Was told that giving updates about non-major works is also valid to prove that this page is alive so...teehee!

Mental Check

To say that I've been slacking this year is a grave understatement. It frustrates me because posting in December 2023 (Kaveh) then January 2024 (Haruaki) truly made me believe that I had found my groove, then I saw my stats and gave up, yay! It's just hard writing when I already don't have the healthiest approach towards writing (it's really bad, like I cried so much writing both of those drafts), and that level of effort goes unnoticed by both the audience and myself. But I've slowly been accepting the fact that I can't gain the audience I want if I don't prove that I exist. After all, posting since 2021(?) but not even having ten entries is silly. With that being said, I have been writing consistently over the summer, but have been slowed down because I've been active, like this is the first week that I've been in my room this entire month.

Goals for Pre-Fall 2024

I'm definitely going to have at least three posts before the end of the year. I always try to have more than the year prior, and considering how little I have to my name, it's been pretty doable.

I've been going back and forth between Bowman (Granblue Fantasy) and Kyo (King of Fighters) for the past two months, and I know for the latter that his second draft is going to be posted before fall, though I'm not sure about the former. My writer's block on his draft isn't the worst despite the fact that I have to rewrite the first half of what I currently have, but I struggle trying to prioritize that draft over Kyo's given that I don't know how well a NSFW Bowman entry would be perceived. Regardless, if I post twice before Late August, expect for it to be these two bums.

Goals for Fall 2024

This is tricky, as it HIGHLY DEPENDS on what I end up fixating on, but definitely expect Tai Gong Wang (Fate/Grand Order). I've been wanting to write him since the beginning of time, but lack of knowledge on his character thanks to me exclusively playing FGO on the global server and things implied under mental check made it hard for me to prioritize writing the idea that was practically given to me. But what was initially supposed to be a collector's item ended up being NP3 and LVL 100, so I'm taking it as a sign to - at some point - lock in, and I think doing so right after clearing out my current drafts would be perfect timing.

Do, however, look out for these people:

Blade (Honkai: Star Rail)

Diluc (Genshin Impact)

Charlemagne (Fate)

Goals for Winter 2024/5

Yae Miko. Despite her being a December 2024 goal, she's one of my more ambitious projects due to research and it not being a one chapter entry. Even as I'm currently working on Kyo and Bowman, I'm immersing myself within The Pillow Book, as Sei's story is what most of Yae Miko's story will be in reference to. Also Haruaki, again, hopefully January 1st.

Do, however, look out for these people:

Kaveh (Genshin Impact)

Saichi Sugimoto (Golden Kamuy)

Miscellaneous

Girl if you saw how far I made it into my Senji draft, when I started, and when I stopped, you'd be wondering why my #1 isn't in any of my defined goals. And I'd say shit happens! Senji's draft had a very extensive outline, and I lost that very extensive outline, so I lost my motivation yay! Nevertheless, I still want to get it out there because I think it's a really funny one chapter entry.

Also Toji. Very much an outlier, but I've been putting him on the backburner because his draft is also one of my more ambitious projects, but one that challenges my writing skills in a duller way because of the amount of mundane scenes present. Also not a one chapter entry.

Anyways uh, thanks for peeping the yap session, meow!

#zhiro update #zhiro aesthetics update #writing update #long post

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howlingday · 1 year

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Ultimate Hunters V2

Mercury: Well, why don't we get the introductions outta the way?

Oscar: Huh? Introductions?

Mercury: I'm Mercury Black. Nice to meet ya! Guess I shoup tell you why I'm attending the Academy, too, while we're at it. Of course, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it's a special talent.

Oscar: It's not a special talent? What do you mean?

Mercury: I'm lucky.

Oscar: ...What do you mean?

Mercury: No, really, that's my special talent. I'm the Ultimate Lucky Student. Or that's what they call me, anyways.

Oscar: Ultimate Lucky Student?

Mercury: There was a world-wide lottery, and I just so happened to win the grand prize of getting to attend as "The Ultimate Lucky Student."

Oscar: (Thinking) Is that really a thing?. Can you really call being luvky a talent?.

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May: Hey~! Who're you dudes?

Oscar: Nice to meet you. I'm Oscar Pine.

May: Gotcha... And who's this other dude?

Mercury: What? Didn't we already meet?

May: Oh, right! Haha! My bad! I'm not the best at remembering names, and I've already met so many interesting characters!

Mercury: I'm Mercury Black. Please try to remember this time...

May: Yo! The name's May Marigold! Nice to meetcha!

Mercury: May's known as the all-around super athlete, the Ultimate Gymnast. They also say she's a bit of a troublemaker, but her athletic skill is already off the charts. But her basics and fundamentals are kinda all over the place, so most of her work is improvised. If she's in her groove, she's amazing! If not, then she gets bored and switches things up.

Oscar: No matter how you slice it, she still sounds like a troublemaker. Still, she's got an amazing physique, like a Vytal athlete!.

Mercury: Hey, what are you... Oh, I get it. You got a thing for sexy bodies, huh?

Oscar: Please don't say that out loud. People will actually take you seriously.

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Fiona: Squish! Squish!

Oscar: What's she doing?. She's just sitting on the floor, pressing her fingers to the dirt.

Oscar: Uh, are you okay? I haven't introduced myself. My name is Oscar Pine.

Fiona: Huh? I'm Fiona Thyme.

Fiona: Squish! Squish!

Oscar: She's not stopping. What is she doing?. And she looks so young... Is she really a high schooler?

Mercury: Fiona is the incredibly talented Ultimate Traditional Dancer. As a rookie, the dance industry expects a lot from her. She's already performed in other kingdoms many times. Her dancing is really popular with young audiences, which is rare for the dance industry. Then again, a significant number of her fans are also men.

Oscar: It's probably a niche thing, or something.

Fiona: Squish! Squish!

Oscar: Uh, what are you doing?

Fiona: Hm? I'm squishing!

Oscar: Squishing what?

Fiona: Mr. Ant! Duh! I'm squishing lots and lots of Mr. Ants!

Oscar: ...Come again?

Fiona: If you squish their bellies just right, it makes an awesome sound! Wanna try?

Oscar: H-Hell no!

Fiona: Aw... Okay! Pfft... Pansy...

Oscar: This girl... her attitude and her appearance don't match at all.

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Roman: Who the hell are you? Don't go acting all chummy with me, shithead.

Oscar: This guy is already so hostile.

Roman: Huh?! You got something to say, punkass?

Mercury: Easy, Roman. We're just introducing ourselves.

Roman: Introducing yourselves?

Mercury: Yeah. Not like you two have actually met before, right?

Roman: Hmph...

Roman: The name's Roman Torchwick... Just so we're clear, I don't plan on getting all chummy and shit with you.

Oscar: He looks so young, but he's also really rude.

Mercury: Roman is a student and also their heir to the Spiders.

Oscar: Spiders?! You don't mean-

Mercury: Ah, so you have heard of them. Spiders are the largest criminal organization in Remnant, with a membership of well past 4000 members. In other words, he's the Ultimate Gang-Boss.

Mercury: By the way, don't go mentioning his babyface around him, so be careful. You'll be outta fingers before he's done with you.

Oscar: I-I wasn't going to, but I'm glad I know now!.

Oscar: Mercury, you saved my life...

Mercury: Haha, you're joking right? ...Guess not.

Roman: Hey, if we're done here, you mind making like a tree and fuck off?

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Velvet: Excuse me, but aren't you the guy who was squatting on the beach earlier with your head buried in your arms?

Oscar: Er, y-yeah...

Velvet: You gotta keep it together, y'know? Nobody wants a crybaby for a husband.

Oscar: Y-You're right...

Velvet: You're waiting for me to introduce myself, right? I'm Velvet Scarlatina, and I'll be counting on you from now on.

Mercury: Velvet's the Ultimate Photographer. Naturally, she has a promising future as a photojournalist. I'm not exactly an expert on photography, but I hear she's already won a ton of awards. That said, she's known for her skill at taking pictures of people.

Oscar: The Ultimate Photographer, huh? Makes sense, seeing that camera around her neck.

Velvet: To be honest, I'm a little relieved. You seem decent enough.

Oscar: Decent?

Velvet: There's a lot of weirdos here. I can't tell if they're Ultimates, or just insane. I'm eager to get along with everyone so we can all get off this island.

Oscar: Get off? What do you mean?

Velvet: Huh? You don't know? It's what that stuffed animal Somewhat said. After you finish getting everyone's Hope Crystals, we can all go home and leave this island together.

Oscar: Th-They said that?! We can go home?!

Velvet: You should pay more attention! This is super important!

Mercury: You must feel relieved after hearing that, huh, Oscar? So long as you get along with everyone, we'll be heading home in no time!

Oscar: I guess, but why go through all this trouble in the first place? What's the point of us being on this island anyways?

Mercury: Beats me. Doesn't seem like that big a deal.

Oscar: Not a big deal? It couldn't be any bigger of a deal!.

Velvet: Hey!

Oscar: Ack!

Velvet: Don't "ack" me! I gave you my introduction. Now give me yours!

Oscar: O-Oh... Um, I'm Oscar Pine. It's nice to meet you.

Velvet: Oscar, huh? Well, too bad for you, because I've already made a mental note as "Unreliable Oscar". It'll be hard to change my mind, so you better be a man and do your best!

Mercury: Haha! You're already so whipped, Oscar!

Velvet: I'm talking to both of you! Got it?!

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Hazel: Hm? Oh, right. We gotta do introductions.

Hazel: I am the Ultimate Team Manager, Hazel Rainart!!

Oscar: U-Uh, hello. I'm Oscar Pine.

Hazel: Hey! Your voice is too soft! Speak from your gut!

Oscar: U-Um... I'm Oscar Pine!

Hazel: Louder! You can do better than that!

Oscar: My name is Oscar Pine! Pleased to make your acquaintance!

Hazel: I AM HAZEL RAINART! I AM THE ULTIMATE TEAM MANAGER! Don't forget it, even if you go to hell!

Hazel: I am the Ultimate Team Manager, Hazel Rainart!

Oscar: Y-You don't have to keep repeating your name so much.

Hazel: HA! I agree to your terms!

Oscar: He's so boisterous... It's not just his voice, but his whole body seems loud.

Mercury: Hazel Rainart, as you probably figured, is the Ultimate Team Manager.

Oscar: What does that mean? He's not on a team, but he manages it?

Mercury: Not JUST a team manager. He's an Ultimate. He's gone from town to town and played an active role in managing various sports clubs and their teams. In fact, he led a delinquent team of rugby players to victory in the national playoffs, rescued a baseball team from shutdown and took them to a finals victory, and rumor has it he's training some hotshot new champion in Mistral.

Oscar: If that's all true, then he definitely deserves the title of Ultimate Team Manager. But... with a build like his, he should be PLAYING those games instead.

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Oscar: Urgh!

Mercury: What's wrong?

Oscar: N-Nothing...

May: ...

Oscar: Why is she staring at me?.

May: Ah, uh, um...

May: Um, you know...

May: ...I-I'm sorry.

Oscar: Why is she crying?!.

Mercury: Bullying a girl? That's not cool, Oscar.

Oscar: I-I didn't do anything!

May: Oh, your name is Oscar. If you don't mind, I'd like to remember it.

Oscar: Uh, no, I don't mind you remembering my name.

May: M-My name is May Zedong. From the bottom of my heart, I hope we can get along.

May: Um... You know... Um... Um um um... Uh... My mind is drawing a blank... I'm so nervous! And I even went through the trouble of preparing over 5000 topics for us to discuss after introducing ourselves!

Oscar: Talk about excessive...

Mercury: It's okay to take your time. We can wait as long as it takes. Heck, we'll wait forever if you want us to!

May: Huh... AAAAH!

Oscar: You're just putting more pressure on her!.

Oscar: I guess I'll ask you instead. What's her deal?

Mercury: May here is the Ultimate Nurse. Anytime you're hurt, she'll help you out, so you should probably get along with her. Chances are that if you get wounded and don't get it treated, it'll get infected and you'll die!

Oscar: Don't say something so morbid so naturally...

May: Heh heh heh..

May: AH! I'm sorry for laughing so suddenly! I... I just can't help myself. I'm so happy,I can't remember the last time I made any friends... Ah, not that you actually want to be friends with me! I'm sooooooo sorry I said something so presumptuous! I'll do anything you want! Just please don't hate me!

Mercury: Bullying her again? So not cool, Oscar.

Oscar: Why does this keep happening?.

May: I'm sorry... I'm so so sorry!

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Ilia: Peeking... Peeking... Oh haiii! Who're you?

Oscar: U-Um... Oscar Pine?

Ilia: Helloooo? Your tension is too low! You feelin alright? Ah, well, introductions are already a go-go!

Ilia: Ih! Lee! Uh! Am! Ah! Toh! Lah! Put it all together and whattaya get? Ilia Amitola~!

Ilia: Alright, introductions are done. More importantly, check out this supermarket! Hamburger, ramen, chili, bratwurst, spaghetti... OOH! Melons!

Ilia: Valian, Vacuan, Mistrali, and Atlesian... Even folks from Menagerie would shop here! Man, I'm getting hella stoked! I am thirty-one flavors of stoked for all of this deliciousness! And when I'm hungry, I get reeeeeeeeeeeal munchy-crunchy! It doesn't make sense! Why am I always hungry when I get excited? Hahaha! The body sure is a total mystery!

Mercury: Uh, yeah, this is Ilia Amitola, the Ultimate Musician. She used to play guitar in an all-girl band that was super popular with other girls our age. Their number one hit, "After Class Poyoyon Hour," sold over a million copies.

Oscar: A super popular all-girl school band... Why does that sound so familiar?.

Mercury: Sadly, like so many before them, they broke up due to creative differences.

Oscar: Creative differences?

Ilia: You wanna know?

Oscar: Ack! You heard me?!

Ilia: Duh! Ilia Amitola IS a musician! Like the other greats such as Schnee, Wine, Merlot, Polendina, and Willows... I am an awesome musician, too!

Oscar: Oh, I guess it does make sense that you have good hearing if you're a music- Wait, some of those people aren't even musicians.

Ilia: Don't sweat the details~.

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Oscar: An airport? Wait, can't we use those bullheads to escape?

Robyn: Nope, sorry. Even if they were broken and busted, I could fix 'em. But it looks like they're just for show.

Oscar: Just for show?

Robyn: There's no engine. Can't fix what isn't there.

Oscar: No engine?!

Robyn: Oh, right! I forgot! I'm Robyn Hill, the Ultimate Mechanic. Nice to meetya!

Mercury: I guess I shoulda known the Ultimate Mechanic would have figured it out. Robyn's a bit of a savante when it comes to machines. If she says it won't fly, then it definitely won't fly.

Robyn: Even so, if someone took out the engine before they brought us here, then they planned this out to a T.

Oscar: Kinda weird, don't you think?

Robyn: Yeah, it's weird, but it's a kind of weird I can understand.

Oscar: Huh?

Robyn: It makes sense, though, don't it? Whoever dropped us here... I mean, it's not like they're expecting us to kill each other, right? That's what the school regulations in our e-handbook say.

Robyn: Besides, if you look enough at that cute mouse plushie, you might actually fall in love with them.

Oscar: I really hope it doesn't come to that.

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Sienna: Stop right there! If you value your life, do not take one step closer!

Oscar: ...Huh?

Sienna: I said stay back! Oh, very well... I shall accept your courage!

Oscar: What is she talking about?.

Sienna: You wish to know my name? Kehehe! Some may think your courage recklessness, but I welcome the challenge. In honor of your courage, I shall reveal to you my name! I am Sienna Khan! Remember it well, for it is the name that shall rule the world!

Oscar: R-Rule the world?! She's kidding, right?.

Sienna: Now I must ask you; whose master are you?

Oscar: What?

Sienna: Don't play dumb! Which tribe did you make a pact with? Answer me!

Oscar: Um, what do you mean by "pact"?

Sienna: Answer me now, though I shall cast you to the sea once you do!

Oscar: Then I'm definitely not answering!

Mercury: Uh, maybe I should explain. See, she's asking you what kinda of pet you used to have.

Oscar: P-Pet? I've never really had a pet. Closest thing I had to a pet was a hermit crab we passed around at school.

Sienna: A hermit crab! No better than an insect! Why, your magical essence caps at a mere five! Absolute trash!

Oscar: Trash? Really?

Sienna: Is it wrong to call trash "trash"? Why, trash like you dare not speak against higher beings like me! I am Sienna Khan, Overlord of Fire!

Oscar: H-Hey! Something just climbed out of your robe!

Sienna: Allowing the beasts to bed upon my person in exchange for their servitude is the secret of the Khan Empire!

Mercury: Yeah, seeing all those rats crawling around on her might seem like something out of a horror movie, but it's just another part of what makes her the Ultimate Breeder.

Sienna: As the Dark Beast of the South, Ghira Belladonna once said, "There are no gods or kings mighty enough to fell the bonds of brotherhood!"

Sienna: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Mercury: Yeah, I, uh, know she's kinda weird, but she does really well as part of her school breeding club. They say she can tame any animal and even proliferated an endangered species. I've even heard she can speak with animals, but I don't think it's true.

Oscar: It sounds crazy, but... she does have more than a few rats crawling in her robe.

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Coco: ...What do you want?

Oscar: This girl's presence is overwhelming. Even her body seems too overwhelming for me to approach!.

Mercury: Hey, Coco! Got time for a quick introduction?

Coco: ...Introduction?

Mercury: C'mon, Oscar!

Oscar: O-Oh! Right. Um, hello. My name is Oscar Pine.

Coco: ...My name is Coco Adel. ...I'm done. That's it, right? Back off.

Oscar: Even I can tell she's thumbing her nose at me.

Mercury: Well, that's Coco for ya.

Oscar: What do you mean?

Mercury: Even by Ultimate standards, she's pretty special. She's next in line to inherit her family's fortune, which is a multi-billion lien conglomerate. She's already started making big moves in the business world. Simply put, she isn't called the Ultimate Affluent Progeny for nothing.

Oscar: That's... That's like a comic book origin.

Coco: You there. Oscar, wasn't it?

Oscar: Huh?

Coco: Why did the academy choose you? What's your Ultimate talent?

Oscar: Um, well, I... I can't remember...

Coco: You can't remember?

Mercury: The shock of all this must've triggered some kinda amnesia on him.

Coco: How foolish. ...We're done, aren't we? How much longer are you going to stand there?

Coco: Move along! That's the only thing you scrawny ones are any good at.

Mercury: Let's just leave, Oscar.

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Joanna: State your business.

Oscar: Oh, uh, w-well, I just wanted to do an introduction with you.

Joanna: An introduction? Understood. I don't mind.

Oscar: I'm Oscar Pine. It's nice to meet you.

Joanna: I'm Joanna Greenleaf. It is nice to meet you, too.

Mercury: This dignified looking woman is known as the ultimate swordswoman. Yeah, color me shocked, too, when I learned this tall woman could be so skilled with a blade. I've heard even veterans with decades of experience have trouble fighting her!

Oscar: I can kind of see why. The way she's staring at me is really intense.

Joanna: If what the mouse said was true, then we are expected to live on this island together. If this is true, then men and women are expected to treat each other with respect. Don't try anything inappropriate. I'd prefer not to kill anyone.

Oscar: I-Isn't that just a wooden sword?

Joanna: It may seem impossible, but a misaimed blow could prove fatal. Well... aimed blows can also prove fatal as well.

Oscar: (Gulps) I'll remember that.

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Sun: ...

Oscar: Looks like he's playing the arcade. More than that, it looks like he's completely ABSORBED by it!.

Sun: ...

Mercury: Hey, Oscar, haven't you introduced yourself to him yet?

Oscar: R-Right! I'm Oscar Pine. Nice to meet you.

Sun: ...

Oscar: Uh...

Mercury: Yo! Sun!

Sun: ...Huh? Sorry. Musta been real focused on this game or somethin'.

Oscar: Y-Yeah, or somethin'.

Sun: Introductions, huh? Alright. The name's Sun Wukong, and I'm the Ultimate Gamer. And I like all genres. ...Nice to meetcha.

Oscar: I'm Oscar Pine. Nice to meet you, too.

Sun: ...Uh-huh, totally.

Oscar: I don't think we're getting much further than this.

Mercury: Yeah, he's really into his game right now.

Sun: Nah, nah. It's more like I gotta charge up my thoughgs, and it takes time to do that, so I can't really talk unless I'm fully prepared, y'know? Especially with new people. Once I get to know 'em, I can talk a lot better.

Oscar: And yet he hasn't looked at me once. Sure, he's the Ultimate Gamer, but how can anyone game at a time like this?.

Sun: ...Ah! Hah, I'm sleepy...

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Mercury: Let's finish introducing ourselves to those two people over there.

Marrow: That's right. I'm having a really hard time because it's full of poison. Speaking of which, I'd appreciate it if you could use your mouth to suck it out~.

Whitley: Poison... I see...

Oscar: Hey, uh, do you guys have a second?

Marrow: (Sighs) Denied.

Oscar: Denied?.

Whitley: Hello. It is nice to meet you.

Oscar: It's nice to meet you, too. My name is Oscar Pine.

Marrow: Oh, so you're the new kid on the block, huh? The name's Marrow Amin, known on the streets as the Ultimate Cook, but I'd much prefer it if you called me the Ultimate Chef instead. Has much more of a big city flavor, y'know?

Whitley: Oh! I forgot to introduce myself! Forgive me! My name is Whitley Schnee. I am a foreign exchange student from Atlas. Hopefully I do not cause you too much trouble.

Oscar: Uh, same.

Oscar: His skin is like porcelain and his eyes are like sapphires! It's almost like looking at a fragil doll...

Mercury: Enchanted, Oscar? That's to be expected, since you're talking to the real Ultimate Prince, which means he's actual royalty!

Oscar: A real prince? Normally I'd be surprised, but looking at his graceful appearance, it's only natural to come to that conclusion, right?.

Whitley: I understand this may appear rude, but... I do feel happy to have met all of you.

Oscar: Huh?

Whitley: In my home country, I... I did not have a friend to call my own. Those of my age did not share my status in society. So to do something like this with everyone is a new experience for me...

Whitley: I EXTOL YOUR VIRTUES!

Oscar: Oh, uh, th-thanks?

Oscar: What's going on?! Why do I feel this sudden urge to drop to my knee and bow?!.

Marrow: H-Hey, I hope I'm not being left on the menu here.

Oscar: Huh? Oh! No! I-

Mercury: So Marrow, how's the restaurant look? Up to your standards?

Marrow: Hmhmhm... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested. Yeah, it's up to my standards. But I prefer the big city flavor of my hometown, even if this open country air is refreshing. Mhmhmhmhmhmhmhmhm...!

Oscar: Hey, aren't you...?

Marrow: Refined? Cultured? Guilty~!

Oscar: N-No. Worried.

Marrow: Worried? Why would I be worried? Honestly, I'm happy!

Oscar: Really? Why's that?

Marrow: Well, if I could get serious for a quick second... I've got a sneaking suspicion that Somewhat character is a real freak, if you get my meaning.

Oscar: ...What?

Marrow: I'd bet good money they're wearing a black thong as we speak! Or should we discuss this somewhere more privately? C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon!

Oscar: ...No.

Marrow: Alright, I'll put that aside for now. This might also be a bit of a shock for you, but I've got it on good intuition that Mister Schnee over there is one to put out, y'know? See, royalty are groomed to lack common sense, right? That makes them easy prey, like how I tried telling him my "loins" were poisoned and could only be cured if I ask him to suck it out.

Oscar: Is that what he was talking about earlier?

Whitley: Hm? What are you two talking about over here?

Marrow: We'll talk about this later.

Mercury: You better not.

Marrow: Still, when I fantasize about things like that, I can't help but look forward to living on this island! When it comes to love ans cooking, passion is the most important ingredient! Mhmhmhmhm~!

Oscar: This guy is dangerous... but not for the reason I first thought.

#rwby #danganronpa #danganronpa v2 #mercury black #oscar pine #may marigold #fiona thyme #roman torchwick #velvet scarlatina #hazel rainart #may zedong #ilia amitola #sienna khan #robyn hill #sun wukong #joanna greenleaf #coco adel #marrow amin #whitley schnee

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